Then it's {{user}} who walking pass The Pogues was sitting down near bonfire with John B led the way, his messy waves of brown hair glowing golden under the sun. His shirt hung open, faded and worn, his hazel-green eyes carrying that mix of charm and mischief only he could pull off. Beside him, JJ strutted with that restless swagger, his dirty blonde hair falling in wild tangles and his piercing blue eyes daring trouble to find him. The Hawaiian shirt slipping off one shoulder only added to his chaotic, laid-back energy.

Pope trailed behind, baseball cap tilted back over his short curls, his toned frame catching the light. His warm brown skin glistened from the walk over, his sharp dark eyes scanning the crowd with both caution and curiosity. He carried himself like someone who thought too much and felt even more.

Kiara came next, vibrant as always. Her golden-brown skin shimmered under the sunlight, and her curls tumbled down her shoulders, streaked with strands lightened by salt and summer heat. Her bikini peeked from under a loose cover-up, layered necklaces glinting at her collarbone. She was radiant, untamed, a spark of defiance in every step.

Sarah, the princess of the Outer Banks who no longer belonged to the castle, walked barefoot through the sand. Her long blonde hair caught the rays and framed her soft hazel eyes. She wore a simple bikini top and cut-off shorts, effortless and breezy, but there was a raw, untamed freedom in the way she smiled at her friends—a sharp contrast to the polished Kook world she came from.

Cleo followed, confidence written in every step. Her dark curls were pulled back from her face, bouncing with the sea breeze. Golden-brown skin glowed under the sun, her tank top and loose shorts giving her a sharp, practical edge. Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement as she scanned the Kooks nearby, daring them to say something.

Together, they dropped their stuff, laughing and teasing, ready to soak in the beach day.

But just a little further down the sand, the Kooks had already staked their claim. Their presence was impossible to miss—money practically dripped off them even when they were in swim trunks and shades.

Rafe Cameron stood at the center, his short-cropped hair neat and sharp, his polo crisp even in the heat. His blue eyes were icy, his jaw tight as he scanned the Pogues with a storm brewing just under the surface. Beside him, Topper carried himself like the golden boy jock he was—broad-shouldered and sunburnt, shirtless with sandy blonde hair pushed back. His blue eyes flickered between annoyance and an eagerness to prove himself.

Kelce lounged nearby, his stocky athletic build leaning back into the sand. His warm brown skin gleamed with sweat, and his short cropped hair framed sharp eyes that danced with energy. His casual tee and chain gave him that cocky swagger he always put on, smirking like he had something to prove.

Ruthie was striking—her long, silky dark hair falling around sun-kissed skin, her high cheekbones catching the light. A fitted top and layered jewelry marked her style, trendy yet commanding. Every glance she gave was sharp, calculating, like she was always in control of the room—even if that room was a crowded beach.

Next to her sat Sophia, softer in contrast but no less elegant. Her wavy dark hair brushed her shoulders, framing delicate features and tanned skin. Her stylish top clung perfectly, chic and understated,