𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 || 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

THE POGUES were huddled inside the dimly lit, slightly musty living room of the Chateau. The moonlight seeped through the wooden slats, casting long, uneven shadows on the walls. Dust particles floated lazily in the air, undisturbed by the stillness of the night.

Kie was perched on the arm of the old, sagging couch, her arms crossed and an impatient look on her face. "What do you think it is?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and weariness.

John B leaned against the coffee table, the bag sitting between them like a treasure chest waiting to be unlocked. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully before answering, "Gotta be money, right?"

JJ, sprawled on the couch like he owned the place, grinned mischievously. "That or a couple of keys with street value to the low-to-mid-mils!" he quipped, winking at Avery, who stood leaning against the doorframe, inspecting her nails like she couldn't care less about the situation.

Pope was pacing the room, the anxiety etched on his face a stark contrast to JJ's casual demeanor. "Can we please just open the bag?" he said, his tone sharper than usual. His eyes darted between his friends, impatience bubbling to the surface.

John B raised an eyebrow at him. "Wow, Pope."

JJ sat up straighter, feigning shock. "Whoa, rare outburst of emotion there, bud," he said, smirking. "We should mark this down. Pope has officially lost his chill."

Pope threw his hands up. "Okay, you guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Open the bag already!" He paused and pointed to the bag like it might detonate if left untouched. "Seriously, open it. I'm dying here."

"Jeez," JJ said, dragging out the word with exaggerated annoyance. "No need to blow a gasket, man. It's just a bag."

Pope jabbed a finger in JJ's direction. "We almost died over this. We deserve to know what's in it."

John B didn't need to be told twice. He reached for the bag, the room falling into a tense silence as everyone leaned forward. The sound of the zipper being pulled open seemed impossibly loud, echoing in the quiet room. The moment the bag flopped open and the contents spilled out, the metallic clang of a canister hitting the table made everyone flinch.

Pope stared at it in stunned silence for a beat. Then, letting out a sigh that was equal parts disbelief and frustration, he muttered, "Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right."

Avery tilted her head, her perfectly arched eyebrow lifting as she stepped closer to the table. "Good job, everybody," she said in a dry, sarcastic tone, her voice dripping with disdain. "We risked life and limb and-oh, what's this? We found a compass. Bravo. Truly groundbreaking."

JJ picked up the compass, flipping it over as if a secret stash of gold might pop out. "Dude, what? This isn't worth anything," he said, his earlier excitement vanishing in an instant. "I thought this was gonna be something cool. Like... I don't know, at least a severed finger or something."

Kie shot him a glare. "A severed finger? Seriously?"

"What? Fingers are worth money!" JJ shot back defensively. "I saw it on CSI. People buy weird stuff."

John B's hand hovered over the compass, his expression shifting from disappointment to something softer. "This... this was my father's," he said, his voice quiet.

The room stilled, everyone exchanging uneasy glances. JJ scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of what to say. Even Avery's biting commentary paused for a moment as she studied John B.

authors note