chapter twenty-seven
izzy's world . . . ?

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            JJ Maybank had always known who he was. His father had made a point to remind him every chance he got. He was his mother's son as his father called him, but to everyone else, he was his father's runt and only his. But to Luke Maybank, his son was waiting for an opening to leave him behind, forced to care for himself just like how his wife had left him years ago. JJ was just like her. Filled with a dream to get off that cursed island, but unlike his mother, JJ knew deep down that he would never leave the Outer Banks. He would never leave the Cut. It was in his blood to stay there, letting the world pin crime after crime against him. That was who JJ Maybank really was: his father's son. It was only a matter of time before he lived up to his name.

          You see, he tried to hold on to the belief that he could be different. He tried to listen to Izzy's words and recognize that he was his own person, not his father's prodigal son, but he couldn't escape his own flesh and blood. After all, blood ran thicker than water, and deep down, all the boy ever wanted to do was make his father proud. He quickly realized that was never going to happen, especially after he followed through with this plan of his and stole his father's most prized possession: his boat.

          (Funny how a stupid boat meant more to the man than his own son's well-being, but that was another issue that JJ Maybank did not want nor have the time to delve into at the moment. (Check back in two through three business days and maybe he'll be open to talking about it then.))

          But anyway . . . no matter how many times Izzy Windsor grabbed him by the face, looked him in the eyes, and told him he could break the cycle, that he could make a future for himself that didn't end with him staring at the bottom of an empty beer bottle . . . he couldn't fully believe her. He wanted hope. He wanted the belief that he wouldn't end up exactly like his father, but as he aged, he realized that might never happen. Because, really, in the debate of nature versus nurture, JJ Maybank was screwed either way.

          Still . . . he had tried. God, had he tried. But it was so fucking hard to hope for the best when he had only been given the short end of the stick his entire life. Nevertheless, he tried to cling onto that hope which he found that summer . . . but as the ride slowly came to a halt and the car pulled up right in front of his house—the Maybank residence—he discovered his hope was quickly diminishing by the seconds.

          Something dropped in the pit of his stomach and for a second he thought it might be yearning, but he quickly wrote it off as dread. Although . . . that wasn't entirely true. Because no matter how many times his father's right hand collided with his cheek, leaving behind a plumb-colored bruise, JJ Maybank would always want to make his father proud. He would always want to protect him. He would always care for him. He would always go back no matter how much it hurt to see the look of disgust and hatred in his father's eyes when he looked at him. And that was all because of one simple fact: Luke Maybank was still his father and he would always love him.

          It was a tricky thing: loving the same person who brought him so much pain. But there wasn't anything he could do about it. He just wanted his father to care. He wanted to make him proud. He, of course, would never tell a soul that, but he couldn't hide the truth from himself. He couldn't lie to himself. He was just a boy, searching for an affirmation from his father that he was on the right path. Nothing could change that.

          JJ shook his head of his thoughts and blinked once, careful not to let any tears slip down his cheeks as he turned to face his house. He squinted his eyes at the place he used to call his home. It felt more like a prison now. "Home sweet home," he mumbled, but it came out like a scoff.

          Kiara glanced over her shoulder and stared at the boy with slight worry stretched across her face. "Do you want us to come?" she questioned, her voice soft. "'Cause we'll come."

          Fuck, JJ thought. He knew he should let them. He could tell by the look on Kiara's face that she wanted to come, that she didn't want him to be alone, but he couldn't let them witness this. He didn't know what his father would do. He couldn't risk them getting hurt for him. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Izzy either. He couldn't look her in the eyes. He couldn't look at her and lie to her face, saying it'd be alright. He just couldn't.

          So, instead of looking the girl in the eyes, his gaze stayed trained on Kiara Carrera as he took a deep breath in. "No," he said with an exhale. "This will only take a second."

          And truly it would. It would feel like a second to them, but forever for him. But this was his Hell. These were his demons he had to face, not theirs. He couldn't put them through that too. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. And as those thoughts circled around in his brain, he blinked once before he gathered enough courage to glance in Izzy Windsor's direction. He looked at her and he felt helpless again. She always had a way of making him feel like he had no idea what to do, and while that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he genuinely had no idea what to do. Because on one hand, he wanted to let her be there for him. The look in her green eyes was enough to almost convince him to let her come with him, to let her see into this part of his life. But . . . he was scared.

          There were times that JJ Maybank thought that maybe he was just a scared kid from the wrong side of the tracks. And he hated that. He hated being seen as weak. He hated when someone would look at him as if he were some kind of kicked puppy. Because he fucking wasn't. He had been taking care of himself since he was a kid, and he would be damned if people ever even thought about looking at him like he was a helpless toddler. Because (and let him reiterate) he wasn't.

          And while he was trying to let people in, while he was trying to let people care about him that proved to be harder than he thought. Because here was this girl and she wasn't just any girl anymore . . . she was practically his best friend. He would admit that he let himself become overwhelmed by the idea of her in the past even before they had started dating, but then he got to know her, and he really did like her.

          While that crashed and burned and ended with him completely wrecked, they had found each other again and he realized 'hey, I actually really like this chick' and it was like none of that turmoil even mattered. And now, now they were dating and he still felt a little helpless because everything in him wanted to let her in, but something stopped him. That . . that was the problem. But maybe . . . he was the real problem behind it all. Maybe he was constantly getting in the way of himself, ruining everything in his path. His father would surely agree, and more than all the island would as well.

          JJ Maybank was just a fuckup, destined to end up in a cell with his name engraved on it. Everyone knew that. And he was scared that if he let Izzy see this part of his life, she'd start to think the same. Then, he'd really be fucked. Because, like, this was probably the only person who still believed in him and he couldn't ruin that by letting her come with him. She'd see the part of his father that he hated; the part of his father that he oftentimes found within himself; the part of his father that he feared would consume him, ultimately turning him into the man he had no desire to become: his father.

          So, instead, JJ just stared at Izzy and Izzy stared right back at him, confusion swirling in those green eyes of hers. He stared at her a little longer, taking his time to note the confused little wrinkle in between her brows and the way her lips turned down slightly when she was perplexed. Then . . . he sent her a tight-lipped smile and opened the backseat door before he hopped out of the car without another word.

