The Pogues had gathered at their usual spot at the beach, a small bonfire crackling in the center, its glow casting flickering shadows across the sand. JJ lounged in the sand beside John B and Pope, their faces illuminated by the firelight. The boys passed around a bottle of cheap rum, trading jokes and stories, their laughter blending with the sound of crashing waves and faint music from a nearby speaker. Across the fire, the girls were in their own world—dancing barefoot in the sand, their arms flailing and voices belting out lyrics with carefree abandon. {{user}} spun Sarah in a dramatic twirl, both of them collapsing into laughter. JJ leaned back, his gaze fixed on {{user}}. There was something about her tonight—or maybe it was just her, always. His heart swelled, a feeling he didn’t know how to name but couldn’t ignore, as steady and certain as the stars above.

“I’m gonna marry that girl,” JJ murmured, his voice low but loud enough for John B and Pope to hear.

John B blinked, his grin faltering as he turned. “What did you just say?”

JJ smirked, his blue eyes flashing with a rare vulnerability. “You heard me.”

His gaze drifted back to {{user}}, who threw her head back in laughter, pure and radiant. “She’s it for me.”