Even in the supposed comfort of her room, Bianca didn't feel like she was home.

Instead, she felt a strange longing tug at her heart— a sort of homesickness but not quite. She wanted to go home, desperately, but what could she do if she was already there? Where else could she go? What else did she have left?

The realization struck her like lightning. Then, her ribs collapsed and it left a blackhole between her lungs, sucking everything in its wake.

Empty. That's what it was. She felt so, so empty.

Her room appeared exactly as she left it; the makeup was still strewn across her vanity, and one of her drawers was still partially open. The bed was made but the pillows were unfluffed and the sheets slightly wrinkled.

Bianca stared at the hand-tailored cashmere and silk garments lining her walk-in wardrobe, each fabric neatly adorned on white hangers. On one side were shelves of red-bottomed pumps and diamond-encrusted stilettos while the other housed designer mini handbags, so small and impractical they could only fit a cell phone and lipgloss.

Bianca's head tilted with curiosity. Her hair dripped water onto the floorboards below but she didn't tear her gaze away, standing in nothing but a white satin robe.

Sometime in the summer, she traded the argyle and houndstooth clothing for sundresses and mini skirts. She used to love it but now, even dressing herself felt like a chore.

By the time Bianca blended the last of her concealer beneath the dark circles rimming her eyes, Reginald knocked on her bedroom door, claiming lunch was prepared. The girl sighed, dusting a pinch of blush against her cheeks, and told him she'd be down in a minute.

By the time she reached downstairs, her family welcomed her with open arms. Pilar told Bianca she'd be teaching her Castilian Spanish while piling a serving of food onto her plate enough to feed ten men.

Bianca glanced up at Lydia who carefully curated her own plate, sizing each portion of meats, vegetables, and carbs. While her mother was doing that, Pilar claimed Bianca had lost too much weight while she was missing, which she wasn't used it.

Of course, the minute Bianca sat down on the dining table, immaculately lined with steaming dishes prepared by Reginald as a celebration of her homecoming, she was met with a barrage of questions. At first, she gave simple answers, telling them of how she and her friends landed on a deserted island for a month.

But then they started probing more and Bianca began to shift uncomfortably in her chair. She didn't know how much her grandparents knew nor did she intend to find out.

"If it's okay with you guys, I don't really feel like talking about it yet," Bianca cleared her throat politely. She pushed a piece of steak across the plate with her fork, not wanting to meet any of their curious gazes.

Although, she didn't miss the slight widening of her mother's eyes or the look her grandparents shared. Lydia's spoon clattered on her plate but she swiftly picked it up, as if she wasn't expecting her daughter to sound so curt but firm all at the same time.

"Whatever you want, corazón," Teodoro wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin before placing it down on the table. "We can talk about it whenever you're ready. We only want the best for you," He gave her a weak smile.

Bianca didn't bother trying to return it. She merely pushed herself to her feet, "Can I go see JJ, now?"

Her mother opened her mouth, lips curled, prepared to dismiss the request but Pilar raised a hand, "Ah-" She interrupted before Lydia could speak. "Of course, you may. Reginald, dear, pack him some leftovers, will you? I won't have that boy going hungry tonight."

"Of course, Pilar," Reginald nodded and stood up from the table to do so.

Bianca headed over to the kitchen island, placing her untouched food on the kitchen counter. She could feel Lydia's heated glare on her back and knew her mother was unhappy but didn't dare question Pilar.

"Are you sure you won't stay for dessert?" The corner of Reginald's lips tugged downward for a split second before it disappeared. "I made croquembouche."

Bianca pursed her lips, "Thanks, Reg," She shook her head, taking the plastic containers of leftovers from him. "Save some for me later?"

Reginald sent her a curt nod as she turned away, heading to the front door but before she could leave, her Abuelita's voice interjected, "Bianca, wait."

Bianca paused and watched with curious eyes as the older woman walked over to the drawers beside the front door. She opened it and pulled out an iPhone, one of the latest models and by its sleek design, Bianca could tell it was brand new.

"When's your curfew?" Pilar questioned.

"My curfew?" Bianca's eyebrows drew together.

"She does have a curfew, sí?" Her grandmother turned to face Lydia who pursed her lips.

"She does," She nodded, almost too quickly.

"I do?" Bianca frowned.

