c h a p t e r. 15

"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."

He came from old money.

His grandparents (who really don't deserve that title) were billionaires who divided up their wealth between their sixteen children evenly but Clementine, his mama, got the massive estate that was on the edge of his old town and the seven story castle that came along with it.

And since none of his older sister's showed a sign of interest in owning it, or the money, he'd be getting most of it even if his siblings would always have more than enough to live a comfortable life-- and even though his mama and papa had also given a good chunk of it to the D'Silvettas and the Riddles.

Alas, he was the one who had to carry on the oh-so-powerful-name of Red and Astorias.

But hey, at least it gave him a very large advantage in life.

He would never complain, but sometimes Viv's teasing got annoying.

"Whatever," She pouted, then chirped up with a laugh. "Still, though! Being able to hang out in that giant library that looked straight out of a fantasy movie was fucking awesome."

"Hmph," Jazz puffed out his cheeks, then jerked his head over to Max, who was staring at him like a fish out of water. "W-what?"

"You're like..." The redhead paused. "Super rich?"

Well. Questions like that weren't comfortable at all.

"U-urm," The musician rubbed the back of his neck. "Kind-- kind of?"

"His family owns two private islands." Viv deadpans, making most of their eyes widen and for their colors to get brighter with surprise as Jazz flushes with the admission.

He didn't like talking about this.

In his town, his family was known for being very influential, very powerful and very rich. Not only that, but because of his papa's and Tio's reputations, it just added to the fear that most of the people had surrounding them.

People weren't exactly... cold or rude to them, exactly, but most of them kept their distance. They hear the rumors and, like inevitable human nature, they let that influence their opinions without any clear proof or observations besides a random few.

Jazz rarely threw his money around or exploited his connections-- and he had a lot-- so people don't really realize that he's rich and when they do, they treat him differently. Almost everyone in his state, and even outside of the state, in different parts of his country or overseas recognize the name Astoria and know some of the history behind it.

Jazz Red's Anomaly, at the moment, is himself.

He is only human but he is also more.

He is not normal, he does not view the world in the average way and he cannot experience life in the way others do. He does not fight for love the way his family does, he does not have the same expectations out of merely existing in the same fashion his siblings do, and he does not act like he should be.

He is among them, he is loved by them, but he is not one of them.

There is no one like him. No one who can see the color green and have that feeling in the chest, the one that holds its hands around his heart and whispers, "It'll be okay."

He's an anomaly, but he's not special.

And he doesn't want to be treated like it.

He hopes, really, that Cas and his people didn't make that connection because they know his last name (his papa goes by Red, and they met him) and they know he's rich now.

"Wait," Max gaped for a second, snapping his fingers which made Jazz wince. There goes that hope. "You're-- you're an Astoria, aren't you?"

That got everyone to stop talking.

Jazz could only nod and mumble, "My mama is."

"Okay, fuckheads," Cas growls, all moss and rose leaves. "Leave him alone and go get ready."

Noelle tried to argue, "But--"

"Now," The celestial growls, and even Viv jumps up from her spot and listens-- her going to Jazz's room for her bag and everyone else scrambling to Cas' for there's.

The musician's anxiety surely didn't appreciate all the noise and colors and shapes turning into a dizzying mixa around him. Neither did his eyes, honestly, and he had to close them with a wince.

"Jitterbug?" Cas calls out, a growl to his voice but it was still gentle with concern. "Are you okay?"

"A-ah, of, of course," Jazz sat up, not quite looking at his God because he didn't know if he could read the anxiety edging his features but he'd definitely be able to see it in his eyes. "I just... I don't li-like when people, when they treat me differently b-becuase of the Astoria thing. They... they act scared. I don't want to be someone that's scary, Cas."

"You aren't," He reassures, mint overtaking his song when Jazz peaks his eyes open, taking a breath of reassurance when the space around him didn't feel so busy and didn't shake with sounds. "You're probably the least scary person I have ever met, honestly."

"R-really?" Jazz tilts his head to the side with surprise.

"Duh," Castor grins and rolls his eyes but there's something missing-- something in his song making him stop from reaching out and offering a comforting or playful touch. "You're still scared of spiders, you act like a puppy and you can't walk fifteen steps without tripping. The only thing I'm ever scared of is you hurting yourself."

