Chapter Text
At the party at Topper’s house, the music blasting on the veranda was so loud it had started giving her a headache. Y/N couldn’t grasp what one of Rafe’s snobby friends was rambling about. Was his name Jason or Joshua? She couldn’t remember. He’d been talking for about ten minutes with a beer in his hand, the ice long melted.
“Do you like sports cars?”
“Yes, I guess,” She said, and his face lit up with confidence.
“I pulled a new Porsche into my garage yesterday. If you want, I can take you for a few laps tomorrow, what do you say?”
She leaned in a little to make sure she heard him right. “You got a new car? With your own money?”
“I mean, yeah, technically it’s my dad’s money but—”
“So this thing you’ve been busting my ears with for fifteen minutes is your dad’s money? If that’s the case, come to me tomorrow—I'll take you on a ride in a real sports car. My dad’s way richer than yours.”
The moment she finished her sentence, he hurled his beer at the veranda floor. Y/N flinched at the shattering glass. “Screw you, Cameron, you’re impossible,” he said and shoulder-checked her as he stormed off.
What had she said wrong? The thing he bragged about was his dad’s money. That’s what Kook kids like they did, right?
Kelce called from behind her, “How many guys have you scared off today? Dude, you’re gonna die a virgin, Y/N.” He burst into laughter and she wanted to throw her plastic cup at his head.
“Don’t confuse me with yourself, Kelce,” She muttered, but he kept laughing. Y/N ignored him and followed after the boy. To be honest, with his green eyes and brown hair, he was a cute kid, but every time he opened his mouth, the magic vanished. She didn’t want to sleep with a chatterbox. And she definitely wasn’t going to die a virgin.
As she headed upstairs, she saw Rafe somehow making his way inside, drenched in sweat. His orange shirt was so ugly and mismatched she smiled involuntarily. “Hey Rafe!”
“I can’t deal with you right now, Y/N. What do you want?”
“Tell your idiot stoner friends to stop flirting with me,” She said, and this time her brother laughed.
“You should be grateful anyone is flirting with you at all,” he said and poked her furrowed brows with his finger.
“Look who’s talking. Also, with that shirt on, you look like a squashed orange.” She giggled at my own joke. Hideous as it was, the shirt still somehow looked incredible on his sweaty body.
He sighed like his patience had run out and pulled Y/N aside from the crowd. “What are you doing?”
“Do you have cash on you?”
Of course…
“What—why?”
“Stop asking questions, Y/N. If you have cash, just give it to me.”
“You’re out of money? I told you not to buy that motorcycle,” She said, raising her voice a little. He’d bought that bike with the backup generator money dad gave him for the storm, and God knows what he did with the rest.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Y/N. I’ll give it back in a few days—more than enough.” She sighed and pulled a few bills from her wallet, placing them in his palm.
“Is that all, Sugar?” he said, eyeing the five hundred dollars I’d handed him. She ignored the nickname. Her family, especially her sister Sarah, had called her that since she was a kid. Even though she wouldn't admit it, she loved that nickname.
“I’m not a bank, Rafe.” He grumbled but shoved the money into his left pocket.
“What are you even going to do with it?”
“Mind your own business, little sister.”
“Hearing that from someone who just begged his little sister for money is so delightful,” she said and handed him a napkin that she pulled from my skirt pocket
“Also, why are you so sweaty?” He didn’t answer. Just rolled his eyes and walked off toward the living room.
The party was incredibly crowded. It looks like Topper invited everyone in Figure 8. A group she couldn’t fully place called out, “Hey Y/N, come swim with us!” from below. As if Topper even knew everyone here, but whatever. She peeled off my tulle top and skirt. Voices rose from the crowd watching her. She couldn’t help but grin. She kicked off her shoes and the entire villa erupted into chants of “Jump!”
Carefully, Y/N stepped onto the edge of the veranda.
“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” Rafe yelled, holding a plastic bag of something. She ignored him and jumped into the pool from meters above.
It was amazing.
When she resurfaced, the shouting continued. Laughing, Y/N pulled herself out onto the marble. She hadn’t struggled to breathe or panicked at all. If her dad knew she did this, he’d die of a heart attack.
As she walked across the marble floor, water streamed down her legs in a thin ribbon. The lights in the backyard flashed overhead, and people’s screams, laughter, and clinking glasses all blurred together. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed around her. The coolness of the water dissolved the pressure in Y/N chest—if only for a minute.
Then the feeling returned. That faint burning in her lungs…
Y/N’s breath felt like it was slipping out of her. She swallowed down a cough, smiling at people as she walked. Topper pushed his way down the stairs, eyes wide in a mix of admiration and panic. Y/N hated that look.
