riptide- outer banks

two | golden boy

    

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Sarah's brow knit together as she glanced at her little brother. Despite not sharing most of her physical features, he could not be more similar to her. The two of them were the favorite children—courtesy of the infamous Ward Cameron—but they hated it. Nothing was more exhausting than trying to please their father every second of every day.

But she still couldn't get one thing out of her head. "She flipped you off?" Sarah asked.

The front end of her car pulled into the driveway of Tannyhill as Logan loudly sighed. "Yup. I don't get it. I walked past her, Sarah." He said, turning to face his sister in the front seat. "I walked past her."

"Hmm."

Logan's brow flew together as they came to a stop. "Hmm? That's it? Are you serious right now?"

"Well, I just think the whole Kooks vs. Pogues thing is really stupid." Sarah admitted.

She opened her car door, forcing Logan to do the same as he stepped down onto the concrete below. Slamming the door shut, he half-ran to her, trying to catch up. "Yeah, no shit it's stupid. But she's so annoying. I mean, who flips someone off for breathing the same air as them?"

Sarah paused, stopping as she brought her nose to the sky. Then she tilted her head downwards at her brother. "Kori Maybank."

Logan's expression dropped as she stepped through the threshold of their house, leaving him behind. He just groaned and shook his head. "So freakin' annoying." He muttered.

The blonde irritated him to no end. It was almost as if there was an invisible string tying the two teenagers together. Not by friendship or any stereotypical bullshit like that, but by contempt. To put things simply, they were polar opposites. Logan was popular, rich, outgoing, and the quintessential image of the perfect son— the golden boy. Kori, on the farthest hand physically possible, couldn't give a shit less what people thought of her, was the bluntest and boldest person he'd ever met, and the antithetical epitome of being a Pogue. In other words, Kori Maybank was an enigma— much like their rivalry.

And it sure wasn't because of him. No, it was because of her. Just his mere presence seemed to set her off. And somewhere along the lines, his irritability had turned to hatred. Something about her cocky grin and green-eyed glare just royally pissed him off.

But it had stemmed from her. Maybe it was because he was a Kook and she was a Pogue. Maybe it was the stupid acrimony between the two social classes. Maybe it was both. Or maybe it was because she just had deep-seeded anger issues and–

"No, Rafe! I don't!"

Logan's eyes narrowed as he set his blue slushee down on the mahogany table situated next to his bed. The sun had gone down in the past hour, leaving a dusky hue inside the Cameron residence. His room was next to Sarah's and just down the hall from his dad's office. That meant he could normally hear every fight between him and his older brother.

As Logan stepped out of his room, he could see a soft glow from underneath the door at the end of the hall. Inside, he knew his dad was probably scolding Rafe for yet another thing he'd done wrong.

"I just can't deal with this anymore, Rafe! You're supposed to be setting an example for him, not the other way around."

Logan's brow came together as he stopped in front of the door. He pressed his ear against it, listening as his heart thumped inside his chest. They were talking about him.

"Dad, I–"

"I really don't wanna hear it, Rafe." Ward spat out. "Do you realize how pathetic it is that your fifteen year old brother listens better than you? Your fifteen year old brother! If anything, he should be the one screwing up! I can't–"

Logan swallowed hard, forcing liquid down the rough patch in his throat. He could hear his dad sigh, nothing but silence following. Then it evaporated as Ward's voice went hard.

"If you don't clean up your act, he'll be the one taking over the business, not you."

The threat loomed in the air momentarily before Rafe spoke up again. "Yes, sir."

"If you don't want to see that happen, then earn my trust. Earn it. Do you think you can do that?" Ward denigrated.

It was silent for a moment.

"Rafe, I've given you the money. Backup generators before the storm hits. Can you do that or do I need to ask Logan?"

"No."

Logan felt his breath catch in his throat as he strained his hearing. His older brother was barely audible at this point.

"What?"

"No, sir." Rafe said louder.

"Alright. That's it. Get out of my sight."

Logan's eyes went wide as shuffling sounded right outside the wood. He pulled his head away from the door just as it swung open. Rafe's gaze instantly shifted down to his younger brother standing adjacent to the doorway.

His gaze went hard as they locked eyes. "Show's over." He murmured, stepping past him and down the hallway.

Before Logan could do anything else, his dad appeared in the entrance. His face contorted into a confused expression as he brought a hand up to his shoulder. "Hey, buddy. What are you doing?"

"Oh, I just came to ask if—" He paused as the two began walking back to his room. "If you needed any help storm prepping. I mean, it's hitting tomorrow and–"

Ward chuckled, hand still clasping his son's shoulder as they reached his room. "Sarah's helping with that. You've done enough already. Get some rest." He said, patting his back and dropping his hand. "We'll get things finished tomorrow."

Logan nodded his head, regret wedging its way into his throat at his brother's words. "Okay. Night, dad."

Ward sent his son a smile before disappearing back behind the walls of his office. As Logan quietly shut his door, he pressed his back into it and brought his hands up to his skull. He didn't know how much longer he could do it— be the perfect, golden boy his father wanted him to be. It was a lot for someone so young and he was tired of it all.

Sometimes he thought he wanted to disappear. To just wither away into the decaying earth and break free from his father's exhausting standards. But that wasn't necessarily true. That feeling was entirely drowned out by the fact that he really just wanted to be found. To be seen. And not for being the golden boy, but for himself.

His dad only ever wanted to see him as the perfect son, though, and it was exhausting. The weight that came with being Ward Cameron's son virtually vanquished any other aspect of his life. And just because he carried it so well didn't mean it wasn't heavy.