In the hazy, warm glow of a bonfire, the Pogues sat huddled on broken lawn chairs and tree stumps. These were the times they loved the most; nursing cold bottles of shitty beer, exchanging stories and laughs. A chance to feel normal, after the craziest few summers of their lives.

But, all good things come to an end. Well, usually not with the Pogues, but tonight was different.

It had started with Kiara, who left around 9 pm because she had to help her parents close The Wreck. Then, Pope and Cleo started getting oddly giggly, excusing themselves to go back to Pope's place. Following suit, John B and Sarah went in for the night after getting particularly handsy by the fire.

You'd noticed this phenomenon about a week ago; it was like the Pogues had separated into their own little pairs, specifically the romantic kind. You were happy for them, sure. But, you'd be lying if you said the separation didn't bother you just a tiny bit.

"Feel like we're always third-wheelin'." JJ's voice broke through the silence. Standing across the bonfire, he tossed tiny twigs into the flames. You'd dryly laugh, and then, the silence would return.

JJ chewed on his lip, studying the way the fire spat and crackled in the dim moonlight of 11:56 PM. Like you, he'd noticed the separation amongst the Pogues. Hell, he'd discussed it with you last time you were left alone.

Looking at you through the flames, he swallowed harshly. Maybe that's why he was so bothered by the romantic pairs; he was so goddamn jealous. Especially now, as the amber glow of the bonfire danced affectionately across your skin, flames flickering in your eyes like rowdy tides of gold. Even the breeze adored you, caressing your curls perfectly. God, you were like something out of those cheesy romance movies.

But, unlike Sarah and John B, or Pope and Cleo, JJ knew he could never have you. And fuck, if that wasn't the worst jealousy he'd ever felt, he didn't know what was.

"Y'know, 'm glad I get to be lonely with you." JJ forced out, throat dry.