"What does he have that I don't?"
Jazz sighed, trying to look anywhere but Falsetto's searching green eyes. "'Setto…"
"I mean, besides a dick."
He snorted softly at that; sometimes he had to wonder. "Yeah, because you're just so damn feminine."
"So is that it? I'm not an empty-headed beauty like Claves was?"
That hurt. "No. No, that's not it."
"I'm not dainty and pretty like Frederic?"
"Falsetto, you're going to drive yourself crazy doing this! It's nothing that's wrong with you."
She took a step back and collapsed onto the ratty sofa, pain clear in her face. "So I'm just never going to be good enough? No matter what I do, I'm just never going to be good enough for you?"
"Whatare you talking about?"
"I've been here your whole life, Jazz, and somehow you just keep passing me over. You picked Crescendo, you picked Claves, and now you've picked Frederic… what the hell is the matter with me?"
He sighed again, mostly because there was no good answer to that. "I couldn't live without you, Falsetto. You know that."
"So why the fuck do you keep pushing me away?"
"It's not like I'm trying to."
They lapsed into silence; there was nothing more to say. They'd had this conversation before, although neither one would ever admit it, and it always ended this way. Jazz didn't have an answer and Falsetto didn't have a clue, and they just kept fighting the same battles and having the same arguments and dancing around all the things that really needed to be said.
"He's not like us," she whispered finally. Jazz nodded, eyes fixed on the floor.
"Yeah. I know. Maybe that's what attracts me."
She huffed, but the sound wasn't angry so much as sad. "I never stood a chance."
He glanced up and forced on a smile. "No, you're right. You never did." He moved closer to where she was sitting, wrapping one arm across her shoulders. "I love you, Falsetto, but that's the problem: you're just like me. You're shrewd and hard-headed and stubborn as hell, and I don't think I could stand to be in a relationship with myself. I just don't love myself enough."
Falsetto turned in the embrace, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. "I love you."
He nodded, tears stinging the backs of his eyes, and brought a shaky hand up to pet through wild, ashen hair. "Maybe that'll have to be enough for both of us."
Why yes, there is a story behind why Crescendo's name made it onto that list. Someday I'll get around to writing it.