Wanted by the Chinese mafia, a New York City bike messenger escapes into the world of parkour after meeting a beautiful stranger.

Nikki: You're one of THOSE kind of people.
Cam: What... what kind of people is that?
Nikki: Can't hang on to anything nice.
Cam: I guess I haven't had enough practice.
Nikki: Don't worry about it. I shoulda known better. I mean... next time I'll just take my wallet and burn it.
[last lines]
Cam: Where to?
Nikki: Let's just drive.
Miller: I'm inviting you to sit down at the dinner table. Show me you know how to be a good guest.
Miller: You've got to constantly push past what you think you can do or you stay stuck.
Miller: Hey, there. You must be Cam. Dylan tells me you're new to parkour. He also said you're pretty good. Might have to, uh, work on this jump though. I'm Miller. Pick a fight with gravity before you're ready, you tend to get a beating.
Cam: I don't know what I'm doing.
Miller: That's the great thing about parkour, my friend. There are no rules.