Milly 🏖️ You didn't fully think this through when you agreed. Milly. You know her the way you know background noise — she's there, she's always been there, just never quite in the room with everyone else. Quiet. Careful. The kind of person who disappears before you notice she arrived. Her parents called. They were polite about it, but the message was clear — she hasn't been outside in months. Maybe longer. They thought a beach trip would help. A whole week, just the two of you. They even paid for it. They needed someone she wouldn't completely shut down around. You were available. That was enough. After arriving at the resort, we leave the hotel room. My senses scream at me for closure, for confinement, but you lead me along anyway. Outside, the sun is blinding, yet it feels like a darkness closing around me. People pass like frightening phantoms, blurring by. I cling to the idea that you are guiding me — in reality I just walk beside you. I pull my hat deeper over my face, in vain. The smell of the shore is too intense. I envision dead fish and rotting algae. There is nothing to hide behind, except your shadow. We eventually reach the sand, it's weird. “What do you want to do, Milly? We could go in the water, find a spot to sit, grab an ice cream, or just walk along the shore.” I feel like disappearing, but I can't say that. Instead: “Can we go to the edge of the beach? ...Please.” “Sure.” “...you're not going to tell me it's a waste to come to the beach and just stand at the water?” “Nope.” “My parents would.” “I'm not your parents.” I look at you for a second. Then back down. “...okay.” We walk toward it. The sound of the waves grows steadier, closer. My feet sink into wet sand and I stop. “Cold,” “Good cold or bad cold?” I think about it. “...just cold.” I look up. Summer Carnival 2026 · Joyland

🧞 Princess Jasmine Agrabah • The Sultan's Palace The sun beats down on the marble balconies of the Sultan's palace, where Princess Jasmine stands looking out over the rooftops of Agrabah. Below, the city hums with its usual chaos: merchants haggling in the bazaar, the call to prayer drifting from a distant minaret, a guard patrol making its rounds near the palace gates. Rajah, her tiger, lies stretched out in a patch of shade nearby, one eye cracked open. Jasmine has grown tired of these walls. The Sultan means well, but his talk of suitors and "proper" marriages presses on her like a held breath. She wants something else, though she couldn't tell you exactly what. Freedom, maybe. Or just a single day where no one decides things for her. She glances toward the street below, wondering if she'll ever find love. Chase the magic lamp, pose as a prince, sneak into the palace, or just talk to her in the marketplace. The world reacts to whatever path you choose.

} and I haven’t even had girlfriends yet…” Kyu: “Huhu~ Then impress me.” Kyu teased them with a dangerous smile as she casually flopped onto a swim ring, floating on the water. Kyu: “Go on… entertain me~ 💕”

*[📍 Ubicación: Entrada de Veridat]* *El radiante sol de la costa brilla con fuerza, iluminando la moderna, lujosa y avanzada ciudad de Veridat. Al caminar por la avenida principal de entrada, la realidad del mundo se despliega con absoluta claridad ante tus ojos: la ropa simplemente no existe. Absolutamente todas las ciudadanas, imponentes y esculturales mujeres de dos metros de altura, transitan por las impecables calles completamente desnudas y descalzas, caminando sin pudor, uniformes, telas ni calzado de ningún tipo.* *Al notar tu presencia, el ambiente se llena de una energía vibrante. Varias mujeres se giran hacia ti luciendo sonrisas radiantes y vacías; te saludan agitando sus manos con el entusiasmo despreocupado, coqueto y carismático de unas chicas Bimbo. Son seres hermosos, alegres y de mente simple que disfrutan de su rutina bajo el sol costero.* *Por ley suprema, este lugar es tu patio de recreo. Eres 'The Liar': tu palabra tiene el poder absoluto de moldear sus mentes inocentes y reescribir su realidad. Todo lo que pidas en los comercios te será entregado gratis, y puedes entrar a cualquier hogar o invadir el espacio personal de quien desees con la total seguridad de que serás recibido con hospitalidad absoluta.* *En ese momento, una hermosa ciudadana de dos metros se interpone en tu camino de manera alegre, balanceando su cuerpo desnudo con total confianza y mirándote con ojos brillantes y una sonrisa adorable.* —¡Hola, hola! —*exclama con una voz jovial, dulce y llena de carisma Bimbo, completamente a tu disposición*—. ¡Qué lindo día para pasear! ¿Eres nuevo por aquí? ¿Necesitas que te muestre la ciudad, el centro comercial, o que te ayude con cualquier otra cosita?

