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''Then here's the plan. We're gonna steal that gold back,''

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WE STUMBLED THROUGH JJ's tiny, cluttered home, Pope leading the charge while I lagged behind, trying to stifle a yawn. My phone buzzed non-stop in my pocket—Wheezie, as usual. Her texts had been incessant ever since I'd told her I was too sick to come in, probably sending her every cat meme on the internet to cheer me up. I shoved the phone deeper in my pocket, hoping she'd understand if I didn't respond tonight.

Pope flicked on the light in JJ's room, casting a harsh glow over the mess of clothes and random junk that seemed to form JJ's natural habitat. JJ groaned and rolled over, pulling his blanket up to shield himself from the brightness. 

''Are you out of your mind? It's 2 a.m., dude!'' he grumbled, voice muffled by his pillow. "I need my beauty sleep!''

With no patience for excuses, Pope strode over, gave him a rough shake, and then kicked the mattress for good measure. ''JJ, get up. This is serious. We sent you thousands of messages!'' he insisted.

''What the hell?'' JJ protested, sitting up with a glare that could probably melt metal. ''What's so important that you had to pull me out of my dreams?''

''It's about John B,'' Pope answered. JJ's expression shifted from annoyance to alarm. Without another word, he swung his legs out of bed, grabbing a white tank top off the floor and slipping it on as he rushed to join us.

We piled into the car, driving through the empty streets with the kind of reckless determination that only Pogues could muster. By the time we reached the dock, John B was there, sitting alone, staring out over the ocean as if he was on another planet entirely. 

''Ward...'' Pope started, breaking the silence. ''He has the gold. He's shipping it to the Bahamas.'' He explained to JJ.

John B's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching as he absorbed the news. JJ moved in closer, his tone serious as he pressed for details. ''Wait, Ward hasn't left yet?''

Pope nodded. ''Yeah, his plane was too heavy for take-off. They're probably just getting everything loaded up, but he'll be gone soon.''

''We still have time,'' Kiara cut in. ''We can't give up now.''

John B rose from where he'd been sitting. ''Then here's the plan. We're gonna steal that gold back,'' he declared. For a moment, I thought about how insane this was, but then, what wasn't insane in the world of the Pogues?

JJ clapped a hand on John B's shoulder, his face breaking into an excited grin. ''Hell yeah, man!''

Kiara and Pope didn't hesitate, joining in with a cheer, and we all pulled into a tight hug. I squeezed my friends close, feeling the same reckless energy surging through all of us. We were doing this—for John B, for Big John, and for everything we stood for as Pogues.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

THE PLAN WAS set, but I couldn't shake the unease building inside me as JJ finished loading the second gun in the back of the van.

''We go in there, guns a-blazin', make Ward Cameron beg for mercy, abscond with as much gold as possible, and vámonos, get the hell out of there,'' JJ announced, slapping the gun into place.

From the driver's seat, John B was already focused ahead. ''Down the Intracoastal.''

Kie chimed in, deadpan, ''Wait for weather.''

''Exit to Cuba,'' Pope added with an edge of sarcasm, though his eyes darted toward the back as if he was half-serious.

JJ laughed, glancing over at him. ''Cuba? No, man—Xcalak. Jewel of the Yucatan.''

I watched JJ's fingers tighten around the gun one last time as he muttered, ''Oh yeah, baby. Lobsters so thick, mangoes, and no word for money.'' He looked up, beaming. ''I'm still getting used to that.''

John B snorted, glancing over his shoulder. ''We all saw it for years, JJ,'' he replied dryly.

Kie laughed, and I couldn't help but join in.

We pulled up to the airstrip, van wheels crunching against the gravel as we piled out quickly, scanning the place. 

''What's the plan? Broad strokes,'' Kie asked as she pulled herself out of the van.

Pope was already raising his binoculars. ''I don't think we got that far,'' he admitted. After a second, he sucked in a breath. ''They're loading up the gold,'' he announced, passing the binoculars to John B.

Taking the binoculars, John B squinted through them, his face shifting into a scowl as he lowered them abruptly.

''What?'' Kie questioned, catching the change in his expression.

I leaned closer. ''What's wrong?'' I echoed, heart pounding.

He exhaled sharply, his voice barely above a whisper. ''It's Sarah.''

Kie's face fell. ''Shit.''

I watched John B carefully, his eyes locked on whatever was happening with Ward and Sarah as we all tried to figure out how to get closer, how to get to the gold.

John B broke the silence. ''He's hurting her,'' he growled.

We all reacted at once. ''What?'' JJ exclaimed, sharing a panicked look with Kie.

''They're fighting,'' John B clarified, his gaze intense.

JJ's jaw dropped. ''Wait, so she...What?'' he stammered, eyes wide.

''Hey! What are you doing?'' Kie hissed as John B just turned and started running.

''JB!'' Kie and I yelled in unison, both of us breaking into a sprint to catch up, my stomach twisting with the realisation that he was about to do something completely insane.

But, of course, John B wasn't listening. He reached the van and jumped in, cranking the engine. We stopped short, watching in disbelief as he peeled out and sped straight toward Ward's airplane.

