⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ jj's gone crazy ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

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【 SEASON EPISODE 1 PART 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?"

John B nodded, confirming it with a somber expression.

Pope, ever the voice of reason, sat up straight, his face serious. "Here's the plan. We didn't see anything, and Clara heard nothing." His eyes darted to Clara, trying to keep her out of it as much as possible.

Clara raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at her lips despite the situation. "So?" she teased, clearly not one to be easily pushed aside in moments like this.

JJ, never missing a beat, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a playful embrace. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed, his grin wide and full of energy. Clara chuckled, feeling a brief moment of lightness amidst the chaos.

Pope, unimpressed by their antics, rolled his eyes. "We need to have total and complete amnesia," he stated firmly, trying to bring the conversation back to the seriousness of the situation.

"Actually, Pope's right for once," JJ said, jumping to his feet dramatically. "See, I agree with you sometimes." He paused for effect. "Deny, deny, deny."

"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kiara interrupted, her tone tinged with anxiety. She was always the moral compass of the group, and this was no exception.

Clara's frown deepened. "Why not? Full kook is one of my desires. I wanna know what it's like," she said, half-joking, but there was a real temptation there. The idea of being carefree, living the kook life, was hard to resist.

JJ, quick to back her up, shot back at Kiara, "Exactly. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara." His sarcasm drew a small grin from Clara, but the tension in the air was still thick.

Kiara stood her ground, arms crossed. "We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it's bad karma," she said, her voice resolute. Her eyes flickered with a sense of responsibility.

Clara sighed, knowing Kiara wasn't wrong. The longer they held onto this, the worse it would get. "Okay, Kie isn't wrong about that," she finally admitted, though her reluctance was evident. The pull of the money was hard to shake.

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony too," Pope added with a knowing look, his words sinking into the group.

Clara leaned back against the railing beside John B, letting out a deep breath. "Yeah, we need to go dark," she said, her voice softer now. The seriousness of the situation was catching up to her. "If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree."

JJ, ever the opportunist, stepped over to Clara's side, looking out toward the river with her. "Exactly. Keeping it's gotta be worth it."

John B, however, wasn't convinced. He patted JJ on the shoulder, his tone firm. "I don't agree."

"What? Why?" JJ spun around, clearly confused by John B's hesitation.

John B sighed, his eyes thoughtful as he explained. "Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-a-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. Clara was too kind and gave him some money."

Clara shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks flushing slightly. "He seemed like he needed it. I wasn't being too kind," she muttered defensively, but the guilt was hard to shake. She didn't regret helping the guy, but it was strange how quickly things spiraled.

JJ gave her a playful glance, smirking. "Clare Bear, you're a goodie two-shoes," he teased, nudging her gently with his elbow.

Clara glared at him, her annoyance growing. "Am not!" she snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Are so," JJ retorted, clearly enjoying riling her up.

John B interjected, bringing the conversation back to the point. "We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'."

Clara blinked, trying to wrap her mind around the new information. "He had a Grady-White?" she asked in disbelief, the pieces slowly coming together in her mind.

The group had relocated to the dock, where the calm, open water stretched out before them, a stark contrast to the buzzing thoughts occupying their minds. Pope stood near the edge, focused on his fishing rod, while John B lounged casually on the dock fence alongside Kiara, who stared out into the horizon. The air smelled of saltwater and the fresh breeze tugged at their hair. Clara, seated on the edge with her feet dangling into the cool water, felt the gentle waves lap against her skin. She clutched her journal close to her chest, her mind running wild with the events of the day.

"All right, so think about it, Pope," John B began, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of the water. He leaned back against the fence, casual yet focused, as he glanced over at Pope. "How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"

Clara, momentarily lost in her thoughts, felt the gravity of the question. She was mentally scribbling down all the details in her head, knowing it would all end up in her journal later.

Pope inhaled sharply, gripping his fishing rod a little tighter. Without hesitation, he deadpanned, "Prostitution."

John B rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the answer but didn't dismiss it entirely. "Square groupers, bro," he added, leaning forward a little, his eyes narrowing as he listed off possibilities on his fingers. "Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane."

Clara glanced up from her journal at that, her brow furrowing in thought. Her mind immediately started to whirl with scenarios and possibilities, her journal now a mere prop in her lap.

John B's attention shifted to JJ, who was busy tinkering with his fishing pole. "What does that mean, JJ?"

JJ, always the one with street smarts and a reckless confidence, didn't hesitate. He straightened up, his usual smirk in place. "They were straight smugglin'," he stated, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Smugglin'," John B echoed, nodding in agreement, the pieces starting to come together. "And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

The quiet ripple of the water was interrupted as JJ suddenly got a tug on his line. His eyes lit up, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as he felt the weight on the pole.

