𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 ¹- jj maybank

𝟎𝟏𝟕; 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

SEASON 1
EPISODE 3

"Ungrateful whore."

»»-----　　-----««

          "Y'ALL GET THESE GROCERIES over to Figure Eight." Mr. Heyward barked out, thrusting plastic bags toward the kids. JJ and Pope moved quickly, stacking bags in the corner of the boat, their expressions a mix of boredom and exasperation. "And I mean get straight back here when you're done. No fishing, no fooling around. I promised to deliver these by this afternoon. You hear?"

"Yes, sir," JJ saluted.

Victoria watched the two boys, her legs crossed, sipping on a soda she'd brought along. She flashed Mr. Heyward a quick, cheeky smile. "We'll make sure everything's done, Mr. Heyward. No need to worry about us."

Mr. Heyward shot her a wary look, not convinced. "Victoria, I want you to keep those two in line. Rich folks don't want to wait around for you lazy sons of—" He stopped, catching JJ's hand already extended to grab another bag, trying to look helpful. "Oh, JJ, didn't see you there." He muttered under his breath, "—sons of bitches."

Pope rolled his eyes and sighed as he climbed into the driver's seat. "Bye, Pop."

"We won't disappoint you," Victoria added with a chuckle, while Pope fired up the boat's engine, the motor sputtering to life.

Mr. Heyward stepped back, hands on his hips. "Well, I damn hope not," he called as they drifted away from the dock. His voice trailed off in the distance as they left him standing there, watching them disappear into the sparkling water.

Once they were a few minutes out, Victoria leaned back in the wheelhouse, digging through her bag. She pulled out her cigarettes and tapped one free from the pack, lighting it up with the click of her lighter. She inhaled, letting the smoke curl from her lips as she watched Pope and JJ banter up ahead.

Pope steered with one hand, glancing out at the pristine houses dotting the shoreline. "It's like the storm never even hit here," he muttered, eyes on the meticulously manicured lawns and glistening roofs of Figure Eight. The wealth seemed to hover around those houses like a protective shield.

JJ gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "That's 'cause they got backup generators for days, bro. They'll still have AC, lights, everything running while our side is a blackout zone."

"Nice to be a Kook," Pope sighed, the resentment clear in his voice.

"Lucky bastards," JJ added with a smirk, but Victoria noticed a hint of bitterness beneath his words.

Victoria stayed silent, taking a long drag from her cigarette. She knew it wasn't her place to join in—this tension between the Pogues and Kooks ran deeper than she could fully understand. As they drew closer to the shore, she flicked the ash into an empty soda can.

Finally, they docked on the Kook side, the boat gently bumping against the wood as they tied it off. "Alright, so here's the list of delivery addresses," Pope said, passing each of them a note with a few scribbled locations. "Looks like we're in the same area, Vic. Most of these are just a couple streets over."

Victoria nodded, folding the paper and tucking it into her pocket. "Got it. I'll catch up in a second—I've got to handle something real quick."

Pope raised an eyebrow but didn't question her, heading off with JJ. "Alright, JJ, let's get these bags delivered before my Pop loses his mind."

Victoria watched them walk away before pulling her bag back onto her shoulder. Once she was sure they were out of sight, she reached into her bag, fingers brushing past loose change, gum wrappers, and finally finding a small, plastic bag tucked deep at the bottom. She looked around, making sure no one was watching, and then poured a quick line of coke onto the back of her phone.