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kats0nlin3 · 17 days ago

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shore things | s1.ep1 “Hello Kitty, Goodbye Chill”

summary The roommates finally arrive at the beach house and things kick off with sun, boardwalk fun, and way too many drinks. From flirty banter to stuffed-animal competitions, everything feels like the perfect summer getaway… until late-night hookups and jealousy explode into the first fight of the season.

warnings 18+ only, alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (making out, heavy petting), infidelity/cheating themes, physical fight/violence (blood, bruises), yelling/arguments, swearing.

𝜗𝜚

“I don’t have to explain bleep to you!” Eddie snaps, his voice cracking sharp down the hallway. He’s half-standing, half-blocked—Robin has her arms spread across the doorframe, palms splayed like she could hold back a charging bull. Her knuckles are white, her breath jittery.

Across the hall, Jason’s face is nearly scarlet, jaw clenched so tight a vein thrums in his temple. “You’re lucky I don’t knock the bleep out of you right now!” he fires back, straining against the weight of your hands braced hard against his chest.

“Jason, just let it go!” you plead, heels digging into the tile as he jerks forward.

Eddie leans around Robin, eyes blazing. “Come do it then, bleep! Bleep do it!”

Jason lunges, shoving past your grip with raw force, and in the same instant Eddie breaks through Robin’s blockade. The hallway explodes—shoes scuffing against linoleum, shoulders slamming together, the sound of breathless curses ricocheting off the walls.

“Stop—stop! Stop!” Chrissy’s voice pierces the chaos, sharp and shaking, but it barely cuts through the roar of bodies colliding.

—

24 Hours Earlier…

The sun blazes down on the beach, the water glittering like broken glass beneath the crashing waves. Kids shriek as they cannonball into the surf. Seagulls circle overhead, their cries slicing through the humid air, while on the sand, sunbathers stretch out like lazy cats, glistening with tanning oil. The boardwalk hums with life—ferris wheel grinding slowly, game barkers shouting challenges, the scent of fried dough and salt clinging to every passerby.

A sleek black BMW glides up in front of the two-story beach house, engine purring before cutting off. Steve steps out, pushing his sunglasses down to glance at the house, then sliding them coolly into the collar of his shirt. With a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he pops the trunk, hauls out his bags, and struts toward the front door like he owns the place already.

Inside, his sneakers squeak against the polished hardwood as he does a quick lap: six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a sprawling living room, a dining space big enough to host a small army, and out back, a bubbling jacuzzi that overlooks the flashing lights of the boardwalk rides.

<Confessionals: Steve>

“It’s a pretty solid place. I was debating whether or not to claim a room already but…”—he shrugs—“I think it’s smarter to wait, scope out the roommates first. Unless it’s with a hot chick. Then hey—” his smile widens into a cocky laugh—“no complaints there.”

Cut back—

The front door bangs open. A girl with strawberry-blonde hair stumbles in, wrestling two oversized suitcases that look ready to topple her. She lets out an exasperated huff as she drops them with a heavy thud.

“Hey!” Steve calls, stepping forward with that easy grin. They fold into a quick hug, Steve’s cologne brushing past her as he pulls back. “Nice to meet you—I’m Steve. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Chrissy,” she says brightly, smoothing a strand of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to meet you too!”

“Shall I give you the tour?” Steve offers, already gesturing toward the staircase with a little flourish like a game-show host.

Chrissy clasps her hands together, bouncing on her toes. “Please!”

The camera follows as Steve leads her from room to room, tossing off little quips about the jacuzzi, the oversized fridge, the “prime real estate” bedrooms. By the time Chrissy has gasped her way through the deck view, three more figures are rolling their suitcases through the front door—Billy with his cocky swagger, Nancy with a purposeful stride, and Jason carrying himself confidently.

Cut to outside—

The summer air is heavy with salt. You can’t help but sweat a little as you wrestle your bags out of the trunk. A low growl of an engine cuts through the noise, and a motorcycle pulls up beside you. The rider kills the ignition, swinging a booted leg over the bike with practiced ease. He flicks the last drag of his cigarette to the pavement, grinding it out with his heel.

