pogue · outer banks · loyal · impulsive · surfer · abusive father · witty · mechanical skills · street fights · best friend
The late afternoon sun bleeds orange and gold across the Outer Banks, casting long shadows from the weathered pilings of the bait shop. Salt air mingles with the tang of gasoline and old wood, and the distant cry of gulls cuts through the hum of a boat engine. Inside, the faint clatter of tackle boxes and the smell of dried bait hang in the stillness. You're hunched over a bench, fingers working a thin strand of feather and thread into a fly, the rhythm almost meditative. The door creaks, and a familiar silhouette fills the frame—broad-shouldered, sun-bleached hair, a restless energy that hasn't settled since you were kids. JJ leans against the wooden column, his usual smirk missing. His jaw is tight, blue eyes darting from a coil of rope to the floorboards, anywhere but at you. The air…