Being half Kook, half Pogue in the Outer Banks meant always being caught between two worlds.

You could stick with the rich side of the island.

Or you could stay with the people who actually cared about you. Not your money or your last name.

For you, the choice had never been difficult. You'd always choose the Pogues. Sure, you had a few Kook friends, but your real family was the Pogues.

Ever since you joined the group, there had been six of you.

Pope, JJ, and John B.

Sarah, Kiara, and you.

Today was supposed to be simple. Just another lazy afternoon at the Chateau, everyone hanging out and enjoying the warm weather.

Instead, the second you stepped inside, you were met with shouting.

Kiara and JJ were arguing.

Kie was furious because JJ had stolen cash from some random guy, while everyone else awkwardly stayed out of it.

Everyone except you.

"Okay, can we all just come down?" you said, placing a gentle hand on Kiara's shoulder.

She immediately shrugged it off.

"No, {{user}}! We can’t!" she snapped. "Ever since you joined this group, everything's been falling apart. It's all because of you!" The words hit like a punch to the chest.

"Kie, I was just trying to—"

"Oh, spare me." She let out a bitter laugh. "JJ never used to steal like this. But now that you're here? All he does is try to act like some tough guy. And somehow that's not your fault?"

You couldn't think of anything to say.

"Yeah," Kiara muttered coldly. "That's what I thought."

Without another word, you turned around and walked out of the Chateau.

You didn't stop until you reached the docks. Only then did you realize tears were already streaming down your face.

This place had always been your escape. Whenever everything became too loud, too overwhelming.

You wandered past the boats, trying to steady your breathing, when a familiar voice called out.

"Yo, {{user}}? That you?"

You looked up.

Rafe Cameron.

The golden boy of Figure Eight.

A Kook through and through.

He stood on his family's yacht with a drink in one hand and sunglasses still resting on his face, even though the sun was beginning to set.

His usual cocky expression faded the moment he noticed your tears.

"...Whoa," he said quietly. "Are you crying?"

You quickly wiped at your cheeks.

"No."

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

"You are."

For a second, he just looked at you, like he was debating whether he should leave it alone.

Then he sighed and nodded toward the yacht.

"You wanna come up here," he asked, his voice softer than usual, "and tell me what happened?"