"Hell yeah!" JJ exclaimed, standing up straighter and gripping the rod with both hands. "Fish on!"

The excitement broke the tension, and for a moment, their minds drifted away from the heavy implications of their earlier conversation as they watched JJ wrestle with the fish. Clara laughed, the sound light and easy, carried away by the breeze as the group rallied around JJ, their collective worries momentarily forgotten amidst the thrill of the catch.

The small room in the Château felt even more cramped as the group huddled together, each person lost in their thoughts as they debated their next move. The peeling wallpaper and creaky floorboards, familiar to them all, were an odd backdrop to the increasingly dangerous situation they found themselves in. The golden glow of the setting sun bled into the room, casting long shadows over the worn furniture. It was a calm contrast to the tension in the air.

Pope was perched on the edge of John B's bed, his brows furrowed, deep in thought. His hand tapped rhythmically on a bundle of cash that was haphazardly spread out before him. The sight of the money, so much of it, made him uneasy. His practical nature couldn't ignore the implications. Clara lay beside him, stretched out on her back with her head hanging off the bed, letting gravity pull at her hair as she stared at the ceiling. Her arms were outstretched, and despite her relaxed pose, her mind raced, piecing together the reality of what they were all getting into.

"For the record," Pope began, his voice cutting through the quiet, "if that is a smuggling ship, with illegal contraband inside of it... it probably belongs to someone else." His eyes flicked from face to face, hoping his words would make them realize just how dangerous this situation was.

Clara, upside down, blew a strand of hair out of her face. She wasn't naive, but the allure of the mystery-the money, the wreck, the secrets-was too tempting to resist. "Minor details," she said with a smirk, echoing Kiara's earlier sentiment.

Kiara was leaning against the wall, her arms folded tightly across her chest. The weight of it all seemed to sit on her shoulders, and she was far from convinced they were making the right call. "They could come looking for it," she said, her voice low but steady. Her eyes darted to Clara, who was now sitting up, her fingers rubbing at her temples to ease the blood rush from her previous position.

"Yep. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid," Pope emphasized, his hand smacking the bed with the wad of cash for dramatic effect. The sound echoed through the room like a warning shot.

JJ, who had been lounging on the floor with his back propped up against the dresser, was immediately on his feet. In one swift motion, he snatched the money from Pope's hands, waving it in the air as if it were a trophy. His grin was wild, filled with reckless excitement. "Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time," he declared, confidence dripping from his words.

Clara's eyes were drawn to the crisp hundred-dollar bills in JJ's hand. She could practically feel the weight of them, each bill representing a step further into danger. And yet, the mystery surrounding the wreck, the money, and everything it could lead to had a hold on her. Her curiosity burned like a flame, and she knew there was no turning back.

"All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck," Clara said, her voice more serious now, the plan beginning to form in her mind. There was a determination in her tone that hadn't been there before, a recognition that they were on the edge of something big, something dangerous, but undeniably exciting.

John B, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the window, let out a heavy sigh. His gaze flicked to his sister, worry evident in his expression. "I didn't want to drag you into this, Clara. I'm sorry," he said, the words soft, almost regretful.

Clara turned her head, fixing her brother with a steady look. "Why?" she asked, her voice firm, but there was a slight quiver of uncertainty beneath the surface.

John B hesitated, shifting his gaze to the floor before speaking again. "Clara, adventure? Is that really you?" His question hung in the air, almost like he was giving her an out, a chance to walk away before things got worse.

Clara bit her lip, considering the question. The truth was, it wasn't her. She had always been the one to play it safe, to be cautious, but this-this was different. It wasn't just about the money or the danger. It was about needing to know, to understand the mystery they had stumbled upon. After a moment, she shook her head. "No, it's not, JB... but I'm way too curious now. I need to know what's going on."

JJ, who had been watching the interaction between the siblings, couldn't help but smirk. He slung his arm around Clara, pulling her closer in a playful, almost conspiratorial way. "You ready to be full kook?" he teased, his grin widening as he spoke. There was an edge to his voice, a wildness that made it clear he was more than ready to see where this rabbit hole led.

Clara chuckled softly, shaking her head but nodding at the same time. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Pope, ever the skeptic, finally broke his silence again. "How exactly are we gonna do all this?" His voice was tight with tension, the weight of the situation pressing down on him more than anyone else.

Kiara, who had been mostly quiet, offered a suggestion that was both simple and effective. "Kegger?" she said, almost like it was obvious.

Everyone looked around at each other, the ridiculousness of the idea slowly dawning on them. And yet, in that moment, it was the best plan they had. They all nodded in unison, sealing their fate. Whatever was coming next, they were all in it together now. The energy in the room shifted, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. There was no turning back now.

