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Jett Blitz had experienced some bad days. Jett Blitz had day’s where he had been shot at, chased down, screamed at and even thrown through the air by a grumpy magic user. Jett Blitz had once had a day where his whole bathroom had been stained bright pink in addition to his hands, the back of his neck, and his bedsheets (worth it though). To say that Jett Blitz had had bad days was an understatement. Yet today, Jett felt like the world was ending and his body was actively trying to kill him.
When he had woken up, Jett was greeted with a dull ache in his abdomen and a growing sense of dread. Great, his period. He groaned, cursing whatever god had decided it was time for him to feel like shit. If that wasn’t a worse enough punishment, he had a lack of period products, meaning he would have to head to the store later today. No matter how much he scoured and how deep beneath his bed he dove, there was nothing in sight. Sighing, he hopped onto his phone and ordered delivery for some period products, with an additional 20 pack of chicken nuggets and a vanilla coke. Sue him, he could not be bothered to cook right now.
After 5 something minutes of doom scrolling, his food arrived with a ring of the doorbell. The smell wafted through the room, making him feel both nauseous and hungry. He plopped down onto the floor, unwrapping his food and picking at the bits before shrugging, devouring it hastily whilst barely leaving time to chew. McDonalds for breakfast was a poor choice, yet a poor choice he would dwell on later. Jett licked up the last of vanilla coke before sighing contently, grabbing at the rubbish and shoving it back in the bag. He swiped his hands on his pants, lazily ridding them of the oil and grime, before promptly climbing back into bed and passing out.
A resounding alarm ping of his phone awoke him unpleasantly. Had someone marked his phone as lost? Why was it playing the ‘find my iPhone’ alarm? The audio looped like a mosquito in his ear, Jett groaned, slapping his hand on his bedside table and fumbling around for the pesky object.
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fairplay: Yeah okay I agree. @everyone VC??
cheshirecat: Yah gimme one sec
proxy: wait im shitting rn five mins
cheshirecat: ?? wtf is ur problem im crine tmitmitmi ew
Shazam: ??? ezra bro 😭 but yeah vc works
fairplay: kkay cool. @Wildcard?
cheshirecat: hellloooooo? Jett? Anyone home?
proxy: okay im done. we can start now
Shazam: Jett’s still not on @Wildcard
cheshirecat: wait holdup ill call his phone
fairplay: ill do you one better lets see his recent activity
proxy: 😂😂😂
fairplay: the only thing he’s done today is order uber eats
cheshirecat: seriously :P
proxy: I mean im not surprised, whatd he order?
fairplay: something from mcdonalds and something from a store
Shazam: it’s not even noon yet why is he getting mcdonalds
cheshirecat: okay guys im actually getting concerned usually he’d atleast react with a thumbs down or smt
proxy: he’s not online or responded to any calls
fairplay: pinging his iphone now
Ongoing Call: 45 mins and 21 secs
Jett let out a sigh, dragging the base of his palm down his face as he rubbed his eyes, hazily reading the messages. A wave of a cramp passed through him, leaving him leant over and clutching his abdomen as he typed:
Wildcard: I awak.
There. That should be good enough.
fairplay: he lives?
cheshirecat: had us all worried for nothing 😭
proxy: Wait wait wait he just made a typo. thats NOT Jett behaviour, usually he would make fun of our typos.
cheshirecat: Wait you right. @Wildcard GET BACK HERE
fairplay: @Wildcard
Wildcard: M fineee MOM. Just not feeling well.
proxy: ouuu shi he’s actually admitting he’s sick. must be really bad
Wildcard: Ezzzrrraaaaaaaaa :((
Proxy: Jetttttttt
cheshirecat: faggots
cheshire cat unsent a message
Wildcard: ??
Shazam: y does ur frowny face have a double chin
cheshirecat: LMAO
Wildcard: Why am I friends with u guys. Why have I been placed on this god forsaken earth with this godforsaken body
fairplay: 😭Jett, u okay man? i cant tell if ur just being dramatic
Wildcard: No I am dying right now. I actually feel like death. Think, for example the state of Unc Hoods bike.
fairplay: ohh...yikes. let us know if u need anything, okay?
Wildcard: I need someone to come over
fairplay: okay I’ll see what i can do
Wildcard: No, no not u. Preferably blonde.
proxy: aww me?
