Jackson St.James

Feyre looked up from her book just as Jackson took the seat across from her. Politely, she closed the book on itself and stared across at him as he complained. With the beard and long hair, it was kind of amazing that someone had carded him, but she didn’t share those thoughts since he said not to. “The nerve of some people. Carding you when you have more hair than a Komondor. Damn them,” she smirked taking a small sip from her glass. They hadn’t carded her since all of Woodstock knew about the Lysanders. Well, they at least knew Feyre wasn’t younger than 21, but that’s about all they knew.

Jackson was stumped when Feyre had said he was harrier than a Komondor. What in the fuck was a Komondor? Sneakily under the table, he had pulled out his phone and was searching google for whatever it was that she had called him. When an image of a dog with what seemed like dread locks, he rolled his eyes while leaning his head back. “Oh haha, that’s very funny.” He hid his laughter in a drink of his beer. “Your fake concern hurts me, tiny Lysander.” 

Marisol paused to look at the man, or boy, she couldn’t tell just yet. No matter his dismissal of the question, the wheels in her head still turned as she attempted to decipher his age. “I would say you look like you’re between twenty- one and twenty-four.”

Her shoulders shrugged as she sat down in front of him. “But I think he was just doing his job. He’s the one who gets yelled at if he doesn’t ask you.”

“You actually hit it right on the dot. I’m twenty-four.” He paused and shifted in his seat to look up at the taller female. “I guess you’re right. Don’t want the bartender to get in trouble.” Shrugging, Jackson scratched at his scruff on his face before leaning back against the back of his seat. 

“I’ll answer it anyway,” Jules started, adjusting in his seat. “Everyone under thirty-five looks like a baby to me.” A smile lept to his lips. It wasn’t unusual – he was someone who was always smiling. Someone who always had a reason, even if it was dark.

“It’s policy around here,” he replied, that smile wide. “You can never be too sure. Just saw someone the other day that I would’ve thought was forty. But this little lady apparently liked to party. She wasn’t even twenty. How sad is that?”

“Why don’t you ever listen? Jackson asked, licking some cheese and sour cream from his finger. “I look older than I am. It’s the beard. The physical disability too, but we’re not counting that.” Jackson smirked before taking a swig from his beer. 

“We could have gone to my brother’s bar, he wouldn’t card us there.” Shrugging, the male took another bite from the nachos. In the background, a group of men and women cheered for whatever sports was on the tv. “Damn. She wasn’t even twenty, and looked like she was 40? Hmm...” He cocked his head to the side, thinking about what could do that to a person.

“I just got carded, can you believe that?” He sighed, albeit smiling as he did so. “Do I look younger than 21?” He questioned, looking to his friend. “Never mind, don’t answer that.” 

Novalene sighed heavily and ran her hand through her hair. “I thought so but I was holding out hope that at least half the bottle wouldn’t be too much.” She joked, shaking her head at herself. Making a mental note to never drink past her limit again since this would be the result. “Yeah I think that’s probably help.” She nodded, picking up the cup and taking a drink. “What are you up to?” Novalene asked, tapping the back of his laptop.

Jackson smiled at Novalene, watching her as she took sips of his coffee. He had to wonder how she liked the bitter taste of the strong black coffee. Maybe she liked it, or maybe she was just good at covering up the fact she hated it, so as to not be mean. “Overdosing is worse than a hangover, let’s just put it at that.” He smiled before glancing back to his laptop. 

“Just ordering some stock for my brother’s bar. Just finished a flyer for the next music guest we’re going to have. Wanna see?” 

During the week things had been going pretty well for Novalene. Her mood had been staying consistent and the red head was lucky anytime it did. Today though she happened to be nursing a hangover worse than some of her other ones. But in retrospect it was her fault for getting as drunk as she did and not drinking any water or anything. It wasn’t usual to find her in a bar but she had decided to have some fun and it backfired on her.

Figuring coffee might do her some good, Novalene finally pulled herself out of bed. Taking two aspirin and tossing the bottle into her purse before she walked out of the door. Upon walking into Wake the Dead, she saw a familiar face and sat down. “I think I might need to take a whole bottle of aspirin to get rid of this hangover. How many can you take before it’s too much?” She asked, resting her head on her hand.

Jackson had a night full of nothing but smoking with Serge and the gang, and was feeling the effects of it this morning. Not wanting to chase a marijuana hangover with a bottle of tequila like his brother had suggested, he instead when to Wake the dead to get a very strong cup of coffee and something to eat while he filled stock orders for the bar. 

He was just in the middle of filling out a flyer for their next musical guest when a familiar red head sat herself down across from him at his table. Looking up from his laptop, he raised an eyebrow. “If you have to ask how much is too much, it’s definitely too much.” He shook his head. “Want some of my coffee?” 

Eyeing the extended hand, Feyre couldn’t help but nervously wring her hands together. It was a kind gesture, that’s all. He could obviously see she was freaking out. As much as she liked to hide it, when things got this bad it was hard. “Water would be good,” she nodded, gingerly placing her hand in his. “I’m Feyre by the way. Walk as fast as you can and I’ll be happy.” As if that would probably comfort him… That was her aim though. She didn’t like feeling like a burden when her problem affected more people than just herself.

Jackson smiled softly at the girl, and nodded his head. “Jackson, nice to meet you. “ Wrapping his fingers around her hand, he nodded his head and began to walk through the crowd. It wasn’t fast, moderate, which was more than his usual pace. It didn’t take them too long until they were out of the main festival and into the parking lot that was overfilled with cars and bikes. It wasn’t until a little further down the sidewalk that they had reached a convenience store that was parked on the corner just across from where the festival was being held. “You wanna go in with me, or hang out, out here? Also, do you want something to eat maybe?” He asked, glancing between the store and her. 

