𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

... 🌊 ...

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫-𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫.

I dipped my fingers into the cool water, letting it slip between them like silk. The horizon blurred into the sky, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in it. Out here, alone on the board, I wasn't the golden princess of the Kooks. I wasn't Emersyn and Warren Aldridge's adopted daughter. I wasn't anything but a girl with the sea beneath her and the wind at her back.

I caught sight of the swell forming in the distance. The tension in the water built, tugging at the edges of my awareness. I paddled forward, my muscles moving with a practiced rhythm, the one thing I could count on to ground me.

As the wave rose, I stood, balancing with the ease that came from years of muscle memory. The wind tugged at my hair, whipping it around my face as I carved through the water, my board slicing the surface. For a few fleeting seconds, I was weightless. The world held its breath, and so did I.

But like all waves, it broke. They always do.

I crouched down, guiding my board back toward the calm. The shore beckoned, the silhouette of the beach house distant but inevitable. I let out a breath, sinking down to sit on the board. The ocean rocked me gently as if it understood.

I didn't want to go back.

Not yet.

But the sun was sinking lower, and the world beyond the waves was waiting. Reluctantly, I lay back down on my board and paddled to shore.

The sand was still warm beneath my feet as I dug my board into it. I let the weight of it settle there as if anchoring me to something real before I could drift too far into my head.

My phone buzzed from inside my bag, and I winced, knowing who it would be.

"Where are you?" my mom's voice pierced through the other end as I answered.

"At the beach," I replied, keeping my tone light, even though I knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Your flight landed four hours ago, honey," she said, the calm in her voice thinly veiled. "I was getting worried."

I swallowed, guilt prickling the back of my neck. "I'm sorry. I just needed some time before... you know."

"Well, Paul's there waiting for you."

The line clicked before I could even respond.

Typical.

I shoved my phone back into the bag with a sigh, throwing it over my shoulder before grabbing my board. Every step toward the black SUV parked at the edge of the beach felt like walking into a cage.

The driver stepped out as I approached. "Miss Aldridge," he greeted with a nod, pulling the door open for me.

I shot him a sharp look. "It's Waters."

His face barely shifted as he corrected himself. "Right. Miss Waters."

I slid into the backseat, the leather cold against my skin. The door clicked shut, and just like that, the world outside the beach vanished, swallowed up by the tinted windows and the hum of the engine.

We pulled away from the shore, the sand and sea fading into the distance. I glanced back, a familiar pang settling in my chest as the horizon disappeared from view.

Returning to this life—the one built on expectation, privilege, and the weight of the Aldridge name—felt like fitting into someone else's skin. The girl they wanted me to be wasn't the same girl who'd washed up on the shore all those years ago. I wasn't even sure who she was anymore.

The SUV hummed down the narrow road, the manicured lawns and perfect homes of Kildare Island flashing by. They called it paradise here, but to me, it always felt like something else. Like a place you could get lost in, even when everyone knew your name.

"Miss Waters?" The driver's voice interrupted my thoughts as he glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah?"

"We'll be arriving soon."

I nodded, not trusting myself to say more. I could already feel the weight of their eyes—the expectations, the questions that would go unasked but linger in the air.

I wasn't ready to be Kaimana Waters, the golden princess of the Kooks, again. But, ready or not, I didn't have a choice.

... 🌊 ...

The Alridge estate loomed ahead, its pristine white walls gleaming in the afternoon sun like a beacon, but all I felt was the weight in my chest. Nine months away, and nothing had changed. The sprawling front lawn, the perfectly manicured hedges, and even the towering palm trees swayed in the same gentle breeze. It was like stepping into a photograph—perfect, still, and lifeless.

I walked up the stone path, the familiar creak of the iron gate behind me as the SUV disappeared down the driveway. My hand clutched the strap of my backpack, fingers tight enough that my knuckles turned white. There was a time when this place felt like safety. Now, it was just a cage with invisible bars.

The foyer was cold when I stepped inside, the scent of lavender and polished wood hitting me instantly. Everything here always smelled like it had just been cleaned. My feet echoed against the marble as I set my bag down, looking around at the high ceilings and the glistening chandelier above.

So much space.

So much emptiness.

"Honey?" My mother's voice echoed from the hallway, and I tensed, closing my eyes briefly before turning.

"Here," I called, my voice sounding far away even to me.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she approached, her long, wavy hair spilling over her shoulders like always, every strand in place.

Emersyn Aldridge, perfect as ever.

She smiled when she saw me, the kind of smile she saved for big parties or important guests—practiced, polite. It never reached her eyes.

