~𝒪𝓊𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈~
I never knew it could feel so good to be somebody's Star
John b x OC
Cover made by @disney_fanatic36
Season 1- ✅
Season 2- ✅
Season 3- ✅
Season 4- ✅
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When I round the corner, I hear my dad's voice echoing from the security's phone, and the sound of it lands like a fist in my stomach, familiar in a way that makes my skin crawl.
"Was he in the house? He wasn't in the house was he? Let me see his face. Put the camera on his face." He demands.
"Hold his head up." One of the guards orders.
I sprint to the control box and twist the valve, my fingers slick with sweat against the cold metal, my whole body running on pure adrenaline now.
The sprinkler system explodes to life, drenching the yard.
"What the hell?" "Hey!" "Hurry up! Get those sprinklers off!"
I duck behind a column as one of them storms past me, my heart slamming so hard I can feel it in my teeth, the spray of water needling cold against my bare arms.
"Is it off?" "Yeah." "Why'd the sprinklers go off?" "Ah! I don't know. Okay." "All right stay alert."
I grab a bottle of bug spray from the porch and step out, forcing my whole body into something calm it doesn't feel, my pulse loud enough that I'm sure it's audible.
"What is going on?" My voice comes out shakier than I want it to.
"Who are you? Hey— hold it right there." A guard's gun comes up, and every nerve in my body screams at the sight of it.
I hold my hands up.
"Woah. I'm Val. I'm house-sitting for the Camerons." The lie comes easier than I expect, given how hard my heart is pounding.
"You live here?"
"No, I'm house-sitting. I just started a week ago."
"We caught this guy trying to break in." The guard shoves John B forward, and my stomach drops at the sight of him, dripping and roughed up.
"What? Oh— I know him. He cleans boats for the neighbors."
"Which neighbors?"
"Like— the Stanleys. Down the street."
"What's his name?"
I hesitate, my mind scrambling for something, anything.
"Vlad." Then I blast bug spray straight into the guard's face.
John B tackles the second guard, and I spray the rest, the chemical stinging my own eyes as it drifts back at me.
"Stella, come on! Go to the car."
I scramble into the truck bed while he jumps behind the wheel, my limbs moving faster than my thoughts can keep up with.
"Go! Go! Go! Go!"
"I'm going. I'm going." He floors it, gravel spraying.
"Faster!" One of the guards is gaining on us, panic climbing sharp and cold up my spine.