Feyre didn’t chuckle along with him, but that didn’t mean she felt any less nervous or awkward than Jackson did. It was a little too late for Feyre though considering she’d hit her overflow level over thirty minutes ago and was too lost to find her way out of the festival. “Well, considering you don’t even know my name, I needed you to declare your intentions,” the blonde deadpanned with a shrug. Sure, that hadn’t been in practice since the medieval times, but it did help move things along. “With that out of the way… Yes, I’d love to leave the festival. I’ve been looking for the exit for twenty minutes and I just… I couldn’t find it.” Thinking about it all was making her start to hyperventilate again. “If you could just lead the way…”

Seeing as how she seemed more than ready to leave, he took the opportunity to leave with her. It wasn’t his scene, and he had no one to talk too, so it only seemed natural to help her out while also helping out himself. “Alright, it’s okay. I know the exit.” He felt bad that she was freaking out. He had never had to deal with anxiety like this before, so he felt strange trying to make her feel better. “We’re actually pretty close to the parking lot, we can just leave through there. Get you some water maybe.” Jackson held out his hand for him to take. “I can’t walk very fast, so you won’t lose me, but maybe it’ll help you feel better.” 

Nodding, Feyre shurgged apparently agreeing with his statement. “Must be the flowers than. Two weddings on the 4th of July. I was up to my neck in red, white and blue flowers this morning.” The plus side to working at the floral shop - free perfume that honestly seemed to follow her wherever she went. Even their tiny house was starting to permanently smell like roses and daffodils. Feyre smiled, not wanting to give away the fact that she was actually not fine, but she was afraid her hands gave that away. The were messing with the hem of her shirt, clenching and unclenching the fabric in her fists like that was supposed to help. “I’m… Well… My brother usually says that to women he’s about to sleep with. So, if you mean it that way then no.” For someone so shy, she was awfully blunt.

Jackson was a bit taken aback by the statement. It had him running his hand over his mouth and scratching the slight beard of his to hide the obvious color that flooded his cheeks. “N-no. Not like that.” He was chuckling out of nervousness, the statement making him think he had sounded really creepy, and that’s not what he had wanted to do at all. “I meant ‘get out of here’ like actually leave the festival.” Jackson cleared his throat, thinking how much of a bad impression he was making already. “I think the parks around here don’t have many people, they’re all at the music event.” 

“I was channeling a bulldozer so… I was all elbow and no consideration…” Which was the truth. With as many people in the streets as there was, it had been the only way for her to maneuver around the festivities. “Well, you look refreshed… And smelling like beer is better than just smelling. I’ve got the BO from running around this place and that doesn’t stand for Beer-Odor.” And that wasn’t meant as a joke. Well, it was, but the way her words just spilled out of her mouth, there was no stoping the deep red color that filled her cheeks. Between the heat, her anxiety, and this mess… She looked like a mess.

The rambling of this girl actually pulled a chuckle out of him. “Alright, calm down speedy, i’m not hurt, and.” He leaned forward for a moment, before rocking back onto his heels. “You definitely don’t smell. Well, you smell good, but not like BO.” He watched her, getting the feeling that she wasn’t comfortable being among all these people. It was the same way he felt most of the day. “Are you alright? Do you wanna get out of here?” 

Feyre had been focused on nothing else but the exit sign ahead of her. Sure, the carnival would have been fun a couple of years ago, but this just wasn’t her scene anymore. As determined as she was, it really wasn’t a surprise that she’d run into someone. “Oh,” she exclaimed, turning on her heels even though her body was telling her to keep moving. “I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes landed on the big stain down his shirt. Another day ruined by her. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She rushed forward and started patting at the stain with her hands, not really thinking straight. “I was in such a hurry. It was all my fault. And this isn’t helping is it…” she pulled her hands away and wiped them down her shirt. Taking a large step away, she gave him some personal space.

The action of patting his shirt came from a place of wanting to help, despite making it worse. His shirt stuck to his chest now, the beer cooling his warm skin. “It’s alright, no big deal. I hadn’t been looking truthfully.” He shrugged while wiping his own hand over his shirt, same as she had done, even though nothing happened. “Really, it’s alright. Who cares if I smell like beer, everyone else does anyways.” He smiled to show he wasn’t upset. 

Bea hadn’t been looking where she was going, if truth be told. Distracted for a moment in a crowd was asking for trouble, and she found it in the form of another body bumping into hers and beer running down her arm. Looking up at the source, she smiled and shook her head. “You’re good. Third time of it happening has got to be good luck, right? I figure I’m just going to learn osmosis and get drunk that way, by the end of the festival. I mean, sure, at this point, I just stink of beer, but imagine the calories saved in the long run?” Bea said lightly before nodding in the direction of a nearby booth. “Get you a refill?” she offered. “You can rant about your apparent bad luck, if you want.”

“You’ve got the right idea with the osmosis thing, that’s the way to go. Then you don’t have to carry anything around.” He smiled softly, awkwardly scratching the side of his face before shaking out his shirt to hopefully dry it out a little. “Wow, uh, that’s really nice. Thanks.” He nodded in her direction, remembering her from the bar, as well as knowing her through Serge. He gestured for her to go ahead, figuring he’d limp behind her since he knew people would part for her. “You been at the festival long?”