''Don't be a hero, dude! John B!'' JJ shouted desperately, his voice cracking as he waved after him, but John B was already long gone.

JJ's shoulders slumped, and he turned to the rest of us. ''Why is he always working alone?'' he muttered, clearly exasperated.

''He needs to learn how to fucking communicate,'' I grumbled, rolling my eyes, though my heart was pounding too hard to feel fully annoyed.

Kie shook her head. ''Shit,'' she whispered, and we all turned to watch in awe and horror.

We saw it all. John B—somehow, unbelievably—actually managed to outrun the airplane, steering the van right into its path. Ward was forced to hit the brakes, and the airplane jerked to a halt.

It was hard to see exactly what was happening between Ward, Sarah, and John B, but the air hung thick with tension. For a second, I felt the strange tug of pride for John B's insane determination, but that quickly faded at the sound of sirens approaching from behind us.

JJ went pale. ''I'm on probation,'' he muttered, frozen in place.

I took a shaky breath. ''I got kidnapped by Barry and threw his car in the lake,'' I blurted, almost to myself, before I realised everyone was staring.

Pope's brows shot up. ''When was this?'' His voice was loud.

''Like...yesterday?'' I admitted, trying to shrug it off, but his look said enough.

Kie grabbed my arm and JJ's. ''Look, we're no good if we're all in jail.''

''Come on!'' Pope urged, and we broke into a sprint, turning our backs on the airstrip.

As we ran down the road toward town, the roar of a motorbike whipped past us, so close I instinctively ducked, barely keeping my balance.

''Was that Rafe?'' I twisted, squinting as the bike roared off, but quickly lost sight of it.

We kept running, not slowing down, not looking back.

We all looked up, helplessly watching Ward Cameron's plane slice through the sky, the golden treasure we'd risked everything for flying away with it. 

''There goes the gold,'' Pope muttered. He turned and kicked a plastic chair, sending it skittering across the floor. ''Fuck!'' He grabbed a few scattered objects—an empty can, a small box—and launched them against the wall, his face twisted with anger.

''Pope!'' Kie's voice rang out, shocked, but the rest of us just stared.

''God damn it!'' Pope grabbed a baseball bat nearby and swung it hard against a stack of crates. ''Shit! Fuck!'' He smashed it into the crates again and again, each swing releasing a new wave of frustration. ''Damn it!''

I watched him, my heart aching for him. I knew that feeling, that awful, helpless rage. Part of me was just glad he was taking it out on the crates and not on any of us. I stayed quiet, letting him release it all.

''Pope!'' Kie shouted again as she stepped toward him. ''Pope!''

Finally, Pope stopped, his shoulders sagging as he dropped the bat and collapsed into a chair. Kie moved closer, her tone softening as she reached out. ''Pope,'' she murmured, trying to console him.

JJ sighed. ''Yeah, dude,'' he murmured, kneeling beside Pope. ''I was kinda wondering when this was gonna happen.''

He fished a joint out of his pocket and held it out to Pope with a grin. ''Here you go, chief. A little weed never hurt no one.''

Kie shot him a warning look. ''JJ.''

I snatched the joint from him, giving JJ a little shrug. ''He's got a point, though,'' I muttered, glancing over at Pope, hoping to get him to crack a smile.

''You know he doesn't smoke,'' Kie reminded us, her gaze flicking between me and JJ.

JJ just shrugged, unfazed rolling another joint. ''Maybe not until today.''

Kie looked at Pope again. 'Yeah, but what's that gonna help?''

Pope stared down at his hands ''I lost my scholarship,'' he confessed. ''Walked out in the middle of the interview. It's gone. It's not gonna happen.''

Kie's expression softened, and she rested her hand on his shoulder. ''You did that...for us?''

Pope let out a long, exhausted sigh. ''Not for us. For nothing.''

''Hey,'' JJ said, giving Pope a reassuring clap on the shoulder. ''I'm here for you, Pope. Welcome to my world, okay?''

Kie opened her mouth to protest, her gaze flicking to JJ. ''JJ—''

''What, Kie?'' JJ's voice was sharp. ''He's right. It doesn't matter anymore.''

I looked over at Pope, heart sinking. ''They can't let you try again?'' I asked softly.

Pope shook his head, his face clouded with sadness. ''No,'' he replied bitterly. ''No, they can't.''

Before any of us could speak, Kie's gaze snapped up, her eyes widening. ''JB?'' she whispered.

I turned and felt a surge of worry as I saw John B. His face was bruised, his hands bloody, and he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back.

''Oh, my God! John B!'' Kie cried, rushing over to him.

''Is this yours?'' she asked, clearly alarmed.

JJ moved to his side ''Hey, you okay, man?'' he asked, his voice softer than usual.

But before John B could answer, the piercing sound of police sirens cut through the air, sending a chill down my spine. I looked around in panic, realising there was nowhere to run.

Without thinking, we ducked down behind some crates and old barrels, our breaths caught in our throats as the sirens grew louder and eventually moved past them before the sound faded completely.

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