ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe fight left the group shaken. Ignoring the throbbing ache in her knuckles and the dull scream of her backside, Lyra took charge. The Monroe-Aragon house was closer compared to the Château, or the unwelcome stares Kiara’s friends would face at her home from her parents.

ㅤㅤAs they burst through the front door, breathless and disheveled, the sound of laughter died in the kitchen. Lyra’s parents, Adrian and Kate, sat at the table, a half-eaten supper abandoned to their surprise. Concern etched lines on their faces as they took in the sight of their daughter and her friends—JJ and Pope sporting bruises, Kiara’s eyes blazing with a mix of anger and fear.

ㅤㅤWithout a word needed, Adrian rose, his tall frame radiating warmth. “Come in, come in, all of you,” he boomed, ushering them toward the kitchen. Kate followed suit, her gentle smile a balm on their frayed nerves. They noticed the damage, but any questions died on their lips. Adrian wasted no time preparing another meal. As the aroma of frying food filled the kitchen, Adrian and Kate’s gazes met. They knew exactly who was responsible, the knowledge simmering beneath the surface.

ㅤㅤKiara sighed, the tension slowly draining from her shoulders as she guided Pope toward a chair. He let out a soft groan as he sat, wincing when Kiara gently peeled back his sleeve, revealing a fresh bruise. “Pope, you’re a magnet for trouble,” she muttered, reaching for the first-aid kit Kate slid across the table.

ㅤㅤ“I don’t think that was my fault,” Pope murmured, watching as Kiara cleaned the wound with practiced ease.

ㅤㅤ“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, unimpressed.

ㅤㅤThey noticed the damage, but any questions died on their lips. Adrian wasted no time, moving toward the stove to prepare another meal. As the aroma of frying food filled the kitchen, Adrian and Kate’s gazes met. They knew exactly who was responsible, the knowledge simmering beneath the surface.

ㅤㅤJJ, still amped up from the fight, tried to shake it off. He had handled worse. But as he dropped into a chair, Kate was already moving toward him with a first aid kit. “I’m good,” he muttered, waving her off with a tired smirk.

ㅤㅤKate gave him a pointed look, one that held the weight of a mother’s silent insistence. “You’re bleeding,” she countered simply.

ㅤㅤJJ faltered. He wasn’t used to this—the quiet, casual way she fussed over him, dabbing gently at the cut on his temple. Luke only ever made things worse. But Kate? She treated him like he mattered, like he wasn’t just some reckless kid who got into fights.

ㅤㅤ“You’re gonna scar,” Kate murmured, her touch careful. “Though I suppose that’ll only add to the whole ‘bad boy’ aesthetic.”

ㅤㅤJJ huffed out a small laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Yeah, gotta keep the brand strong.”

ㅤㅤ“Thank you.”

ㅤㅤJJ turned, confused. “For what?”

ㅤㅤKate’s gaze flickered toward Lyra, who was leaning against the counter, laughing at something Adrian said. “For looking out for her,” Kate said simply.

ㅤㅤJJ swallowed, shifting on his feet. He didn’t know what to say to that. But Kate didn’t press him. She just gave him a knowing smile and went back to giving him aid.

ㅤㅤMeanwhile, Adrian strode over and ruffled Lyra’s hair, his touch firm but affectionate. “Heard you landed a good one,” he teased, nodding at her bandaged knuckles.

ㅤㅤLyra groaned, leaning away from his touch. “Dad, not now.”

ㅤㅤBut Adrian just grinned, pulling out a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressing it into her palm. “For the record,” he added, “I’m proud of you. But next time, maybe don’t punch a guy who can throw you across a field.”

ㅤㅤLyra rolled her eyes but bit back a smile. “No promises.”

ㅤㅤThe air in the kitchen shifted, the tension slowly easing into something softer. Pope sighed in relief as Kiara finished tending to him, her fingers lingering just a second too long against his arm before she pulled away. JJ, despite his protests, let Kate fuss over him. Lyra sat back in her chair, allowing herself a moment of quiet.

ㅤㅤBefore the teens could voice their concerns, Kate spoke, her voice firm but gentle. “We didn’t grow up here, but when we moved here and started our firm, we saw the ridge between the two groups firsthand. Clients looked at our address before they looked at our work.” She shook her head, a trace of old frustration flickering across her face. “Some Kooks wouldn’t even consider hiring us because we lived on the Cut.”

ㅤㅤAdrian leaned back, crossing his arms. “It was a hard lesson. We were good at what we did, but that didn’t matter to some people. We lost projects before we could even bid for them.” His gaze flicked to the bruises on Pope and JJ before settling on Lyra. “We knew the rivalry was ugly, but it took us a while to truly understand how deep it ran.”

ㅤㅤPope, who had been quiet, let out a humorless chuckle. “So, nothing’s changed, huh?” He shook his head, gripping the edge of the counter. “I don’t know why I keep expecting it to.”

ㅤㅤJJ scoffed, the corner of his lip quirking up in a smirk, but there was no real amusement in it. “They just get more creative with their bullshit, that’s all.” He rubbed at the drying blood near his temple, throwing a glance at Lyra. 

ㅤㅤLyra swallowed, feeling the weight of her parents’ words settle in her chest. She had always known the divide ran deep, but hearing how it had affected Adrian and Kate firsthand made it feel more personal. More real. “You guys never told me that,” she murmured, eyes flickering between them.

