"'Cause
Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out
I know what you're doin', trying to get me to pursue you
Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out
Spill my guts out, spill my guts out"
[SEASON ONE-FOUR]
sarah cameron x fem!oc
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【 SEASON EPISODE 1PART 2 】
Clara stepped onto the worn wooden porch of the Château, her sneakers scuffing the planks as she approached the group. The humid air clung to her skin, and the atmosphere seemed heavier than usual, like a brewing storm. The moment her presence was noticed, all eyes snapped to her, and the quiet tension hung thick.
"Um, what's going on?" Clara asked, leaning casually against the door frame, trying to make sense of the serious expressions on her friends' faces. The mood felt off, too intense for a regular day.
Kiara, never one for subtlety, broke the news bluntly, "John B and JJ found money in this abandoned motel room." Her words were hurried, as if she had been holding it in for too long.
John B shot Kiara a sharp look, his frustration bubbling up. "Kie!" he exclaimed, a mix of anger and exasperation in his tone. This was supposed to be a secret, and now it was out in the open.
Clara's eyes widened, the weight of the revelation hitting her like a cold splash of water. Money? From a motel room? "We aren't roping her into this shit!" Pope suddenly blurted out, his voice laced with concern. He was always the cautious one, and this situation was clearly out of his comfort zone.
The group erupted into a chaotic swirl of arguments. John B, Kiara, Pope, and JJ started talking over each other, their voices rising as they debated what to do next, each with their own ideas of how to handle the situation. The tension was palpable, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.
"Guys!" Clara shouted, cutting through the noise with a sharp edge to her voice. She hated when they spiraled into arguments like this. The porch fell silent again, their attention snapping back to her. "So, you found some money? So what?" Clara shrugged, trying to downplay it, though she was dying to know more. Her nonchalant attitude masked the growing curiosity swirling inside her.
John B sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as if deciding how much more to reveal. "This guy, Scooter, died," he finally said, his voice low, almost reluctant. The weight of the statement landed heavily on Clara, her breath catching for a second.
Clara's gasp was involuntary, a mix of shock and disbelief. Death and money? The stakes were suddenly much higher than she'd thought. Before she could even process what that meant, JJ and John B exchanged a look. JJ, always the wildcard, grinned mischievously as he reached into his pocket.
From within, he pulled out a gun and a fistful of cash, the sight of both making Clara's stomach flip. "Jay! Oh my god!?" Clara's voice was sharp, her disbelief evident. Her eyes darted between the gun and the money. "You found all this from one single motel room?"
