~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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I was sitting on the edge of the boat with Cleo when she suddenly stood up.
"Look," she said.
I followed her gaze. Dark clouds were rolling in fast, the sky bruised and heavy, the kind of color that made my stomach drop before I even had a reason to be afraid. Whatever was coming didn't look good at all.
Cleo and I rushed inside, moving quickly. "Stuff's gonna fly all over the place if we don't lock it up. Tie down anything that can move," Cleo said.
I nodded, grabbing ropes and baskets, trying to work as fast as I could, my hands already unsteady with adrenaline. When I looked up, JJ was still sitting there, staring off, doing nothing, the bottle loose in his hand and his eyes glassy in a way that scared me more than the storm did.
"Can you please do something JJ? Please," I said softly but urgently.
I handed him a basket. Instead, he lifted the bottle again.
My chest tightened.
"Give me that. Just— please," I said, taking the beer from his hand and shoving the basket toward him, my patience thin and my fear thinner.
I looked at Cleo, panic creeping in. "I don't know what to do."
She turned toward him, sharp and firm. "Hey rude boy. Group activity."
That finally snapped something in him. He started helping, slow, but helping, and I let myself breathe a little easier watching him move, even if the relief was fragile.
"Hurry!" Kie yelled as we ran into one of the rooms, the wind screaming outside loud enough to swallow every other sound.
"This storm is crazy man," Cleo groaned.
"Did you see the size of those swells?" Pope asks as I slammed the door shut.
"Come here, grab onto something," Pope yelled.
"Hold onto something!" Kie shouted.
We all clutched whatever we could, the whole boat pitching violently beneath us.
Then I heard it. "Hey! Hey! Get me out of here!"
Rafe. My heart dropped.
"No! No!" Cleo said quickly when she saw my face.
"Do not let him out!" Pope yelled.
"He's gonna drown. I have to," I said, already shaking my head, some fierce, stubborn instinct rising up in me that I couldn't quite argue against, no matter what he'd done.
Pope grabbed my arm. "Stella—" he started.
"I have to," I repeated.
I stumbled around, grabbed a knife, and started down the steps, the boat lurching hard enough to slam me against the wall twice.