The kegger was in full swing, the bonfire crackling with life as the music pulsed through the humid air. Clara sat apart from the chaos, far from the laughter and drunken shouts that echoed along the beach. She had found a quiet spot beneath a cluster of palm trees, where the sand was still cool from the evening breeze. The light from the fire flickered in the distance, just enough to illuminate her small journal resting on her lap.

Her heart beat with the same rhythm as the ocean, slow but heavy, as she scribbled on the page. In the distance, Sarah Cameron sat on the remnants of a tower that had fallen during the storm, her long blonde hair catching the moonlight. The silhouette of Topper was next to her, though Clara tried her best to ignore him, focusing only on the way Sarah leaned into the breeze, looking so peaceful.

Clara's pen hovered over the paper, then she began writing with a quiet intensity:

Dear Sarah,

There are nights when I think about what it would be like to tell you the truth. To look at you and let it all spill out-the way you light up when you smile, how I feel like I can breathe easier when you're near, the way your laugh sounds like music I never want to forget. I'm terrified and yet, all I can think about is how much I want you to know.

I wonder if you'll ever see me, really see me, not just as tme-the girl who stands on the sidelines of your life-but as someone who cares so deeply for you that it hurts. I love you, Sarah. Fully, completely, and I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to say it out loud, so for now, I'll say it here.

Maybe one day you'll read this, maybe one day I'll find the courage to hand it to you. Until then, I'll keep these feelings in this journal and dream of what it would be like for you to know.

Yours always,

CLR

Clara's fingers shook slightly as she signed her initials at the bottom of the letter. She hadn't told anyone how she felt about Sarah-not even her brother John B, or Kiara, her closest friends. But every letter she wrote, every quiet moment she stole to look at Sarah from afar, deepened her love, even though it was a love she feared might never be returned.

She tore the page from her journal, folding it carefully. As she did, the sound of footsteps crunching on the sand made her pause. Clara's eyes darted up to see Topper approaching, his eyes narrowing as he walked over to Sarah, who was still seated on the fallen tower.

"Hey, babe," Topper said, his voice a little slurred from the drinks, as he sat down beside Sarah and wrapped his arm possessively around her shoulders.

Clara frowned slightly, clutching the folded letter in her hand. The sight of him pulling Sarah close always sparked something bitter in her chest, but she quickly swallowed it down. Sarah deserved to be happy, and if she was happy with Topper... Clara would just have to live with it.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't get this letter to her. She watched as Topper became distracted by his friends, laughing loudly at something one of them said. Clara seized the moment, her heart racing as she stood and quietly approached Sarah, keeping a distance, making sure Topper didn't notice. She slipped the letter beneath a small pile of seashells near Sarah's feet, hoping Sarah would find it when Topper wasn't looking.

With the letter delivered, Clara quickly backed away, blending into the shadows of the trees, watching from afar.

A few minutes later, Sarah's eyes drifted down to the pile of seashells. She spotted the folded note, curiosity flickering across her face. She picked it up and unfolded it, her eyes scanning the neat handwriting. Clara's heart pounded as she watched Sarah begin to read it out loud.

"Dear Sarah... There are nights when I think about what it would be like to tell you the truth..." Sarah's voice was soft, almost disbelieving, as she read the rest of the letter. Her lips formed a quiet smile as she reached the end, her eyes lingering on the initials CLR.

Before she could say anything, Topper glanced over, noticing the letter in her hands. "What's that?" he asked, frowning as he leaned in closer. "Who the hell is CLR?" he demanded, his voice hardening with suspicion.

Sarah smiled softly, folding the letter carefully. "I think it's cute," she said, her tone light, brushing off his irritation.

But Topper wasn't amused. "Cute? No, I wanna know who the hell this person is! You're my girl, Sarah. Whoever this is-they need to back off."

Clara, watching from the shadows, blushed deeply. She had never expected Sarah to read it out loud, let alone in front of Topper. As much as she was flattered by Sarah's reaction, she could feel the weight of Topper's possessive fury simmering just beneath the surface.

Sighing, Clara turned to leave before things could escalate, but as she did, she ran straight into Kiara, who had been standing behind her the whole time, arms crossed, watching the entire scene unfold.

"You see this?" Kiara whispered, glancing over at Sarah and Topper. "I can't believe she's here." Her voice was dripping with disdain.

Clara, still a little shaken from the whole ordeal, quickly composed herself and played along, giving Kiara a conspiratorial smirk. "Yeah... I can't believe it either."

Kiara rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Topper's theatrics. "Ugh, whatever. I'm grabbing another drink. You coming?"

Clara nodded absently, her mind still on Sarah and the letter. As she followed Kiara back to the fire, she couldn't help but steal one last glance at Sarah, who was tucking the letter into her pocket with a soft smile.

