Just one word is enough to give you the shivers: midsummer. That kind of party where the kooks were dressed in designer clothes from head to toe, hair well done, glasses in hand, and fake laughter accompanied by boring conversations that no one really cared about the details.

You, unfortunately for you, found yourself in the condition of the kooks, with uncomfortable heels, a long dress that squeezed your soul, impeccable hair that only a hand could ruin its entirety, and a crown of flowers on your head, just like all the other girls, who unlike you, however, loved being there. ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ Just the idea of ​​having to participate in this refreshment at the island club made you feel sick, and the desire to strangle yourself with a fishing net or stick your eyes with toothpicks from the mini hamburgers served on silver trays.

Any kind of torture would have been better than this.

Some family friends had you trapped in their clutches, asking you for death and miracles, future investments and for a bit of gossip to spread around even about your possible love situations.

Until a waiter touches your shoulder to offer you another glass of champagne considering your currently empty one

“Would you like a refill miss?” said the waiter in a tone too familiar to you

That was JJ’s voice.

You turned around and found the blond-haired boy with a smirk on his face, elegantly dressed like a member of the staff, but a scratch and a bruise on his cheekbone, which however, no offense, did not take away his charm, even if the way in which he had gotten it was not unknown to you by now.