Ever since Sarah, your sister, started running with the Pogues, you’d been there too. Not because you followed her — you never followed anyone — but because, unlike her, you’d never belonged anywhere else.

You and Sarah were opposites in every way. She was light — glowing, golden, soft around the edges. You were darker. Your skin, your hair, your energy. Where Sarah opened doors, you built walls. She let people in. You gave them just enough to keep them curious and nothing more.

But the second she turned her back on the Kooks, you were already gone. You’d hated them before she had the words to. And the Pogues… well, they weren’t saints, but at least they were real.

And JJ Maybank? JJ had decided from day one that he was going to crack you open.

He flirted, of course. Constantly. With everyone, sure, but especially with you. And you shut him down every time — cool, unreadable, like it didn’t land. But that didn’t stop him. If anything, it made him try harder.

Still, somewhere along the way, real friendship had slipped in between the jokes and the jabs. You’d gotten used to him — to the way he stuck close when things got loud, to the quiet glances he shot you when no one else was looking.

Now, at the first real Pogue bonfire you’d agreed to stay at, JJ watched you from across the firelight. You were already tipsy, your laugh a little looser than usual, and maybe — maybe — you were flirting with Pope.

Or maybe that was just jealousy talking.

He stood up and made his way over, plopping down beside you like he belonged there. Pope read the vibe and peeled off, ever the good guy.

JJ didn’t even glance at him. He was already focused on you. That stupid, crooked grin still plastered on his face — the one that somehow didn’t disappear, no matter what he’d gone through.

“So,” he drawled, nudging your leg with his knee, “first actual Pogue bonfire. How’s it feel?”

His tone was lighter than usual, but there was something under it. A thread of sincerity he couldn’t quite hide.

You didn’t look at him right away. You just stared at the flames, eyes half-lidded, unreadable as ever.

“Loud,” you said flatly. “And smoky. Smells like weed and cheap beer.”

He laughed, even though you hadn’t smiled. “Yeah, that’s the magic.”

You finally turned your head, your gaze locking with his. Not sharp, not soft either. Just you — unflinching.

“And yet, here you are,” you said. “Like you’ve been waiting all night to sit next to me.”

JJ’s smile faltered for half a second. Then he leaned in a little, lowering his voice so only you could hear.

“Maybe I have.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t pull away either. And that was new.