MIDSUMMERS CHAOS — JJ Maybank x Lex story
The thing about Midsummers was that even the sky looked richer over Figure Eight, like it knew the Kooks were dressing up and parading around and desperately needed their setting to match their egos. Golden light spilled across perfectly trimmed lawns, and the sound of violin strings and clinking champagne floated all the way down to the marina.
Lex had only been to Midsummers once before, years ago, before she’d ditched the Figure Eight world to spend her afternoons with the Pogues, shoes muddy, hair salty, heart finally beating the way it should.
But this year, she wasn’t attending as a reluctant Kook kid.
She was going because JJ Maybank convinced her to.
“Look, Lex,” he’d said earlier that afternoon, leaning way too close as he stole one of her chips. “We’re infiltrating. Espionage. Undercover. Operation: Overthrow the Kook Kingdom.”
“You just want free food,” she shot back.
He grinned, dimples and sunshine. “You know me so well.”
So she went. For him. For all of them.
But mostly for him.
By the time Lex and JJ walked through the grand archway of the Figure Eight club, the Pogues were already scattered: John B was pretending to blend in, Pope was trying not to sweat through his dress shirt, and Kiara, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth, was aggressively eating hors d’oeuvres like she planned to bankrupt the entire Wraith family.
JJ, however, looked like chaos wrapped in a pressed collared shirt.
A borrowed collared shirt.
“Aw, c’mon, Lex,” he said as he pulled her deeper into the crowd, “live a little, this place is practically begging to be messed with. It’s like a museum where all the art hate taxes.”
“JJ!” she whispered. “Can we just try not to get kicked out this year?”
“No promises.”
They weaved between the sea of polished Kooks, all pearls and tans and cold stares. Lex felt their eyes, felt the way some recognized her last name and immediately recalculated her. But JJ didn’t notice any of it.
Or maybe he did.
Maybe that’s why he kept his hand resting close to hers, brushing against her knuckles every few seconds like a silent reminder:
You’re with me.
Lex had to force her heartbeat to behave.
And then, of course, everything started unraveling in classic OBX fashion.
Rafe Cameron was already three drinks too deep, slamming shoulders with anyone in his orbit. Topper wasn’t far behind, glaring daggers at John B every time Sarah Cameron drifted near him. Rich adults gossiped under the chandeliers like bored vultures.
It didn’t take long for sparks to fly.
John B bumped into Topper, accidentally or not was anyone’s guess, and champagne splashed down the front of Topper’s pristine white shirt.
Topper shoved him.
JJ immediately shoved back.
Kiara swore loudly.
Someone screamed they were calling security.
It all happened in seconds.
Lex reached for JJ’s arm. “JJ stop, don’t.”
But JJ had already lunged, fist connecting with Topper’s jaw. Pope tried to pull him back, John B jumped in, Topper swung, Rafe dove into the mix like he’d been praying for violence all night, and suddenly the elegant ballroom erupted into a hurricane of fists and broken glass.
“JJ, move!” Lex yelled, grabbing him before a table flipped.
He twisted, elbow cracking against Rafe’s shoulder. “He started it!”
“You made it worse! Come on!”
Security burst in, shouting. Adults gasped like someone had set fire to their yacht club. Kooks started filming.
“RUN!” Kiara shouted, grabbing Pope and bolting.
John B sprinted after her.
And JJ, bloody lip, bruised cheekbone, smiling like a feral golden retriever, grabbed Lex’s hand and ran.
⸻
They didn’t stop until they were deep in the dark, the roar of waves drowning out their ragged breaths. The beach stretched empty under the night sky, stars bright, tide high, the air thick with the smell of salt and adrenaline.
“Holy shit,” Lex breathed. “JJ, your face…”
He wiped his lip with the back of his hand, wincing. “Enhances my charm, don’t you think?”
“JJ.” Her voice cracked with worry she couldn’t hide. “Sit down.”
He obeyed, shockingly, dropping into the cool sand. Lex knelt in front of him, lifting his chin gently to inspect the blossoming bruise.
He tried to make a joke. “Hey, Lex… be honest. Do I look rugged now? Like, Hollywood rugged?”
She didn’t laugh.
Her thumb brushed carefully under his cheekbone. “Does it hurt?”
He met her eyes, blue on green, ocean on forest. “Only when you stop touching me.”
She swallowed hard. “Not funny.”
“A little funny.”
But then something shifted. JJ’s shoulders slumped. The fight-high faded. The truth bled through.
“They’re never gonna let us be more than what we are,” he murmured. “Not here. Not in this stupid island class-war circus.”
Lex hated the softness in his voice. JJ never let people hear that softness.
She sat beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to be what they think. You never did.”
“Maybe. But… sometimes I feel like the whole of outer banks is just waiting for me to screw up. Like I’m just… the mess-up kid from the Cut. The one who throws punches because it’s the only thing he’s good at.”
“You’re good at so much more,” Lex whispered.
“Like what?”
She turned his face gently toward hers again. “Like making people feel less alone.”
JJ blinked. Slowly. Like the thought had never once occurred to him.
The waves crashed closer, foam brushing their feet. The moonlight made his bruises look softer, almost glowing.
“You came back for me,” he said, voice low.
“Of course I did.”
“You always do.”
Lex swallowed, heart pounding. “And I always will.”
JJ looked at her mouth. Then her eyes. Then away, like he was afraid of wanting too much.
She reached up and pushed a strand of wet hair off his forehead. “Hey,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His breath trembled.
For once, JJ Maybank didn’t joke. Didn’t hide.
He just leaned into her hand, eyes closing, letting her hold the pieces of him the world kept trying to break.
And on that dark beach, long after Midsummers had burned down behind them, Lex wrapped her arms around him, sand, bruises, chaos and all.
JJ let her.
Because she was the only place on the OBX where he ever felt safe.