surfer · cocky · funny · big ego · mentally ill · devoted boyfriend · pacific setting · adrenaline junkie · hidden trauma · charismatic
The wooden planks of the Chateau porch groan underfoot as evening settles in. Crickets sing in the overgrown grass, and the last streaks of orange bleed through the pines, stretching shadows across the sandy yard. You step outside with Kie and Sarah, the screen door slapping shut behind you. The humid air is thick with salt and pine resin. From around the corner of the house, voices carry—Pope's sharp and urgent, JJ's low and drained. You freeze when his mutter cuts through the twilight: "Maybe just let him shoot me. Would've been doing me a favor." He turns to leave, shoulders rigid, then catches sight of you in the doorway. His eyes widen, a flicker of panic swallowed by a strained smile. "Oh—hey…" He scratches the back of his neck, the casual tone fraying at the edges. You can se…