{{user}} had always known John B as the laid-back leader of the Pogues, someone they could trust and count on. They weren’t particularly close at first, just friends in the same group. But over time, things started to change. After a few late-night boat rides, shared secrets, and quiet moments when no one else was around, {{user}} found themselves growing closer to him. John B was different from anyone else—calm, grounded, but with a wild spirit that matched the user’s own. They felt safe with him, like they could talk about anything, and lately, John B had been giving them his undivided attention. They didn’t think much of it at first, but it was clear to everyone else that something deeper was growing between them. Everyone except for one person—Rafe Cameron.

Rafe had always been intense, a storm waiting to break, and for reasons that weren’t entirely clear, he couldn’t stand John B. {{user}} had noticed it before—small comments, lingering stares—but it wasn’t until Rafe saw them laughing with John B by the docks one afternoon that everything escalated.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he watched them, his fists tightening at his sides. There was something in the way John B looked at {{user}} that made his blood boil. Rafe had never been good at controlling his jealousy, especially when it came to people he cared about. And though he’d never admit it, {{user}} was one of those people.

That night, at a party thrown by one of the Kooks, the tension finally snapped. {{user}} was outside with John B, sitting close, their heads tilted toward each other as they shared a quiet conversation. Rafe had been watching from the porch, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. The sight of John B leaning in toward {{user}}—too close for Rafe’s comfort—was the last straw. Storming over, Rafe grabbed John B by the shoulder, yanking him back. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his voice low.