"I don't know," Lydia shrugged, glancing unsurely between her daughter who she was yet to set boundaries with, and her mother. However, when Pilar shot her a look, she cleared her throat, "Uh, yes- yes, you do. You'll be back at, um... a reasonable hour."

Bianca's frown deepened but she didn't argue against it, "Uh, okay. Sure."

"Take this. There's a credit card in the back. All our phone numbers are already in there, even Reginald's. And be sure to call us if anything goes wrong," Pilar voiced with a stern arch of her eyebrow. "Anything, entiendes?" [Anything, understand?]

"Yeah, I will," She nodded, taking the phone from her outstretched hand. When the older woman continued to give her a look, Bianca corrected herself, "Entiendo. Gracias, Abuelita." [I understand. Thank you, grandma.]

"Okay, off you go now," Pilar began waving her off. "But we will talk about it, Bianca," There was an edge in her tone, almost like a warning.

Bianca's eyes narrowed but she held her tongue. The girl gave her grandmother a simple nod before grabbing her car keys from the drawers and streamlining it out the door, desperate to see her boyfriend.

When Bianca stepped onto the front porch, she inhaled a lungful of air, feeling as though she could finally breathe. The tightness in her throat unraveled and the constraints binding her ribs loosened. Although she hadn't necessarily told a lie yet, it still felt like she was living one.

She needed to see JJ. She needed to clear her head and the moment her convertible came into view, she knew exactly how to do it.

There wasn't much Bianca missed in the Outer Banks. Save for her family and the Pogues, there wasn't anything tying her to this place. Except her car.

Oh, how she missed her baby. She missed everything from the rich, Corinthian leather and the rumble of the 455 horsepower engine. She missed rolling the roof down and hitting the gas pedal. She missed the wind coursing through her hair with the music blasting. For a moment, driving her car, Bianca felt like herself again.

As it turned out, Teodoro and Pilar moved to Figure Eight to be closer to Lydia after Bianca's disappearance. Despite the mere five-minute drive, they spent most days at their daughter's house for moral support.

Bianca felt guilty for thinking her grandparents couldn't have arrived at a more inconvenient point in her life. Sure, to them, it must've seemed like the ideal time to extend an olive branch and repair the bridge that had been burned long before Bianca was even born. And she was sure her mother was grateful for the familial support but after the ship with her father and in Barbados, she couldn't outrightly tell her mother the truth about everything that happened.

Bianca should've known better than to think secrets and lies were anything but the norm in the Prescott household. These were the thoughts that occupied her mind as the multiple-story mansions shrunk to the dilapidated sheds of the Cut.

It wasn't long before she was arriving at JJ's alleged home. It was alleged because Bianca didn't actually know if this was JJ's house. She recalled the one time her boyfriend told her his address but she was merely going off memory. Hopefully, she wasn't knocking on the door of a serial killer's house because from the outside looking in, it sure looked like one.

Bianca frowned at the overgrown, dead grass along what she would refer to as a front lawn, only there was no white picket fence to tell her where the land started and ended. She pulled out the leftovers from the passenger seat and made sure to double check she locked her car after exiting.

Before the girl could even wonder if this was JJ's house, her heart sunk at the sight of two yellow tapes marked in the shape of an X across the front door. It read, 'SHERIFF'S LINE DO NOT CROSS'.

Bianca swallowed thickly, trying not to let the dread creep up her neck. Now, she really did hope this was some random serial killer's house and not her boyfriend's. Her steps were quick as she headed up the small stairs to the front door, reading the big, bold warning, 'EVICTION NOTICE'.

"No, no, no," Bianca whispered to no one in particular. She walked around the front of the house to the back— fuck trespassing. Where the hell was JJ?

The backyard wasn't any better. Spiderwebs clung to the walls and old debris lay strewn all across the ground. Bianca squinted through the marsh, which glimmered with beams of the afternoon sunlight reflecting off the ripples.

It wasn't until she noticed JJ's red dirt bike parked beside a rickety and battered wooden table, cluttered with various toolbox items, did her shoulders sag in relief. Unless JJ was at the Chateau, he would've brought his dirt bike which meant he hadn't gone far. But still, there was no trace of her boyfriend.