ㅤㅤKate sighed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Lyra’s ear. “We didn’t want you and Klyd growing up thinking the world would always be against you,” she said softly. “We wanted you to believe you could build something here, that you wouldn’t have to fight for every inch of respect.”

ㅤㅤAdrian nodded, his gaze warm but serious. “But we also knew it wasn’t that simple.” He glanced at JJ, Pope, and Kiara, including them in the conversation. “That’s why we’ve never tried to tell you to let things go when they’re unfair. Because we know what it’s like to have to prove yourself twice as hard, just because of where you’re from.”

ㅤㅤKate hesitated for a beat, then said, “Even after we won the lottery, some Kooks still didn’t change the way they treated us. To them, we were just dirty Pogues who got lucky. Like we didn’t earn it, like our success with our business wasn’t real because we weren’t born into it.” She shook her head. “Some of them actually got worse. The ones who used to ignore us suddenly had a problem with us. Like we broke some unspoken rule by getting out.”

ㅤㅤLyra’s jaw clenched. “Because they think you’re not supposed to win.”

ㅤㅤAdrian nodded. “Exactly. To them, we’ll always be Pogues who got money from charity. No matter what we build, no matter how hard we work.” His voice wasn’t bitter, but it carried a weight that made the teens fall silent.

ㅤㅤJJ exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “That’s some next-level bullshit.”

ㅤㅤKate gave a small, knowing smile. “It is. But it taught us something important—people like that? They’re never going to see us as equals. And that’s fine.” She looked around at all of them, her expression softening. “We don’t need their approval. And neither do you.”

ㅤㅤThe room went quiet again, but this time, the silence felt different. Not heavy, but thoughtful.

ㅤㅤLyra, needing to cut the tension, cleared her throat. “So… if we ever get thrown in jail, you’ll bail us out, right?”

ㅤㅤAdrian and Kate’s laughter came almost instantly, breaking the somber mood.

ㅤㅤ“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Kate said, shaking her head, though her eyes shone with warmth. “But you know we’d do anything for you. For all of you.” She looked at each of them, her gaze lingering just long enough to make sure they knew she meant it.

ㅤㅤJJ, who had been absently running a hand through his hair, glanced at Kate and grinned. “So… that means if I end up in jail first, you’ll vouch for me, right?”

ㅤㅤKate smirked, arching a brow. “That depends. Did Lyra tell you to do it?”

ㅤㅤJJ hesitated for a second too long.

ㅤㅤLyra burst out laughing, nudging him. “That’s a yes.”

ㅤㅤKate hummed, giving JJ a pointed look. “Then I guess you’re safe. But if it’s your idea, you’re on your own, Maybank.”

ㅤㅤJJ placed a dramatic hand over his heart. “That’s cold, Mrs. Monroe-Aragon.”

ㅤㅤKate just shook her head, but there was a flicker of something fond in her eyes as she handed him a fresh ice pack. He took it without hesitation, pressing it to his temple, his usual bravado slipping just a little.

ㅤㅤJJ looked completely at ease, something rare for him. He fit in here like he belonged, his usual restlessness replaced with something softer. The way he bantered with Kate, the way Adrian didn’t hesitate to offer him more food—JJ noticed it. And even if he’d never say it out loud, it meant something.

ㅤㅤLyra caught the way he exhaled, just slightly, as if some invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She didn’t comment on it, but when he looked up, their eyes met, and she knew he understood what she wasn’t saying.

ㅤㅤPope leaned against the counter, his brows furrowing. “Where the hell was John B?”

ㅤㅤSilence followed. 

ㅤㅤLyra exchanged a look with Kiara, unease settling in. But before the conversation could spiral, Adrian clapped his hands together. “Alright, enough brooding. You all need food, and I don’t want to hear any protests.”

ㅤㅤA collective groan echoed in the kitchen, but no one refused. They were safe here. And that’s all that matters.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

ㅤㅤThe next day at Heyward’s, it seemed like nothing bad had happened to them yesterday. It all seemed normal, considering John B’s absence loomed over them, but they weren’t worried. The man can handle himself.

ㅤㅤJJ sat on the counter, playing idly with a bowl of oranges, brow furrowed. He tossed an orange up, caught it, then glanced at Pope. “What was your thought process? Using your head?”

ㅤㅤPope shrugged, rolling his shoulders like he could shake off the weight of it all. “I don’t know, man. I just kind of acted out on instinct. I was a cornered animal.”

ㅤㅤLyra straddled beside JJ and winced. “I cannot imagine how much it hurts.”

ㅤㅤHer voice was soft, almost hesitant. Pope grimaced, reaching up to touch the lamp-shaped bruise blooming across his forehead. “Hurts like hell.” Then, somehow, a grin cracked through. “But Lyra was a great aim at last, though! That was the first time you didn’t miss a shot.”

ㅤㅤJJ barked out a laugh. “Adrian and Klyd would be proud.”

ㅤㅤLyra scoffed, rolling her eyes at the jab. JJ nudged her lightly with his elbow. “Speaking of Klyd, should we tell him about…” He trailed off, flicking a glance at Lyra.

ㅤㅤKiara raised a brow. “What, you two are friends now?” She teased, making JJ scoff.

ㅤㅤBefore he could fire back, Heyward’s voice cut through the shop.

ㅤㅤ“Hey, Pope, someone here to see you.”

