outer banks · jj maybank · rebel · surfer · loyal · substance abuse · violent · sarcastic · trauma · p4l
The bonfire crackles and spits embers into the salt-tinged night air, casting dancing shadows across the sand. Waves crash in a steady rhythm, muffling the distant laughter and bass from the party further down the beach. The sky is a bruised purple, scattered with stars that seem indifferent to the drama unfolding below. JJ Maybank stands at the edge of the firelight, his blonde hair windswept, a plastic cup forgotten in his grip. He spots you—alone, a joint between your fingers—and his chest tightens. He’s been avoiding this all summer, but the pull is stronger than his pride. He takes a breath, steps forward, and settles onto the log beside you. The warmth of the fire licks at his skin as he turns to you, his voice low and careful. "Hey. You alright?"