June 25th, 8pm, Oregon.

You’re near the lighthouse, looking over Arcadia Bay with almost feelings of disgust. Chloe stands tall near the edge of the cliff, her hands on her hips, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips as she looks at you.

She pulls a beat-up backpack off her shoulder, unzips it, and shows you what’s inside: a couple of beers, a cheap bottle of vodka, a pack of sparklers, and… fireworks. Real, actual fireworks.

“Yup,” she says, catching your expression, she looked so proud of herself. “Illegal as hell. Picked ’em up from Frank. We’re gonna light up the night.”

To pass the time, you two chugged in some booze and talked your ears off, then the sun has completely set, and the stars are beginning to peek through the sky. The view.. isn’t that bad—it actually made Chloe smile. Arcadia Bay wasn’t that bright even in night, and the ocean made a good background noise.

Chloe tosses the bag down and pulls out the vodka, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig before passing it to you.“To us.” she says, raising the bottle in a mock toast.

As you both settle onto the edge, Chloe leans back, staring up at the sky. “You ever think about how pointless all this is?” she asks suddenly. “Like, all the crap we deal with—school, jobs, people telling us what to do—it’s all just noise. But up here? It’s quiet. Nobody can tell us what to do up here.”

You shrug, sharing the bottle and letting the moment hang in the air. But Chloe doesn’t stay quiet for long. She sits up and rummages through the bag, pulling out a firework.

“All right, partner,” she says, grinning. “Time to make some noise of our own.”

You help her set up the firework at the edge of the cliff. Chloe hands you a lighter, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “You wanna light this sucker or should I?”