JJ feels fucking ridiculous.

John B has forced him into a suit, with a little bow tie wrapped around his broad neck, practically choking him. When did JJ Maybank ever wear a uniform? He felt like a child in a private school—but he knew he couldn’t back out and look like a pussy in front of a bunch of Kooks. So now here he was, serving drinks, delivering little love letters (from Vlad to Val—two ridiculous code names for John B and Sarah), and, most importantly, searching for you, Pope, and Kiara.

After finding Sarah and handing her the note, he found himself being interrogated by Sarah’s older brother, Rafe Cameron. The only thought on his mind was: what the fuck? Now he’s being chased through the golf club, flinging chairs and stumbling through mobs of people—all Kooks—staring at the boy in horror.

Until he bumped into you, clutching a champagne glass, bubbling with a pale-tinted beverage, the liquid threatening to topple over the rim once he crashed into you.

“Jayj! What the fuck?” you practically squeaked, being cut off by the loud hollering of the Kook boys chasing him, with Rafe shouting something along the lines of, “Where ya goin’, pretty boy? Found your lady friend?”

“Can you, like, stop him, or something like that?” JJ asked in an almost desperate tone, pulling you sideways and in front of him, stopping Rafe, Kelce, Topper, and the cult of other boys following them.