Respectfully, an Absolute Mess

There's a Time and Place for Everything

When Jean's alarm went off, at 10 am, that gross sound pissed him off. He was annoyed that he didn't sleep in, and even more annoyed that he was the only one in the household of boys to help Floch prep for the day. Jean was the most responsible, plus he was promised to be the next president even though he didn't truly want it, but it irked him that Floch didn't grab Daz, or Samuel, or even the sister sororities president to help him out. Fuck, he could have asked Connie and even if everything wasn't set up well the boy sure would have done it to the best of his ability. 

This was not the day to be getting this mad about trivial things, though.

So when the alarm went off, Jean told Floch bluntly that he was going to take a shower and if anyone interrupted it - war was imminent. Floch nodded, thanking him for his help and then Jean was off to go take a long hot shower.

But even that was interrupted by a phone call, like a menace to society the man answered the phone while the hot water dripped down his body. Answering it only because whenever he let his phone go to voicemail something horrible happens. The words spoken on the other line destroying his entire day, and oh did he wish he didn't pick it up.

Slowly, he moved after that. Finishing up his shower and then putting his phone on do not disturb, giving his brain time to process what he was just told. Sluggishly, he went through the rest of his morning - only cheering up when Connie barged into his room to show him his fit for the day.

When people started to arrive at the house was when Jean actually got dressed, knowing he wouldn't be able to pregame he kept himself away from the festivities. He told Floch he'd drive them to the venue, and then help him set up there - and every minute after offering that Jean had asked himself why. Why the fuck did I do that?

But he did, and there was no getting out of it - and because he had to drive, no drinking could happen until later in the day.

So while music boomed from the living room, and people chatted about in the kitchen - Jean got dressed. Black slacks, white button down, a black blazer - and to match your dress he also chose a black tie. He stared at himself in the mirror, sighing and shaking his head to the left and right - still trying to get his brain working.

Still trying to get over it.

But it didn't work, so he chose to go take a rip from Connie's bong and hopefully rid himself of all of his negative thoughts. Plus, Jean knew he could drive a car high - he'd done it hundred times in the past.

Leaving his closet sized room, he went into Connies equally sized one - quickly rushing across the hall to escape any wandering glances down it - he didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment. He was a man on a mission. Closing the door quickly behind him, he snagged Connie's new bong off of his bedside table.

Half a bowl pack already sat in it, which was evidence of Connie's usual wake and bake - a win to Jean's failure of a morning. The guy happy he didn't have to pack it, or use his own weed at that.

He ripped it once, letting it bubble and filling up the chamber a healthy amount before taking it all in, and then letting it all out. He put the bong down, waiting to see if he wanted another hit. While he waited he looked at himself in Connie's mirror - fixing his hair that he had let dry naturally this morning. He used his fingers to push the strands back, and when they didn't stay in place Jean bummed a bit of hair product that Connie for some reason had on his dresser.

Seriously, Jean thought, why the fuck does this kid have this?

But it helped him, since Jean rarely ever used product now that his hair had grown this long. He usually just pushed it back after a shower, and let nature run its course. But he used Connie's gel - and then stood there staring at himself in the mirror having a mute crisis.