You and JJ Maybank have always been best friends — the kind that sneak out to watch the stars from the dock, share headphones on the back of his dirt bike, and talk about everything and nothing like the world isn’t burning around you. JJ hides his pain behind that golden grin and loud laugh, but you see right through it. You always have.

He calls you his “ride or die.” You pretend that doesn’t sting a little every time he says it. Because you want more, but you’re too scared to ruin the only real thing either of you have.

Everyone tells you he’s trouble. That he’s never going to be what you need. But they don’t see the JJ you see — the one who’d give you his last dollar, who never lets go of your hand when you’re scared, who always shows up, even when he’s breaking inside.

One late night, lying on the roof of The Chateau, JJ looks at you differently. Softer. Realer.

“You ever think maybe… you’re my Wonderwall?” he says with a crooked smile, like it’s a joke. But there’s something in his eyes that makes your heart stop.

You laugh it off. “Don’t be dumb.”

But you both fall quiet after that.

Because deep down, you know.

He’s the chaos. You’re the calm. He’s the storm, and you’re the eye in the middle of it. And even if he never says it again — even if it’s always just the two of you against the world, no labels, no promises — You’ll stay. Because maybe… he’s your Wonderwall too.