          JJ tightened the straps of his backpack on his shoulders, clutching onto the straps a little too tightly as he thought. He needed to do this alone. He had to, right? It'd be too much for them. They couldn't handle seeing this part of his life. It was too dark, too cruel, too morbid. He nodded at his thoughts as he began walking toward his front door. He needed to do this. This was his home, his demons, his life, not theirs. This was his. It would always be his. No one else could help him through this. He just needed a small push of courage and then he could step into his house and face his father. So, he raised his head, glaring at the front door, and then he—

          "J!" a soft, silky voice called out to him before he could reach the front doorsteps.

          JJ glanced over his shoulder to see Izzy Windsor walking toward him with a small frown on her face. His brows knitted together as he stared at the girl in confusion. Why was she following him? "Iz . . . " he trailed off, completely and entirely perplexed " . . . what are you doing?"

          She looked flustered. Her blonde hair was now in a ponytail at the nape of her neck with a few shorter strands escaping the elastic's hold and framing her face. She was wearing some of Kiara's old clothes and the spandex shorts made her legs look . . . well . . . JJ refused to say since he claimed he was a gentleman (he totally fucking wasn't (he thought she looked hot as fuck, but it wasn't the time)). But nevermind that . . . she looked pretty. She always did. But it was a different kind of pretty . . . the type that you only see in the movies. But that wasn't what he caught sight of. What grasped his attention was the way she was looking at him. Hell . . . if he wasn't mistaken he could've sworn she was nearly crying as she walked over to him and stood before him, tilting her head slightly to stare up at him.

          The girl blinked and looked away as if she was trying to hide the fact that she was about to cry. But nevertheless, she gathered herself (as she always did) and glanced up at him again, this time with more confidence. Then, she spoke. "All day I've been thinking about how life can change in a split second, how any of us could die. And I hate that because . . . well . . . I hate death and—"

          But JJ cut her off. "I got that, Iz," he muttered. He was being an asshole and he knew it. "Most people are."

          Izzy put a hand on his chest. "You didn't let me finish," she began, her voice soft. "I hate death and I hate losing people. It's all I've known, and I hate it so fucking much."

          And while JJ knew her words were true, he really didn't know what she was trying to get at. They were pressed for time, and sure, he liked when she talked to him about anything on her mind, but right now was not the time. Especially when he had to get the boat to the dock at three to save his best friend from getting thrown in the slammer. Fuck, now he was thinking about the slammer. He was sure he'd end up there in the future. He knew he would. It was almost some type of prophecy. But a part of him thought that if he managed to help John B escape jail time, then maybe . . . maybe there'd be hope for him too. . . . Right?

          However, his mouth spoke before his brain could process anything. "Where's this coming from?" he asked the blonde girl.

          Izzy only stared at him. She did that a lot when she was frustrated or confused or really just thinking. But she always managed to make herself speak, and a few seconds later, as her mouth fell slightly agape, that notion proved to be true.

          "It was hard losing you . . . " she trailed off, her words getting stuck in her throat. Her face slightly reddened as she clenched her jaw and pursed her lips while she swallowed her words. Then, she inhaled sharply and nodded as if to tell herself it was okay to continue. "It was hard losing you," she began again, "and it was hard seeing you again, because seeing you again after we stopped talking was like a reminder that I could've had it all with you if I would've just chosen you." She pressed her lips together as she shook her head. She was crying now. "But I got scared and I pushed you away . . . but the truth is and always has been that I want all the same things you want . . . and I want them with you."

          JJ blinked. She had told him this many times before and every time he would subconsciously call her bluff because in JJ Maybank's mind who would willing want to stick with him? He was destined for disaster. Izzy knew she'd be ruined if she followed him down this road of self sabotage and crime.

          But . . . he tried to listen to her words. He tried to repeat the words, I want all the same things you want and I want them with you, over and over again in his head, but he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to completely believe her. And that wasn't her fault in the slightest, it was his . . . and his father could attest to that. Because truly, his father had spent his whole life telling the boy just how worthless he was, and so JJ just couldn't imagine that someone would actually want to . . . put up with him.

          But . . . JJ would be damned if he let Izzy know that. Because, well . . . well he . . . he cared for her . . . a lot, and there she was standing in front of him with tears staining her cheeks and he couldn't just tell her that he didn't feel like he would ever be enough for anyone. So instead, he gave her a small tight-lipped smile and said, "I know that, Iz." His voice was soft as he spoke, and then he stepped forward and rested his hands on either side of her face. He rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping the salty tears from her face. "It's okay. Don't cry over me."

          Izzy clasped her hands around his wrists, ceasing his actions as she shook her head. "No, no, you don't understand," she argued, her voice wavering slightly as she spoke. "I'm selfish. I always talk about myself. It's always about me,  and you're always there. You're always showing how you chose me, how the future you want is with me. And I wanna' be there for you too, because I . . . well I . . . "

          Her words fell short, and JJ was left hanging, wondering what she was trying to say. Sometimes if not almost all the time JJ wished he could know what she was thinking. But he never did know. Izzy was always just in her own world. He was sure Hell would freeze over before Izzy Windsor ever let anyone peel back her skull to take a peek at what was going on inside her brain. But until then, Izzy would stay composed of just brain matter, left untouched and concealed behind her hard exterior. Although . . . her plastic exterior had softened now, melting into flesh . . . so maybe . . . if JJ Maybank were lucky enough, the girl would finally tell him all the thoughts raging on inside her brain (at least . . . one day). But for now, he would have to settle with just the words which spilled from her lips.

          So . . . he did listen. He listened to her words and he waited for her to continue, without pressuring or anything of that sort. He just waited. A part of him thought that maybe he would always wait for Izzy Windsor. They had been through too much together to just give up on each other. And he would never give up on her. He could only hope she thought the same.

          And as time ticked by and their minutes got away from them, JJ reached forward to tuck a loose strand of white-blonde hair behind Izzy's ear. A small, almost sad smile found its way onto Izzy's face as he did so, and then she was inhaling sharply and looking at him like she had never looked at him before. And before he knew it, the girl gathered herself to speak again.

