[ our favorite disaster ]
pairings: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: use of alcohol, use of drugs
part one -
the bonfire is already burning high when you step onto the sand.
music bleeds through the salty air, the bass vibrating somewhere beneath your ribs while the ocean stretches endlessly into the darkness. waves crash against the shore in steady rhythm, loud enough to drown out half the conversations happening around you, almost like the sea itself is applauding whatever chaos is about to unfold tonight.
you’ve had a long day. twelve hours at the hotel.
your dad’s hotel. one of the many hotels carrying the hopell name across the country, except this one is yours to manage. or, at least, yours to pretend you’re managing independently instead of living comfortably on your father’s endless fortune.
the second your feet hit the sand, you spot them.
tracy’s blonde hair practically glows in the firelight. aaron already looks halfway drunk, gesturing wildly with a beer in one hand, while josh is passionately arguing with someone about something so unbelievably stupid you can’t even tell what the conversation is about anymore.
“finally,” tracy calls the moment she notices you. “miss corporate america decided to bless us with her presence.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help smiling, you always smile when you see tracy.
“shut up,” you laugh, dropping onto the sand beside them. aaron immediately hands you a red cup before you’ve even asked what’s in it. josh wordlessly holds out a joint.
you take both. that’s just how it’s always been.
you’ve known these beaches your entire life. you’ve grown up on them. you’ve owned parties like these for as long as you can remember.
kook princess.
absent parents.
unlimited credit cards.
the girl everyone assumed had everything.
except for the last year… the last year has felt like one long fucking nightmare.
rafe cameron, your ex-best friend, your ex-boyfriend.
your ex-everything.
the two of you were the same age, raised in the same world, shaped by the same privilege and the same recklessness. you learned how to be loud together, how to get into trouble together, how to love each other in ways that made everyone around you uncomfortable.
by senior year, the pretending stopped, everyone already knew you belonged to each other anyway.
three years followed, three years of absolute chaos, three years of screaming matches that somehow ended with the two of you laughing an hour later.
three years of loving each other so intensely that it exhausted everyone who had the misfortune of witnessing it.
then, at twenty-one… it ended.
or maybe he ended it.
or maybe you both did.
honestly, neither of you has ever agreed on that part. every conversation since has somehow turned into another argument about whose fault it really was.
tracy follows your gaze before you even realize you’ve stopped paying attention to the conversation and she groans dramatically. “oh my god.”
you don’t need to ask, rafe cameron is walking down the beach like he owns the fucking shoreline.
his white linen shirt hangs open at the collar, sleeves rolled lazily to his forearms. he walks with that same effortless confidence he’s always had, the kind that makes him look permanently unimpressed with the entire world. and beside him… sofia.
tracy snorts. “a fucking pogue.” josh doesn’t laugh, instead, he quietly looks at you.
sofia is beautiful, effortlessly beautiful. sun-kissed skin, loose hair moving with the ocean breeze, barefoot in the sand, wearing one of those flowy dresses that looks completely accidental despite probably costing more than most people make in a week.
she looks relaxed, comfortable, especially with her hand looped casually through rafe’s arm.
and rafe, he looks relaxed too.
you hate that. without saying a word, you lift your cup and take another sip. “don’t,” tracy says quietly.
you exhale smoke before handing the joint back to josh. “i’m not doing anything.” the three of them laugh immediately.
aaron shakes his head. “you? not dramatic? that’s adorable.” you narrow your eyes at both of them.
“i’m serious.” they’re still smiling.
“i’m not doing this tonight.” tracy raises one eyebrow. “you said that last time.”
“and the time before that,” aaron adds.
“that was different.”
“why?” josh asks.
you shrug, hoping it looks casual enough to hide the uncomfortable shift in your chest. “because i don’t care.”
tracy watches you for another second and then she smiles sadly.
“you care.”
you smile back, slowly, sharply.
