034 !! DEMONS
When left alone, thoughts are suffocating. They consume all your energy bit by bit and sting every little corner of your being capable of feeling.
It's hard to shut them out.
But when you're a slave to the hungering essence of bland intoxication harbouring the ability to silence your thoughts just a little and fog up the stained glasses of your sinful mind, the desire to forget holds you hostage despite all your efforts to free yourself from its binds.
Rafe Cameron is a sucker for the white powder he breathes in on a regular basis; one which he pays for with dear old daddy's hard earned corrupted money.
The thick stacks of cash fueling into Outer Banks' resident drug dealer's every little lavish impulse are nothing compared to the feeling of pure and utter euphoria the tainted powder, the devil's surprise gives him.
It's not that deep, really. He may have a slight problem but in his eyes, nobody's perfect — the only thing close to perfection he's ever seen is the gold-dust haired angel who graces the revolting grounds of The Cut.
She's everything he isn't. She's everything he could never be. And yet, it feels like an unbreakable spell has been cast on him because holy shit does she make him feel.
For the longest time, it's just been the Camerons hiding their skeletons from the world.
Sarah — who yearns for motherly love but never could accept Rose as one of their own.
Rose — who lives in a constant fear of something disastrous jeopardizing the life she's built for herself.
Ward — who fails to see what's right in front of him and guides through life feeding into his disturbing greed for more.
Wheezie — the neglected.
And then there's Rafe.
The oldest but by far the most disturbed member of the family. He's not sure when exactly it happened but somewhere down the road to excellence, he strayed off to a path which stained him with uncontrollable vices.
He became a shadow of the ideal expectation. He lost touch with reality.
He welcomed his demons in and prepared a feast for their magnificent indulging.
Rafe, pride & shine of the Cameron family, became a sad montage of hatred and improvidence.
All his efforts to emerge unscathed through the brewing storm of his bad decisions turned out to be futile.
So if he couldn't better himself, he had to prove he was better off this way — that there was nothing wrong with him.
And so began the crusade for daddy's approval, the long held fight to prove that if anyone he despite being a wreck was the best candidate for inheriting the family business.
But then the pressure grew and so did his vices, naturally.
The ultimate result is him, sat back on the couch, head tilted towards the ceiling and a glass full of liquor clutched between his ring clad fingers.
This is the first time in a few days he's had to actively fight off the haunting lure of the sugar.
Usually, he'd be too distracted by the alluring blonde who's carved out a special place in his heart all for herself.
That is not to say that her presence helps completely, of course not.
But she does pose as a distraction from the world and its struggles for the few hours she spends with him.
Today, though, she can't even be bothered to text him back or return any of his calls.
He's worried.
Rafe Cameron is worried and honestly, that's not a pretty look on him.
He's going insane, out of his mind, attempting to wrack his brain for what he did wrong.
Because of course it had to be him, right?
Which makes everything so much more difficult because when they parted early this morning, they were completely fine.
She even kissed him goodbye.
It hurts a little too much since he's scared she's pulling away bit by bit because she's finally come to her senses and realised that the rich boy up over on Figure Eight is anything but good news.
He'd do anything to change her mind — well, anything that didn't require proactively declaring his heart's true desires; what even are they though?
He is simply so lost and so tired and the scotch isn't helping much.
Only a few miles away, a boat is docked near the Camerons' deck.
The HMS Pogue, their treasure.
Sitting under the dim light of the boat is the girl who's captured all of Rafe Cameron's attention — and a fragment of his heart, though we don't talk about that — biting down on her nails, eyeing the several texts and notifications left behind by Kildare's very own golden boy.
"Hey, I see Ward", Kiara declares from the side of the boat averting everyone's eyes towards the mansion stood far out flanked by the grassy expanse surrounding it.
"Let me see", Pope jumps up meandering over to the side.
He squints gazing out ahead before shrugging and backing up.
"Doesn't look dead to me. Let's go home".
"Wait", JJ frowns.
"What?", Kiara turns back to glance at Pope, offended.
"Uh, obviously Mr. Cameron's fine and even if John B was here, he isn't now. Okay? Plus I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours".
Kiara huffs, "Yeah, well our friend's in trouble".
"I'm in trouble", Pope exhales looking around at all of their frowning faces, "Guys, I haven't been home in three days. My dad's probably put all my shit
on the street by now".
"Okay, so that's it? In time of need, you're just gonna bail? You're just gonna walk away?", Kiara steps forward.
Something sparks inside of Georgie and within a millisecond, she's up on her feet.
"Hey, that's not fair", she furrows her brows looking at Kiara.
"I have a scholarship interview in the morning", Pope emphasises.
"Okay, yo. Can we not do this right now?", JJ mumbles from the back of the boat.
"Okay, well what about John B?", Kiara spreads her arms out, glancing at both Georgie and Pope as if they're the most ridiculous people on the planet.
"Why is it always about John B?".
Georgie inhales sharply. There's venom in his voice, and weirdly, she doesn't have the urge to dismiss him.
Because he's right.
Kiara shakes her head, "It's not always about John B. You're so stupid. It would be any of you in this situation".
"Oh, bullshit!".
"Seriously, Kie?", Georgie grimaces.
"This is about friendship", Kiara glares at the duo staring at her, incredulously.
JJ trudges close to the trio.
"Bring it down", he tries to silence them but to no avail.
"What about forensic pathology, huh?", Pope spits out.
Kiara shakes her head, confused.
"Forensic pathology?".
"It's my life. Everything I've worked for".
"That's your priority?".
"Stop the moral high ground bullshit!".
"Pope, come on", JJ intervenes.
"He's right, JJ. What, are we just expected to throw away everything because John B fell in love with a Kook? Well, I'm sorry I have a life that doesn't revolve around him. And so does Pope", Georgie crosses her arms, now becoming the center for Kiara's darkening glare.
"It's not about Sarah!", Kiara yells frustrated.
Pope scoffs making Kiara turn to him.
"Excuse me?".
"Pope . . . .", the blonde haired boy at the back steps forward.
"No. She has no room to talk", Pope breathes out, angry.
"Where were you when Big John went missing? You weren't there. You weren't there for John B. You weren't there for any of us. Remember your Kook year?".
"Dude", JJ warns.
"Yeah, you forgot about us. Now you feel guilty. Give me a break".
"That what you need? You need a break? Move!", Kiara pushes him sending him stumbling back but he regains his balance pushing her back instead.
Georgie groans stepping off to the side, too exhausted to stop her friends from fighting like morons.
JJ, on the other hand, is quick to step in between pulling both Pope and Kiara back by their shoulders and throwing a glare towards all three of them.
"Cut it out, alright? If I'm the one mediating, we've hit rock bottom".
"Bow, now!", he yells at Georgie who only rolls her eyes in response.
"Go!".
Grumbling, she shuffles over to the bow, arms still crossed in annoyance.
"Pope, I'll drop you off".
***
no bc the fact that kiara had the audacity of expecting pope to just abandon his life bc john b's too stupid and dramatic to look after himself will never not be frustrating