          "I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone," Izzy whispered, almost as if she were scared of her own words. "I just feel . . . I feel like we fixed each other . . . in a way. I, like, care about you. Truly. Honestly. I . . . care . . . so much. There aren't enough words to explain what I'm trying to say, but I just—" she waved her hands around, trying to express herself— "I care about you. I would choose you. Again and again. It will always be you." She stared at him for a second, seemingly taking in his shocked expression. He had never seen her so . . . so . . . concerned? Worried? So much like . . . herself . . . or rather the person she had become? "So, you see . . . letting you go inside alone would mean I was doing a pretty shit job about that, wouldn't it?"

          It will always be you, her words repeated in his head like a mantra. And for a second he didn't believe her, but then he looked at her and it was as if he was seeing the truth for the first time in all his sixteen years.

          It will always be you. It had never been him for anyone else really. He was always being kicked to the side, written off as a loose cannon, collateral damage, baggage, just a waste of space. He was the addict's kid, not the underdog. He was nothing in the eyes of the world. That he was used to. He was used to being told he was worthless, that he was south side trash. That was how everyone saw him. It had always been that way, and he had begun to accept it now. Hell, he had begun to embrace it, because if the island of the Outer Banks wanted to look at him and label him as a lost cause, destined to end up behind bars from embezzlement or robbery or substance abuse or whatever, then there was no point in fighting the inevitable.

          So, fuck everything, JJ would never be the one; he would always be shit. That was JJ Maybank's world after all . . . complete shit.

         But then there was Izzy Windsor . . .

          With Izzy, everything was confusing. Because on one hand, he had the entire world telling him he was a fuckup, and then there was moody, gloomy (and sometimes just straight up bitchy) Izzy Windsor who was telling him the opposite. So, really he had no idea what to believe. Except, well, he believed in Izzy. He had watched her singlehandedly mend herself back together again, and turn away everything she had ever known just so she could finally live. She told him she thought they fixed each other, but JJ was so completely beyond broken, and then there was Izzy who had fixed herself. Maybe she didn't want to believe that she had done it all on her own, but she had. That had always been clear to him. Izzy Windsor was her own savior, not him.
         
          But then . . . what did that make him?

          Was he really as worthless as his father told him he was? Was he really too far gone? Was he really nothing? JJ didn't know. He didn't know anything. He never did. He always felt like he was picking at straws.

          Nobody had ever believed in him enough to convince the boy that he was worthy of more than . . . well . . . nothing. And he wanted to hope that he could be something more. He wanted that. It was all he wanted really—to believe he could get out and make something of himself. He had tried to tell himself he wasn't like his father, and maybe he was composed of parts of his mother as well, but then he realized he was about to steal from his own flesh and blood and it dawned on him that he wasn't different. It would take a lot of strength to break the chain and become someone different, someone better. But . . . JJ Maybank had always been a little too weak.

          After what seemed like an eternity later, Izzy touched a gentle hand to his cheek, breaking him out of his head. "I'm not letting you face him alone," she said, calmly. "It's you and me, J. I'm not losing you again."

          JJ listened to her words, carefully . . . then blinked and found her eyes. All he saw was green, and then he realized his favorite color was green. It always had been. But in those green eyes, he saw something else; he saw hope. Hope that he wanted so desperately to conquer. It made him feel stronger like he really could do anything. He guessed that was what hope really was: the ability to be strong enough to put your faith in the future without worry. He supposed weak people didn't hope.

          And her hope . . . Izzy's hope made him feel stronger. It made him believe in himself even if it were just for a few seconds. It made him believe in stupid stuff too, like, wishing on a shooting star or hoping for a future where he wasn't some sort of monster, where he wasn't some sort of villain in his own story. It made him believe in a future of his own again. Hell, it made him even hope for it. And for a second, he wondered if maybe even just a smidge of hope made the weakest of people stronger. Maybe . . . maybe that was it.

          So JJ just kept staring at Izzy, refusing to say a word as he searched her eyes and embraced the hopeful look she gave him. Izzy gave him hope. She always had. So, when she looked at him and her eyes seemed to whisper, 'it will always be you', he believed those words for the first time in his life. Because how could eyes like that ever lie to him? He may not have been much of anything to everyone else, but to Izzy, it seemed like he meant . . . something, and that was enough to bring a small smile to his face.

          And for a second, as he let the smile consume his face, he wondered why Izzy of all people gave him hope. He wondered why it had always been her. He wondered why her words always seemed to stick with him, follow him even. He wondered why hope and all that bullshit had never meant anything to him until he got to hold her, kiss her, breathe her . . . until he got to know her soul. For the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. And Jesus Christ did he not have the time to figure it out at the moment anyway.

          So, instead, JJ being well . . . JJ decided it was a good time to wrap an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, pulling her into him so her body was pressed up against him. He briefly closed his eyes and kissed her hair, breathing her in as he mumbled, "Okay, okay, we go together then."

          The two teens stepped away from each other, briefly making eye contact before they glanced over their shoulders to find Kiara solemnly watching them. Her eyes were round and sad with her brows raised in concern as she observed the two. But JJ only nodded her way and sent her a reassuring smile, which she returned before the scene changed. JJ then watched as the scene around him morphed into a different one as he glanced at Izzy once more, took her hand, and began to lead her up the doorsteps. Once he was standing before the screen door, he outstretched his hand but didn't dare touch the doorknob. He was too scared, too weak. But then, he felt Izzy squeeze his hand, and he felt strong enough to place his hand on the doorknob and twist the door open. A second later, he opened the screen door, then stepped inside with Izzy following closely and silently behind him.

          As soon as he stepped inside, he was met with embarrassment gnawing at his flesh. Here was Izzy Windsor standing beside him who was used to high ceilings and diamonds chandeliers up until a few days ago, and he knew she would never judge him, but deep down he couldn't help but think how pathetic he must have looked to the girl. And while she was used to riches, JJ was used to rags, and he became increasingly aware of that notion as he looked around his unkempt house.

          Where Izzy was used to diamond chandeliers, there were flush-mounted ceiling lights as replacements. The floors weren't made of marble either. JJ swallowed hard as he looked down at the laminate tiles. He caught sight of the dirt stains which had been tracked through the house. Not to mention the heaps of dirty dishes crowding the sink and kitchen counter, as well as just a bunch of random shit being thrown and discarded all around the house. It made it hard to even get around.