Maybe Sarah didn't know who CLR was. But Clara's heart swelled at the thought that, for a moment, Sarah had read her words. Even if they weren't said out loud, her feelings were out there in the world, and that was enough for now.

Clara stood in the dimly lit kitchen of the chateau, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the stillness. She had ditched the kegger early, needing a break from the chaos. The whole Sarah and Topper thing had been swirling in her mind, leaving her restless and uneasy. She'd decided to come home, retreating to the kitchen to make something simple-a sandwich, maybe, or mac and cheese, anything to keep her hands busy and her mind from wandering too far.

She was stirring a pot on the stove when the front door burst open with a loud crash, startling her. Her heart leaped into her throat as she whipped around. In an instant, JJ, Pope, and Kiara stormed inside, their faces frantic and panicked. Between them, they were dragging John B, who was limp and unconscious, his face bruised and wet, like he'd just been pulled from the ocean.

"Jesus Christ-what the hell happened?" Clara gasped, rushing toward them as they laid John B on the couch. Her eyes widened, panic gripping her chest as she took in her adoptive brother's battered state. "Is he okay? What happened?"

Kiara, her face flushed with anger, was the first to speak. "Sarah," she spat out, her tone sharp and full of frustration.

Clara froze, blinking in confusion. "Sarah did this? She beat him up?" Her voice was a mixture of disbelief and shock. She couldn't imagine Sarah, of all people, laying a hand on John B.

"No!" JJ shouted, pacing back and forth, clearly worked up. "It wasn't Sarah. It was Topper-he got pissed off when I offered Sarah a drink, and the whole thing just exploded from there."

"Topper tried to drown him," Kiara added bitterly, her arms crossed over her chest, anger burning in her eyes. "And Sarah just stood there, doing nothing! She just yelled at Topper to stop, but she didn't lift a damn finger to help."

Clara's head was spinning, trying to piece everything together. "He tried to drown John B?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, horrified by the thought.

"Yeah," Pope confirmed, his voice tight with tension. "Then JJ jumped in and-" He paused, casting a wary glance at JJ. "-and pulled a gun on Topper."

JJ stopped pacing, turning sharply toward Pope, his face flushed with frustration. "What the hell was I supposed to do, Pope? Stand there and let Topper kill him?"

"That's not what I'm saying!" Pope shot back, his voice rising in agitation. "But pulling a gun on him? Really, JJ?"

"What choice did I have?" JJ snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Topper was losing it, Pope! He wasn't going to stop!"

As JJ and Pope argued, their voices escalating, Clara stood there, frozen, trying to process the whirlwind of information that had just been thrown at her. Topper had tried to drown John B, Sarah had stood there and done nothing, and JJ had pulled a gun on Topper to save him. It all felt surreal, like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

"Guys, stop," Clara finally said, her voice trembling as she tried to keep herself calm. "Please, just stop." She glanced down at John B, still unconscious on the couch, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. "Is he going to be okay? Has anyone called a doctor?"

Kiara shook her head, rubbing her temples in frustration. "He's breathing, Clara. We just... we didn't know what else to do. We had to get him out of there."

Clara bit her lip, running her hands through her hair as she tried to make sense of it all. She could feel her anger bubbling beneath the surface, not just at Topper but at Sarah, too. How could she just stand there and watch all of this happen? How could she not help John B?

"Sarah just... let this happen?" Clara whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

"Yep," Kiara muttered bitterly, glaring at the floor. "Just stood there. I don't know what the hell she was thinking."

Clara's heart twisted. The Sarah she knew-the Sarah she loved-would never just stand by and let something like this happen. But the reality in front of her said otherwise. It left her feeling raw, confused, and hurt all at once.

JJ's voice cut through the tension again. "Look, I did what I had to do, okay? If I hadn't stepped in, John B wouldn't be here right now. End of story."

Pope shook his head, clearly frustrated, but he didn't argue further. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating, and Clara didn't know how much longer she could stand it.

She let out a deep breath, her eyes fixed on John B's battered form. "We'll figure this out," she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else. "But right now, we need to make sure he's okay."

JJ nodded, finally calming down. "He'll be fine. He's tough."

Clara didn't answer, but she hoped JJ was right. As she sat beside her unconscious brother, her mind kept drifting back to Sarah. To the girl who had stood there, doing nothing, while the boy she loved was nearly killed.

And Clara didn't know how to feel about that.

ASH SPEAKS!

what if i said that sarah and clara already know each other and used to be bsfs...? HEHEHE BACKSTORY SOON!!

i didnt realize how much i was gonna have to split up these episodes😭i think like every episode is gonna be in 3 parts cause theres so much to go over.

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)