Disclaimer: I don't own Descendants.

Jay groaned as the coach blew the whistle, announcing the end of practice. He'd been having fun. Now that the four of them had publically announced that they had chosen to be good, the team was a lot more accepting of him and Carlos. They were willing to actually pass to Jay, knowing that he could make the shot with ease. Due to this, Jay had helped them win a lot.

"Good job, team," the coach yelled out to the sweaty teenagers, "Hit the showers."

Carlos jogged over to him, grinning, "Did you see that, Jay? I almost got it in the goal!"

Jay tried very hard not to refrain from laughing. Yes, Carlos had managed to throw it towards the goal… but the goalie had caught it with ease. Still, it was an improvement for the younger boy. At least the ball had been heading towards the goal when it was caught and not for the coach's head.

"Good job," Jay said instead, ruffling the boy's hair. Carlos scowled and knocked Jay's hand away.

Like every practice, Carlos had an excuse ready when they arrived at the showers, claiming that he forgot something on the field. Jay simply rolled his eyes, used to his friends "forgetfulness", and headed to the shower.

Showers made him… uncomfortable. On the isle, they never had hot water and on the isle, they would have never dared shower with other people. That was dangerous. It was just asking to be attacked.

Despite knowing that no one would attack him in Auradon, years of fear made him shower quickly every time. He was in and out in five minutes.

Being the first one out, he headed to the locker room to grab his things before searching for where Carlos went.

As he was leaving the locker room, something caught his eye.

Someone's locker was opened slightly and placed on top of their clothes was an IPhone. Jay hesitated, hands itching to grab it and leave. They didn't have those on the Isle. His father would love it.

But… he wasn't on the Isle anymore. He didn't need to give things to his father. His father wasn't there to force him to steal for him.

He was good. He wasn't bad. Stealing was bad… and he was good.

He couldn't steal anymore.

He didn't want to steal anymore.

So why was his hands moving towards the locker?

Physically restraining himself from grabbing the IPhone out of the locker, he quickly fled the room.

He was good. He didn't steal. He didn't have to steal. On the Isle, stealing was necessary. It wasn't here. Stealing was bad and he was good and he couldn't do that.

Was he good?

Moving quickly towards his dorm, he tried very hard not to scream in frustration. He'd chosen good… was that good enough? Just because he'd chosen to be good, did that make him good? Was he just wired to be bad?

Carlos was already in the room when Jay arrived, seated on his bed and reading some book. He looked up with a smile when Jay entered but it quickly turned into a frown. Jay ignored him, racing to the bathroom and quickly locking the door behind him.

He gripped the sink, breathing heavily and willing the tears not to cry.

No, he was the son of Jafar. He would not cry. There was no reason to.

"Jay?" Carlos' tentative voice came from behind the door, "Are you okay?"

Jay couldn't answer. He didn't know if he was. His mind was swirling. He couldn't understand anything that was going on.

Was he good? Did choosing to be good make him good?

Was genetics really that strong? Could he actually be bad?

He didn't want to bad.

If he wasn't bad, why did his hand still itch to steal? Why did his mind wander to how much things around him could be worth?

Tears slipped down his face and he furiously wiped them away. His knees threatened to give up on him and he leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

Knocking filled the room, "Jay, open up."

He didn't want to be. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be like the people in Auradon. He wanted to play Tourney and date people and be a normal teenager. He wanted to be good.

How could he be good? He'd been raised to be bad. His life had revolved around stealing, around having sticky fingers. It was a habit he'd learned to stay alive. It was necessary on the Isle.

It was bad.

He was bad.

It didn't matter that he had chosen good. He couldn't chose a characteristic of himself.

"Jay, are you okay?"

Why couldn't he be normal? He didn't want to steal… at least, he didn't think so. Stealing had no purpose in Auradon. It wasn't necessary anymore. All it would do was hurt someone. He didn't want to hurt them.

He wanted to be good.

"If you don't open this door right now, I will use a spell."

Why wouldn't Carlos leave him alone?

Wait… Carlos didn't have magic.

Jay looked up, his thoughts momentarily shifted on to who was at the door that it broke him out of his panic. That wasn't Carlos. That was Mal.

Slowly, he pushed himself to a standing position and frantically brushed the tears off his face. He opened the door with a faux grin, a skill he'd learned to do long ago.

"Hey, Mal. What brings you here?"

The purple-haired girl glared at him. Evie and Carlos stood behind her, eyes wide.

She shoved a bag into Jay's arms.

"Ben told me that you left this in the locker room," she said, looking like she wanted nothing more than to berate Jay, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he answered smoothly, leaning against the wall, "Just forgot it."

Mal crossed her arms, clearly not believing him. He sighed, but he wouldn't back down. Mal didn't need to know that Jay had broken down like that.

He was Jafar's son. He did not cry.

"Your eyes are red," Evie spoke up tentatively from behind Mal. She sounded sad, "You've been crying."

Jay turned to Evie defensively, "I have not!"

Evie was having none of that. Without another word, she suddenly launched herself past Mal and wrapped her arms around Jay, who froze.

He was Jafar's son. He didn't hug people. At least, he didn't hug people like this.

"Something's wrong, Jay. You're our friend. We can tell," Evie said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

He could feel his mask crumbling.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Carlos said softly and Jay felt Dude tug on his pants affectionately.

He sighed and looked down, "It's just... I'm not good."

There was silence in the room. Evie tightened her hug. Mal sighed, looking sad. Carlos picked Dude up, eyes drawn to the floor.

And then, Mal spoke.

"Jay, you are good."

"But I-"

"Don't interrupt me," Mal said, eyes flashing dangerously. Jay fell quiet. "You are good. Trust me. I'm your friend and I know you. You're kind. You're funny. You protect us. You're brave. Jay, you helped us defeat my mother," she stressed that last part, eyes soft and showing just how true her words were saying, "Yes, you have your faults but we all do. Yes, we did some bad things on the Isle but they don't define us."

"I almost stole something," he protested sadly.

Carlos spoke now, "But you didn't."

Jay's breath hitched at that. It was true. He didn't steal.

"Jay, you're not bad," Evie whispered, "You never were."

As his knees threatened to buckle again, Mal and Carlos swooped in and wrapped their arms around him and Evie. Tears began to fall from his eyes again but he wasn't worried about them. He knew his friends wouldn't judge him.

He knew his friends would always be there for him.

AN: So I decided to make this a series of OneShots surrounding the friendship of Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos. I'll be taking suggestions for future OneShots so leave them in a review!