If he were honest with himself, Ezra knew he was being a little dramatic. Locking himself in his room, refusing to come out, boycotting all (most) of his meals in favor of lounging on his bed, a guilty pleasure book - Oscar Wilde's Picture of Dorian Gray - in hand? Not the most sensible, non-dramatic behavior, even he could admit. It definitely wasn't "serious" behavior.
But, the truth was, Ezra couldn't bring himself to do anything else. The thought of heading outside his room and facing his friends was terrifying, and he'd already had to do it once, had to tell them what happened through a crack in the door before slamming it shut and locking it. He could hear them now, could hear them pounding on the door so hard it shook (really, Carmen, was that absolutely necessary?), concern evident in their voices.
The pounding ended eventually, but Ezra could hear them chatting outside his room, their voices rising in pitch. Carmen - as usual, despite her low-pitched voice - was loudest, her words easily cutting through the silence and worming into Ezra's room. "I just looked in his window… He's reading Oscar Wilde!"
A literal shriek rose at that, a cacophony as his friends - affectionately deemed The Horsemen after the three of them commandeered the photoshoot horses from their junior-year prom, riding them through the town and generally causing mischief and mayhem - reacted to the news. Was Ezra really that easy to read? It's not like he didn't read Oscar Wilde on the days when he wasn't getting over a major breakup… And the fact that Wilde happened to be his go-to comfort author had absolutely nothing to do with it.
With a sigh, Ezra propelled himself from the bed, walking to the door in a comfortably plush - not at all revealing in the midsection - robe, and walking outside. "My dear fellows, what is all this ruckus?"
"Ezra…" Sable frowned, then gestured to a tray in his hands. "We were just passing by and thought we'd bring some chow." He looked Ezra over, then frowned. "A good thing, too… you look like you haven't been eating."
"I'm perfectly fine, my dear boy." Ezra smiled, but even he knew it was a thin protest.
Chalky frowned. "We don't believe you, Ezra." They stepped forward, a small book clutched in their hands. "But we brought you your favorite literary magazine to cheer you up!"
Ezra smiled, a little more genuine this time. "Thanks, Chalky." Still, whatever authenticity there was in the smile faded nearly immediately. "But I think it'll take a little more than literary magazines to pull me out of my shame." Still, he took the magazine and looked down at it, rifling through the pages delicately, letting his eyes linger on a few of the pages.
Carmen smiled, grin sharp and vicious. "Want me to kill him for you? 'Cause I'd do it." Frankly, Ezra didn't really doubt it, but his attention was too focused on the picture he'd just seen printed on the glossy paper. He paled, nearly dropping the magazine and letting out a sharp, quiet cry. Carmen looked over, one perfect eyebrow raising in question. "What is it?"
"It's Gabriel's author sister... that pretentious Uriel! Pictures from her wedding! Apparently, it was a very stylish affair." His tone dragged as the sentence stretched on, and Ezra was near tears at the end, but he blinked the traces away.
His friends didn't let the matter go anyway, a chorus of outrage - "Sandalphon?"- rising. Ezra looked away, the tears returning in a rush at the combination of his own sadness and humbled gratitude. As he did, his eyes fell on the book he'd discarded on his bed, just visible through the open door. The Picture of Dorian Gray… a book about a portrait that reflected the worst side of the subject. Ezra's Picture wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just the many mirrors he'd ever looked into; he didn't need anything supernatural to reflect flaws if flaws were all he had. No, he was thinking more in the opposite direction… He'd have to turn himself into what Gabriel wanted, to hide the flaws behind a perfect veneer and win back the man of his dreams.
Ezra let out a sharp breath of surprise at the epiphany, opening the magazine further. "Wait!" The other three ceased their ranting - "Look at that hair - or, rather, the lack of it! It's a travesty" - and turned to him. He took in the man in the photo, taking in his flawless suit, his somewhat flashy jewelry that spoke of wealth, the professional tan suit. "This is the kind of person Gabriel wants… Someone serious! Someone lawyerly! Someone who wears black when nobody's dead!" Had Ezra not just happened upon his newest plan for the future, he might have laughed at the identical confused frowns on the Horsemen's faces. Instead, he was too ecstatic to care. "He needs to see me as his kind of man, not mine. I don't need to read books or enjoy food or even own a little shop in Soho." A brief twinge of sadness struck him at that; after all, he'd been dreaming about that shop since he was a little boy. Still, Gabriel should mean more to him than a collection of paper. "I'll meet him at law school - I think he said Heaven Law, yes? - and I'll show him just what kind of a man I can be." Naturally, Sable was the one to push back. "I think this is an… interesting idea, but have you considered each facet of this decision? Law school is very difficult; your social schedule will be pretty bare, pretty empty for a while."
Ezra shrugged. "Yes, my dear boy, but that doesn't matter. I love Gabriel, and that - that most holy of all things - will see me through every trial that I may face."
Carmen broke in, then… really, it was a miracle she had stayed quiet as long as she did. "You'll need money, you realize. You won't get what you want unless you take-" And, oh, did that word sound so ominous when dropping from smirking scarlet lips. "-what you need."
Ezra had to concede that this was an issue, but he eventually shrugged again. "I can talk to my parents. Besides, I'm smart enough that I believe I can get a good score."
Chalky frowned. "You realize that you've degrees in Latin (a dead language) and Religion (has little to do with law), yes? These are hardly the best grounds for being admitted to as prestigious a school as Heaven. With the bias you might find polluting the school board, they might dismiss you for not having the proper qualifications." They stepped back, walking - practically flowing - over to one wall and leaning against it.
Ezra shook his head. "Love will see me through. I'll simply have to… speak to a higher authority. I just have to explain things to them, and then they'll let me in."
They were still frowning, even as they continued. "How will you prove to Gabriel that you're serious? He's biased against you. He won't see you as serious at all, especially not if you're the same old Ezra Fell he's already met."
Ezra did deflate a little at that, but he fought to maintain the illusion of bravery, at the very least. "Then I won't be the same old Ezra Fell. I'll… I'll use my birth name."
The others seemed taken aback, and, as a whole, unconvinced - Ezra could see the skepticism in their faces - but he couldn't let them sway him. He was going to get into Heaven, and he was going to win back Gabriel.
He was going to become, for all intents and purposes, serious law student, Aziraphale Fell.