          "Dad?" the boy called out.

          No one answered in return, and all JJ could do was sigh.

          JJ hated this place he had been forced to call home. It served as a reminder that he was nothing. He wondered if he'd ever feel worth anything more than south side trash. He couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel when he got like this . . . correction . . . when he got too in his own head. But then, a hand was placed on his arm, bringing him out of his own head and it was like he could breathe again.

          The Maybank boy blinked and glanced over his shoulder to find Izzy Windsor staring at him, her eyes wide and filled with concern as she squeezed his arm in an attempt to comfort him. He almost couldn't believe it. Because here was a girl who had only known synthetic air and runway shows, and there she was staring only at him instead of judging the place he called home. She didn't scrunch her nose in disgust or scoff when she stepped past the threshold of the door, instead, she was only looking at him. It seemed she only had eyes for him, and perhaps if JJ Maybank were a little more trusting, then he'd realize she had only ever had eyes for him. It had always been him, no matter the circumstances. That was clear enough on her face.

          It will always be you, JJ heard her voice whisper to him in his head again. And as he stared at her, watching as she studied his face, her brows pinched together in concentration, he believed her words. He only wished he believed in himself as much as Izzy seemed to. Life would be easier if he did, but that was easier said than done . . . after all, he couldn't just unlearn everything that had been shoved down his throat from the moment he came into the world, kicking and screaming.

          JJ couldn't dwell on all that now, though. He had a mission. That was his purpose right now. So he focused on Izzy's words, and gave her a small smile as he nodded as if to tell her he was alright, and then he turned back around and began to walk through the kitchen. His eyes darted around the house as he led the both of them into the small living room connected to the kitchen. And then, in the thick of it all . . . as always . . . he caught sight of his father sprawled out on the couch, his mouth slightly agape as he snored softly.

          And just like that JJ was back to square one. He felt completely worthless all over again. It was like every time he saw his father, he saw his future almost like it was haunting him, taunting him even, and he hated it. But how much longer could he run from the truth, right? Everyone eventually becomes their parents. JJ felt stupid to think he could be any different as he stared at the man he called his father. This was his world now. It always had been.

          JJ clenched his jaw and let go of Izzy's hand. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, let alone touch her. He was too embarrassed, too disheveled. He didn't even want her to see this, but she had insisted, and really, he would've done anything for her. So, he decided he'd let her in on this part of his life, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her . . . at least not right now.

          Instead, he walked off on his own, slowly approaching his father as Izzy stayed in the corner of the room, one foot in the living area and the other still in the kitchen. JJ stopped before his father's unconscious body, and just stared at him. It was clear the man had been drinking as he always did, and that made the anger grow in JJ like a wildfire. "Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom," he spat out, hoping his father would be drunk enough to just hand him the keys because really, he had no idea where the man kept them. If things took a turn though, he could leave here with another bruise. And when his father didn't budge, he became increasingly aware of what exactly he was doing. But, still, he needed the Phantom . . . so he tested his luck once more. "Dad?"

          When his father didn't awake that time, JJ glanced at the coffee table, his eyes landing on a pill bottle. He was angry again, his veins burning with rage. He had become a wildfire, burning at the touch of his own flames. And he could blame his father, but deep down, he had always blamed himself.

          He realized life was just one big blame game as he reached to pick up the pill bottle, slowly turning it around so he could read the label. Ambien, the labeled read. Of fucking course. JJ could only scoff. He looked back at his father, anger taking over as he clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils while he gently placed the pill bottle back on the coffee table. And as he stared at him, trying to ignore the fact that he had once stood before him like this except with a gun in his hands and the barrel pointed at his father's head, he caught sight of the keys to the Phantom. Much to JJ's surprise, they were on a necklace chain that had been fastened around his father's neck. And that was when JJ realized what he had to do.

          The Maybank boy quickly searched the coffee table for anything he could use to retrieve the keys from his father without waking the man. Because the longer he was there, the quicker he realized if he awoke his father . . . a bruise might be his only greeting. And despite what he would like people to believe, JJ Maybank was just a scared teenage boy with too many burdens to carry.

          So, he tried his best to stay quiet as he found a pencil and a pair of tweezers that had been abandoned on the coffee table, and picked them up. He glanced back at his father, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to control both his anger and his fear while he slowly crouched down before his father. Almost as if the world was moving in slow motion, JJ moved toward his father, outstretching his hands so he could try to fasten the keys from around the necklace on his father's neck. And he had almost made it. But (and there was always a but), Luke Maybank had begun to slowly open his eyes at the exact moment JJ was about to pry the keys from around his neck.

          "I didn't expect to see you," his father croaked, and JJ could have sworn his heart sunk to his stomach. As the boy quickly pocketed the utensils in his hands, his father paid no mind. It seemed he was too intoxicated to even notice. Instead, he just looked at his son, squinting his eyes as he watched JJ slowly back up and stand to his feet. "You're back, and with—" His words cut off as he glanced over at Izzy, who hadn't moved. He stared at the teenage girl for a moment longer, a mix of emotions swirling on his face as he tilted his head and took in her appearance. And when he finally spoke, his voice was just a mere pathetic, sorrowful whisper. "Julia?"

          JJ's heart dropped to his stomach a second time that day as he stared at Izzy's shocked expression. He hadn't expected his father to be this out of it. And fuck, he wished he would have just stayed unconscious. JJ knew what Julia meant to Izzy Windsor, and hearing her name was never an easy topic for the girl. Not to mention the fact that his father thought his girlfriend was the same girl he knew when he was growing up.

          That must have been confusing for the teenage girl standing a few feet away from the father and son. Because here was the thing: Luke Maybank used to know Julia Windsor when she was a Davenport, and JJ had never said anything about that to Izzy because one: he didn't want to fucking upset her, and two: it didn't matter. Telling Izzy that JJ's father once knew her mother would do nothing but hurt her, and he would be damned if he ever hurt her.