Long curls fall loose as he yanks off his helmet, slinging a single backpack over one shoulder. His dark eyes flick toward your overstuffed luggage. “Need help with that?” he asks, voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. He nods at your bags, already reaching out a hand before you can answer.

“Yes, thank you!” you say, passing him the heaviest suitcase. Eddie staggers for half a second under the weight, then straightens like nothing happened.

“Jesus,” he mutters with a laugh. “What’d you pack—summer and winter clothes?”

You giggle. “Can’t exactly survive on just two bikinis.”

“Pretty sure you’d look sexy in any of them either way.” He says it so casually you almost miss the bite of flirtation.

You narrow your eyes, smirking. “Flirting already…?”

“Name’s Eddie.” He glances sideways at you, curls falling into his face. “And you are?”

You tell him your name, and just as the two of you reach the front steps, another figure barrels into view—a girl with shoulder-length hair, practically vibrating with energy.

“Oh, perfect! You’re carrying luggage,” she chirps, shoving a duffel into Eddie’s already burdened arm before he can protest.

Eddie groans, wobbling under the extra weight. “And you’re handing me a bag, okay. Sure. No problem. My chiropractor thanks you.”

The girl beams, totally unfazed. “I’m Robin! Very nice to meet both of you!”

“Likewise,” you reply, trying not to laugh at Eddie’s deadpan suffering.

Eddie, juggling three bags now, mutters under his breath, “I’m running a damn bellhop service.”

As soon as the three of you step through the door, a wave of voices crashes over you. The kitchen is alive—music thumping low from a speaker on the counter, the air sharp with cheap vodka and lime. Steve, Jason, Chrissy, Billy, and Nancy are all gathered around the island, red cups in hand, laughter bouncing between them.

“Hey! The last ones are here!” Steve cheers, striding forward to clap Eddie on the back before pressing a cup into your hand. The others follow suit—Chrissy with a bright smile, Nancy with a polite nod, Billy raising his drink like a toast. Jason hangs back, his eyes flicking over Eddie with a look that lingers a little too long.

Within seconds, you’re all holding cups of your own, the group clustered tight around the island, voices overlapping in introductions and jokes.

<Confessionals: Jason>

“Last three roommates, right? And that Eddie guy rolls in with… a single backpack?” He chuckles dryly, shaking his head. “I mean, come on—we’re here the whole summer. You brought, what, two pairs of jeans and a Metallica shirt? Couldn’t even afford a suitcase?” He raises his brows at the camera, scoffing. “Looks dirty already.”

Cut to: Eddie shotgunning a beer in the kitchen, foam spilling down his chin.

Billy sets his cup down with a loud thunk, leaning his elbows on the island like he’s about to broker a deal. “Alright,” he drawls, eyes flicking around the group, “let’s talk room situation. Now—while I wouldn’t exactly mind bunking with blondie over there—” his gaze cuts to Chrissy, who

immediately drops her eyes, cheeks flushed pink— “I’m guessing we’re sticking to the whole boys-with-boys, girls-with-girls thing?”

There are a few nods, a few shrugs, nobody committing.

You clear your throat. “Honestly? I don’t care who I’m bunking with… as long as I get the room with the balcony.” You grin, lifting your cup in a little mock-toast. “If everyone else is cool with it?”

For a beat, the group just looks at each other. Jason shrugs. Nancy gives a polite “fine with me.” No objections.

“Awesome!” you say, already sliding off your stool to grab your suitcases. The wheels clatter against the steps as you make your way upstairs, victory buzzing in your chest.

By the end of the shuffle, the rooms are set: you, Eddie, and Robin in the balcony room; Steve, Chrissy, and Nancy downstairs; Billy and Jason shoved together in the twin-bed setup.

Everyone scatters to unpack—closet doors creaking, drawers slamming, laughter bouncing through the halls. Eddie tosses his lone backpack on his bed like it’s a claim of territory, while Robin’s already hanging up clothes in color order.

The sun dips low outside, painting the balcony in gold. By the time bags are empty and outfits are swapped, the group is buzzing again—music turned up, perfume hanging in the air, sneakers laced.

