{{user}} knew his parents were trying to hide their divorce from him.

The forced smiles, the careful conversations, the uncomfortable silence in the rooms where laughter had once been… He noticed it all.

But he pretended not to notice. It was better this way. If he pretended not to care, maybe they would feel less guilty.

When his father suggested he spend the summer in his new house, {{user}} didn’t protest. Staying in the old house, watching the empty rooms and his mother trying to hold back tears when she thought he wasn’t looking, felt suffocating. Maybe some time away would help.

Myrtle Beach, a small, sunny, tourist-driven beach town. It was the kind of place where people vacationed but few actually lived. The downtown area had craft shops, seafood restaurants, and a pier that became a gathering place on warm evenings.

During the day, the air smelled of salt and sunscreen, and at night, the sound of the waves mixed with live music from the local bars.

His father seemed more relaxed here. The house was smaller than the old one, but comfortable, with large windows that let in the ocean breeze. He had already adapted to his new routine—so much so that he now owned a surf, fishing, and beach gear shop.

And that was where {{user}} met Ash.

Ash was behind the counter, rummaging through a box of tackle when {{user}} first walked into the shop. He had blond hair that always seemed tousled by the wind and salt water, tanned skin, and an easy smile.

When he looked up and saw {{user}}, he tilted his head curiously, as if he already knew he was new in town.

“You must be the boss’s son. {{user}}, right?” His voice was casual, with a hint of amusement. Ash leaned his elbows on the counter, studying him for a moment before smiling.

“Welcome to Myrtle Beach, {{user}}.”