          When no one spoke, JJ cut in. "No, dad . . . it's Izzy, her daughter," he explained before he cleared his throat and glanced at Izzy. He was at a loss for words. His father was in an entirely different time period at the moment. He thought Izzy was Julia, but Julia was . . . well . . . gone, and he had no idea how to formulate that into words. "Julia's . . . "

          But Izzy took over. "My mom's dead," she muttered, her voice monotoned.

          And for a second Luke almost seemed . . . shocked. "Julia's dead?" he mumbled as he slowly shook his head in disbelief. But then, something flashed in his eyes and he nodded at the girl's words. "Right, right, Julia . . . she died." A small, dark laugh bubbled from his lips as he shook his head once more before he sat up and reached for an opened beer bottle resting on the coffee table. He brought it to his lips, and took a sip, swallowing the alcohol. "But, hey, Julia's little girl?" He glanced at Izzy once more and tipped his beer bottle toward her as a kind of toast. "Never thought I'd see you again, especially after your daddy fired me. Funny how that works, huh?"

          Izzy only crossed her arms over her chest and gave the man a bitter look. "Yeah, I wish it stayed that way," she spat, her voice filled with venom.

          Luke sucked his teeth and scoffed. "You still have that mouth on you, huh?" he questioned, his voice harder now, almost too dark. "It don't matter. You always were . . . outspoken . . . like your mother." He stared at her a second longer before a small smile raised itself onto his face and he laughed through his nose. "You look just like her, too. It's the eyes and that smile. A real looker, you are."

          Instinctively, JJ cleared his throat to turn the attention back to him, and said, "Dad." But it sounded more like a warning because he knew he wouldn't have his father talking about Izzy that way. Hell, he'd surely kill him if Luke even thought about touching her.

         His father seemed to catch onto JJ's urgency and the way he kept eyeing the teenage girl like he was about to rush to block her from Luke's view altogether. And not only did he notice this, but it seemed to amuse the middle-aged man too. "Oh, I see," Luke hummed before he took a swig from his beer bottle. He swallowed and gestured to the two teenagers, pointing at them with the tip of the glass bottle. "Are you two . . . ?"

          "Yeah," JJ mumbled as he nodded, "she's my girlfriend, dad."

          His father nodded. "That's . . . that's good," he said with a small, almost devious smile on his face. "Marry the rich, right? I'd do the same. Tried to, too!" A laugh boomed from his lips as he glanced between the two teenagers. "Just, be careful with this one, James—" he pointed at Izzy as he referred to JJ by his second name (that was part of the reason why he hated being called Jesse James)— "The Windsors are just downright wicked. And she's no different. She's just like her mother . . . in more ways than one, I assume. You hear me, son? She's trouble."

          Fuck, JJ thought. He didn't think his father was going to bring this shit up, and he could tell by the look on Izzy's face that she didn't either . . . nor did either of them want him to. Julia was an iffy topic, and knowing that JJ's father had known her long ago must've been something hard for Izzy to process. Sure, it didn't really come as a surprise to him that his father would go off on a tangent about Julia, but he didn't ever expect it to happen in front of Izzy. It wasn't like it was anything JJ hadn't already heard before either. It was the same shit over and over again. His father would get drunk, then start reminiscing on his life, and pretty soon he'd bring up Julia Windsor. But that was something he never wanted Izzy to know. He didn't want to ruin her image of her mother. That would surely break her.

          So, JJ being exactly who he was, said, "Dad, don't."

          But Izzy wasn't having it. "What's he talking about?" she questioned as she glanced at JJ in wonderment and confusion.

          JJ was about to answer her, but his father cut him off. "Nothing. Nothing," Luke Maybank scoffed, but it came out more like a laugh. He shook his head and brought the tip of the beer bottle up to his lips again, taking a swig before he glanced over at Izzy with his brows raised in judgment. It almost seemed like hatred fueled his veins, and looking at Izzy had only ignited the fire within him. "Julia . . . Julia picked a bad guy, you know that?"

          "Izzy, you don't wanna' hear this," JJ immediately said. He was desperate now. He didn't want her to hear all this bullshit.

          But, again, Izzy wasn't having it. "What about my mom?" she asked as she glanced from JJ to his father.

          The Maybank boy only hoped she didn't see the resemblance between the two of them. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice the way the slope of his nose was almost an exact replica of his father's or how his eyes were the same color blue, plagued with the same amount of hate and rage. He hoped she wouldn't see how the line of his top lip was the same as his father's or the similarity of the color of their hair. He'd hoped she wouldn't see everything she hated in his father in him as well. He didn't know what he'd do if the only person in the world who believed he could be better stopped believing in him, too. He didn't even want to think about it.

          A moment of silence consumed the room before Luke Maybank finally decided to answer the young girl. "The summer before my senior year of high school Julia Davenport moved here," the man began. And the funny thing was, a smile resided on his face as he spoke about the girl, but his eyes stayed hard. "Rich girl. Lived just on the outskirts of town where that motel is at. Her parents were renovating it to open for tourists and shit . . . and I was in need of a summer job." He took another swig from his beer bottle before he continued. "I worked there the whole summer, mowing the grass, fixing up the motel rooms, painting and all that. Julia would come around and help out. Couldn't tell you why she did, but she was always there."

          Izzy had begun to make her way further into the living room. "So you knew her, like, really well then?" she questioned, her voice wavering a little as she sat down on the arm of the couch and glared at the middle-aged Maybank man. "Were you . . . friends?"

          "Fell in love with her," the man muttered. He sounded more bitter now. "It was hard not to. There was just something about her."

          The silence set in again as Luke stared at the bottom of his now empty beer bottle. Deep in thought, the man was unreachable, but his son knew what he was thinking about. Julia. It always went back to her. She was part of the reason his father treated him the way he did . . . because well, JJ was a product of the life Luke got instead of the one he wanted. And when he looked at him, he was reminded of all of that. He was reminded of what happened between Julia and him, and what happened between JJ's mother and him. Although, what his father failed to see was the fact that it wasn't JJ's fault in the slightest, but rather his own. This guilt JJ now permanently carried around should've stayed with his father and not bled into his life. But it had.

          But . . . Luke would never see that. JJ had done well to remember that. He always knew his father regretted having him, especially after his mother left the both of them behind. He couldn't even blame the woman. He wished he could leave his father . . . but it wasn't that easy, because through it all, JJ Maybank still loved his father as if he were still a little kid. So, he put up with it, and he knew he shouldn't have, but he what else could he do? After all, he was just a boy.

