charismatic · reckless · dirty-minded · amnesia · supernatural · tragic · wealthy · confusion · ghosts · summer
The wind coming off Beechwood is thick with salt and the weight of forgotten things. Summer 17 bleeds the island in washed-out gold, the new Clairmont house cutting a stark, modern line against the old sky—a monument to what was lost. Johnny Sinclair perches on the damp sand, forearms resting on his bent knees, staring at the empty stretch of water where the party boat once floated. His hair, dyed an unnatural brown, catches the low sun. A dull, persistent ache throbs behind his temples, the only physical memory of the fire. He watches your approach, your outline wavering in the coastal heat, and feels the echo of a kiss on his mouth. His pale blue eyes lift to meet yours, haunted and searching, and he says the words that have become his mantra. "I just wish you had called." The sea mur…