c h a p t e r. 17

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"Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know--because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand." ― F. Scott Fitzgerald

chapter 17

Jazz knows that Castor has friends-- has people outside of just him and his family-- to rely on.

Honestly, he does.

He knows that the Castor is an amazing person-- God, star, whatever-- and that he was likeable underneath his almost constant 'I hate existence and people' glare that he wore whenever he wasn't looking at the musician and he was interesting and talented and cute and--

Okay. Yeah. He was just amazing.

He has friends.

Jazz didn't know one of his friends would be a 6'2, blonde haired, blue eyes muscular dude who looked like he never stops moving for anything or anyone and who looked like literal silver when he spoke.

But now he certainly knew, because that very friend shouted, "Oi, Cassie!" across the street from where the everyone (and now Ahmik, too) were walking towards the club on the sidewalk.

Then this almost-glowing man just fucking darts through the traffic earning himself getting honked at just to reach Castor.

"You're in party gear?" The man grinned widely in all pot pans and christmas tinsel, silver bouncy and unkept. "Can I come?"

Then he knows an arm around the celestial who doesn't even care-- the same celestial who hates human contact, who hates almost everyone, who literally glares at his own twin herself when she touches him without warning.

Ah, Jazz can't help but to frown as Cas' attention is completely caught away. They definitely care about each other.

"We're going to a club," The celestial informs. "I can't stop you even if I wanted to but hey, at least this will be the first party in three years where you actually look good. By good I mean not wearing grass stained sweatpants, crocs and no shirt."

He's seen him shirtless.

Jazz didn't know how to feel about that.

"If I look good by your standards I must be doing something right." The dude just shrugs and ruffles the celestial's hair. That and the semi-flirty comment alone makes the musician want to go, no touching, he's mine! But that obviously wouldn't be appropriate since these two were obviously friends and good ones by how comfortable they act.

"Fly," Castor smacks him in the gut-- Jazz doesn't know if it's his name or an insult but he's leaning towards it being his name. "You're living up to your name."

He was right.

"Thanks!" Fly-- what kind of parents named him that?-- chirped.

"I've told you already," Cas smirked. "It's not a compliment."

"Awh," He pouts back, making Jazz want to pout because well, he wanted Cas' attention. Jeez, he was turning into an attention-whore. Or at least one for Cas. "But you said when I get to the big leads it's gonna mean something good."

Scoffing, Castor pretends to gag while looking at the blondie, "I said if, not when. Either way, you're not there yet."

"You're so mean Cassie, no wonder--" Fly shakes his head, then cuts himself as he spots the girls and Max not too far off. "Hey! Is that Cece and Nerdy?"

Him and Noelle do a whole pointing thing, nicknames and all while Circe laughs.

Ah. Good-good friends. Family-knowing friends.

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