Wildcard: Nah
Shazam: hes actually talking abt me. dw Jett im coming over x
proxy: UR NOT EVEN FUCKING BLONDE
Shazam: I am spiritually
proxy: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN
Wildcard: ladies, ladies, calm down. you can all get a piece of this
proxy: blocked and reported.
Shazam: nvm I didn’t even wanna come anyways
Wildcard: aughhgh sigh fine can someone pls come tho preferably with like a heating pad I feel like shit right now
proxy: tryna guilt trip me… ill be there in 10
cheshirecat: wait why do u need a heating pad for
Wildcard: dont question it
It was late in the afternoon, the room dimly lit aside from the sliver of sunlight escaping through the curtains. Jett lay face down on his bed, as if trying to suffocate himself in his pillow to relieve himself of his misery. The sound of his apartment door clicking open was paired with the quiet call of,
“Hello? Jett?”
Jett out a disgruntled sigh, “Over here.” was his muffled response into his pillow.
The weight of the bed dipped beside him; through his eyelashes he could see a sliver of bright orange to his left. A rustle of plastic could be heard as bags were dumped onto the floor.
“Dude. You do know it’s well into the afternoon, right? Have you been lying there all day?” asked Ezra, nudging him in the back.
“Hmph.” came his coherent reply, smushing his face down further into the pillow.
“Okay you big couch potato, sit your ass up.” spoke Ezra, manoeuvring a hand under his waist as he tugged the boy up with a grunt. Jett followed the warm hand with easy compliance, brain half muddled from sleep.
“Ugh, I am not paid enough for this, damn I’m not paid at all.” snorted Ezra.
In response, Jett simply let out a low moan, toppling forward and clutching his stomach as a particularly bad cramp washed over his body. He felt as if someone had reached in and was painstakingly rearranging his insides whilst dousing him in acid.
“Holy shit man!” exclaimed Ezra, quickly grabbing him by his arms and helping him back upright, “Are you okay? Are you injured? Shit, were you shot? Please tell me you weren’t shot.”
Jett shook his head, embarrassment inevitably working his way through and tinging his face pink.
“I haven’t been shot. I’m fine, just been.. off.” was his strangled reply
Ezra raised his eyebrow at him, “Doesn’t look fine.” he deadpanned “You don’t have a fever either. So, what is it? What’s wrong? Cause you honestly look like you’re dying.” pestered the blond, each sentence snarkier than the last.
“Fine!” burst Jett, voice coming out louder than expected, “Fine,” he repeated again, softer. “I’m on my period. There, you happy?” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting; which, the action most likely made him look more like a petulant child rather than irritated and ticked off. Whatever. He didn’t have the energy to be all ‘Wildcard’ today.
“Period?”
“I’m trans, asshole.” snapped Jett, but it came out half-heartedly, his weary tone weighing it down.
“Oh.” breathed Ezra, and it felt like the tension in the room was as sharp as Lian’s arrows. “Thank you for telling me. You know this doesn’t change anything, right? I don’t see you as any less of a man. And I won’t tell them team if you don’t want me to.”
Suddenly, Ezra was met with a huge armful of a 60 something kg, scruffy pink haired boy, two arms intertwined around his middle as a face was buried deep into the crook of his neck. He grimaced as he felt the sharp dig of a piercing into his collar bone, realising he was unknowingly stiff.
“Hug back you fucking twat.” came a muffled voice from inside his jacket.
He laughed, relaxing and squeezing back just as tight.
Jett pulled back, and if his voice was a little bit wet, who was going to tell? Not Ezra, that’s for sure.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked, not waiting for an answer
“I really hate this. Not feeling like a man.”
Ezra frowned, hand reaching across to take the others in his. He ran his thumb up and down the rough skin, pondering carefully before choosing his next words.
“Fuck gender dude, you are a man. No matter what stupid cycle your body goes through.”
And to his luck, Jett smiled. A soft small thing, unlike his usual ones that were wide with wild eyes and all teeth. Ezra felt his cheeks heat up. You did that! You made him smile!
“Thank you.” the pink haired boy murmured, vulnerably open in a way Ezra felt he wasn’t supposed to be seeing. The butterflies in his stomach increased tenfold, his heart beating so rapidly he was sure he was going to have a stroke and fail to form a coherent word.
By some miracle, he managed to string out, “It’s no problem.” he shrugged, trying his best to stop from physically imploding and causing every object in a 5 metre radius to float upwards.
“Hey, you wanna go play Minecraft and eat bad takeout?” he suggested, aiming to keep the tone light.
“Always.” replied Jett, smile only growing bigger.