ㅤㅤJJ and Lyra hopped off the counter, expecting a customer. Instead, their eyes landed on Deputy Shoupe, his expression grim, his stance rigid. In his hand was a warrant. The official seal gleamed under the harsh shop lights. The room dropped several degrees.

ㅤㅤShoupe’s gaze zeroed in on Pope. “Keep your hands on the counter where I can see them.”

ㅤㅤPope’s face drained of color. His eyes darted between JJ and Lyra, a silent plea flashing across his face.

ㅤㅤLyra instinctively reached out, her fingers brushing against JJ’s in a quick, desperate movement. He squeezed her hand in return, just briefly.

ㅤㅤIt’s about Topper’s boat. Lyra was calling it now.

ㅤㅤHeyward moved forward, his voice edged with protest. “Hold on now—what’s this about?”

ㅤㅤShoupe barely spared him a glance. “Take a look at the warrant.”

ㅤㅤThen, without another word, he snapped the handcuffs around Pope’s wrists.

ㅤㅤPope flinched, his breath catching in his throat, but Shoupe didn’t slow. Before anyone could react, the Deputy propelled him toward the door.

ㅤㅤㅤThe room erupted.

ㅤㅤㅤHeyward, JJ, Lyra, and Kiara scrambled after them, a knot of dread tightening in their stomachs. 

ㅤㅤ“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Shoupe ordered, his voice edged with authority.

ㅤㅤPope stiffened. His eyes darted toward JJ, then to Lyra, then Kiara—searching, begging for some kind of explanation.

ㅤㅤLyra grabbed JJ’s wrist on instinct, a silent do something passing between them. But JJ was already thinking ten steps ahead.

ㅤㅤIt played out in his head like a movie he’d seen a thousand times. Pope—the kid with a future, the one who actually had something to lose—was about to be dragged away for something JJ did. And JJ? He was already the town’s lost cause. The son of a drunk junkie, a troublemaker, a Maybank. His reputation had been decided the second he was born.

ㅤㅤSo what did it matter?

ㅤㅤ“It was me.”

ㅤㅤSilence.

ㅤㅤThe second the words left his mouth, Lyra stiffened. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Like she could physically stop him from doing this. Pope’s head snapped up. Kiara’s mouth fell open. Lyra turned, her face inches from his.

ㅤㅤIt all happened in a blur, and the next thing they knew, Shoupe pulled him away from her. The cuffs snapped shut around JJ’s wrists, cold metal biting into his skin. He barely flinched. It was done.

ㅤㅤOr at least, it should’ve been.

ㅤㅤBecause the second Shoupe moved to push JJ forward, Lyra exploded.

ㅤㅤ“Are you actually serious right now?”

ㅤㅤJJ groaned. “Elyra, don’t.”

ㅤㅤ“Oh, don’t?” She turned to Shoupe, voice sharp with frustration. “You can’t do this! You know JJ—he pulls shit, yeah, but he’s not this stupid.”

ㅤㅤJJ scoffed. “Gee, thanks.”

ㅤㅤShoupe sighed, rubbing his temple. “You guys finished?”

ㅤㅤ“No, I’m not finished!” Lyra threw her hands in the air. “Because this—this is bullshit, and you know it.”

ㅤㅤJJ rolled his eyes. “Great. Now you’re arguing with the cops.”

ㅤㅤ“Maybe because you’re being an idiot!”

ㅤㅤ“Oh, I’m the idiot?” JJ shot back. “I just saved Pope’s ass, and I’m the idiot?”

ㅤㅤ“Yeah, actually, you are! Because Pope didn’t even do anything, and neither did you!”

ㅤㅤJJ let out a dry laugh. “You don’t get it, do you?”

ㅤㅤ“Then explain it to me!”

ㅤㅤJJ clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to explain it. He didn’t want to say it out loud. That he wasn’t worth saving. That he wasn’t Pope. That if someone had to take the fall, it was always gonna be him.

ㅤㅤBut Lyra—God, she wasn’t letting this go.

ㅤㅤSo he snapped.

ㅤㅤ“What the hell do you want me to do, Lyra?” His voice was sharp, cutting. “Let Pope take the blame? Let him get a record because I was the one who lost my shit?”

ㅤㅤ“That’s not the point!”

ㅤㅤ“Then what is the point?”

ㅤㅤ“The point is that you don’t even think twice before throwing yourself under the bus!”

ㅤㅤJJ threw his hands up. “What do you want from me?”

ㅤㅤ“I want you to care about yourself for once!”

ㅤㅤThe words rang through the shop, louder than either of them intended. 

ㅤㅤJJ froze.

ㅤㅤSo did Lyra. Her chest heaved, frustration and something else burning in her eyes.

ㅤㅤJJ exhaled, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. More tired. “Don’t waste your breath on me, Lyra.” Her face twisted, like the words physically hurt her.

ㅤㅤJJ took a step closer, his voice quieter but just as firm. “I mean it. Stop.”

ㅤㅤBut Lyra—God, she was stubborn. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I won’t.”

ㅤㅤJJ clenched his jaw. “You will.”

ㅤㅤ“No, I won’t, because I—” She faltered. Swallowed hard.

ㅤㅤJJ’s breath hitched.

ㅤㅤSay it.

ㅤㅤBut she didn’t.

ㅤㅤInstead, she exhaled shakily, stepping back. Her hands trembled at her sides, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach for him but knew she shouldn’t.

