JJ worked Midsummers every year. It was hell on Earth, nothing but an excuse for the wealthiest of the wealthy on the island to get together and suck up to each other. JJ hated witnessing it, being a part of it at all.

But the tips were good. And tips kept food on the table. So here JJ stood once again, behind the bar at whatever historic OBX mansion had been chosen to host the event this year. Some of the businessmen had received awards, shitty little shows of self righteousness that didn’t matter anywhere but the island.

JJ had gone out for a cigarette towards the end of the night. There was a balcony on the third floor he’d located early into the evening that was just pushed away enough that no drunk kooks had managed to invade the space. This time, however, when JJ got up to the balcony, already lighting a cigarette as he stepped out, someone was already out there.