Il libro di Jaylos

Carlos always calms him

taken from: bunny-lou on tumblr
-
One moment, he's passing the ball to Chad, the student section is screaming, he's running full speed for the goal and protecting Ben from a member of the opposing team and Jay has never felt such excitement, such a rush and euphoria.
The next, there's a sharp pain in his scalp, his head is forced backwards and Jay belatedly realizes some asshole has grabbed his hair - even pulled back in a ponytail, several inches fall out of the helmet - and yanked him away so that Ben would be defenseless and open to attack. Jay falls backwards, lands painfully on his ass and can't find the will to get back up.
There's no green grass beneath his feet, no clear skies above his head. There is dirt and grime and smog and people shouting obscenities. He is outside of his father's shop and Jafar has a fist full of his hair, forces Jay to his knees, while his free hand is waving about. Words like useless and disgraceful are thrown about.
When Jay reaches behind him, grabs his father's hand and tries to pry gritty fingers from his hair, Jafar hits him. The man gets low enough to scream in his son's face, he can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the anger in the vibrating noise. Jay is a bastard, unworthy of the life his father has given him, cheap and pathetic and weak. He can't run, can't even move because the hand in his hair is so tight, so unforgiving, that he can't stand or even turn away.
Jafar's raging voice is mixed with people calling his name - Ben, their coach, the referee - but by the time Jay realizes he is running, he's already off the field.
He shucks his helmet off, throws it to the ground and keeps running until the erratic beating of his heart is from his feet hitting the cement and not Jafar hitting him.
When he stops, Jay crashes into a wall, drops to his knees. His blood is thrumming and his chest aches, but there is distance between himself and his nightmare.
It is silent for all of 10 seconds before someone is calling his name again. But it's not Jafar, it's not their coach. It's Carlos, speeding toward him like he's 14 again and totally convinced rabid dogs are on his heels. He slides to a stop, grabs Jay's hand and tugs him up.
"Jay, get up. We'll talk in a minute, but you can't sit. If you stop when your heart rate is too high, your heart can stop," Carlos speaks rapidly, his voice dying half way through, and gasps at the end. "Please, you were running so fast, Jay. You gotta get up." He pulls weakly at Jay, struggling to stand even on his own
He could so easily say no. Pull Carlos down to the ground with him, it would hardly take any effort.
But it's Carlos, who has more freckles on his nose and chin than there are stars in the sky, whose nails are chipped and broken from his latest invention, who is putting Jay's well being before his own, even as it takes every last bit of his strength.
His heart hurts and his chest feels too tight, but Jay follows the pull, rises with Carlos as he gratefully sighs.
"C'mon, we'll walk around the school. I'm the only one who left the game, no one else is here." He pulls Jay along, toward the sidewalk. "I'll listen...if you wanna talk." Then he falls silent, still breathing heavily and walking aimlessly.
Jay doesn't want to talk, not one bit. He does not want to remember Jafar or the Isle or the pain. But he should, according to Auradon. He ought to talk and express his feelings because the only way to truly heal is to open up for every past hurt and pour them out. That's what Fairy Godmother says anyway.
"Some asshole pulled my hair."
"And you just...got mad at him?"
"No," but he snickers because that does sound like something he would do. "It's uh, it's what my...Jafar did. When he was unhappy with me."
"Oh," Carlos hushes, like he understand, which is so fucking stupid.
Because under that blue and yellow jersey, Carlos is hiding dozens of scars. He has knife marks and words carved into his skin, burns from being used as his mother's ashtray, welts from her nails that she kept so long just to scratch him. His ribs can still be felt through his shirt, his hips stick out like mini mountains despite the months they have been in Auradon. How long will they have to stay in Auradon, how much will he have to eat before Carlos' body no long reflects the nights and the days and the weeks of hunger and weariness?
And Jay is walking beside him, boo-hooing about having his hair pulled. He's a child, an infant, completely incapable of handling his own problems and demons. He's weak and defenseless and scared and pitiful and everything his father always said.
"Hey," Carlos grabs his wrist, pulls Jay to a stop. He reaches up to wipe at Jay's warm tears and the older boy turns away. There's still a noticeable height difference between them, plus two years. Carlos should not be comforting Jay, it ought to be the other way around. "You're...you're tearing up," he whispers even though there's no one around. "What's going on?"
"I'm a dumb ass." Jay answers.
"No you're not!" Carlos defends hotly. "Your dad sucked. Jafar sucked and he doesn't deserve to be called your dad."
"It's a stupid thing to get upset over."
"It's not." Carlos uses his thumbs to dry another stray tear that Jay didn't notice. "If he used it to hurt you, it's not stupid." He holds Jay's face, even when the other won't look at him. "You're like the strongest person I know, you can't be invincible all of the time."
Jay shakes his head and Carlos' hands fall from his face. "But he's not here and I know that. I just freaked out and bailed on a tourney game. That's so dumb."
"It's not dumb, you're not dumb!" Carlos snaps, grabs Jay's hand. "Jafar was a fuck up just like my mom. And that's okay," he threads his fingers through Jay's and smiles. "It's okay. Because you turned out awesome and amazing. But he still did shitty things. And you always tell me that I didn't deserve the shit my mother did, the same goes for you. You have every right to be hurt by that because you did not deserve it," he squeezes Jay's hand. "You are allowed to be upset. Do you understand that?"
"Yeah," Jay answers softly. "I get it."
"It'll take some time and some pain, but we're both going to be okay."
"Okay."
Carlos exhales slowly. "Let's go back to the dorm. We'll watch some stupid movie and just chill together?" He already knows how the afternoon will be spent: Carlos pressed against Jay's back, peppering his shoulders with kisses and whispering all the many, many things he loves about Jay into his ear.
"What about the game?"
"Forget it, we're already winning."
"What about the cheer team?"
"They can live without me for the last half hour."
"Mal and Evie?"
"I'll text them right now."
Jay chuckles, runs a tired hand over his face. "Okay. Let's go." He holds out his hand for Carlos, who takes it and leads them home.