ㅤㅤJJ hated the way his chest ached at the loss of her warmth.

ㅤㅤShoupe sighed, clearly over the dramatics. “Can I take him now, or do y’all wanna keep arguing like an old married couple?”

ㅤㅤJJ smirked slightly, despite himself. “Married? Man, don’t give her ideas.”

ㅤㅤLyra shot him a sharp glare, but there was something else behind it. Something broken.

ㅤㅤShoupe nudged JJ forward.

ㅤㅤJJ gave her one last look. “Don’t make a big deal out of this, Lyra.”

ㅤㅤLyra bit her lip. Then, just before the car door closed, she met his eyes. “It already is.”

ㅤㅤAnd just like that, he was gone.

ㅤㅤBut Lyra wasn’t giving up.

ㅤㅤNot yet.

ㅤㅤA few minutes later, Pope walked into Heyward’s shop, followed closely by his father and Kiara. Lyra barely had time to exchange parting words before slipping out, her friends watching as the Heywards told them she had somewhere to be.

ㅤㅤHer grip tightened on the worn leather strap of her purse, knuckles turning white. The fluorescent lights of the hotel lobby buzzed overhead, too harsh, too sterile, doing nothing to ease the anxiety curling in her stomach. She swallowed hard, scanning the lobby for an ATM.

ㅤㅤThirteen. That’s how old she was when her parents opened a starter bank account for her—for school, for essentials. A debit card, not a credit card, unlike the ones her parents handled with the ease of seasoned adults.

ㅤㅤTwo thousand bucks. That’s what was left in her account. It wouldn’t be enough. Her fingers ghosted over the second card in her purse. Her mother’s credit card.

ㅤㅤThe guilt was instant, a bitter pit forming in her stomach, but she shoved it down. They’d understand. And if they didn’t? It didn’t matter.

ㅤㅤThis was for JJ.

ㅤㅤHer fingers drummed anxiously against her purse as she waited. Klyd worked here, trapped in some stuffy office while she needed him. Now.

ㅤㅤWhen the glass doors finally slid open, Klyd stepped through, starched suit pressed, tie straightened—every bit the professional. The usual easygoing glint in his eyes dimmed with skepticism the moment he saw her.

ㅤㅤ“You here for my car keys?” His lips twitched with amusement, though his raised brow suggested he already knew this was more than a joyride request.

ㅤㅤLyra didn’t waste time. “More like... can you drive me to the police station?” She forced a smile, but it felt brittle, too tight.

ㅤㅤKlyd let out a slow sigh, resignation creeping into his expression. “Who’s behind bars this time?” He leaned against his desk, arms crossed, waiting.

ㅤㅤLyra launched into the story—Topper, the boat prank, the bullshit arrest, JJ taking the blame. Heat flared in her voice, frustration leaking into every word. She didn’t miss the flicker of something in Klyd’s eyes at Topper’s name.

ㅤㅤAnnoyance. Contempt.

ㅤㅤIt deepened when she mentioned Rafe and what he did to Pope.

ㅤㅤHe scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

ㅤㅤLyra knew that tone. Klyd didn’t just dislike Topper and Rafe—he despised them.

ㅤㅤMaybe it was because he grew up witnessing their entitled bullshit firsthand. Maybe it was because he had spent years watching people like them push around Pogues while hiding behind their parents' money. Or perhaps it was because he knew the kind of people they were behind closed doors—the kind who acted like gods in Figure Eight and faced no consequences for it.

ㅤㅤThe kind who could get away with murder.

ㅤㅤ“I swear, these Thorntons and Camerons act like they own the entire island.” Klyd muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “They screw up and never get called out for it, but God forbid a Pogue steps out of line—suddenly, they’re a damn criminal.”

ㅤㅤLyra bit her lip, staying quiet. Because yeah. That was exactly it.

ㅤㅤBut then, Klyd’s gaze shifted, pinning her with something sharper. “And your friends?” He raised an eyebrow. “You think this was their smartest move?”

ㅤㅤHer stomach twisted.

ㅤㅤKlyd had never been the kind of older brother who blindly supported her decisions. He cared, but he never sugarcoated things, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let her or her friends off easy. “I like them, El. I do.” His voice softened slightly, but there was still an edge to it. “Pope’s a good kid. JJ…” He sighed. “He’s reckless as hell, but I know he’d take a bullet for you. And Kiara? She’s got a good heart, but she’s got more pride than common sense sometimes.”

ㅤㅤLyra frowned, about to argue, but Klyd cut her off.

ㅤㅤ“John B, though?” Klyd’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Where was he?”

ㅤㅤLyra hesitated. 

ㅤㅤThat was the thing. John B wasn’t there.

ㅤㅤShe had tried not to think too much about it—tried to focus on getting JJ out instead—but Klyd’s words forced the thought to settle uncomfortably in her chest.

ㅤㅤTaking a breath, she forced herself to move on. The money. Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “I already took out two thousand, but it’s not enough. I need more.” She swallowed thickly. “Please, Klyd, don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

ㅤㅤKlyd leaned back in his chair, thoughtful, the furrow in his brow deepening. “The bank probably already sent them an email, El. They’ll know.”

ㅤㅤHer stomach twisted. Of course. Her parents monitored her account. An automatic alert probably hit their inbox the second she withdrew that much. Her voice wavered. “I know… just—please don’t rat me out.”