"JJ?" Bianca called wearily, treading against the grass as if someone would jump out and tackle her at any moment. "JJ?!"

When she received no response, Bianca hesitantly headed up the side porch. She craned her neck, trying to peer through to see inside. On one side of the veranda, lay a tattered, muddied couch which at one point, appeared to be beige, and on the other, an opened window.

Bianca walked toward it, each step slower than the last, "JJ?" She called again. "J—"

"Hey, honey!" JJ stuck his head out of the open window with his chin in the palm of his hand, causing Bianca to let out a yelp. "You're home early."

"JJ!" Bianca chastised, fumbling with the leftovers, having almost dropped them in shock. "You scared me, you asshole!"

"My bad," He gave her a cheesy grin and gestured behind him. "Come in. Please, step into my office."

The girl tilted her head, "Charming," She deadpanned.

"What can I say? I try," JJ joked before pulling back. "No, but seriously, get in here."

Bianca pursed her lips, glancing at him with a moment of hesitation before ultimately resigning. With a sigh, she handed JJ the leftovers before heaving herself through the small window, albeit a little clumsily, "Are you sure you're allowed to be in here?"

"Yeah, nah, no way," JJ shook his head, studying the containers with furrowed eyebrows. "It's for like, nonpayment, or whatever. I've got three weeks before they kick me out. Doesn't matter. This place sucks anyway- hey, what is this?"

Bianca's frown deepened, but she was too concentrated on steadying herself against the ledge as she stepped inside, "Oh, it's um- they're leftovers."

If JJ noticed, he didn't acknowledge the way Bianca's eyes widened at the state of his house. Glass and canned beer, some full, some empty, lay discarded against various countertops and tables. A thin layer of dust lined every surface and random belongings— shirts, shorts, shoes were thrown across the furniture.

The wooden floorboards creaked with every step and mold inched across the window panes. Paint chipped off the walls, most likely from water damage and the cracks in the ceiling were alarmingly big. Bianca swallowed thickly, if she didn't know any better, she would've assumed this was a hoarder house.

"Leftovers?"

"Huh?" Bianca snapped her head toward her boyfriend who began opening the lids of the containers. "Oh, yeah- my mom's got me on total lockdown. She didn't even want to let me out of the house but I told her I had to come see you. Abuelita was all for it though," She gestured to the food boxes. "Made you her special paella and everything. The rest is just whatever Reggie cooked up."

"Well, send her my regards," JJ scoffed and began walking away. "I'll put it in my fridge- wait for it to get all nice and moldy."

Bianca's heart sank further as she watched JJ open the refrigerator door and place the food inside even though the light didn't turn on. The lack of electricity and emptiness inside the fridge wouldn't do him any good, "JJ..." She trailed off.

"No, trust me," The boy told her without turning around, still adjusting the containers. "It adds flavor. Mold is good for you, it's just a natural... organism."

"That's not funny."

JJ shrugged, finally whirling around, "I don't know, I crack myself up sometimes."

"I'm serious, JJ," Bianca strode forward with a glare. "You know you're always welcome at mine, right?"

Easy for her to say, JJ wanted to scoff. Now that they were back home, she got to live in her fancy mansion in Figure Eight like the other Kooks while he slummed it at the Cut. He missed Barbados, back when everyone was equal, even if it was a shitty thing to wish for.

But then JJ met her gaze, full of sincerity, and immediately felt like a grade-A asshole for being annoyed at something Bianca couldn't even control. He never had someone care about him so much they were angered when he failed to look after himself.

His heart pounded, "Yeah, not sure your Mom or Reggie would be too stoked about that one."

"Well, then they can get over it," Bianca's bottom lip stuck out slightly in a pout, the way it always did when she was pissed.

JJ couldn't tear his eyes away from hers and found his next joke faltering before it left his lips, "Yeah, I know," His adam's apple bobbed. "It's fine. I was planning on crashing at the Chateau anyway. If I'm going to be a squatter, might as well be one there..." He braced his forearms on the kitchen island. "Great to be back in the Outer Banks, right?"

"Right," Bianca's eyes caught the way his muscles tensed beneath his bottle-green t-shirt. "It feels weird... being back."

"Good weird?" JJ's gaze flickered toward her. "Or bad weird?"

