?Not at All?

(Day 2: Monday Night-Tuesday Morning)

"You weren't upset about what Lonnie said, were you?" asks Carlos.

"What do you mean?" Jay questions. "When she said she thought our parents would've loved us, even if they are villains?" Carlos nods. "No… not really. You?"

It takes a minute for him to answer, "Kind of. I mean, at least Mal and Evie can say their parents ultimately want what they think is best for them, but what about us?"

"What about us?"

"Do you think they love us at all? You know, in their own way?" Jay isn't given a chance to speak. "It's just that I know my mother said she'd miss me, but I wonder if she's actually missing me or if it's more that she misses what I do for her."

Jay takes a couple steps closer, "Carlos."

"Am I crazy?" he tears up. "Am I crazy for hoping that she could care about me even just a little? Is it even possible that she could?"

Jay walks closer to him and places a hand on his shoulder, "Anything is possible. And look, I may not know a lot about your mother, but I know that deep down under my father's desire to get his way that he does care about me."

"I wish I was as sure," Carlos sniffles.

Jay smiles, "Confidence is a gift." but it soon falls. "Of course, I could be completely wrong." Carlos slightly laughs, and Jay places his other hand over his cheek and wipes the tears off with his thumb. "If she doesn't care about you, then it's her loss."

"But you care about me, right?"

"Of course, I do."

"Even though you could have any girl you want?" Carlos comments.

Jay grins, "They have nothing on you."

"Really?" he hopes.

"Yeah." He takes the hand that was on Carlos's cheek and moves it into his hair. "And you know why?"

"Because I'm a guy?"

Jay laughs, "Because you have the willingness to follow through." before he slowly moves in to kiss him.

Carlos laughs in response, "By follow through, do you mean—"

"Would now be such an inappropriate time as to ask you to spend the night together and not just in the same room?"

Carlos grins before biting his bottom lip, "Not at all."

When Carlos enters the boys' bathroom after Remedial Goodness the next morning he's surprised to see four guys smoking, at least two of which he recognizes from the tourney team, "I didn't realize smoking was legal in Auradon."

Aziz comments, "You have to be twenty-two to buy them, but my father insists that a little bit of rebellious behavior is just a rite of passage."

"And who would your parents be?" Carlos responds with irritation.

"Sultan Aladdin and Sultana Jasmine of Agrabah."

"Oh, God. That means that—"

"That your friend and I are like natural enemies? Yeah. I know, but don't worry about it. The team needs more of a good center forward than I need of an enemy." After taking a puff he offers a cigarette to Carlos, "You want one?"

Carlos laughs, "No."

"Hey," calls out a blond guy. "He's just trying to be nice."

"Yeah. Whatever, but on the Isle we have a saying: if you hurt yourself, then you're even more weak than those who can't defend themselves." He nods down to the cigarettes, "I don't know if you've read any literature on those things, but I have. They're harmful, so you should really just quit them." He challenges with a shrug, "Unless, of course, you're just too weak to."

He sees a couple of the guys become shocked, as if they hadn't really thought through this whole rebellious thing until now, but the blond guy comments for them, "Your mother smokes. I know she does. She's practically famous for it."

"Because she can't quit," Carlos defends, but then he becomes quiet. "I mean, not that she'd want to stop anyway, but still. The island's saying still stands. If you hurt yourself, you're weak. It doesn't matter if it's from smoking, a knife, or just simply not thinking things through. It still applies."

Aziz breaks through his shock, "You're not just making this up, are you? This saying really exists. You're really encouraging us to stop. But why?"

"Let's just say that I've grown to hate cigarettes over the years," Carlos responds, before he moves into a stall for privacy. He can hear them talking about it. They're really considering if smoking could even be considered rebellious if even a villain kid didn't do it, and when he finishes up and walks to the sink they stare at him again. "What is it?"

"Do any VKs smoke?"

It takes a moment for Carlos to realize the acronym stands for villain kids, and even though his hands are clean now he continues to wash them so that he doesn't have to look at the group of smokers, "Only the stupid ones."

"Whoa. What's that?" a third voice intrudes.

"What's what?" Carlos asks.

"That, there, on your neck," he points.

Carlos slaps the hand away and hurries to dry his hands, "It's nothing. I was just picking up the floor, and my mother accidently dropped her cigarette on me. It's nothing."

Aziz comments, "If there was more to the story—"

"There isn't," Carlos yells. "So, you can just all shut up and be quiet about it."

He hurries past them and to the door, but then one of them calls out, "Wait."

Carlos turns back around and sees Aziz holding a hand full of items, and he asks, "What's this?" as he walks closer to them.

"We don't need them anymore," he explains. "Take them."

"What. You can't throw them away yourself?"

Aziz smiles, "It's a gesture of good faith. We're not like your mother. You can trust us."

Carlos unsurely comments, "Okay." as he takes the items one-by-one. It's just two packs of cigarettes and four lighters. "I should probably know your names."

"Well, as you know I'm Aziz. The one with brown hair is Brendan, the other black haired one is Li, and the blond one is William."

Carlos nods before gesturing to the four of them, "Are you all on the tourney team?"

"Yep."

Carlos gives a look, "And you were smoking? You know that causes lung problems, right? How stupid could you be?"

"Very stupid," William answers. "Thanks for enlightening us."

"Oh. Ah. You're welcome, I guess." He shakes his head, "Okay. Come on. You have to be messing with me, right? No one is this…" He searches for a word, "Undefensive."

Brendan smiles, "You guys have it pretty rough over there, don't you?"

Carlos frowns, "Yeah. I guess we do."

Aziz comments, "I'd like to believe that it's calmer here, more or less. You don't have to worry. We're being sincere. We shouldn't have been touching that stupid stuff anyways."

"Well, you don't have to worry either," Carlos calmly responds before he smiles. "I'll get rid of that stupid stuff for you."

"That would be great. We'll see you out on the field later, right?" Aziz asks

"Yeah." Carlos takes a few steps back towards the door, "See you then." and when he exits the bathroom he lingers a while to see if he can listen in. It's hard to do, what with the thick door and echoic area, but from what he can tell they didn't pull a fast one on him. They didn't just plant some kind of contraband on him. No. Worst case: they have some mixed thoughts about him. Best case: he actually made a good impression on them. But they saw it. They saw the burn. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I lean my head forward so much? Why didn't I just cover it up in the first? Now it won't take long before the whole school knows… but then again, we're only going to be here for a few days anyway.

- I'm not sure if the title fits the entirety of the chapter. If anyone has any suggestions, then let me know. Thank you. See you tomorrow for day three. And, yeah, I know it's lame to have someone make such a big deal out of someone's hair color, as if it's the only way to tell the person apart from another; however, if I just had him point to them, then you wouldn't have known the difference between them at all... so, yeah. I bet that after this fic is done and I edit it again that I'll be too annoyed by the lameness and find a better way to do it, even if it is just an author's narration from Carlos's point of view describing their looks rather than Aziz just saying it aloud.