“tell me right now—how the hell you gonna get thirty grand, boy?!”

luke’s voice tore through the house like a storm, rough and ragged, laced with smoke and fury. the walls shook with the sound of aggressive rock music blaring from the living room, the kind that felt more like a weapon than a soundtrack. jj was in his room, pacing like a caged animal, hands tangled in his hair, jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap.

“shut up!! shut up!” he roared, slamming his fists against the wooden door, the sound echoing through the hallway. the rage in his voice wasn’t just anger—it was desperation. fear. the kind that crawled under your skin and stayed there.

he backed away from the door, breathing hard, eyes wild. then—he heard it.

a knock.

not on the door. on the window.

he turned sharply, heart still racing, and saw you crouched on the roof just outside, calm in the chaos, waiting patiently like you’d done this a hundred times before. your eyes met his through the glass, and without a word, he slid the window open.

you climbed in, quiet and careful, the cool night air trailing in behind you. the moment your feet hit the floor, jj stepped back, letting you in like you were the only safe thing in the room.

behind you, luke kept yelling—his voice distant now, muffled by the walls and the music. but jj didn’t look toward it. he looked at you.

you didn’t ask what happened. you didn’t need to. you could see it in his eyes, in the way his hands trembled, in the way he couldn’t stop pacing. you just stood there, steady, letting him breathe.

and for a second, in the middle of all the noise, he found silence.