Chapter Text
Frankly Jamil felt like an overworked mother of a semi-incompetent child who still complies to everything said child wants and needs, but that was usual now. A slight constant headache and muscles always tensed was normal and he could deal with it.
He wouldn’t admit that sometimes he did try to create plans in his head for freedom, no shame in it, but he never planned on trying to actually do them now even as good as they sound.
His fingers slipped through his hair, he looped the strands under each other and picked up another strand to weave it in, the usual routine. He knotted the braids back in a tie then a red ribbon.
He tapped his phone screen and glanced at the time. 4:15; cutting it a bit late.
He moseyed onto the kitchen to prepare breakfast and do a trap scan someone could’ve left in the night.
The usual routine flew by him as he worked before Kalim even rose.
7:14. Kalim slept through his alarm. Of course.
A sigh was let through his nose, then he made his way upstairs to wake the boy.
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Kalim was fully awake while having breakfast, chatting away as usual as Jamil half listened.
“I swear Ruggie’s not as schemingly desperate as he seems! Well, maybe not… But, he’s fun to chat with!” Kalim said while eating his food.
“Don’t choke, also you find everyone fun to chat with,” Jamil said without the usual enthusiasm of someone talking with another they know very well. ‘Wow I wonder why…’
He swallowed down the bite. “What can I say?” he smiled. “OH, did you hear that there’s a dance audition coming up since we have better trained dancers this year, idea from Vil of course!”
Jamil did wonder how Kalim remembers that but not Jamil saying to always check his drink when he’s out, which has created problems before. He vaguely remembered seeing the notice but it had been a long day yesterday so he must have forgotten. He had an inkling the suggestion actually was prompted by Rook but Vil is the organizer, just couldn’t prove it (not like he wanted to).
“Cool,” he said in the same tone. However, it did catch his attention, Vil unfortunately did have good choreos.
No, you can’t take on this commitment because if Kalim isn’t there then he wouldn’t be able to watch him. He could have Kalim sit in the corner? No he’d get bored or distract others… and besides, this would outshine Kalim.
“You should try out!” Kalim sat up with a huge smile. Jamil looked over, a small crease between his eyebrows.
“You know I shouldn't..” Jamil sighed. He wished he could say he didn’t want to do it which was a huge fat lie not even he could say to himself.
“It’s fine! If someone is mean to you about ignoring me I’ll say I forced you!” Only Kalim could say that bit with so much cheer. At least Kalim started to absorb what Jamil had scolded him for repeatedly.
“Kalim….” He had a hesitant sour expression.
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How did he wind up outside the dance studio doors with Kalim giving two thumbs up to go in.
He sighed and turned to him one last time. “Don’t get into trouble, I swear-”
“I’ll be fine!” Kalim said and pushed him inside despite the protests at being pushed.
“Hey!-”
He walked the rest of the steps himself into the space. He received his number and went into his spot in the line.
Rook and Vil were at the set up table with a computer in the middle and two clipboards with papers in front of them.
Rook had his hair tied back in a ponytail rather than down with a hat. He had that same slightly sly smile with his eyes that radiated French. Don’t ask him how his eyes did that.
Vil sat next to him, as poised as ever. He currently wore his dorm clothes; a strand of hair was barely tucked behind his ear but he’d be damned if that wasn’t intentional. Unlike Rook’s ‘French’ eyes, Vil’s held a constant sense of judgement at everything he looked at, assessing everything. He was all too familiar with the constant glare which could either lighten or darken to the point you’d forget the lights were on around you.
However, at the same time being around him felt like an AC blowing a cold breeze against you. Sometimes too chilly, but tending Kalim made his blood run hot so it felt a bit more even at times.
Looking at Vil you could tell he was confident and sure of what he did. When you got to know him, he was exactly that and more; someone who’d rather die than make the work easy, independent as hell, and well rooted but always growing further.
Jamil didn't tend to think too hard on this, like ever, though.