Chapter Text
Jaffar's room was surprisingly neat for a teenager. Rush and Styx band posters covered his dark blue walls. His desk held a drum practice pad, some school books, and a neatly folded black hoodie next to a pair of jeans. The room's order contrasted sharply with the chaotic lump under the messy sheets on the bed. Suddenly, "Renegade" by Styx blasted from his phone alarm, making the lump stir. The familiar guitar intro filled the room, growing louder as the vocals kicked in.
"Oh, mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law..."
A muffled groan emerged from beneath the covers as the music continued. The sheets twisted as the occupant rolled over, trying to escape both consciousness and the blaring alarm.
"Hangman is comin' down from the gallows and I don't have very long..."
The pile of blankets shifted more violently now, revealing a glimpse of dark red hair before disappearing again. The song had reached its most intense part, drums pounding through the phone's tiny speakers.
"The jig is up, the news is out, they've finally found me..."
A hand finally shot out from under the covers, fumbling blindly across the nightstand for the source of the music. Fingers knocked a pair of headphones tumbling to the floor before finally locating the phone.
"The renegade who had it made retrieved for a bounty..."
Jaffar groaned, finally silencing the music. He sat up, his short, messy dark red hair even spikier than usual. His crimson eyes squinted at the phone's screen.
"Sunday?" he mumbled, realizing he'd forgotten to turn off his weekday alarm.
The irritated drummer flopped back down, pulling the blanket over his head. He was still wiped after last night's performance for Elibe HIgh's Battle of the Bands, and there was nothing he wanted more at the moment than to get more sleep.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
He stared at the ceiling, fully awake now.
"Great," he muttered, swinging his legs over the bed's edge. At fifteen, Jaffar was still shorter than most guys in his grade, something Matthew never let him forget. He trudged to his window, pushing aside the curtain and flinching as the cheery light hit his eyes.
Sunday morning. The whole day stretched before him with nothing to do. No school. No band practice. Jaffar turned from the window, reaching for his headphones before realizing he'd knocked them onto the floor. A quick search produced the device somehow halfway under his warzone of a bed. He hit shuffle on his playlist and cranked up the volume. If he was going to be awake, at least he'd have good music. His phone buzzed. Jaffar glanced down, seeing the Thevz group chat still active from last night's celebration. He scrolled through the messages, The Police's "King of Pain" now playing through his personal bubble of music.
Yesterday, 1:05 AM
Legault: I SWEAR THIS WAS THE BEST PERFORMANCE OF MY ENTIRE CAREER
Elle: your "entire career" is like 12 years lol
Matthew: Elle, be nice to the elderly
Legault: Hey, I'm not that old, you try starting the piano at four
Elle: sorry grandpa
*4 Deleted Messages*
Heath: Guys, can we just appreciate that we killed it?
Jaffar had only chimed in with a simple "yeah, good job" before muting his notifications. As he watched, a new message popped up.
Today, 6:32 AM
Legault: asjdkfghjkl4587!%#
Jaffar snorted and typed: "this is what happens when rich kids wake up before noon" The response came seconds later – a photo of what looked like a five-star breakfast. Perfectly poached eggs on toast, a side of French toast, and hash browns.
Legault: Jelusy is unbecming, jefar soem of usjust know howto live.
Jaffar rolled his eyes. A follow-up message appeared.
Legault: and fyi im barely functioning dont talk to meuntil i have caffine.
Jaffar smiled faintly as he watched more messages pop up.
Legault: i thikn m,y ssiters tok my cofee
Elle: omg go back to bed
Heath: It's 6:36 AM. Some of us have been up for like an hour.
Elle: really?
Heath: Yeah, how are you all still asleep??????
Matthew: why are we all awake on a SUNDAY
Jaffar typed: "good question" then tossed his phone on the bed. It immediately buzzed again.
Legault: founfd the coffeee. not stolen. merlinus didnt makeit yet.