          And if someone else were narrating JJ Maybank's life, they'd probably compare the boy to Atlas himself. And just like Atlas, JJ was known for carrying his burdens on his back and just letting it be . . . because that was all he could do, no matter how weak he felt. But in the end, Atlas wasn't a god, he was just a boy, and JJ Maybank could only bear so much.

          "But then she met Will," Luke suddenly spoke up, interrupting the silence and tearing JJ from his mind.

          A part of JJ wished Luke had been the one Julia had chosen. Then . . . JJ wouldn't be alive and have to deal with this. Instead, JJ would just be nothing, just like everyone had always told him he was. How ironic that would be, huh? But Julia hadn't chosen his father, instead, she chose William Windsor, who, if he was being honest wasn't much better. Dads just sucked, JJ concluded.

          He glanced over at Izzy again, feeling the urge to go to her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to be near her, then he'd surely feel a little bit better. She had always made him feel calmer, safer even. Maybe that was because, even though he really didn't believe in anything, he still thought that maybe just maybe Izzy Windsor was this light at the end of his dark tunnel that he had been searching for all this time. And then he thought . . . what if in the end, it ended up not being him? What if Izzy didn't choose him, just like how Julia didn't choose his father. After all, as far as everyone else was concerned, JJ Maybank was his father's son, so who was to say their fates wouldn't be the same?

          Fuck. What if—

          But JJ didn't have time to think before his father interrupted his thoughts since again. "I asked her to marry me, you know?" Luke explained further as he finally gathered enough courage to glance from his beer bottle to Izzy, who still sat angrily on the arm of the couch. "She said that I gave her this ultimatum, which I guess I did. I told her that if she decided she didn't want to marry me, then I'd go marry this girl I had met at the beach . . . a girl that reminded me of her. And then . . . she turned me down. She said she wasn't ready, that we were too young." He wet his lips, then inhaled sharply. "The only times I ever saw her after that were with Will. I guess it's funny now you all hired me to work for ya years later. Fired me, though, huh?" A small, dark laugh escaped his lips. "Anyways . . . she chose him and I . . . I went and married my wife."

          His wife. Yeah, as in JJ's mother. His father's second choice. It was why Luke never treated the woman right because he never actually wanted her, which was a tough pill to swallow. JJ remembered hearing them fight about it when he was a kid. He'd come home from surfing with John B, and he'd find his mother screaming about how Luke never paid attention to her, how he treated her as if she were meant to just cook and clean for him, how he never wanted to kiss her or hold her in public, how he didn't want her in the slightest. And Luke . . . well . . . Luke would respond by hitting the woman across her face, kicking her to the floor, or slamming her against their fragile wooden doors. (JJ couldn't count how many doors in his house had cracks in them from that.) JJ was sure that was why she eventually left him. He figured she had finally had enough. And how could he blame her? He'd leave, too. He wanted to, too, but he could never fully bring himself to cut all ties with his father.

          But JJ had always been too trusting, too loyal. Just like his mother, he would go through the burden of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders no matter the cost. It was just in his nature. If only he had the guts to follow in his mother's footsteps. Perhaps then, the boy would speak his mother's name once again without receiving a black eye for uttering the name Jeanette Maybank.

         It seemed Luke already saw the similarity between the two. It didn't matter if JJ would never truly leave him, Luke still believed he would. He still believed his son would eventually see him like how Jeanette did, and then he'd leave, abandoning him. And that made the man so angry that he found solace in beating his son black and blue. To him, that was discipline, and it was sick.

          Sometimes JJ wished his mother had taken him with her. But he knew better. His mother saw what everyone else saw in him—his father.

          JJ glanced at Izzy once more. He hoped she looked at him and saw something different, something better. But he never really knew what the girl was thinking. And as she sat a few feet away from him, glaring at his father with enough hatred to burn holes through his skull, he became increasingly aware of that notion. Izzy Windsor was a puzzle he had yet to figure out. He wasn't sure if he ever would. But that didn't matter much. He just hoped that whatever was going on inside her head had nothing to do with him. He hoped that when she glared at his father, she didn't see glimpses of JJ himself.

          Please, don't think the worst of me, JJ thought as he stared at the blonde girl and took in her solemn appearance. He needed her to believe in him, and then maybe he finally could as well. God knew he was trying. He was always trying. Just please don't give up on me. I'm trying.

          But Izzy didn't seem to feel his eyes on her. She was solely focused on his father. "When I was a kid . . . my mother told me she married my father because she wanted someone smart," she muttered, her voice sounding almost . . . vicious. She was trying to wound the middle-aged man. That much was clear.

          A scoff immediately left Luke's lips. "Smart," he hissed as he shook his head and reached for the pill bottle.

          Smart, a voice in JJ's head immediately hissed. JJ wasn't smart. What if Izzy thought the same? Was . . . Rafe smart? Was he better than him?

          JJ didn't have time to dwell on his intrusive (and quite honestly . . . embarrassing) thoughts before his father caught his attention once again. The middle-aged man opened the cap to the pill bottle and took out two pills, setting them on the coffee table before he took the edge of the beer bottle to crush them up until they were the consistency of a powder. He set the beer bottle down then reached to grab a dollar bill that had been discarded on the coffee table. It was clear the bill had already been used, and JJ was sure that was exactly why his father was reaching for it. And just as the boy had predicted, Luke rolled the dollar bill like you would roll a blunt.

          The middle-aged man adjusted himself so that he was now leaning over the powder. He took an old birthday card that had been discarded onto the coffee table, then used it to straighten the crushed Ambien pills into a line. And once he was done, glanced up to meet his son's knowing gaze and sent him a grin before he positioned the rolled-up bill to his nose. Then, in one swift motion, Luke had snorted the Ambien through the rolled-up bill and into his system. It would surely kick in soon, too. Not that he needed it anyways . . . considering the fucking asshole was already high out of his mind.

          Luke exhaled slowly as he leaned back into the couch. "So, what are you two doing here?" he asked, glancing between the two teenagers. And when neither of them answered him, he threw the birthday card at his son to catch his attention. "Huh?!"

