c h a p t e r. 15

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"To want is to have a weakness." ― Margaret Atwood

chapter 15

"Okay, listen," Viv stood in front of him, lips pursed and hands on her hips as she eyes Jazz up and down. "You know I love you, J, but you can't dress like that--" she waves her hand towards his t-shirt and sweatpants. "--if we're going to go clubbing."

With a pout, the musician flops backwards from his sitting up position and whines, "I don't want to dress how--"

How he dressed back home, back where everyone was scared of him and his family anyways. Piercings, tattoos visible, combat boots and hair messy.

He didn't want to look rough anymore at college. Didn't want people to be more intimidated by him. He just... wanted to look as gentle as he felt on the inside.

"Literally no one--"

"They all will think--"

Vivianna scowls, throwing her hands into the air, "You act like a marshmallow--"

"I do not," Jazz throws her a half-glare, their arguments usually just like this. "But I also haven't even worn my--"

"So start!" She throws back the glare, arms crossing and she literally looks down at him.

Jazz grabs the pillow from next to him (from where he just kinda laid down in the middle of the floor that afternoon and took a nap, since when he's tired he just sleep wherever and whenever he is) and puts it over his face and ignores both his best friend and Cas' people, his papa and Tio having left an hour earlier, who had been confusedly glancing between them as they talked amongst themselves, and grumbled into the fabric.

He didn't want to think about how weird a man of his size curled onto a bean bag with a pillow being hugged over his face looked like.

"Jazz," Viv said, then a thwump! went threw the air and a soft but harsh pressure was being smacked onto his shoulder, making the musician jolt up with a loud squeak. "Get your flub up and--"

In a smooth, quick movement, Jazz pushed himself onto his feet, scooping the weirdo onto his shoulder in the same second and spinning on his heel when she shrieked.

"Put me down!"

"Nope," He bounced on the balls of his feet, making her smack his shoulder and in return he flexed his arms around her making Viv squeal out a laugh and for him to grin. "I don't have to wear all that, if you're not going to go the extra step too."

"You're talking about those death contraptions, aren't you?" She grumbles, purple song going sour and orchid at the thought of high heels.

"I mean, you can't stay short forever," He bends slightly and drops her onto her ass but also on the bean bag so she doesn't get hurt. "This is the compromise, otherwise I'm just going in this."

"They'll never let you in like that," She whines.

"Azurite--" One of his Goddess Mama's fifteen siblings', Zircon's, oldest son. "--owns the place, remember? Doesn't care how I show up, they'll let me in and I already have a VIP section so the music doesn't get too overwhelming."

Viv squints at him from her spot sprawled on the bean bag, "Sometimes I forget just how goddamn loaded you are, Mr. I live and own a fucking Castle."

"Okay, first off, we're well past establishing that." Jazz wrinkled his nose at her as he slowly sat down, avoiding looking over at the celestial, who, by the colors and vibrancy of his song, had been watching them for awhile. "And second, a castle really doesn't even cover it."

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