Chapter 183 Jamzy
Chapter 183 Jamzy
Elara’s POV,
He was absolutely and hopelessly terrible. Embarrassingly terrible. Within thirty seconds, his little yellow circle had been murdered by the same ghost four times.
“That’s bullshit.” He says, glaring at the game. “It clearly cheated, or is broken.” He looks around, then whispers. “I mean, look at this place.”
I just roll my eyes.
He proceeded to lose at air hockey, basketball, Dance Dance Revolution, and a racing game.
Even a fishing simulator somehow defeated him. Each loss was met with another increasingly creative accusation.
“This machine is broken.”
Eventually we stopped in front of the claw machine.
“Asher would love one of these.”
He immediately fed coins into it.
One attempt.
Miss.
Two.
Miss.
Ten.
Miss.
Twenty.
Miss.
The attendant standing nearby was trying very hard not to smile at the amount of money Lucien kept tossing into his hands.
Greedy bastard.
My…boyfriend kept asking for more tokens.
“I almost had it. Get me more. I’ll get it this time.”
I watched another handful of coins disappear into the machine.
Then another.
Then another.
By the time he’d spent well over a hundred dollars trying to rescue a tiny plush dinosaur, I quietly wandered off.
Five minutes later—
THUMP.
Lucien looked over his shoulder just in time to receive an enormous teddy bear directly to the side of his face. He caught it instinctively.
“...How?”
I shrugged.
“There was a shooting game that required actual aiming.” He stared. “The one thing you’re genuinely good at,” I continued, “and you ignored it.”
“I like a challenge.”
“Of course, you do.” I jerk my head at the giant pink bear. “For you.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
I try very hard not to laugh at his expression. He looked down at the ridiculous teddy.
“I can’t be seen carrying this.”
“Then give her to someone.” I shrug, biting my lip. “But she’s,” I smiled, holding it toward him, “my first date gift to you.”
He looked from the bear to me, and his expression softened so completely it made my stomach flutter.
“Besides,” I said quietly, “she’s cute.”
His eyes never left mine.
“Yeah.” His eyes glistened. “She’s fucking cute."
A while later we found ourselves sitting on an old wooden bench outside. Our masks were tucked away now, and it was late enough that nobody paid us much attention.
Lucien returned carrying two corndogs; he handed one over triumphantly.
“The woman said this one would change my life. Best corndog in the community.”
“Really? Well, it’s our pleasure.” I take one with a smile. “First time trying street food and you had the best. You lucky bastard.”
We bump them together like champagne glasses.
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
Together we take our first bite, and I immediately turn to watch him. He chews, nods once, and his eyes widen.
“Oh.”
“So?”
“So damn good.”
I grinned.
“I know.”
He took another huge bite.
“I’ve been lied to my whole life.” He said, licking his lips. “I’m never eating cooked meals again.” Another huge bite. “Corndogs forever.”
~~
Ten minutes later, he was bent over a bush and violently reconsidering every life choice he'd ever made.
I laugh so hard that tears roll down my cheeks, and he groans between retches.
“...Totally worth it,” he says, stretching his thumb out, and I push it upside down.
“Aww.” I rubbed his back dramatically. “You can’t survive one little street snack?”
He dry-heaved again, and I crouched beside him, still giggling, handing him a bottle of water. When he finished, I offered him a mint, and he accepted it without looking at me.
“Needs…” he muttered after sucking on it for a second. “...a little getting used to.”
“I think that’s enough for today.”
He leaned back against the bench with a long sigh, and for a while neither of us spoke.
The night settled comfortably around us. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he said,
“I really wish I hadn’t walked away that day.”
“What day?”
“The day we first met.” I looked over, and his eyes stayed fixed on the stars. “I would’ve married you at once.”
Something tightened painfully in my chest.
“No.” I smiled sadly. “You would’ve hated me.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t even think about it. “And I’d have loved you all over again.”
~~
We’re getting ready to leave when Lucien excuses himself and returns five minutes later with a man in his late twenties by the collar of his jacket. The poor man looks like he’s aged twenty years in those five minutes alone. His expensive camera dangles limply from one shoulder, and his face has gone so pale I’m briefly worried he’ll faint soon.
“Darling,” Lucien says pleasantly, as though he’s introducing me to an old university friend instead of dragging a stranger through a park. “I’d love you to meet Jazmy.”
The man’s smile trembles.
“He’s a photographer!” Lucien says excitedly, and his hand tightens on his shoulder. “...Working for who again?”
“I’m freelance!” the man blurts out. “I work alone!”
“He works alone,” Lucien repeats with a grin, and I narrow my eyes immediately.
“He’s paparazzi,” I say, with a hitch in my breath. “Where’s your mask?”
“I took it off.” He works his jaw. “Seriously, I needed fresh air.”
I stare at him in disbelief.
“You let the paparazzi see your face?” I look around. “How many more could be around?”
He looks almost offended.
“Darling.” He gestures over himself. “I was born observant. How do you think I noticed Jaz here?” He gestures toward Jazmy. “Besides, Jaz swore on his mother’s grave he hasn’t sent or even taken a single picture anywhere. Believe me, I checked.” He turns to Jazmy. “Oh yeah, I owe you a new phone.”
Jazmy nods so violently I hear something crack in his neck.
“I swear! I only got suspicious because you both kept the masks on! I thought maybe you were celebrities or—”
“Enough, Jamzy.”
Lucien smiles without looking at him, reaches up and gently removes my own mask. I immediately grab his wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“I want a picture.”
“...What?”
“We don’t have any,” he says, actually sounding disappointed.
“We don’t need pictures.”
“I do.” His answer comes so quietly it almost hurts. “I’ve spent months collecting memories inside my own head because I never thought we’d get this.” His thumb brushes my cheek. “I want proof this happened.”
I look away first.
“That’s... reckless.”
“I know.”
“So why?”
His smile thins, and I know he’s remembering how much time we have.
“Because if and when our world burns tomorrow, I don't want to remember tonight.” He glances toward Jazmy. “I want to see it.”
My chest tightens, and I rest a hand on his.
“One picture, but I swear if this leaks—”
“It won’t.”
He says it with absolute certainty, but I still don't believe him.
So we stand awkwardly beside each other while Jazmy raises the camera with shaking hands.
“What do you want us to do?”
I ask, trying hard not to look at Lucien.
“Just... look at each other.”
Great. I smile awkwardly and turn toward him.
“This is weird,” I whisper, my voice sounding small and strained.
For a split second, he doesn’t move. Then, the corner of his mouth quirked into a smirk. He looks at me, with clouded eyes that make my breath hitch.