ㅤㅤKlyd exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damn, El. Do you even think before you do shit like this?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the weight of someone who had been put in far too many situations like this.

ㅤㅤLyra bristled. “I didn’t have time to think, Klyd. JJ needed—”

ㅤㅤ“So what, you just throw money at the problem?” Klyd snapped. “That’s not how this works. What if two grand wasn’t enough? What’s your next move? Drain Mom’s card until she notices? Or were you planning on using my account next?”

ㅤㅤLyra’s jaw locked. “It’s not like that.”

ㅤㅤKlyd scoffed. “Then what’s it like? Huh? You can’t just pull shit like this and expect it to work out every time. You don’t fix things by making reckless decisions, Lyra.”

ㅤㅤLyra crossed her arms, stubborn. “You’re acting like I stole from them.”

ㅤㅤ“You did.” Klyd shot back. “Doesn’t matter if it’s for a good reason—you took money that wasn’t yours to take, and you didn’t even think about the consequences. What if Mom and Dad freeze your account? What if they shut down all of your cards? Then what?”

ㅤㅤLyra’s stomach sank. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

ㅤㅤKlyd sighed, running a hand through his hair. His frustration was clear, but so was the concern. “Look, I get it. You want to help him. But you can’t just throw money at a legal issue and hope it disappears.”

ㅤㅤShe exhaled shakily. “So what am I supposed to do?”

ㅤㅤKlyd’s voice softened slightly. “For starters? Let me handle the money.”

ㅤㅤLyra hesitated, but eventually, she gave a reluctant nod. That was the best she was going to get.

ㅤㅤKlyd grabbed his keys and gestured toward the door.

ㅤㅤ“Let’s go.”

ㅤㅤAnd that was that.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

ㅤㅤThe car ride to JJ’s house was a mix of silence and quiet conversation, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. Lyra sat in the passenger seat, her knee bouncing restlessly. Klyd glanced at her, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

ㅤㅤ“You keep shaking the car like that, and I’m gonna start charging you for gas,” he quipped, attempting to ease the tension.

ㅤㅤLyra huffed, crossing her arms. “Sorry for caring.”

ㅤㅤKlyd sighed, turning his eyes back to the road. “I didn’t say that. Just… I know how you get.”

ㅤㅤShe shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong. Her worrying could turn into an obsession if left unchecked.

ㅤㅤA beat of silence passed before Klyd exhaled through his nose, adjusting his grip on the wheel. “You know, you didn’t have to pull me out of work for this. I would’ve helped either way.”

ㅤㅤLyra softened at that. Klyd didn’t always show his concern in obvious ways, but it was there, lingering in the space between his words. “I know,” she murmured.

ㅤㅤKlyd stole a glance at her, then clicked his tongue. “I get why you’re all twisted up about this. But JJ’s a tough bastard. Always has been.”

ㅤㅤLyra’s throat tightened. “That doesn’t mean he should have to be.”

ㅤㅤKlyd’s jaw flexed. He knew. He’d known about Luke Maybank’s cruelty for a while now, even if JJ never talked about it. There were signs—bruises that weren’t from fights, excuses that didn’t quite add up, the way JJ flinched just slightly when a voice was raised too loud. It pissed Klyd off more than he liked to admit.

ㅤㅤ“You gonna be okay?” he asked instead, his voice softer.

ㅤㅤLyra swallowed. “I don’t care if I’m okay. I care if he is.”

ㅤㅤKlyd sighed, shaking his head with an amused smirk. “Man, you really do have it bad, huh?”

ㅤㅤLyra blinked. “What?”

ㅤㅤKlyd snorted. “I mean, I always knew you had a soft spot for dumbasses, but JJ Maybank? That’s a new low.”

ㅤㅤHeat shot up Lyra’s neck. “I do not have a soft spot for him!” she sputtered, eyes wide.

ㅤㅤKlyd shot her a knowing look. “Uh-huh. That’s why you dragged me out in the middle of the day, stress-bounced my car half to death, and are currently chewing your lip as it owes you money?”

ㅤㅤLyra’s hands flew to her lap as she scowled. “That proves nothing.”

ㅤㅤKlyd hummed. “Right. And if I look over right now, you’re definitely not blushing?”

ㅤㅤLyra’s entire face burned. “I hate you.”

ㅤㅤKlyd chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Nah, you just hate that I’m right,”

ㅤㅤLyra grumbled under her breath, turning to face the window.

ㅤㅤDespite the teasing, Klyd’s grin softened as they neared JJ’s house. His hands tightened around the wheel. “Just… be careful, alright?”

ㅤㅤLyra nodded, already steeling herself. “Always.”

ㅤㅤAnd with that, the car rolled to a stop, and Lyra braced herself for whatever came next.

ㅤㅤAs Klyd’s car pulled away, Lyra watched it disappear down the street before turning toward the Maybank house. The small, weathered home stood in stark contrast to the storm raging in her chest. She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears.

ㅤㅤTaking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward.

ㅤㅤBefore she could reach the main door, the door swung open.

ㅤㅤJJ stood there, his hair tousled, eyes red-rimmed, exhaustion carved into every inch of him. The sight sent a jolt through her. His usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was something raw, something unguarded in the way he looked at her.

ㅤㅤ“Lyra?” he rasped, as if he didn’t quite believe she was real. “What are you doing here?”