          JJ flinched as the card hit him, and only then did he recognize the birthday card. It had been addressed to him . . . from his mother when she was still around. It was from his sixth birthday.

          Happy birthday, my sweet boy. Love, Mama, was what the inside of the card was inscribed with.

          JJ had remembered what it said, and he cherished those words. He always would. That was why it was still in the house. He kept it in his room to read when things got really . . . well . . . shitty. His father must have gone into his room and stolen it when he was gone. He clenched his jaw, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him as he remembered the past. And this time around, he did well to control himself, as he squeezed his hands into fists to keep his anger at bay.

          "Well, boy!?" his father spat, tearing the boy from his own mind.

          "Huh?" JJ mumbled as he blinked and glanced up from the birthday card that laid open on the ground to look at his father. Only then, did he process what the man was asking him, and all he could do was shrug in response. "Just checkin' in."

          His father scratched his nose, which was obviously irritated from the drugs. He was looking worse by the minute. "School out already?" he questioned, his words becoming even more slurred than they were before. (Although that wasn't by much since he had already been high when he decided to take another hit. It was a wonder that he hadn't overdosed yet (well . . . at least since the last time he did in the fall).)

         JJ blinked. He hated seeing his father like this, but he also couldn't fucking understand what was going on. Maybe he really was stupid after all. "What?" he questioned, a little shocked. It was just . . . he expected his father to yell at him or throw a punch because of the last time they saw each other. And JJ couldn't figure out why his father hadn't well . . . laid a hand on him yet. He supposed that was a sick thing to expect, but what was the boy supposed to think? That was all he had ever known.

          Luke only laughed in response, but the sudden noise made JJ flinch. "Did you ditch? You guys skip to fool around here . . . or ?" the middle-aged man asked, trying to make his point more clear to the boy. "It's all right. You can tell me."

          The Maybank boy hesitated for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah," he lied, trying to force himself to laugh. "I hit the break, you know?"

          And that, well, that made his father laugh. JJ flinched again in response. "I hated school, too. My boy!" Luke shouted in praise as he pointed at his son. And that, well, that made a small smile tug at JJ's lips, but he quickly covered it up. "Hey, you know what . . . Listen, hey." His father stood to his feet, staggering over to him. He clamped his hands down on JJ's shoulders so he was staring him in the eyes. But . . . his father's eyes were clouded over. He was too high to really even function. He probably wouldn't even remember this interaction the next day. But still . . . his father went on to speak. "Hey, look, I know I'm hard on you sometimes."

          Fuck, JJ thought. He couldn't deal with this. Not right now. He just wanted to be normal. But this . . . this wasn't normal, however, it was his normal. So, JJ being himself, responded with a simple, "Mm."

          And for a second, JJ let himself glance at Izzy out of the corner of his eye only to see the girl had stood to her feet. She looked as if she were about to tear Luke from off of JJ any minute. But JJ knew that could set him off, so he shook his head at the girl. And Izzy, well, she didn't like that, that was clear enough on her face, but still, she listened. She clenched her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest, standing silently as she watched the pair.

          "But, sometimes I see—I see your mother in you, and it gets me a little tweaked, you know?" his father said, laughing slightly.

          And all JJ could think was, there it was. There was the deciding factor, the reason his father hated him so much—his mother. To Luke, that was all he would ever be—a reminder of the woman who left him like the worthless south side trash he was. And poor JJ had to suffer those consequences over and over and over again. He was sure he always would.

          Luke patted his son's face. It was possibly the most gentle the man had ever been with the boy. That much was clear by the look on JJ's face. His father smiled at that. "You're a good boy," Luke mused as the smile on his face grew.

         JJ could only nod. "Mm-hm," he hummed. His eyes had begun to burn now. Fuck, he was going to cry. And JJ hated crying. It made him feel weak. And there was nothing more JJ hated than feeling weak. He wanted to be strong, at least stronger than this.

          "And I love you, son," his father said, and suddenly it was like JJ's world was quickly falling apart. But his father was too high to notice the expression on his son's face change. "Come here!" He was slightly laughing now as he brought his son in for a hug, wrapping his arms around him. "I love you. I love you, son. I love you."

          JJ couldn't do this. He knew he couldn't handle this. He had carried a lot for so long, and sometimes it got to be too much, but this, this was the worst thing he had ever experienced. Because . . . how could love feel like this? Surely his father would take his words back soon enough. And after JJ stole those keys around his neck and sent John B off in the Phantom, his father would go back to hating him. He would never forgive him after that. JJ knew that well.

          And as that notion set into his brain, JJ had begun to cry. But he wouldn't let that control him completely. He wrapped his arms around his father and hugged him back as he cried. "Love you too, dad," he admitted, and it was the truth. JJ loved his father, and he hated himself for it. "I'm sorry."

          "Ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," his father mumbled. He was barely conscious now. "You're a good boy." Those were the last words that left his lips, before he slumped against his son, completely passing out from the drugs he had snorted.

          This was the normal in JJ's world. It wasn't abnormal for him to find his father passed out from taking too many drugs. Hell, he'd found him in a pool of his own vomit many times, and he had to be the one to rush him to the hospital to have his stomach pumped. That was another reason why JJ had started illegally driving at just thirteen. It was all because he had to. If he didn't . . . his father would've died of an overdose by now. That was his cruel normal. And news flash, JJ Maybank hated normal.

          The boy couldn't even look his girlfriend in the eyes as he slowly guided his father back to the couch and let him rest against it. Once he was sure his father wouldn't move, JJ pulled back, standing to his feet as he stared down at Luke, who was now completely passed out on the couch. JJ could feel tears streaming down his face, but he didn't dare wipe them away. He barely even moved, he just kept staring at his father with equal amounts of hatred and sadness.

          Only when he was sure the man wouldn't wake, JJ reached forward and ripped open his father's button-up shirt before he snatched the keys from the chain and pocketed them. He gave his father one last look, hoping the man wouldn't overdose while he was gone. And then, he angrily wiped the tears from his slightly flushed cheeks before he gathered the courage to leave, passing by Izzy without a second glance, and charging out of the house until his feet touched the floorboards of the small outside porch.