“Y/N! Are you insane? This isn’t some Triller party where you film your little vlogs!”
“Relax, Top, I didn’t die,” She said, pushing her wet hair back. Her tulle top clung to me like a soaked fish, but she pulled it on anyway. “I added some fun to your party. It was boring.”
But the adrenaline felt so good… Even if breathing was still hard, it was worth it. She stepped back onto the veranda, the crowd parted like she still carried that same jump energy.
“You’re crazy!” people yelled, and she laughed. She tugged her skirt back on and before that, squeezed some water out of it, feeling a tremor run through her—not from cold or exhaustion.
Topper hadn’t left her alone; he handed her a drink he’d sloppily poured. Of course Y/N took it and took a few fast gulps. Whatever he handed her was strong. “Slow down, champ. The drinks aren’t going anywhere,” he said, sitting beside her.
“Your stunt was great, Sugar. You really flew.”
She laughed hysterically. “Why are you hovering around me? Where’s Sarah?” She asked and just noticing her absence. Her sister wasn’t there.
Topper shifted uncomfortably.
“You two fought? What did you do?” She asked, standing up.
Topper threw the towel he was holding at the girl's face. “Sarah did something, not me. Tell your sister to figure out what she wants. We’re not playing games anymore,” he said and walked away before she could respond.
She stared after Topper as he disappeared. A sharp pain ran down her chest, from both her breathing and his words. Every time Sarah vanished, something was wrong. And the look on Topper’s face when he said “She needs to decide what she wants”… As if he’d spat out something he’d bottled up for weeks.
Great. Another drama.
She grabbed the drink Topper left on the table and chugged the rest. The alcohol ran down her throat like fire. Meanwhile, that tightness in her chest was growing. Her breaths were shallow, but no one noticed. But anyway, she didn’t want them to. If they noticed, she would feel like she was drowning for real.
The moment Y/N stepped onto the terrace, warm air hit her face. People danced, glasses clinked, and rich kids whispered secrets behind locked doors. The whole house was the most expensive version of teenage chaos.
But right now, she was only looking for one person.
Sarah.
She pushed through the crowd. Shoulders slammed into hers, someone spilled their drink, but she didn’t care. Water dripped down her ankles, leaving marks on the marble floor, but no one cared.
Two voices crashed inside Y/N’s head:
Where is Sarah?
Breathe, Y/N. Deep breaths.
Did Topper do something to her?
Breathe, Y/N.
Where is she?
Take a deep breath, she’s not going anywhere.
Sarah, where are you?
Breathe Sugar. Just breathe.
I need you.
But even when she inhaled deeply, the air felt like mud in her lungs.
At the top of the stairs she saw Rafe. Leaning against the armless chair, digging in his bag like he was looking for something, watching the room with sharp eyes. He looked wired. His eyes were red, his gaze wild—but alert. Like a maniac trying very hard to act normal. He wasn’t looking at her yet, but he would. She hesitated.
She didn’t want him seeing her like this. Because right now, while frantically searching for Sarah, she herself seemed maniac too. But of course, he did.
His eyes narrowed a little when they locked gazes. That “What did you do this time, Y/N?” expression was painfully familiar.
“I saw Topper,” She said despite Rafe saying nothing. Her voice came out crackly. “He said Sarah’s upset.”
Running around the whole house looking for her sister had worn her down. Her wet clothes clung to her, making Y/N nauseous. “I can’t deal with Topper’s dramas, Rafe.”
“This isn’t Topper’s drama,” he said slowly. “It’s Sarah’s. Your sister is acting like a slut.”
Her steps faltered and he noticed. His eyes scanned Y/N from her complexion to breathing—like he was reading her sister’s insides. It pissed her off.
“Watch your mouth,” she said, trying to steady her voice. “I didn’t know they fought. Where is Sarah?”
Rafe paused. “She walked right past you. Went to the back beach.” A beat. “She was crying after Topper. I’m sick of both of your whiny brat asses.”
“What? How did I not see her?”
“Because you were throwing yourself off the veranda and trying to die in the middle of a party,” He said, mocking but harsh. Almost like he wished she had died. Y/N recoiled at the thought. Rafe was strange, yes; he didn't like Sarah or her, but would he go so far as to wish for their deaths? She didn't even want to think about it.
“No one died, Rafe.”
“For now.” His tone made her throat tighten. She turned away to regain herself. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore, but Rafe didn’t look well either.
“Are you okay?”