Elle: breaking news: rich boy discovers that servants actually need time to do their tasks XD
Legault: elle i swear whn i'm fulyl awake i'm going to remeber this bullying
Heath: *I *when *I'm *fully *I'm *remember (Elle needed to be capitalized as well)
Legault: dont yousart 2
Jaffar watched with amusement as the chat continued.
Legault: k coffee akqquired nowi can spella nd function
Matthew: miracle of modern science
Heath: Lego, please drink your coffee faster. Your spelling is giving me a headache.
Legault: WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?
Elle: lol lego
Legault: It's LEGAULT. Not LEGO. leh-go. It's FRENCH.
Elle: lego is danish actually
Legault: I MEANT MY NAME IS FRENCH
Matthew: leg-old?
Legault: I hate all of you
Elle: Me too?
Legault: except Elle. Elle can stay.
Elle: aww thanks lego <3
Legault: I take it back.
Heath: At least people get your name right, Jeff.
Jaffar: don't call me jeff
Legault: Jeffffff
Jaffar: ...
Elle: omg we broke Jaffar!
Jaffar shook his head, reading the chaotic messages. After a moment's hesitation, he typed.
Jaffar: Hey Matthew can I come over and practice?
Matthew: DUDE IT'S SUNDAY MORNING
Legault: the machine never stops
Jaffar: I have a new song I want to learn
Legault: let me guess, another insanely hard rush one?
Jaffar: One Little Victory, just the intro.
Elle: WHY DO YOU TORTURE YOURSELF
Matthew: fine, come over at 11.
Jaffar set his phone down and headed downstairs. The kitchen was quiet except for the soft sounds of Hawkeye making coffee.
"Morning," Hawkeye said, sliding a plate of toast across the counter.
Jaffar nodded his thanks, taking a bite. They sat in comfortable silence until light footsteps announced Ninian's arrival. She floated into the kitchen in soft blue pajamas, her long hair braided loosely.
"Good morning," she smiled, pouring herself tea. "I'm going to Florina's house today to practice our routine, if that's okay?"
Hawkeye nodded. "Be back by dinner."
Ninian dropped a kiss on his cheek before gliding out. "Thanks, Dad!"
The peaceful morning shattered when a cacophony of singing erupted from upstairs.
"IT'S MY LIIIIIFE! IT'S NOW OR SOMETHIN'!" Nils' voice thundered down the hallway.
Jaffar winced as his brother tumbled into the kitchen, still belting mangled Bon Jovi lyrics.
"MY HEART IS LIKE A BROKEN HIGHWAY!" Nils sang, grabbing cereal.
"That's not how it goes," Jaffar muttered.
"You guys were awesome last night!" Nils bounced in his chair. "That guy with the green and white hair who looks like he stuck his finger in a light socket was going crazy on guitar!"
Jaffar laughed outright at the (accurate) description of Heath, then pushed his empty plate away and stood up, heading to the fridge. He opened it and just... stared, seemingly lost in thought.
"The universal teen ritual," Hawkeye commented with a smile. "Staring into the fridge like it might reveal the secrets of the universe if you look long enough."
Jaffar blinked, grabbed a container of leftover pasta, and shut the door. He didn't bother heating it up, just grabbed a fork and started eating straight from the container.
"Eww, cold spaghetti?" Nils wrinkled his nose.
Jaffar glanced at his little brother, then back at the container of cold pasta in his hands. He shrugged and stabbed his fork into the tangle of noodles.
Nils watched him with fascinated disgust. "You're so weird. Food is supposed to be hot."
"Says who?" Jaffar countered.
"Says everyone! That's why microwaves exist!"
Hawkeye chuckled, watching the exchange over his coffee mug. "Your brother marches to his own beat, Nils. In more ways than one."
"Yeah, and that beat is probably 'Cold as Ice' by Foreigner," Nils quipped.
Jaffar snorted, nearly choking on his pasta.
"What are you two up to today?" Hawkeye asked, sipping his coffee.
Nils bounced in his seat, milk splashing from his cereal bowl. "Fae's coming over! We're gonna play Pokémon Shield and I'm showing her my binder!"
"Binder?" Hawkeye raised an eyebrow.
