P4L, carpe diem (JJ Maybank)

034

We ran to a junk garage, laying low. I stayed at JJ's side, as he had one hand around my waist. As we ran away, we heard a gunshot. I worried to myself, praying it wasn't my brother.

Afterwards, we heard an engine. An airplane engine.

We looked up to the sky, watching as the airplane went away. "Fuck," I murmured.

"There goes the gold," JJ said, watching it fly away.

"Shit!" Pope yelled, turning around and holding his hands on his head. He was now entirely pissed.

JJ let go of me, kicking a plastic lawn chair. I looked at Kie, who had the same look that was on my face. Disappointed, but anxious.

Pope threw an old baseball, chucking it towards the other side of the garage. "Fuck!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. He grabbed a wooden baseball bat, and swung it at an old TV screen, shattering it into pieces. "God damn it!"

I took a few steps backwards, so I wouldn't be hit by glasses or broken chips.

He continued to swing, as me and Kie watched like little kids who watched kids do weed on the street, wondering, "is that how people feel satisfied?"

Pope continued to go at the objects around the area, breaking them in usually one swing; and if they didn't break, he hit them again. And again. And again. He shouted as he did, which in his POV, made sense.

I looked at JJ, who had the same look on our face. We were in shock at his outburst. I mean, we all knew it was going to happen at some point. But it was still shocking.

Pope grabbed a trash can, throwing it across the room. "Fuck!!" Exhausted from the yelling and whacking, he collapsed on an old twine chair. He sobbed, out of anger, frustration, and another thing, but I wouldn't consider it sadness.

"Pope," Kie said, walking towards him.

"Yeah, dude," JJ said, walking towards him and pulling something out of his pocket. "I was wondering when this was gonna happen." He stopped in front of him, holding out a vape pen. "Here you go chief."

Pope looked at the joint, then back up at J. "A little weed never hurt no one."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that wasn't necessarily true.

"JJ," I said, in a warning tone.

He looked back at me. "Relax, Dylan." I held my hands up, surrendering.

"You know he doesn't smoke," Kie added. Pope reached up, grabbing it. JJ sat down beside him, watching as Pope considered using it. "Pope," Kie said. "Yeah, what is that gonna help?"

Pope looked up at me and Kie. I knew that looked he had, and I finally realized what the other emotion was. I knew it very well, and it took me years to figure out the key at hiding it.

Fucking disappointment. Not at me or Kie. Not at JJ. Instead, himself.

He sobbed. "I lost my scholarship," he explained, voice cracking. "Walked out in the middle of the interview. Every— it's gone. It's not gonna happen."

I let out a slight chuckle.

"You did that for us?" Kie asked.

"No. Not for us." He stood up, standing in front of Kie. "For nothing."

JJ stood up. "I'm here for you, Pope," he said, grabbing his shoulders, appearing from his back. "Welcome to my world."

"JJ-"

"What, Dylan? He's right. It doesn't matter anymore." I bit back some words, knowing my mouth would get me in trouble.

Pope leaned against a wooden pillar, bringing the pen to his lips and inhaling. I stepped forward. "You don't have to do that," Kie said, confidentially.

A puff of vapor exited his mouth. "What do you care?"

I scoffed. I tried to bite my words, but I was pissed too.

I turned around, putting my hands on my head, but was interrupted. "Bird?" I asked, running towards him. I appeared out of nowhere, from behind the corner.

I quickly ran over to him, worried. My eyes scoured his body, making sure he was completely fine. "JB!" I looked at his hands, which were doused in a thick red tone.

Blood.

I grabbed his wrists, confirming my suspicion. "Whose blood is this?"

A cop car siren's began getting nearer. My brother jumped behind a box. It was heading back towards the airport.

"Shit."