It’s official: the first night out on the boardwalk awaits.

—

The boardwalk pulses with life, glowing under strings of lights and neon signs. The salty breeze carries the smell of fried dough and popcorn, mixing with the tinny music blaring from carnival rides. You and your group weave through the crowd, stopping at a cluster of game booths.

“Alright,” Billy smirks, slapping a few bills on the counter, “first guy to win a stuffed animal for his girl wins bragging rights.”

The boys crowd the booth, competitive fire sparking instantly. Steve nails the first shot, winning Nancy a small but classic teddy bear. He hands it to her with a flourish, grinning like he just won a championship. Billy follows up by landing a perfect throw, tossing you a fluffy yellow duck that makes you laugh out loud. Eddie, with a dramatic bow, wins Robin a turtle plush that’s somehow both adorable and lopsided.

Meanwhile, Jason lingers at the stall next door, jaw set, trying again and again for Chrissy. His eyes flick to her every time he misses, determination written all over his face. The rest of you cluster off to the side, arms full of prizes, watching him burn through tokens.

<Confessionals: Robin>

Robin hugs her turtle close, shaking her head with a grin. “Seems like Jason really took a liking to Chrissy. It’s cute, honestly. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned—never, ever, ever hook up with your roommates. That’s just trouble waiting to happen.”

<Confessionals: Steve>

“I’m all for impressing a girl…but seriously? How hard do you gotta try? Guy’s blown half of mommy’s allowance just trying to win one bigger prize for Chris. It’s… desperate.”

<Confessionals: Chrissy>

“You know, I saw the group rolling their eyes, making faces, because Jason didn’t want to hand me some cheap little plush. Like, sorry, but I’m worth more than a dollar-store stuffed animal. I appreciate the effort.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, Jason lands the shot. The carny hands over a giant Hello Kitty plush, practically the size of Chrissy herself. Jason beams as he passes it to her. The group erupts in mock applause—Steve slow-clapping, Eddie giving a sarcastic bow, Robin whistling.

“Ignore them,” Chrissy murmurs, hugging her new plush tighter.

“Totally worth it,” Jason says.

The group drifts down the boardwalk. You and Steve climb into the front car of the rollercoaster, the chain clacking beneath you as the car jerks upward. Steve throws his hands up before the drop, his laughter cutting through the wind, while you scream and clutch the bar until your knuckles ache. By the time you stumble off, your hair’s a mess and Steve’s grinning.

Meanwhile, Nancy and Robin cram into a photo booth, pulling goofy faces and posing like models between flashes of bright light. They emerge laughing, a strip of blurry pictures dangling between them.

A few stalls down, Billy leans against the counter, tossing out his best smirk at a pair of girls in crop tops. Their giggles carry down the boardwalk as he flexes, drink in hand.

Eddie’s off to the side, leaning against a railing with a pretzel in one hand, watching the chaos unfold. He tears off a bite, salt crystals clinging to his fingers, a half-smile tugging at his lips like he’s in on some private joke.

And then there’s Jason and Chrissy—tucked away on a bench under the glow of a carousel, hands intertwined, shoulders pressed together. She’s still clutching the giant Hello Kitty, and he’s watching her more than the crowd, soaking up every second.

The night hums with laughter, flashing lights, and the feeling that, for now at least, everything is perfect. The bar crawl turns into a blur—shots lined up, beers chugged, cocktails spilling onto sticky tables. By the time the group stumbles back to the beach house, you’re all laughing too loud, shoes in your hands, practically tripping over one another.

Billy and Steve peel off immediately, deciding greasy food is the cure, swearing they’ll find any place still open.

Upstairs, the shower hums as Nancy claims the bathroom, steam curling under the door. Downstairs, you and Robin collapse onto the living room couch, giggling over inside jokes you’ve already made in less than a day.

Eddie lingers near the stairs, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly debating whether to crash early. But then—

“Psst.”

He turns. Chrissy is leaning against her bedroom doorframe, oversized tee hanging loose off her shoulder, the giant Hello Kitty plush tossed carelessly on her bed behind her. She crooks a finger at him.