A small sigh slipped past the girl's lips as she stepped closer and placed her smaller hand over his taut arm, "I can't tell."

Bianca's stare lingered on his lips, desperate to kiss him. To feel his skin on hers. And JJ was too. She could tell by the way he leaned down to close the distance between them. Only, before her eyes could flutter shut, JJ pushed off the kitchen island.

He turned away, back muscles straining through his t-shirt, "Look at you. You got your new threads on."

Ignoring the sting of his rejection, Bianca frowned and glanced down at her white sundress. Her hands reached for the matching white headband on her head, "Oh, this is just- um... This was just to keep the hair out of my face," She pulled it off and balled it into her hand. "It's grown kind of long since the island."

The muscle in JJ's jaw ticked but he didn't say more as he watched her tug at her overgrown bangs in need of a haircut. For some reason, the headband didn't feel like just a headband.

Bianca swallowed thickly, feeling the air shift around them. She cleared her throat, "So, get this. When Sarah and I got off the boat, John B was already there..." She trailed off, and at her words, her boyfriend whirled back around with widened eyes. "With Big John."

JJ stood frozen in place, incapable of anything other than blinking at her. He was afraid that if he made any sudden movements, all this would disappear and it would all be just one cruel, sick joke.

Bianca's lips tilted upward at his reaction, "He's alive."

"Seriously?" JJ's face lit up with a sort of giddiness she hadn't seen before.

"Yeah," Bianca nodded, trying to stifle the smile on her face. "He's at the Chateau."

"Damn," JJ scoffed, shaking his head. "Holy shit. He actually found him. John B actually found him."

"Guess you really can't kill a Pogue," Bianca laughed lightly and a moment passed in which she watched JJ pace around the kitchen, running his hands through his already tousled hair. "I know what he meant to you."

JJ glanced down at his feet, the dimple on his right cheek appearing, "Yeah," He breathed out.

The state of his home, and the eviction notice taped to his front door spoke volumes. Big John was more of a dad to him than Luke Maybank could ever be. He taught JJ how to fish, pilot a boat, and make a mean cheese toastie. Those were moments JJ cherished just as much as John B. Moments that meant more to him than any lost treasure or bars of gold could amount to.

Bianca's head tilted adoringly and rounded the kitchen island to be closer to him, "Yeah, he thinks we're close to the same treasure Singh was talking about but I don't know..." She wrung her hands together. "I kind of get the feeling he doesn't like me."

JJ let out an amused chuckle, "No? Really?" He arched an eyebrow sarcastically. Michael Prescott and Ward Cameron tried to murder him and then proceeded to cover it up. He didn't blame Big John for being a little hostile toward their daughters.

Bianca rolled her eyes, "I'm serious, JJ," She deadpanned. "I don't want him thinking I'm anything like my dad or something."

Upon noticing the storm brewing behind her eyes, the blond boy pushed himself off the counter, "Look, B, coming back here probably just brought up some unwanted emotions he needs to work through," JJ shrugged. "The fact that it's you and Sarah doesn't really help."

"Yeah, but..." Bianca shook her head, her frown deepening. "It's not just that. I don't know, he said what happened between him and my dad doesn't mean anything but when John B asked him where he went in the morning, he wouldn't answer. At least, not when Sarah and I were around. It's like he doesn't trust us."

JJ sighed, pursing his lips as he watched her shoulders sag. Immediately, the guard around his heart dropped, wanting to engulf her in his arms, "Listen, whatever happens, John B wouldn't lie to us, alright?" He tipped her chin up with his thumb and forefinger. "You and Sarah are just as much a part of this as Big John ever was. If you trust anything, trust me."

Bianca's pulse tripped all over itself, got up, and then tripped again. Staring into her boyfriend's eyes did something no defibrillator ever could.

Wanting to cheer her up, JJ gave a boyish smirk, "Hey, why don't I give you a tour?"

"JJ..." Bianca trailed off reluctantly when he took her hand and tugged her forward.

"Come on, let me show you around," He urged and pulled her into the living room.

author's note. hi my loves ! what did you think of this chapter ? i just started uni again and i am depressed to the max but writing and ur comments make me so happy <3333 i hope you have/had a great day !!! love you guys (also praying this sag-aftra strike is resolved quickly and our lovely writers & actors get everything they deserve & more !!)