𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 ¹- jj maybank

𝟎𝟎𝟗 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬

SEASON 1
EPISODE 2

"Can someone please tell me what the fuck happened in the last 24 hours?"

»»-----　　-----««

          JJ PACED AROUND THE ROOM, his movements restless and charged, like he was replaying the whole scene in his head and couldn't shake the adrenaline. He paused by the brick wall, leaning into it, as if bracing himself for impact. "We're standing right outside, okay?" he began, his voice a blend of frustration and disbelief. He jabbed his thumb toward the wall. "And then, all we hear is just, 'Bam! Bam! Bam!'" He swung his arms forward, reenacting the blasts. His hands moved sharply, practically slapping the air. "Paint flying off the wall, G! From the inside" His gestures became more aggressive, getting lost in the retelling, as if he was back in that moment.

Across the room, Victoria, Pope, and Kiara exchanged glances, brows furrowing in confusion as they tried to keep up.

"Right? And I'm just looking at him, like—Wait, first off, look at this." JJ paused, shaking himself out of the memory, and strode over to the couch, where his friends sat huddled together. He ruffled both hands through his hair, vigorously enough that a small cloud of white flecks started to fall. "Look at *this!*"

Kiara winced, cringing back a little. "That's dandruff, JJ. Disgusting." She shot him a look of disapproval as she recoiled.

"Okay, thank you," Pope said with a grimace, pushing JJ's head away as he tried to lean closer. "Real nice."

JJ looked affronted but pressed on, his hands sweeping over the floor. "No, look at all that," he insisted, pointing at the fine white dust on the ground. "That's paint. From the wall." He jabbed his thumb back over his shoulder toward the porch glass, as if the weight of it all was pressing down on him. "At that point, I'm just, like... waiting for death, you know?"

Pope buried his face in his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair as he gathered himself. "Wait, okay." He looked up at JJ, his voice clipped with urgency. "So you saw the guys that shot at us yesterday, right?"

JJ's face shifted, going grim. "Yeah."

"Did you get a good description of them? Like, what did they look like?" Pope pressed, eyes lighting up with a shred of hope. "Anything?"

Victoria's face contorted in shock as she finally grasped the situation. "Wait, guys that shot at you?" she blurted.

John B, who'd been leaning back with his arms crossed, sighed dismissively. "Long story."

But Pope wasn't about to let it slide. "Anything, JJ. Just one detail we could bring to the police?" His voice had a desperate edge, like he was hanging onto the idea that they could still make sense of it.

JJ scratched the side of his head, then let out a sigh, as if recalling something fuzzy. "Burly."

"Burly?" Pope's eyebrow shot up in disbelief. "Seriously, that's it?"

Kiara rolled her eyes, barely holding back a laugh. "That's not exactly helpful, JJ."

JJ let out a frustrated sigh, beginning to pace around the porch again, a hint of embarrassment mixed into his usual swagger. "Okay, but it's like..." He stopped, gathering his thoughts. "They're the kind of guys you'd see at my dad's garage. You guys know he used to make hidden compartments in cars for smugglers." He paused, leaning against the wall again, his gaze hardening. "So, with full confidence, I can tell you—these guys? These killers?" He reached into his pocket, producing a crumpled joint and lighting it in one smooth motion. "They're square groupers." He took a deep puff, letting the smoke drift out.