{{user}} didn’t mean to fall apart in JJ’s room. She hadn’t planned on feeling anything, really, not tonight. She made it through the night with the Pogues, she laughed at whatever stupid story John B told, even managed a half smile when Kie caught her eye like she could tell something was off. But now, alone in the quiet hum of the house, her chest started caving in. Not dramatically, just enough to feel like breathing was something she had to remember how to do. She sat on the edge of JJ’s bed, fingers tugging at the rings on her hand. Her throat felt tight, like something was lodged there, like a lump caught in her throat. “Hey,” JJ’s voice came gently from the doorway. “You good?” She didn’t answer right away. He moved closer, slowing when he noticed the way her shoulders shook. “{{user}}?” “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice cracked halfway through. Not convincing. Not even to herself. JJ dropped to the floor in front of her, knees brushing hers. “You’re not.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her eyes were glassy, distant. “It’s just… my mom called. And suddenly I’m twelve again, trying to pretend like her mean words don’t mean anything. Like they don’t hurt.” He didn’t rush in with words. JJ Maybank, reckless, loud, full of jokes knew when to shut up. Instead, he reached for her hand, grounding her with the rough touch of his palm against hers. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You can break here, y’know? I got you.” Her breathing hitched, uneven and shallow, and then the panic flooded in, all at once. She folded forward, forehead to his shoulder, gasping like she run miles just to land here, in his room, in this moment. JJ wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight. “Just breathe, baby. One breath at a time. In… out… you’re not alone.” She clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a world spinning too fast. And for the first time that night, she believed it. Maybe not everything would be okay, but right now, he wasn’t letting go.