“i don’t.” your fingers tighten around the plastic cup anyway.
across the bonfire, rafe finally looks up, his eyes find yours almost instantly.
everything else disappears. the music. the conversations. the waves.
it’s only for a second, but somehow three years of history settle silently between you, hanging in the air like gasoline waiting for someone to strike a match.
sofia says something beside him, laughing softly. he doesn’t even look at her.
he’s still looking at you.
you lift your chin ever so slightly before bringing the cup back to your lips, deliberately holding his gaze the entire time. a silent challenge.
you promised yourself you wouldn’t be dramatic tonight and you genuinely meant it.
but rafe cameron has always had an unbelievable talent for bringing out the absolute worst parts of you.
around the fire, topper stands with one arm lazily wrapped around ruthie like she won some kind of prize. kelce laughs loud enough for half the beach to hear him, surrounded by people you used to skip class with, drink with, spend entire summers with.
people who used to feel like yours. it’s almost funny. one bonfire.
two completely different kingdoms.
for a while, it’s fine.
you drink. you smoke. you laugh a little too hard at something josh says, then launch into a story about a guest at the hotel who demanded a refund because their ocean-view suite had, according to them, a “slightly angled” view of the water. by the time you finish, aaron is doubled over laughing, nearly spilling his drink all over himself, while tracy has leaned comfortably against your shoulder.
for a few minutes, it almost feels normal, almost enough to forget rafe is even here.
almost.
every now and then, you can feel someone looking at you, but you never check, you don’t need to, you know him too well.
you know exactly how he stands when he’s pretending not to care. hands shoved into his pockets. jaw set just a little too tight. head tilted enough to make himself look bored when, in reality, he’s paying attention to absolutely everything.
the alcohol settles warmly in your stomach. then warmer. then meaner.
eventually, your eyes wander back across the fire.
sofia is talking animatedly now. kelce nods along like he actually gives a damn what she’s saying. ruthie wears that perfectly polite smile she saves for everyone.
and rafe? he isn’t really listening, he’s only pretending to. your jaw tightens.
you laugh at absolutely nothing.
then the words leave your mouth before you’ve really decided to say them.
“how the fuck can he date a pogue?”
tracy sighs immediately.
“girl..”
“no, seriously.” you sit up straighter, your voice already louder than necessary. “he hates pogues. like… religiously hates them.”
“you’re starting.” josh sighs
“i’m not starting anything,” you say, waving your cup through the air. “it’s just ironic.”
“ironic?” aaron smirks.
“it’s fucking hypocritical.” the alcohol has completely taken over now.
“he used to go on these fucking rants,” you continue. “actual rants.”
you imitate his voice so perfectly that even tracy winces.
“‘they’re parasites. they’re trash. they don’t belong here.’”
she immediately reaches over and grabs your wrist.
“lower your voice.”
you don’t.
“it’s been what? a year since we broke up?”
“eleven months,” josh quietly corrects.
“exactly.” you point at him like that somehow proves your argument. “and he’s been with her for five.”
aaron grimaces.
“you counted?”
you glare at him.
“no.”
you absolutely did.
“so what?” tracy asks softly. “he moved on.”
you let out a laugh that sounds almost cruel.
“moved on?”
another laugh escapes you.
“after seven months?” the bonfire cracks loudly, sending sparks into the night.
“seven months after three years,” you say, shaking your head. “honestly? that’s impressive.”
you take another sip. josh rubs a tired hand over his face.
“he’s a fucking piece of shit.” the sentence lands harder than you intended.
louder than you intended. for a brief second, your entire side of the beach falls silent.
because across the fire kelce turns his head and topper looks over too.
and rafe?
he heard every word, you know he did, you can see it in the way his shoulders stop moving altogether.
tracy leans closer.
“you promised you weren’t going to do this.”
“i’m not doing anything.”
aaron raises an eyebrow.
“you’re literally yelling.”
“i’m just saying it doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
“you care,” tracy repeats quietly. this time, there’s no teasing in her voice.
you look at her, your eyes shine but not because you’re about to cry. because you’re angry.
“i don’t care who he fucks,” you say, your voice steadier now. “but a pogue?” you laugh again.