ㅤㅤShe wanted to say something easy, something that wouldn’t give her away. But all that came out was the truth. “I’m sorry I came late,” she whispered, her voice small, thick with regret.

ㅤㅤJJ stared at her for a beat, like he was processing her words. Then, suddenly, relief washed over him.

ㅤㅤBefore she could react, he lunged forward, arms wrapping around her in a desperate, bone-crushing hug. Lyra barely had time to gasp before she was pressed against him, his warmth, his heartbeat—frantic and uneven—pounding against her own.

ㅤㅤ“No,” JJ murmured into her shoulder, his voice raw and trembling. “You’re just in time.”

ㅤㅤThe weight of him, the way he clung to her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat, shattered something in her chest. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him just as tightly.

ㅤㅤ“I’m here, J,” she whispered, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “You’re not alone. You can let it all out now.”

ㅤㅤAt her words, JJ’s entire body shuddered. He sucked in a sharp breath, then another, before his resolve cracked completely. His silent sobs came in waves, shaking him, and Lyra held on, stroking his back in a steady rhythm, grounding him.

ㅤㅤEach stroke was a promise. I’ve got you. You’re safe.

ㅤㅤTime blurred. But eventually, his breaths evened out, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. JJ pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. His eyes, rimmed with exhaustion, searched hers for something—reassurance, maybe, or permission to believe that this was real.

ㅤㅤA ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “Lyra, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you here… So, thank you.” His voice was quiet, but the weight of his words was anything but.

ㅤㅤLyra squeezed his hand, her own heart hammering wildly. “JJ, as long as I’m here, for as long as I breathe, you won’t have to do anything alone. I promise.”

ㅤㅤThen, without another word, he grabbed his keys, nodding toward his bike. “Let’s get out of here.”

ㅤㅤThe salty night air whipped at Lyra’s hair as she hopped onto the back of JJ’s motorbike, wrapping her arms securely around his waist. The familiar rumble beneath them, the wind rushing past, should have soothed the anxiety in her chest.

ㅤㅤHer arms were still wrapped around his waist, her cheek lightly pressed against his shoulder, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. Even as they rode, JJ felt distant—like his mind was miles away from here.

ㅤㅤWhen they reached the Château, he didn’t move right away. He just sat there, hands gripping the handlebars, staring at nothing.

ㅤㅤLyra hesitated before gently placing a hand on his arm. “JJ?”

ㅤㅤHe exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath the whole ride. “Sorry,” he muttered, finally swinging his leg off the bike. Lyra followed, watching him closely as he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more.

ㅤㅤ“You don’t have to say anything,” she assured him, stepping beside him. “But if you want to…”

ㅤㅤJJ let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “What, you wanna hear about what a great day I had?”

ㅤㅤLyra didn’t say anything. She just waited.

ㅤㅤJJ shifted on his feet, glancing toward the water. The reflection of the moon shimmered on the surface, but his gaze was unfocused. “You ever feel like no matter what you do, it’s never enough?” he asked suddenly. His voice was quieter now, stripped of its usual bravado.

ㅤㅤLyra’s heart clenched. “All the time,” she admitted.

ㅤㅤJJ huffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… that’s me. Every damn day.” He kicked a loose rock, watching as it tumbled into the grass. “It’s like… You try, you really try, but it doesn’t matter. You’re still the screw-up. The one people expect to mess up, so you might as well, right?” He laughed bitterly. “Why fight it?”

ㅤㅤLyra stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. “JJ, that’s not true.”

ㅤㅤHe met her eyes, something unreadable flickering behind his. “Isn’t it?”

ㅤㅤShe could see it now—the exhaustion, the weight of something far heavier than just a night in a jail cell. This wasn’t just about the fight with Topper or the prank gone wrong. This was something deeper.

ㅤㅤBut he wasn’t ready to say it.

ㅤㅤAnd Lyra wasn’t going to push.

ㅤㅤSo instead, she took a step closer, her voice steady. “For the record, you’re not a screw-up to me.”

ㅤㅤJJ stared at her, caught off guard.

ㅤㅤLyra tilted her head. “And I don’t care what anyone else says, either.”

ㅤㅤHis throat bobbed like he was trying to swallow the emotion creeping up on him. He exhaled through his nose, forcing a smirk. “Careful there, Lyra. People might start thinking you actually like me.”

ㅤㅤLyra rolled her eyes, relieved to see a hint of his usual self breaking through. “Please, Maybank. I just don’t like watching you sulk.”

ㅤㅤJJ let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

ㅤㅤ“And yet, here you are, still talking to me,” she shot back.

ㅤㅤFor a moment, they just stood there, the tension between them shifting—still charged, but softer now. JJ’s shoulders weren’t as tense anymore.

ㅤㅤFinally, he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s go inside.”

ㅤㅤLyra nodded, falling into step beside him.

ㅤㅤHe still wasn’t telling her everything.

ㅤㅤBut he didn’t have to.

ㅤㅤShe’d stay right here, no matter how long it took for him to let her in.

ㅤㅤBut as they neared the Château, her stomach twisted. Parked at the front was a sleek, unfamiliar car.  A car that didn’t belong here. A bad feeling crept up her spine. Something was waiting for them.

ㅤㅤJJ, ever vigilant, cut the engine a few blocks back, tucking the bike discreetly into a side alley. They approached the house on foot, crouching low. A tense silence hung heavy in the air. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows, John B, who was yanked by JJ. Relief washed over Lyra, quickly followed by a surge of questions.

