THREE

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"JJ!" CALLED POPE Heyward throughout the mechanic shop, furrowing his eyebrows when it wasn't JJ who answered—it was his coworker, Finn Vernon.

"He's not here right now." Finn deadpanned, a toothpick between his teeth as he flipped through a magazine with a rather sexual photo on the cover. Finn seemed to be about thirty years old, with long brown hair and doe brown eyes. He reminded Pope of a laid-back surfer dude in the seventies.

"When will he be here?" Pope found himself questioning further.

"How the hell should I know?" Finn spat, looking up at the Heyward boy, "This is JJ we're talking about."

Pope sighed in defeat.

The Heyward had been hoping to have talked the Maybank boy into fixing the Twinkie for a cheaper prince considering Pope's rather persuasive person, but JJ hadn't been at work that morning.

"Now unless you wanna fix up one of these cars, then I suggest you leave." Finn snapped Pope out of his ongoing thoughts of JJ, earning a small gasp from the boy.

"Shit, sorry." Pope cursed, turning and walking rather quickly out of the shop.

It was a miserable walk back, the sense of failure floating over his head like a storm cloud in an old cartoon he'd watch as a child.

Pope Heyward was known as the golden boy, even as a child, — perfect test scores, two loving parents, in the running for a scholarship. But the teen had always found himself longing for more. Pope felt guilty for this, seeing how much his parents had provided for him, yet he felt as if his life weren't enough.

As Pope thought of this, he found himself wandering across the boneyard. The sand kicked up in the air slightly as Pope's feet plunged into it with every step he took.

It was a quite warm day, the only sound on the empty boneyard being the waves crashing in the distant. The salty air seemed to slap his skin, sun beaming down on his clothed back.

With a deep exhale, Pope plopped down on the ground, placing his elbows resting on his knees. He faced the ocean, watching the ocean sparkle under the sun. The place seemed too familiar. He stared at this specific spot, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

And then it hit him — he was sitting in front of the exact spot that woman had taken that photo, one JJ snatched. His lips parted slightly.

"You know, you should stop looking so depressed all the time." One whipped around, seeing JJ Maybank stumbling toward him, clearly a bit tipsy.

"It's ten in the morning, JJ." Pope mentioned l, turning back around with a deep sigh, waiting for JJ to catch up to where he was.

"The sooner, the better." JJ told Pope, plopping down beside him. He wore his usual baseball cap this day, messy blonde locks tucked underneath. He wore a gray muscle t-shirt, along with a pair of shorts and some dirty, white Converse sneakers. His muscles were toned and sweaty that day, his lips more colorful that usual. His eyes squinted slightly under the sun, Pope noticed.

"Hm, yeah." Pope agreed, clearly being sarcastic. His dark eyes met the fluffy clouds hovering above OBX, sighing deeply.

"What are you doing here, Einstein?" JJ wondered out loud, seeming annoyed all of a sudden.

"It's a free country." Pope answered with a shrug of his shoulders. He turned, saying the first thing that popped into his head, "Did you see them taking down those missing posters? You know, for that woman."

Chasing The Stars || JJPOPEWhere stories live. Discover now