"My LEGENDARY Pokémon card collection!" Nils threw his hands up dramatically. "It's famous in elementary school. Like, everyone knows about it!"
Jaffar snorted, taking another bite of cold pasta. "He spent his entire allowance for three months on those cards."
"Worth it!" Nils declared. "Fae's never seen a holographic Charizard before. She's gonna freak!"
Hawkeye turned to Jaffar. "And you? Drums again?"
Jaffar nodded, twirling his fork. "Going to Matthew's to practice some Rush."
"The one with the impossible drum part?" Ninian asked, smiling knowingly.
"It's not impossible," Jaffar muttered. "Just... challenging."
A few hours later Jaffar tucked his headphones around his neck, grabbed his drumsticks, and headed out. The morning air felt cool as he crossed the street to Matthew's house, twirling one stick between his fingers. Matthew's garage door was partially open. Jaffar ducked underneath, then froze at the sight before him.
Matthew was in full performance mode, belting out U2's "New Year's Day" with surprising accuracy. He had a microphone in hand and was doing an over-the-top Bono impression, complete with dramatic arm gestures.
"All is quiet on New Year's Day..." Matthew sang, strutting around the garage like he owned a stadium
Jaffar leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching with growing amusement.
Matthew jumped onto the battered couch, "I want to be with you, be with you night and day!"
He then he leapt off the couch, landing with a spin that brought him face-to-face with Jaffar.
"DUDE!" he yelped, dropping the mic. "How long have you been there?!"
"Long enough," Jaffar said, fighting back a rare smile. "Nice Bono."
Matthew's face turned bright red. "We agreed on eleven!"
"It's 10:58."
"That's..." Matthew stuttered, "that's not eleven!" he returned.
Jaffar shrugged. "Close enough."
"You could've knocked!"
"And missed the show?" Jaffar raised an eyebrow. "No way."
Matthew groaned, covering his face. If you tell anyone, I'll end you," he threatened.
Jaffar just smirked.
After awhile Matthew seemed to decide it was best to pretend like it hadn't happened and flopped onto the couch, grabbing his phone.
Jaffar moved to the drum set, adjusting the seat and picking up his sticks. Instead of diving into Rush, he started tapping out the iconic intro to U2's "Sunday Bloody Sunday," his eyes locked on Matthew with the faintest hint of a smirk.
"Come on, Bono," Jaffar said quietly, nodding toward Matthew. "Your fans are waiting."
Matthew groaned dramatically and flopped back on the couch. "Dude, not funny. I already died of embarrassment once today."
Jaffar kept the beat going, adding a few flashy fills that weren't in the original song, clearly trying to bait his friend.
"Seriously?" Matthew rolled his eyes and returned to scrolling through his phone, deliberately ignoring the taunt. "I'm not giving you the satisfaction."
Jaffar shrugged, abandoning the U2 rhythm. In seconds, he shifted gears completely, setting down the sticks and listening to Rush's "One Little Victory," one last time. His face transformed, eyes narrowed in concentration, completely in his own world. Matthew watched as Jaffar repeated the same brutal section over and over, each time stumbling at the same fill.
Twenty minutes passed.
Thirty.
An hour.
"Damn it!"
Clink!
Matthew looked up, startled. Jaffar was retrieving a drumstick from the opposite side of the room rather sheepishly.
"Too slow... always too slow."
"Hey," Matthew cut in, "ever heard of Hum?"
Jaffar blinked, pulled from his frustration. "Who?"
Matthew scrolled through his phone and hit play. "Song's called 'Stars.'"
The haunting guitar intro filled the garage, building into distorted chords and a driving rhythm section. Jaffar listened intently, his frustration melting away as he focused on the unfamiliar beat.
"This is..." he started.
"Good?" Matthew finished.
"Yeah," Jaffar looked like he was already studying the drum pattern.
"Thought you might like it," Matthew said, hiding his relief at successfully distracting his friend.
"How'd you hear of it?" asked Jaffar, still listening.
Matthew shrugged, "Socials."