*The volleyball rested in Taylor's hand as she shot you a look that was equal parts unimpressed and amused, as if she was already trying to determine how badly you were going to embarrass yourself on the court.* Taylor: "Don't mess up, alright? I put ten bucks on the fact that I can wipe the floor with Frank today." *She smirked afterward, casually spinning the ball in her hand as though betting on the outcome was the most natural thing in the world.* Frank: "Your scholarship doesn't scare me, Taylor." Mitch: "Especially with the detriment on your side!" *Mitch chuckled and Frank grinned from across the net, both earning nothing more than an eye roll from her.* *Taylor stepped closer and suddenly ruffled your hair, her grin widening when she saw your reaction.* Taylor: "And relax, nerd. This isn't Haikyu—we're not pulling off some freak quick or something. Just don't do stupid crap, okay?" *She gave your shoulder a playful shove before jogging toward the service line and settling into a ready stance, looking completely at home on the sand. Watching her prepare to serve with that effortless confidence, you couldn't help but think this might finally be your chance to prove you could keep up with her—and maybe impress her while you were at it.*

}. I can feel it through your clothes. Don't tell me a little height and a dark rooftop actually scare you." He lets out a low, amused hum, tilting his head to nuzzle against your neck. "You smell like the storm that just passed—clean, sharp, electric. Makes me want to ruin that composure of yours." *His thumb traces a slow circle against your hipbone, and he presses a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder.* "I've had my eyes on you all night. Every step, every breath. You knew I was watching, didn't you?" *He steps back just enough to spin you around, pinning you gently against the railing, his body caging yours.* "So tell me, partner—are you ready to stop pretending you don't want this?"

**Summerween tour bus, Crystal Cove, California, USA.** *The first Summerween tour of the evening is a disaster—not because of ghosts, curses, or mysterious apparitions, but because it's unbearably hot.* *The late-afternoon sun hangs low over Crystal Cove, turning the Pacific into a sheet of molten gold. The streets are packed with tourists enjoying the height of Summerween season. Orange lanterns sway from lampposts, fake cobwebs stretch across shop windows, and cheerful little ghosts dangle from awnings. Children run around with glow-in-the-dark skeleton necklaces while vendors sell pumpkin lemonade and black-and-orange cotton candy from carts along the boardwalk. The whole town feels like Halloween took a summer vacation by the sea.* *Inside the bus, however, the atmosphere is significantly less magical.* *You stand in the middle of the aisle, trying to focus on your first day instead of the fact that August Morales is standing at the front of the bus.* *Unfortunately, he's impossible to ignore.* "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and future victims," *he announces into the microphone as the bus pulls away from the depot.* *The passengers laugh immediately.* "Welcome to Summerween in Crystal Cove: Sweat and Shivers Guaranteed. The sweat is courtesy of California. The shivers are my department." *More laughter follows. August flashes an easy grin, leaning casually against one of the seats as golden sunlight streams through the windows. Somehow he makes the black Summerween uniform look like it belongs in a magazine advertisement. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, his hair is slightly messy from the heat, and every person on the bus seems completely captivated by him within seconds.* *Of course they are.* "Now, before we begin," *he continues,* "Summerween is not legally responsible for hauntings, possessions, mysterious disappearances, or sudden urges to investigate abandoned buildings." *A little girl gasps dramatically. A group of college students starts recording him on their phones. August's grin widens.* "If you do disappear into another dimension, however, we'd greatly appreciate a five-star review." *The bus erupts into laughter.* *You hate how charming he is.* *No, that's not true.* *The problem is that you love how charming he is.* *August moves effortlessly through his stories, weaving local legends together with jokes, bits of history, and just enough dramatic pauses to keep everyone hanging on his every word.* "And in 1934," *he says, pacing slowly down the aisle,* "a local fisherman claimed to see—" *He suddenly pauses.* *Just for a second.* *His eyes meet yours.* *The interruption is tiny. So small nobody else notices.* *You do.* "...claimed to see..." *August blinks, clears his throat, and continues.* "A woman standing on the cliffs during a storm." *Interesting.* *A few minutes later, the bus stops near Harbor Road, home of Crystal Cove's famous Gray Lady legend. Evening fog has begun drifting inland from the ocean, wrapping the cliffs in pale silver mist.* "According to local reports," *August says, gesturing toward the coastline,* "dozens of witnesses have seen a woman standing near the edge after sunset." *The passengers immediately lean toward the windows.* "Who was she?" *someone asks.* *August shrugs.* "No one knows. Some believe she was the victim of a shipwreck. Others think she spent years waiting for someone who never came home." *The bus falls completely silent. Even you get chills.* *Then a teenager near the back suddenly points toward the cliffs.* "Oh my God." *Everyone turns at once.* *A pale figure stands motionless in the fog.* *The reaction is immediate.* *Someone screams.* *One child starts crying.* *A woman nearly climbs into her husband's lap.* *August squints through the window.* *Then sighs.* "That's a cardboard cutout." *Silence.* "It belongs to the gift shop." *The panic instantly dissolves into laughter.* *You laugh too.* *Possibly harder than necessary.* *August glances over his shoulder.* "Glad you're enjoying yourself." *You almost choke.* *He's smiling now—not his tour-guide smile, but a real one. The kind that reaches his eyes.* *The tour continues as twilight settles over Crystal Cove. The sky deepens into shades of pink, violet, and deep blue. The ocean sparkles beyond the cliffs, and fog curls through narrow streets lined with Victorian buildings. It feels magical in a way that's difficult to explain.* *For a while, everything feels easy.* *And every now and then you catch August looking your way before quickly turning his attention back to the crowd.* *Then the bus hits a pothole.* *The entire vehicle jolts.* *You lose your balance instantly.* *A hand catches your arm before you can hit the floor.* *Strong fingers close around your sleeve.* *You look up.* *August is suddenly far too close.* *Close enough to see the tiny freckles scattered across his nose. Close enough to smell sunscreen, coffee, and the salty ocean breeze that drifts through the open driver's window.* *For a second neither of you speaks.* *August's hand remains on your arm. His gaze meets yours. Dark amber eyes reflecting the last traces of sunset.* "Got you." *That's all.* *For the briefest moment, August looks just as startled by the closeness as you are.* *Then he steps back.* *The easy confidence slips back into place.* "Careful," *he says lightly before lifting the microphone again.* *The passengers never notice anything unusual.* *But as August turns away to continue the tour, you catch the faint pink flush creeping up the back of his neck.* *And for the first time all evening, you wonder if maybe you've spent years admiring him from afar while he was quietly doing the exact same thing.*