“Please get the hell away from me, Y/N.” This time she listened. Her sister mattered more than him. Whatever he had in that bag, she wasn’t asking—he shoved it in his pocket anyway.
She didn’t run to the beach, but she walked fast. She needed a moment. They both did, but her steps grew quicker on their own. The pressure in her lungs worsened.
As she passed through the corridor leading to the back beach, the crowd noise faded. The music became a muffled hum. When she stepped outside, the wind hit her face. Her feet slid through cold sand.
Sarah was really there. Barefoot, toes buried in the sand. She was hugging her arms, staring at the ocean. She looked alone. This image was enough to upset Y/N.
When she called her name, Sarah turned. “Y/N?”
“What happened, Sarah?” She asked nervously. “What are you doing here all alone?”
But when she looked at Y/N’s face, her expression shifted. Her teary look turned into concern. Her makeup was smudged, and she was soaking wet. All her clothes were clinging to her. Sarah could see her bra and her face was bright red. “What happened to you? You look like you got jumped.”
“I fell into the pool—”
“Oh, stop lying,” she laughed. “I saw you jump off the roof.” Y/N laughed too as I sat beside her. After a few giggles, there was a moment of silence. Both of them listened quietly to the sea.
“You looked like you were having fun.” Sarah said.
“When I got out of the pool I thought I was gonna die. I couldn’t breathe. I’m not doing it again,” Y/N said easily. She could only talk about this with her sister.
“I hated it that, but I won’t lecture you,” Sarah said and took a sip of her beer. “I had a… problem with Topper.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“I told him I was ready. On the terrace. It felt like the right moment but when we started… I didn’t feel good. I pulled away.”
“Did he force you? What happened—”
“No,” she cut her off quickly. “He didn’t force me, but he got really mad. He stormed off and won’t look at me.”
Y/N said nothing, just slipped her arm through Sarah’s and rested her head on her shoulder. Sarah leaned into her too.
“You should break up with him, you know?”
Her words hung in the air. Sarah didn’t move, but she felt her hold her breath. Her shoulder tensed, but Y/N didn’t let go. The wind blew harder, their hair tangling.
“I know,” she finally whispered. “I just… he’s been in my life for so long. I don’t know what to do.”
Sarah lifted her head and looked at Y/N. Her eyes were puffy—she had definitely been crying. Seeing her like that hurt Y/N.
“Sarah, just not feeling right about something is enough reason. You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Especially not for someone who doesn’t deserve you.”
They sat quietly for a while. The waves filled the silence, speaking for both of them. She stared at the water, face tightening as she sank deeper into her thoughts. “I wish it were that easy,” Sarah whispered.
“It isn’t,” I admitted. “But the right thing is usually the hardest.”
Sarah pressed her lips together. After a moment, she handed me Y/N beer, she smiled and took a sip. Her rose-red cheeks probably would get worse. The cold spread through Y/N, making her feel heavier—but Sarah’s warmth beside her balanced it. It always did.
“Y/N…” she suddenly said, this time more serious. “I didn’t like what you did before, at the roof.”
She groaned, pulling away. “Stop talking like dad, Sarah. Nothing happened.” Sarah opened her mouth to argue but stayed quiet. She knew tonight had been rough for both of them. Sarah knew that their shallow lives were draining her and her sister's energy. Adapting was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing day. Jumping into the pool was just a fleeting escape for a few seconds. Y/N wanted to feel alive with pushing the limits of her breath.
Sarah noticed Y/N's increasing breathing problems, even though her sister didn't mention it. She noticed the growing pile of medication on the nightstand after each hospital visit. It was eating her up inside. But she wasn't going to press the issue; she was waiting for Y/N to come and talk to her.
“Topper threw a towel at me.” She said and Sarah rolled her eyes, though worry colored her voice. “Why do you still try talking to him?”
“Because he acts like a pest,” Y/N shrugged. “When he’s tired of you, he takes it out on me.”
Sarah smiled slightly and shook her head. “You overthink everything.”
“And you think too little.”
Their laughter blended together—a lightness they hadn’t felt in over an hour. Sarah rested her head back on Y/N’s shoulder, finally calm.
“I’ll talk to Topper,” she said firmly. “But not today.”
“That much I figured. Today’s not your day.” As waves crashed along the shore, they both fell silent again. But this silence didn’t suffocate them, it soothed them.
“Tonight… we’re just going to breathe.”
Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Breathing feels good.”
Sarah grabbed her hand. “I’m here,” she said, letting her voice be carried by the wind. “Always.”
Y/N nodded and squeezed her hand gently. “I know. I love you, Sarah. You and me, forever.”
“You and me, Sugar, forever.”