Eddie hesitates, then steps closer. “What’s up?”

Before he can say another word, Chrissy grabs him by the collar and presses her mouth to his. He stiffens, pulling back just enough to mutter, “Woah, sweetheart. Pretty sure Jason’s not gonna be thrilled if he finds out I’m kissing on his girl.”

Chrissy smirks, eyes gleaming. “Who cares? He’s not my boyfriend anyway.” Her hands are already tugging him into the room, door clicking shut behind them.

They collapse onto the bed, mouths colliding again. Chrissy climbs onto him, fingers bold as they trail down, palming him through his jeans. Eddie groans, hands gripping her waist, the thin line of hesitation melting under the weight of the moment.

<Confessionals: Chrissy>

Chrissy bursts out laughing, hiding her face behind her hands before peeking out with a grin. “Okay, okay, it looks bad, I know.” She rolls her eyes, cheeks flushed. “But Eddie? He’s just… beep hot.” She giggles again, burying her face in her hands like she can’t believe she said it.

Jason comes in through the back door, brushing sand off his shoes, half-expecting Chrissy to be waiting up for him. He moves toward her room, pausing when he hears a muffled laugh. A man’s laugh. His brow furrows. He pushes the door open a crack—

Chrissy is tangled up with Eddie on her bed, her hands roaming over his chest, their mouths locked. For a split second, Jason can’t breathe. The room tilts. Then his vision narrows to red.

“What the bleep is this?!”

The words rip out of him, loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the wall. Chrissy jerks back, eyes wide, scrambling upright. Eddie sits up slowly, jaw tight but not apologetic.

“Jason—” Chrissy starts, her voice high and shaky.

“You shut up!” he roars, stepping into the room. His fists clench, his whole body vibrating with rage. “You’re seriously hooking up with him?!”

At this point, you and Robin hear the commotion and launch off the couch toward Chrissy’s room. Eddie swings his legs off the bed, standing his ground. “Relax, man. You don’t have to talk to her like that.”

Jason snaps, his voice cracking with fury. “Shut the bleep up, you bleep freak! I ain’t talking to you!”

Eddie steps forward, eyes narrowing. “You’re talking around me—that’s the same bleep thing!”

Robin shoves past Jason, spreading her arms across the doorway, palms out like a human barricade. “Stop—just stop!” she pleads, her voice trembling. You grab at Jason’s arm, trying to drag him back, but his muscles are coiled tight, every step heavier than yours.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve hitting on my girl,” Jason spits over Robin’s shoulder, “when there’s plenty of bleep out there!”

“Jason, just let it go!” you plead, heels digging into the tile as he jerks forward.

Eddie leans around Robin, eyes blazing. “Come do it then, bleep! Bleep do it!”

“Stop—stop! Stop!” Chrissy’s voice pierces the chaos, sharp and shaking, but it barely cuts through the roar of bodies colliding.

Luckily, Steve and Billy barrel through the front door just in time, the smell of greasy takeout trailing behind them. They drop the bags without a thought, rushing straight into the hallway where Jason and Eddie are tangled in a blur of fists and curses. It takes all their strength—Steve grabbing Jason around the chest, Billy yanking Eddie by the shoulders—to finally rip them apart.

Both boys thrash against their hold for a moment longer, breath ragged, faces blazing red, until exhaustion wins out.

The beach house falls into a heavy silence, broken only by labored breathing. Nancy stands frozen at the top of the stairs, dripping water and wrapped in nothing but a towel, her wide eyes darting between the two bloodied boys.

You and Robin slump against the wall, lungs burning, sweat prickling your skin. The adrenaline makes your hands tremble, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

On the other side of the room, Chrissy sinks to her knees, her sobs muffled against the giant Hello Kitty plush clutched tight to her chest.

Eddie finally breaks the silence. He slumps down onto the couch, tilting his head back against the cushion, a crooked grin splitting his swollen lip. He drags the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood across his chin, then lets out a low, humorless chuckle.

“This,” he mutters, spitting a trace of red onto the floor, “is gonna be an interesting summer.”