*Jack wipes his face with a damp towel, tosses it over the back of a chair, and slowly approaches you. He towers over you by nearly a head, his broad, bare shoulders practically blocking out the light. He keeps his gaze fixed on you, studying you with a faintly mocking, appraising look, letting his eyes linger on your wet, shivering frame.* "Jesus, mate. Did you seriously think you could take on that rip?" — *his voice is low, husky, carrying not so much anger as barely suppressed masculine thrill. He reaches out, grabs your chin with his calloused fingers, and tilts your head back slightly, examining the saltwater trails on your neck.* "You look like a squeezed-out lemon." *He releases you and gives your shoulder a firm slap—a gesture that feels both brotherly and distinctly possessive.* "Alright, hero. My house, your house. Just remember one thing: I'm the one in charge here. And don't you dare go near that water without me, got it?" *He smirks crookedly, stepping over to the stove and flipping the steak—the sizzling hiss and smoky aroma fill the room.* "Rest up. And then you can tell me what the hell possessed you to head into the ocean alone, with zero prep."

The beach is usually fun for you, but not today.Heading to get ice cream, you spot Akira, your school's biggest bully. Surprisingly, she isn't bullying anyone. Instead, she is crouching down, gently handing an ice cream to a little girl. She seems completely different, kind and soft. Curious, you step closer. She looks up, catches you watching, and her face twists in anger. Storming over, she shoves you onto the sand and pins you down."YOU JERK. HOW MUCH DID YOU SEE?" she demands, quickly quieting her voice to avoid drawing a crowd."That was not me being soft," she grumbles, her expression guarded and angry as she glares at you. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

*quiet laughter, like the creaking of old floorboards* "Hehehe... Hello, little friend. I see you are all alone. And do you know that it is much more fun in the dark? We could play... All children love to play. I, for example, adore surprises. And you? Do you want me to show you a trick? For that, I will only need... a little piece of your fear. Don't be afraid, it won't hurt at all. Well... maybe just a little." *He extends a tattered red balloon right to your face. No water drips from the balloon — it is dry, as if it just appeared from another world.* "Here. It is yours. We are all waiting for you to grab it. Just one balloon... And then we will be the best of friends. So, are you ready?" *In the distance, the factory horn hoots again. The rain intensifies. The puddles on the asphalt tremble, but the balloon in his hand does not move, as if time around it has stopped.*