"There you are," she said, pulling me into a hug. Her arms were soft, the scent of her expensive perfume wrapping around me, but I couldn't bring myself to hug her back. She didn't seem to notice. She pulled away, studying me with that careful gaze. "How was your flight?"

"Good," I said, shrugging. 

It was a lie. The flight had been long and suffocating, like everything else.

Before she could press further, a familiar voice boomed from the hallway. "Is that my little butterfly?"

I turned, a real smile tugging at my lips, this time as my dad walked in. Warren Aldridge was as imposing as ever, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. His beard had more gray in it than I remembered, but the warmth in his gaze was the same.

"Dad." My voice softened as he crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling me into a bear hug that nearly lifted me off my feet.

"There's my little girl," he said, his voice rough but filled with affection. He held me for a moment longer before setting me down and holding me at arm's length, looking me over like he was making sure I was really there. "You've been gone too long."

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep the guilt from showing. I hadn't exactly been in a rush to come back.

He ushered me into the living room, my mom following behind us. The room was just as extravagant as the rest of the house—plush sofas, expensive art on the walls, and floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up to a view of the ocean. A view most people would kill for, but to me, it was just a reminder of the life I didn't choose.

My mom sat down, gracefully crossing her legs. "You'll be happy to know that everything's been planned for this summer," she said, her tone businesslike. You're expected to attend this year."

I nodded absently, staring out at the waves crashing in the distance. The same events every summer were filled with the same faces and the same expectations. It was like stepping into a role I never auditioned for but had to play perfectly anyway.

"And there's the Midsummers," my dad added, his tone excited. "Sarah will be there, and we're honoring Ward."

I forced a smile, but the hollowness inside me grew. "Yeah, I remember."

Their voices blurred after that, their excitement for the summer plans mixing with the sound of the ocean outside. I should've felt lucky. Blessed, even. The golden princess of the Kooks, the world at my feet. But the truth was, none of this mattered to me anymore. The waves, the parties, the glitzy events all felt like a mask I had to wear.

They didn't see it.

They never had.

Not the ache I carried, not the way I always felt like a stranger in my own skin, in my own life. They saw the girl they'd molded—Kaimana Waters, the girl who'd washed up on their shore and was turned into everything they wanted her to be.

But deep down, I knew I was still that lost girl clinging to a wooden board, drifting in a world that didn't make sense. And no amount of fancy events or perfect waves would ever fill that void.

... 🌊 ...

The wind howled through the Boneyard, whipping my hair into a wild tangle as I made my way through the sand. The air tasted of salt, and something electric like the island held its breath. It always felt like this out here—on the edge of everything. The sea crashed against the shore below, its endless rhythm calming, but it couldn't drown out the voices in my head. Not today.

I climbed onto a gnarled branch, one of many that stuck out from the twisted trees overlooking the ocean. It had become my spot, the place I came to when I needed to escape the noise. I sat, staring at the water, its expanse stretching into the horizon, making me feel small and insignificant. 

Maybe that was the point.

I hadn't been here in months, but the waves didn't care. They didn't stop for me. Nothing did.

"You've been avoiding me," a voice said from behind, breaking the fragile silence.

I sighed, shoulders tensing as I recognized it immediately. 

Rhys.

Without turning around, I responded, "I'm not doing this with you, Rhys."

I stood, brushing the sand off my shorts, ready to walk away. I wasn't here for a confrontation, especially not with him. But before I could take two steps, his hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me toward him. The heat of his body, his familiar scent of expensive cologne and sun-baked skin, hit me all at once, but I pulled back, my heart pounding in frustration.

"You broke up with me, remember?" I said, my voice low and sharp.

His jaw tightened the same stubborn look that used to make me laugh now only pissed me off. "Only because you left."

"I left for competitions," I reminded him, pulling my arm free. "You knew that. I didn't just run off."

He stared at me, eyes darkening with something I couldn't quite read.

Guilt?

Regret?

It didn't matter. I had been over this for months, or at least I'd tried to be. But standing this close to him, the hurt cracked open again, raw and fresh.

"I made a mistake," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

I shook my head, biting back the sharp retort that wanted to slip out. "How long did it take you to figure that out, Rhys? It's been nine months."

"Not long," he muttered, stepping closer. "Please, Kai—"

"No." I took a step back, forcing the distance between us. "Just leave me alone, Rhys."

I turned, determined to head toward the kegger where I could lose myself in the noise, the people, the firelight. Anywhere but here. I had to keep walking, had to stay strong. The old me, the girl who would've crumbled at the sound of his voice, she was gone. I wasn't the golden princess anymore, the girl everyone expected to fall in line with the Kook prince.

