Stranded Love

Stupid Thing, Good Outcome?

DAY TWO

Kiara is awoken by the hungry grumble of her stomach and a sharp pain in her shoulder and hip on the side she slept on, not that she got much sleep whatsoever. Every muscle and tendon is screaming with a pressing ache. The physical exertion her body faced yesterday is definitely catching up to her, as is her lack of food. The amount of adrenaline that flooded her these past few days has finally drained away and reveals how sore and hungry and tired she is.

It's fair to say that the first night on Poguelandia was pretty shit. They didn't have much of a shelter to protect them from the elements and nor did they have anything proper to sleep on yet. The fire didn't last all night so she woke up cold. The sand was hard and a little wet. The Pogues roughed it the first night but it should get better from here on out as they add to their island.

There's been many problems already but it's their problems and she wouldn't have it any other way. Kiara would rather this than the prison of her parent's house on Figure Eight. The cuffs are off and she's free to do whatever she pleases with her Pogues.

Last night's talk with JJ was something she really needed. She feels rejuvenated from it and has regained her spirits that had basically been undiscoverable yesterday. Although some guilt still dwindles, a sort of annoying itch at the back of her head, Kiara feels much better about herself.

I'd rather it be me than you.

JJ's words stir something deep within her that she cannot seem to pinpoint. Yes, a sense of hot anger scorches her insides where she wants to storm up to him and yell in his face about how he shouldn't think that way. That he shouldn't think he's expendable in the face of someone else in danger, cause he isn't – he's irreplaceable. She would go on an intense spiel about how his life doesn't mean any less than others. How he means so much to people. To the Pogues. To her. That they care. That she cares. Because Kiara cares so fucking much. It makes her burn fervently that he doesn't see it. He won't allow himself to see it because of his crusty, good-for-nothing father – oh how she wishes she could break his nose with her elbow this time – who has scarred the golden-hearted Maybank boy into believing he isn't worthy of love. JJ knows but cannot accept that the Pogues, that Kiara, would take a bullet for him in a heartbeat.

But she doesn't blame him for how skewed his thought process is. He's damaged, rightfully and incredibly so. He's been failed by his mother and he's been failed by his father, left to fend for himself in a world so against him, whether it because of social status or the reputation that he has been labelled with because of Luke Maybank. That fucking bastard. Wasted local salt that did nothing but hustle people and burden his son with so much trauma from the punches that were thrown, the bruises that bloomed and the blood that was spilled, just because he spiralled, resorted to Barry's coke and excessive amounts of alcohol, all to take it out on JJ and blame him for his mother's abandonment. Kiara wishes hell and more on Luke.

JJ is nothing like his father. Luke can never say he was loyal to anything other than his drug and alcohol addiction. But JJ, well, his undying loyalty cannot be faulted. Although his self-destructiveness can lead the Pogues into a world of shit, he does it because they're all he has. He would do anything for them. Take the fall for Pope. Attempt to break John B out of jail. Leap to her aid when a machete is reared. He isn't the noble type but hell is he devoted to protecting his family.

Kiara properly stirs when she hears movement and chatter around her. She's been conscious for a fair while but hasn't had it in her to fully move and stretch her stiffness out. Maybe she's been avoiding finding out how much her body truly resents her when she decides to groan into a sitting position.

"Sarah, you know–"

"–stupid things have good outcomes all the time. I know, JJ. Doesn't mean you should be doing them."