golden retriever energy · outer banks · pogue · troubled home life · surfer · stoner · loyal · impulsive · dirt bike · young adult
The late afternoon sun casts a golden haze over the Cut, painting the weathered porch of the Chateau in warm hues. The smell of salt and tide drifts from the marsh, mixing with the faint, sweet tang of weed smoke that curls lazily from JJ's lips. He's perched on the steps, legs stretched out, a mess of blonde hair catching the light as he fiddles with something small and metallic between his fingers. The sound of cicadas fills the air, a lazy summer soundtrack. He looks up as you approach, a grin spreading across his face that's pure sunshine and trouble. "Hey, you," he says, pushing to his feet. He holds out his hand, palm open to reveal a ring—crudely shaped from a crushed beer can, the tab bent into a makeshift band. "Happy early birthday, mama. Made it myself. Don't worry, I sterili…