She'd disappeared the moment Rhys had walked away.

... 🌊 ...

By the time I reached the main fire, the party was in full swing. Sarah was sitting on the sand beside Topper, her laugh echoing over the crackling flames. I sank down beside her, feeling her arm loop through mine.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice quiet so only I could hear.

I forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, just...long day."

Topper stood and stretched. "We're heading out," he announced, pulling Sarah to her feet. "You coming?"

I hesitated, glancing around at the crowd. The familiar faces, the same people I'd grown up with, felt suffocating. I was about to stand when a voice stopped me.

"Hey!"

I turned, and a boy with a mess of blonde hair and piercing blue eyes stood before me with a red Solo cup extended toward me. The smirk on his face was one I knew all too well.

Trouble.

"You want a drink?" he asked, his gaze never leaving mine.

I shook my head, feeling the weight of his eyes on me. "No, I'm good."

"You sure?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, the scent of beer and saltwater clinging to him.

I nodded again, gesturing to Sarah and Topper. "Yeah, we're leaving, so—"

"Step back, JJ." Rhys's voice cut through the air, and I groaned inwardly as he appeared beside me, glaring at JJ like he was a rat that had wandered too close.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't, Rhys."

JJ didn't even glance at him. His smirk only widened as he looked at me. "I wasn't talking to you," he said smoothly. "Now, if you said 'pretty please,' I might take it under advisement. But you didn't."

Rhys stepped forward, his hand twitching like he was ready to throw a punch. "Oh, really?"

I stood between them, giving Sarah a quick glance before turning back to my ex. "I'm serious, Rhys. Don't."

But he ignored me, his fists already clenched. JJ's eyes flicked to mine, and for a second, I thought I saw something soften in his gaze. He held out the cup again. "I promise, princess. You can have it."

I was about to reach for it, hoping to diffuse the tension, but Rhys knocked it out of JJ's hand, sending beer splashing over him.

"She doesn't want it, you—"

JJ shoved Rhys hard. Sarah grabbed my arm, pulling me back as the tension in the air snapped like a rubber band.

"Seriously, Rhys," I muttered under my breath, watching JJ's friend grab his arm, trying to calm him down.

"No, no, no," his friend said, shaking his head.

JJ's smirk was gone, replaced by a sharp glare. "You're real funny, man."

Rhys moved to go after JJ again, but I grabbed his arm. "Just stop it. I'm not your problem anymore."

His eyes flicked to mine, the hurt still there, but before he could respond, Topper's voice rang out.

"Dirty Pogues!"

JJ's friend, John B, shoved Topper back, and in an instant, everyone's attention shifted. A circle formed, and people chanted, waiting for a fight.

"John B, we're supposed to be incognito, remember?" a voice called, but it was too late.

Topper threw the first punch, hitting John B square in the face. He fell back into the water, and I gasped as Topper kicked him, sending him deeper into the surf.

"Topper, stop it!" I shouted, turning to Rhys. "Get him to stop!"

Rhys moved toward Topper, pulling him back slightly, but not enough. The crowd's chants grew louder, and I pressed a hand to my head, feeling the tension rise with every second.

"Don't make me drown you like your old man!" Topper sneered, kicking John B as he struggled to get up.

The crowd roared, egging them on. John B threw a punch, knocking Topper into the water. They were both soaked, fists flying, and all I could do was watch as chaos unfolded.

"Topper, stop!" Sarah's voice cracked with panic, but it was like no one could hear her.

And then I heard it—a click. My eyes widened as JJ pulled a gun from the waistband of his shorts, pressing it to the back of Topper's head.

"He's got a gun!" someone screamed, and the crowd scattered.

I didn't think. I moved.

"JJ, stop."

He turned, his eyes meeting mine. For a second, they flickered with something—something raw and broken. But his grip on the gun didn't falter.

"What, princess?" His voice was low, dangerous.

I took a step closer, my heart pounding. "Put the gun down. Please."

He hesitated, his gaze locked on mine, and for a moment, I wasn't sure if he would listen. But then, slowly, he lowered the gun, taking a step back as Topper stumbled to his feet.

JJ fired two shots into the air, and the crowd scattered even further. His eyes found mine again, and for a split second, something passed between us. Something I couldn't name. Something dangerous.

Before I could say anything, Rhys grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the Boneyard and into the crowd. But as we disappeared into the night, I couldn't help but glance back. JJ's piercing blue eyes were still locked on me, and I knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Welcome back to 'paradise'...I guess.