The musician pouts not only because he was called a puppy but also because, for some reason, the celestial doesn't want to touch him and he was about to ask, but then Vivianna's voice was breaking through the air.

"Jazz!" She called. "Get your Latino, Italian ass in here and help me put this on. It's being as stubborn as you."

Groaning, Jazz tilts his head back in annoyance before sighing and pulling himself up into a standing positioning. Offering Castor a cute grin that showed off his dimples, he saluted him and said, "When duty calls." before quickly making his way towards his room.

He could hear the celestial grumble about something behind him, but it was covered in sunflowers and seafoam-- all good things-- so he didn't turn back and ask.

Getting in there, Jazz helped Viv fix her bra that got caught onto her crop top and having trapped her arm in an awkward position before getting dressed himself.

It wasn't long before he was stumbling into the livingroom by a shove from Vivianna, Jazz laughing at the scowl on his best friend's face, feeling the cold metal of his medusa piercing curling slightly against his cupid's bow, all of them matching-- a dark green and golden dragon designs.

His septum piercing was a simple design, though, as to not interfere with his lip piercings. Along with that, his eyebrow piercing rugged against his skin as he raised it. Both his ears were cold with the four earrings and the small golden chain changing from his helix piercing to his main lobe one.

"Get a move on, J." She tapped her heels on the floor impatiently.

Just to be a little bitch about it, Jazz dragged his combat boots slowly on the ground and snapped back, "I am moving, Viv." His snake bites felt a bit odd now as they went over his bottom lip in twin dragon's heads but they were a familiar, welcoming presence, just like his tongue piercing that clicked against the roof of his mouth.

"Jazz," The weirdo whined, pulling against his fitted wife beater and leather jacket. But, instead of making him do what she wanted, he, like the amazing best friend he was, only slumped against her playfully. "Eek! Jasper-Alaric!"

"Hey!" Now it was his turn to frown as he turned to her, mint eyes narrowed slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest, legs tensing slightly in his dark-wash jeans. "No full names, Ms. Vivianna."

"Fine." She sighed out, pointing around him.

And when Jazz tilted his head back to see what she was trying to show him, he locked eyes with the celestial, gray clashing with mint as the musician realized that not only Castor but everyone else was staring at him too.

Ah, right.

They've never seen him in his piercings or leather or fitted clothes before.

If only sweatpants were club-appropriate.

Jazz steps closer, frowning as he realizes how red the celestial was, even up to the top of his ears and the mesh shirt-- holy hell he looked really good-- allowed for him to see that he was flushing down to his neck, too.

Cupping Castor's cheek with one hand and keeping himself propped up with the older, the musician leans a bit closer and says, "You're burning up?"

"I, you-" His star squeaks, sounding breathless and his shoulders roll in a tense tic. "Can I, with your-- bit hot innit-- can I?"

Can he what?

Viv must get the idea, though, because she quietly drags everyone towards the kitchen under the premise of getting a quick snack before they go to the club.

Jazz is confused, then Castor's hand brushes against his jaw and he gets the idea-- he wants a kiss-- but what was with that hesitation of pine against the sunflowers?

Slowly, almost confusing him more, the celestial kisses him, soft and warm lips brushing against his own, pressing the piercings into his sensitive skin but the feeling was welcome.

Pulling away all too soon, Castor lightly trails his thumb across Jazz's bottom lip, tracing his snakebites and giving him a look that just screams 'this isn't fair'.

"Castor?" Jazz can't help but to ask. "Are you okay?"

"You're just--" His hands move away with a squeak and it makes the musician frowns as he notices that he's purposely not touching him.

"Did I do something?" Jazz tilts his head, watching as Castor reaches out slightly, just a turn of his hand as his colors spiked in pine before clenching and resting on his thigh. "C-can we talk about it?"

"You didn't do anything," The celestial reassured but his frown just grew, not exactly knowing what happened or believing him but now the God wasn't touching him so it must've been something.

"Come on, Jitterbug," Castor suddenly stood up and Jazz reeled back, trying not to make their heads bump together. "Let's talk."

With a nod, the musician followed him to the celestial's room.

What did he do wrong?