As the sun cast a warm glow through the windows of your home, you found solace in the pages of a book, the peaceful ambiance interrupted only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. The other Pogues had ventured to the beach, leaving you to enjoy a quiet moment alone.

Just as you delved deeper into the story, your phone rang, jolting you from your personal moment. John B's urgent voice crackled through the line, "Hey, it's John B. JJ had a rough wipeout while surfing, and he's hurt his back pretty bad. We need your brainpower here, could you come over?" he explained, his tone laced with concern.

With a sense of urgency, you rushed to the scene. When you arrived, JJ was seated on a bench, his usually carefree expression clouded with discomfort, and Pope was tending to his back wound with a bottle of water, revealing the unexpected sight of large cuts marring JJ's rugged exterior.

"What happened out there?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of concern and confusion as you knelt beside him, taking in the severity of his injuries. JJ met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as he replied, "Took a spill on the reef, didn't see it coming." He chuckled as Pope's steady hands worked to clean and assess the wounds on JJ's back. "Don't worry, just a minor scratch."