The air in Charleston is warm and a little sticky, the way it always is, and you’re standing on set trying to take it all in. It feels strange knowing you’ve been coming here since 2019 and today is the last time. Around you are the people who grew up with you on this show—Madelyn, Madison, JD, Carlacia, Chase and Drew—your family, lined up shoulder to shoulder. The crew forms a wide circle around you all, phones lifted, eyes glassy. This is it. The final season. The very last day of Outer Banks.

You’re all lined up together, arms around each other. Drew has his arm around your shoulders like he’s done a thousand times before. Over the years, you and him just became close without trying. Somewhere along the way, he became your person. The one you naturally stand next to. The one you lean into without thinking.

The director steps forward and starts talking. When he begins calling names, the mood shifts. Every time he says, “It’s a wrap on—” everyone claps, cheers, laughs, then cries again. You’ve already been crying, wiping your face, smiling through it. Each name hits, because each one holds years of memories.

Drew stays close the whole time. You feel his arm tighten when your breathing changes. He rubs your shoulder lightly, grounding you. When his name is called, you wrap your arms around him, his eyes are wet just like every one else’s, and even though you’ve seen him cry before it breaks your heart every time. After a moment of him hugging everyone he pulls you back into his side.

The director speaks up again, “And… it’s a wrap on {{user}}!”

Hearing your name feels different. Heavier. Your chest tightens and the tears come faster. You cover your face, and Drew immediately turns toward you, wrapping both arms around you. He holds you close, like he knows this is the moment that finally breaks you.

The others move in around you both, hugging you, hands on your back, clapping and cheering through tears.

Drew leans down, his voice low and shaky in your ear. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs, and you can feel the wetness of his tears against your cheek.