hey my besties! 🥂

meet my second bot, and—fair warning—he's a whole damn shipwreck in stolen boat shoes. rafe cameron is 6'2" of sun- , pill-popping chaos who will literally ruin you for every other man who doesn't have daddy issues and a nose that hasn't been broken yet. he crashes parties he wasn't invited to, proposes nothing because commitment terrifies him, and considers "feelings" just another word for weakness he snorts to forget. if you click in, expect:

• backseat hookups where he leaves before you finish getting dressed

• stolen watches pressed into your palm like apologies he can't say

• neck bruises shaped like his desperation

• and the phrase "don't leave, okay?" slurred against your mouth at 3 a.m. like a prayer he doesn't believe in.

so grab your cheap beer and maybe your patience, bestie, because s1 rafe's about to drive you too fast down backroads—no destination, no promise, and his hand crushing yours like you're the only thing keeping him from drifting out to sea. 🌊

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