ㅤㅤ“Where were you, John B?” Lyra’s words tumbled out, laced with concern. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, and John B’s absence had only amplified the chaos. He looked tired, haunted by something she couldn't quite grasp.

ㅤㅤJohn B remained silent, his gaze distant. JJ, ever the pragmatist, filled the void.  “First, I almost got strangled to death by the Kooks, and now I’m on the hook for thirty grand. We should just dip,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration.

ㅤㅤJohn B cleared his throat.  “Okay, so where do you wanna go?” he asked.

ㅤㅤJJ’s face lit up. “Yucatan,” John B. scoffs lightly at his response. “No, I’m dead serious right now. Surf all day, and then we can just live off lobsters we catch with our bare hands,” he declared, his eyes gleaming with a fantasy escape.

ㅤㅤ“You just want to leave just because you got your ass beat?” 

ㅤㅤJJ flinched, reminded by the photos of dead bodies Sheriff Peterkin showed him, “You didn’t see the photos.” Right, the photos. JJ told her that the man in the photo died in a gruesome way. 

ㅤㅤ“I’d love nothing more than to jump on board to the next adventures with you guys,” Lyra confessed, her voice tinged with a longing that sent shivers down JJ’s spine. But the playful glint in her eyes dimmed as she bit her lip. “But my mom would unleash search parties across the island if I’m not back in an hour.” Disappointment laced her words, a stark contrast to the thrill of adventure simmering just beneath the surface.

ㅤㅤJohn B expertly navigated the boat towards the Monroe-Aragon’s dock, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sketched out his plan in his mind. In the back, Lyra and JJ sat shoulder-to-shoulder, a comfortable silence settling between them. The rhythmic slap of waves against the hull lulled them into a trance, broken only by the itch of curiosity gnawing at JJ.

ㅤㅤHe couldn’t resist a playful jab. “So, Lyra,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, “who’s the lucky guy you’re ditching us for tonight?”

ㅤㅤLyra’s head snapped towards him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of resignation and something deeper. “No one,” she sighed, a hint of disappointment clinging to her words. “I’m probably going in with my brother or Dad,” She pauses, biting her inner cheeks as she turns to JJ, her gaze softening. “Uhh, JJ,” she began, her voice dropping to a whisper filled with unspoken emotions. “I would’ve asked you to be my escort, but knowing John B, he wouldn’t let you leave. And you…” she trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck, “...you wouldn’t leave him all by yourself anyway since you’re a thrill seeker and the Midsummers is the opposite of thrill.”

ㅤㅤJJ stared back at her, his heart skipping a beat. The ambiguity hung heavy in the air, leaving him both strangely confused. Should he be honored that Lyra contemplated bringing him as her date? Is Lyra calling him a great friend for not abandoning John B? Was it supposed to be a compliment or the opposite? 

ㅤㅤAs they neared the dock, the golden light of the setting sun bathed Lyra’s face in a soft glow. The sea breeze toyed with her hair, making the strands dance around her face like something out of a dream. JJ, who had been stealing glances at her, found himself momentarily caught off guard. His usual snark faltered for a second.

ㅤㅤ“You look…” he started, then scoffed at himself as if annoyed by the thought. “Never mind.”

ㅤㅤLyra raised a brow. “What?”

ㅤㅤJJ shook his head, smirking as he turned back toward the horizon. “Nothin’. Just—sunset does you a favor, that’s all.”

ㅤㅤBefore she could respond, John B cut in, oblivious to the moment. “So Klyd practically issued a restraining order on Rafe?”

ㅤㅤLyra rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smirk tugging at her lips. “Yeah, well, can you blame him? I think he’d rather throw me into the ocean than let Rafe breathe the same air as me for more than five seconds.”

ㅤㅤ“Smart guy,” JJ muttered, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

ㅤㅤJohn B nodded, crossing his arms. “Honestly? For once, I gotta side with Klyd. If we’re ranking terrible ideas, ‘Rafe Cameron in Lyra’s general vicinity’ is, like, top-tier bad.”

ㅤㅤLyra exhaled a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “You guys are so overprotective.”

ㅤㅤJJ gave her a pointed look. “Yeah? And look where being underprotected got you.”

ㅤㅤLyra opened her mouth, ready with a retort, but all she could do was scoff, because, well, he wasn’t wrong.

ㅤㅤ“Hold up,” John B. cut in, his brows lifting as a slow grin spread across his face. “Did I hear that right? You were actually considering bringing JJ as your date?” His voice dripped with exaggerated shock. “Our JJ?”

ㅤㅤJJ scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Alright, relax.”

ㅤㅤBut John B wasn’t about to let it go. “Nah, man. You?” He pointed at JJ, then turned to Lyra. “And you?” His grin widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I mean, I get it—classic bad boy, tragic charm, surfer hair—”

ㅤㅤ“John B,” JJ warned, narrowing his eyes.

ㅤㅤJohn B held up his hands in surrender but kept smirking. “I’m just saying, never thought I’d see the day.”

ㅤㅤJJ leaned back, running a hand through his hair in an exaggerated display of indifference. “Yeah, well, Lyra came to her senses before making a huge mistake,” he shot back, his tone light, but something flickered beneath his words—too casual, too easy.

ㅤㅤLyra tilted her head, watching him. “Oh, so it would’ve been a mistake?”