          He didn't know what had overcome him. He just knew he needed to get out of that house and he needed to get out of there quick. Fuck, it was suffocating him. He tried to breathe as he brought a hand up to his chest, rubbing the tight feeling that had formed so suddenly. He breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly while squeezing his eyes shut. And once he was sure he could breathe again, only then did he open his eyes.

          Once his eyes opened, he heard the screen door screech open, signaling that Izzy was behind him, no doubt questioning what the fuck what going on. And all he could think was, fuck fuck fuck. He couldn't imagine what Izzy thought of him now. And so he found himself saying, "Iz, I'm sorry you had to see—"

          But as soon as he had begun to turn around to finally face her, the girl fell into him, cutting him off completely. She stood on her toes and engulfed him with her entire being as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her as tight as she could. It was almost as if she was trying to embrace his soul, but she couldn't reach it so she settled for his vessel. And all JJ could feel was, well . . . shocked.

          "Don't you dare apologize," Izzy went on as she buried her face into the nape of his neck. She brought a hand up to gently rub his head, comforting him with her touch. "Fuck him. Fucking fuck him."

         It was then, JJ finally embraced her, breaking down in the process. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, bringing her into him as close as he could. "I hate him but," he trailed off as he leaned his cheek against the side of her head, "I don't . . . not entirely." He swallowed, hard and squeezed his eyes shut as he inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down, but the tears just kept coming. And only then did he realize he needed this. Maybe he always had needed this—to be hugged so deeply it comforted his soul. "He's my dad. He's my fucking dad. Fuck." The tears kept coming after that. "And when he said he loved me . . . it felt real. God, it felt real, so I don't understand why he has to be like that. Why can't he just love me enough not to fucking . . . to fucking . . . do that shit?"

          "I don't know," was all Izzy said as she held him. "I wish I did."

          "I wish I could hate him, Iz," JJ mumbled the truth. And it was the truth, his truth. It always had been.

          JJ felt Izzy shake her head against his skin. "You don't have to," she whispered, her voice like honey. "I will." And then she paused as she thought. But she didn't stay silent long before she pressed an innocent kiss against his neck and continued. "I will hate him enough for the both of us. That will be enough. I promise. I will fucking hate him more than anything. I will hate him for you. You don't need to worry about that. You don't need to carry that shit around. It will end up killing you if you do. So . . . I will carry all of that, all of the hurt, all of the abuse, all of it . . . I will carry it all . . . for you."

          "What if I'm just like him?" JJ couldn't help but ask. Because, really, that had been on his mind since the moment he was brought into the world. Was JJ Maybank really who everyone said he was? Was he really his father's son?

          Only then as Izzy pulled away from him ever so slightly so she could look him in the eyes, did he see the real truth. "You're not," the girl spoke, her words full of truth. "JJ—" she placed her hands on either side of his face, gently rubbing the apples of his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs— "you are good. You are so good. You are smart and ambitious, and clever, and you are so kind. You are so fucking special it amazes me." Her eyes were glossy now as she wet her lips and tried to smile that damn smile at him. "You are everything he is not."

          And he believed her.

           JJ Maybank looked into Izzy Windsor's eyes, and all he saw was hope. He saw the hope that everything could work out, he saw a future of two kids who just wanted to get the fuck off that damned island. He saw hope, and everything in between. He saw the truth too. He saw that she believed in him. She always had. He knew that completely now, and he accepted it. Izzy believed in him. She believed the south side trash could become something else, something better. And her belief, her hope made him feel stronger. It seemed it was always her, reminding him that he was worth something, and maybe he'd believe her without any doubt at all. Maybe that day would be long from now or maybe it would be tomorrow, but he knew everything she had ever said was true to her . . . so fuck everyone else.

          But still, he wondered why it had always been her. Why her hope had always made him a little more hopeful too. Why her believing in him mattered so much to him. Why it had always been Izzy Windsor.

          And then it clicked.

         As JJ Maybank stared into Izzy's hopeful eyes, he realized what he had been trying to ignore ever since the first day he actually began to know the girl. He realized why it had always been her opinion that mattered to him the most, why he believed in the possibility of more since she came crashing into his life like a goddamn comet. He realized why it had always been her, why he would always choose her no matter what over and over again. And then he realized why that all occurred. He realized he loved her. Truly, he loved the girl with every bone in his body. His heart literally beat for Izzy Windsor, and he realized that all now. He loved her. He loved her. Holy fuck, he fucking loved her. And fucking hell, he was sure he always had.

          It had always been Izzy Windsor from day one. It always would be. He realized that now.

          "You know I—" JJ began, but he cut himself. He couldn't tell her. No, he wasn't ready to. Nothing was guaranteed. He couldn't lose her by telling her he loved her this soon. The timing wasn't right. It just wasn't. "Nevermind . . . let's go, huh? We gotta' save John B." And with that, he slung an arm around the first girl he had ever loved, the only girl he had ever loved, and guided them toward their rocky future.

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          As the two of them headed toward their rocky future, Izzy couldn't help but think how right this felt. She had done a lot of things wrong, but JJ . . . she was sure he was the only thing she had ever gotten right. It would always be him. She knew that in her heart.

And perhaps if her head let her heart take over, she'd admit that what she had always felt for JJ Maybank was rare in itself. Maybe that, too, would be another thing she had gotten right in her bleak world.

Maybe the answer had always been JJ.

a/n: ok so, i wanted to have jj's point of view again, especially with his dad because that's very important for him as a character and it would mean more rather than to have it in izzy's pov. i also wanted to have him react to realizing he actually loves izzy. like it's so important to me that the audience gets to see that.

RANDOM question but i'm bored and was curious about who people picture as izzy??? like do y'all picture nicola as the face claim or someone else?? idk i'm just curious! i don't think i'd ever change the face claim, but I've definitely thought about it since in my mind izzy doesn't look 100% like nicola! anyways, do tell i'm curious!!!

and this is also completely random but benedetta porcaroli is literally julia as a teenager and i just wanted to share that.

ALSO (and i promise this is the last note) I PUBLISHED A POPE FIC!!! it's on my account, so if you're interested, go check it out! izzy will be in it as well!! <3333

thanks for reading!