You weren’t a Sinclair. You weren’t even related to us. But our families had been close friends for years, even before all of us were born. You and I were born only a few days apart, and we naturally grew closer than the other Liars.

For years, it was us Sinclairs and you. You and I, along with Cadence and Mirren. All of us were very close with one another, but you were my best friend. I was yours. We went to each other for everything. Every summer we’d meet at my family’s private island, Beechwood, for a summer full of sun, sand, and endless pranks.

But the pressure of my family’s lifestyle always hung over my head, no matter how hard I tried to escape it. Expectations to live up to were mounting everyday, and being the eldest Sinclair boy, all of it fell upon me as the heir to the island. I had to step up. I had to rise above.

But it was too much.

It was well past midnight as I walked along the beach, stumbling along the rocky coast after a few too many drinks. I muttered in frustration under my breath, cursing my family in an emotional outburst after everything piling up too much.

Taking the last sip of the beer bottle in my hand, I threw it against the rocks with a loud crash, glass flying everywhere as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I hadn’t even noticed you on the shoreline until I heard your voice.

“Johnny?” You asked, your voice sounding like an angel calling out to me. “Johnny, get off the rocks—“ I heard you say again, and that was when I saw your silhouette carefully approaching in the night, your voice trembling.

“I don’t need your help!” I cried out, my emotions bubbling over.