Harmony amidst Chaos | A Jori story

Family dinner

-JADE'S POV-

I slam my phone down on the nightstand, my frustration bubbling over, and  start pacing around my room, feeling trapped.

Why did I even call her?! What was I thinking?

They don't get it—neither Beck, Tori, nor anybody else. Nobody gets it.

But then again, how could they, if I don't tell anybody?

I stop pacing and look at myself in the mirror. My own reflection stares back at me, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. They could see this too right? If they looked a little closer?

I feel alone and scared, as always. But it has always been easier to lash out than to admit I'm feeling scared and lost. Scared of losing Beck, scared of being vulnerable, scared of not being enough.

But how could I explain that to people? They wouldn't understand. They see the tough, sarcastic exterior and assume that's all there is to me.

I sit down on my bed, grab a pillow and squeeze it tightly. The anger is still there, but it's mixed with sadness. A sadness that maybe Vega's right. That I really am pushing people away, the opposite of what I actually need to do.

I feel a prickle behind my eyes, and a lump is forming in my throat, but I force it back. Tears are a sign of weakness, and I can't afford to be weak. No. I can't be like that. I have to stay strong, stay angry. Angry is easy, easier than admitting I might be wrong. Admitting that I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life by breaking up with Beck.

I throw the pillow back onto the bed and get up, grabbing my notebook out of my bag. It's still damp from the water. I flip through the pages, my scribbled notes and sketches smudged and ruined. Great, another thing Vega managed to fuck up for me.

I lay the notebook open on my desk, hoping it might dry enough for me to still use it. Then I grab a fresh notebook and start doing the one thing that always calms me down: writing. At first, it's just my scattered thoughts, but soon they take on a more poetic form. Before I know it, I'm writing lyrics.

Time seems to stop, and I can almost hear the melody of the song already forming in my mind.

Just as I get into the flow, my father bursts through the door. "Jadelyn, put that useless book away and get ready. We have a dinner with some of my most important clients tonight." he says in his usual, no-nonsense tone.

I look at him blankly. "Nice of you to show up here, you seem familiar. Who are you again?" I say sarcastically.

His eyes narrow in the same way mine do. "Cut the attitude young lady. This is important for our image. Your mother is already preparing the dinner, and I expect you to be presentable and well-behaved. And how many times do I have to tell you? Get that jewelry out of your face!"

I glare back at him, feeling my anger rise again. "My piercing stays. If your precious clients can't handle it, that's their problem, not mine."

"Jadelyn." he warns, his voice growing colder. "You are not a child anymore. It's time you start acting like an adult. This is not up for discussion. Be ready in thirty minutes."

"An adult? You mean like you? Always gone, never around, and when you are, you only show up to critique everything I do?" I snap.

His face hardens. "Enough!" he roars. "You are getting ready now and you will act appropriately the whole evening. End of discussion!"

I glare at him. "Fine." I say through gritted teeth.

He slams my bedroom door closed again, the sound echoing down the hall. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Then I yank open my closet and start pulling out an outfit that might be deemed acceptable by my father's standards. A sleek, black dress that I've worn a hundred times, just for these kinds of occasions. I quickly put it on.