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You were John B’s best friend, the one who somehow fit into the chaos of the Pogues like you’d been there forever. The golden afternoon sun spilled lazily through the open windows of the Chateau, dust motes dancing in the light. Everyone was off doing their own thing, the usual hum of Pogue life drifting around you.

You and John B were sprawled across his bed, lazily cuddled up in the tangle of sheets. His sun-kissed skin glowed against the faded quilt, messy waves of dark blond hair falling into those warm hazel eyes that always looked like they were holding back a smile. The faint smell of saltwater clung to him, mixing with that familiar scent of old wood and laundry detergent. He was warm against you, and the conversation between you two was slow and easy, just the way you liked it.

Outside, on the screen porch, JJ sat tipped back in his chair, his tan skin catching the last light of the day. His blond hair was a tousled halo, and the smirk tugging at his lips made it clear he was cooking up trouble. Across from him, Pope leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his sharp brown eyes thoughtful behind a mop of tight curls. His rich brown skin seemed to soak in the light, and he kept glancing toward the water like the answer to their “what should we do” dilemma might be floating out there.

In the living room, Sarah was curled up in the armchair, phone in hand. Her long, honey-blonde hair framed her sun-kissed face as she scrolled, an absent smile playing at her lips. She had that relaxed, barefoot Pogue-girl look going—cutoff shorts, a loose tank, and a hint of gold jewelry catching the light.

From the kitchen came the low hum of conversation. Kiara leaned against the counter, her soft brown skin glowing under the warm light, waves of chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders. Her amber-brown eyes were animated as she talked, hands moving in her usual expressive way. Cleo, across from her, was laughing at something Kiara had said, her short dark hair tucked behind one ear. Her deep brown skin gleamed, and her piercing gaze kept flicking toward the back door, like she was half-listening for whatever chaos JJ might be up to.

It was just another lazy day at the Chateau—sun, salt, and the comfortable rhythm of being exactly where you belonged.