“that’s just pathetic.”
the joint finds its way back into your hand, you inhale deeply, holding the smoke in your lungs for a second before letting it escape slowly.
for half a heartbeat you feel calm again, but then sofia leans toward him and she whispers something.
her fingers brush lightly against his chest and rafe finally looks directly at you, not subtly or accidentally.
directly.
like a warning or maybe a challenge. you lift your chin, because you’ve never looked away first.
you’re certainly not going to start now. tracy squeezes your knee.
“please don’t.”
you don’t answer, because the alcohol is everywhere now, flowing through your veins, making every thought louder than it should be and all you can think about is three years of growing up together, of being inseparable, of knowing every scar on his body, every stupid dream he’d ever confessed to you, every secret nobody else would ever hear.
and somehow, he replaced you in seven months with a girl he used to despise.
you let out another humorless laugh.
“watch.” your voice barely rises above the sound of the waves. “he’ll bring her to tannyhill next.”
aaron goes strangely quiet.
“he already did.” he mutters,
your head turns so fast your neck almost hurts.
“…what?”
“i… i thought you knew.” he immediately regrets saying it.
the air disappears from your lungs.
“he what?”
tracy shoots a murderous look at aaron.
“why the fuck would you tell her that?”
“it’s not exactly a secret.” he shrugs helplessly.
slowly, you look back across the fire and suddenly you notice the confidence in sofia’s posture, the ease with which she stands beside him, like she belongs there. like she’s already been welcomed inside tannyhill, his family.
your jaw clenches painfully.
“unbelievable,” you whisper.
josh studies you for a long moment before quietly saying the one thing you’ve spent almost a year refusing to admit.
“you still love him.”
you laugh right in his face.
“no the fuck i don’t.” but your voice cracks slightly, barely enough for anyone else to notice.
across the bonfire, rafe never looks away, he just keeps watching you. like he’s waiting.
like he already knows exactly what you’re about to do.
“go get us drinks,” tracy says suddenly, her tone casual, almost bored, but the look she gives you is anything but. “walk it off.”
you don’t even look at her.
“i’m fine.”
“you’re about thirty seconds away from committing a felony,” aaron mutters into his cup.
josh nods in agreement. “tequila therapy.”
you let out a dry laugh, flick the ash from your cigarette into the sand, and push yourself to your feet with exaggerated annoyance.
“relax,” you say over your shoulder. “i’m not gonna burn the island down.”
you pause for half a second.
“not tonight, anyway.”
tracy doesn’t answer, she just watches you walk away.
the makeshift bar sits a little farther down the beach, nothing more than a folding table buried halfway into the sand, a couple of coolers overflowing with beer and ice, and two kook academy boys who volunteered to play bartender because apparently pouring tequila is enough to build an entire personality around. the music is louder over here, the bass pounds through the sand beneath your feet while the fire crackles somewhere behind you, mixing with the sound of waves breaking against the shore.
“tequila,” you say. “and don’t insult me with the cheap shit.”
one of the boys laughs.
“rough night?”
“you have no idea.”
he reaches for a bottle, you take it from his hand before he can pour.
“that’s more like it.”
you unscrew the cap and take a long drink straight from the bottle, the burn settles pleasantly in your chest. for one brief second you actually feel better.
then someone steps into your space, close enough that you notice before they even speak. you don’t turn around immediately but you already know it isn’t one of your friends.
“hi” the voice is soft, careful, almost rehearsed.
you slowly lower the bottle and glance sideways just to see sofia. up close she’s even prettier, golden skin still warm from the sun, loose hair blowing in the breeze, soft features arranged into the kind of polite smile that never quite reaches someone’s eyes.
“yes?”
she hesitates for just a second.
“could you maybe keep your voice down a little?” she said with her gentle tone. “everyone can hear you. it’s just…”
she offers another careful smile.
“…kind of rude.”
you blink once, then you smile, it’s the kind of smile tracy has spent years warning people about and then you let out a short laugh.
“who the fuck do you think you are?”
her expression barely changes.
“i’m not trying to argue.”
“no?”
“no.”
she folds her arms loosely across her chest.
“i just don’t think there was any reason to make a scene.”
you take another sip from the bottle before stepping closer.
“you picked the wrong person to lecture.”
she doesn’t move.
“i’m asking for basic respect.”