ㅤㅤJJ opened his mouth, but for a second—just a second—he hesitated. The usual cocky response sat on the tip of his tongue, but his mind flashed back to the way her eyes had softened when she said she would’ve asked him. The way her voice had wavered just enough to make his stomach do something weird.

ㅤㅤHe scoffed, shaking his head. “For you? Yeah. You’d never hear the end of it. Whole island would be talking about how you lowered your standards.”

ㅤㅤJohn B laughed. “That’s the most roundabout way of saying you’re honored.”

ㅤㅤJJ kicked his foot out, nudging John B’s shin, but a smirk tugged at his lips despite himself.

ㅤㅤAnd just like that, the moment passed. But it lingered. Like the salty breeze, like the rocking of the boat, like the things neither of them was ready to say out loud.

ㅤㅤThe Pogue nudged against the familiar dock of Lyra’s home, John B. and JJ bid their temporary farewell, a blur of determined movement as they disembarked to enact their plan. Stepping inside, Lyra was swept off her feet—literally. Her mother whisked her away to her room for a full glam-up.

ㅤㅤLyra yearned to protest, to plead for her natural waves and a simpler look. Tonight, the last thing she wanted was to be the center of attention. But Kate saw things differently. This was their grand return to the Midsummers spotlight, and everything had to be immaculate—from the shimmering dresses and crisp suits to the tiniest details of their accessories and jewelry.

ㅤㅤ“Elyra Blair,” her father’s voice boomed with pride, warming her from the inside out. “You’ve blossomed into a fine woman. More than I ever dreamed. I love you, sweetheart.” He pulled her into a crushing hug, the scent of his familiar cologne grounding her. As she disentangled herself, Kate’s embrace enveloped her next.

ㅤㅤ“I love you, Dad. And thank you.”

ㅤㅤ“My beautiful Elyra,” Kate murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Remember that you are loved by so many.”

ㅤㅤHeat crept up Lyra’s neck. “I love you, Mom,” she mumbled, a smile betraying her fluster. As she stepped back, she couldn’t help but grin at the flurry of activity—her parents, buzzing with excitement like children on Christmas morning, and herself, a reluctant participant in their grand re-entry.

ㅤㅤHer reflection caught her off guard. The breathtaking pale pink dress clung to her curves, its asymmetric cut sculpting a perfect silhouette. A daring side slit teased the air with every step, and a single shoulder strap added a sultry elegance. Her hair cascaded in a waterfall of tamed silk, a testament to Kate’s meticulous artistry. The makeup, a delicate balance of light touches, enhanced her beauty rather than masked it.

ㅤㅤAlone again, Lyra wandered to the mirror. She blinked at the woman staring back—strong, poised, yet still undeniably herself. The insecurities she had carried for so long whispered in the back of her mind, but tonight, they felt… smaller. Not erased, but acknowledged. No longer burdens, but stepping stones.

ㅤㅤLooking out the window, she watched as the first stars peppered the darkening sky. Everything was aligning—her family, her friendships, her journey toward self-acceptance. Yet, a tiny voice inside warned her that perfect constellations never lasted long.

ㅤㅤDownstairs, the golden light of late afternoon bathed the Monroe-Aragon residence in a warm glow as Kate pirouetted in front of the mirror. Her emerald dress shimmered like a mermaid’s tail, catching the sunlight and scattering it across the room.

ㅤㅤLeaning against the doorway, Adrian let out a low whistle. “Darling Kate,” he breathed, admiration thick in his voice. “You are exquisite.”

ㅤㅤKate turned, her smile as dazzling as the scattered diamonds on her dress. “Adrian,” she murmured, warmth spreading through her chest. She leaned in, lips inches from his, when a whirlwind of giggles and excited chatter shattered the moment. Their children burst into the room, their youthful energy an amusing contrast to their parents’ poised elegance.

ㅤㅤLyra skidded to a stop, eyes widening. “Mom,” she gasped, “you’ll outshine Rose Cameron for sure! And that’s saying something.” A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Poor woman will be distraught.”

ㅤㅤKate chuckled, a rich, velvety sound. “Might as well steal the show, then.” She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers before planting a lingering kiss on Adrian’s cheek—a silent promise for later. The touch sent a jolt through him, a reminder that even years of marriage couldn’t dull their spark.

ㅤㅤAcross the room, Klyd was fidgeting with the cuff of his suit jacket. His impatience simmered beneath his cool facade. “Three hours,” he drawled, shaking his head in mock horror. “You could’ve built a spaceship in that time.”

ㅤㅤLyra scoffed, leveling a playful glare at him. “Says the one who looks like he rolled out of bed and called it a day. Seriously, Klyd, your hair… it looks like a mop.”

ㅤㅤTheir usual sibling bickering filled the air, only interrupted by their mother’s playful pinch—a silent plea for peace. Meanwhile, Adrian, ever the sentimental observer, captured every fleeting moment with his phone, his heart swelling at the chaotic symphony of their lives.

ㅤㅤWith the house finally locked up, Adrian, ever the gentleman, ushered Kate and Lyra toward the car. Klyd, already behind the wheel, drummed his fingers against it impatiently. The engine roared to life, and with it, the Monroe-Aragon family set off toward the Midsummers, toward an evening where old tensions and new possibilities would intertwine.

•─────⋅☾ 𝔫𝔶𝔵 ☽⋅─────•