“respect?” you laugh again. “from me?”
your head tilts slightly.
“you’re dating him.” you gesture vaguely toward the bonfire. “that automatically disqualifies you from expecting anything from me.”
for the first time, something flashes across her face, annoyance that disappears almost immediately.
“i haven’t done anything to you.”
“exactly.” you nod once. “and i’d like to keep it that way.”
she studies you for a moment, she looks confused.
“i don’t think you mean that.”
“trust me.” another sip. “i do.”
she exhales quietly.
“look, i know your history..”
“no.” your voice cuts through hers so quickly she actually stops talking. “you know stories.”
you step even closer.
“you weren’t there.” the space between you disappears entirely. “and i think you’re standing on the wrong side of the island,” you say quietly. “you’re not really in a position to tell me how i’m supposed to behave.”
her jaw tightens.
“i’m just asking you to stop talking about my boyfriend.”
before you can answer you hear his voice.
“let go”
deep and sharp.
instantly recognizable that makes you close your eyes for half a second before turning around.
rafe is already there, he positions himself beside sofia without quite stepping in front of her, his eyes fixed entirely on you. behind him, topper and kelce have gone quiet. behind you, you hear footsteps, your friends are already there too.
close enough that you know they’re already preparing for whatever happens next.
“what’s your problem?” rafe asks.
you stare at him for a long second then laugh.
“my problem?” you point toward sofia without looking away from him. “your girlfriend just came over here to tell me how i’m allowed to talk.”
“that’s not what happened,” sofia says quietly.
rafe doesn’t even look at her, his eyes stay on yours.
“you don’t get to talk to her like that.”
“or what?”
“or don’t.”
“that’s not really an answer.”
his jaw flexes.
“leave her alone.”
another laugh escapes you.
“a fucking pogue belongs on the cut.” your voice grows louder again. “maybe over there she gets to tell people what to do.”
you finally look at sofia.
“over here?” a bitter smile spreads across your face. “she’s the tourist.”
rafe takes one slow step forward.
“shut up.”
something inside you finally snaps.
“that’s funny.” you smile, your voice rises just enough for the people around the fire to start turning toward you. “because six months ago you didn’t exactly want me quiet.”
the beach seems to freeze and rafe’s expression changes. barely, but you catch it. of course you do, you’ve spent years memorizing every version of his face.
your smile only widens.
“my kitchen counter,” you continue loudly. “remember that?”
someone behind rafe mutters, “jesus…”
“telling me to scream your fucking name?”
sofia goes completely still and rafe steps toward you.
“stop it” he hissed.
but you aren’t finished, you’ve never known how to stop once you’ve started bleeding. josh’s arms wrap around your waist from behind before you even realize he’s moved.
“okay,” he mutters near your ear. “we’re done.”
“get the fuck off me!” you struggle immediately, trying to pull yourself free.
tracy grabs your wrist, aaron catches your shoulder.
“keep your fucking hands off me!” your eyes never leave rafe. “keep your bitch on a leash, cameron!”
his face doesn’t twist with anger, it empties. the warmth disappears completely, the same cold expression that used to scare everyone else, but never you.
josh practically lifts you off the ground as he drags you backward through the sand.
“put me down!” you’re still yelling, still kicking, still trying to wrench yourself free. rafe doesn’t move or follow.he doesn’t even yell back. he just stands there, watching and somehow that hurts more.
aaron’s truck comes into view and the passenger door swings open. between the three of them, they manage to get you inside despite every attempt you make to climb back out.
“jesus christ,” tracy breathes as she slides in beside you, josh slams the door shut.
your hands are still shaking, through the windshield, the bonfire flickers in the distance and beyond it his still there. just a dark silhouette against the flames, still standing exactly where you left him, still watching the truck.
your chest feels painfully tight, you refuse to let anyone see it so you laugh instead, a quiet, bitter sound.
“see?” you lean your head back against the seat. “not dramatic.”
this time no one laughs. aaron starts the engine, the truck pulls away from the beach and for the first time that night you don’t look back. you covers your face with both hands, suddenly completely aware of what the fuck have you done.
