Ever wonder how in the hell Jay's death goes? well do I HAVE A STORY FOR YOOUUUU!!! INTRODUCING HIS NEW CAUSE OF DEATH WOAH!!!! !
TW: Alcohol abuse, Drug abuse, suicide/suicidal tendencies, self harm, overdose mention, gore, ???
Quick note?? All of this is canon, yes he dies like this ;P LOLZIES!!!!! ALso if its all over the place i apologize i am fighting a moth while writing this /srs
kinda curious to know how anyone reacts to it, so... if you wanna put that down or make a post go for it, honestly im kinda considering having this be my closing post but idk yet lol </3
The sound of a gunshot can never be heard over crowds laughing and music blasting.
Fireworks in the air, water from the pool splashing... The loud BANG deaf to everyone's ears.
How could we know that? The only way it was learned was finding the body of Mr. Jay Gatz. In the highest point of his manor, overlooking the crowd below...
Let's start from square one.
Jay felt... Unwanted. Alone, if you will. As a man who's built himself and his business up only for the sake of overthrowing others, he wasn't the most enjoyed man around. Normally he would've handled this by now. The dread, the self pity, everything he had thought about himself was always kept inside. Why not now?
Standing alone, pathetic... In the office he had to himself. Bookcases covering the walls of obscure novels that he hasn't even read, a desk holding messy stacks of various papers, making him feel even worse about himself. A never ending ringing phone before he cut it, the gusts of wind blowing from the outside rustling against the curtains behind him. What a pitiful life.
An outsider. That's all he was, wasn't he? Standing up on that balcony of his, absent to anyones attention besides the solemn glow of the moon above him, and even that was leaving him soon. The fireworks lit up the mansion, the people below, the water, and the champagne bottles crashing and being tossed around to be used. He lit a cigarette, holding it for just a moment then he took a drag.
...After another drag, and another, and another... He put out the cigarette... On his own arm. He winced at the burning feeling against his skin, but another scar wouldn't hurt... Right? Scars were littered all over his body anyway, just another part of him to be ruined. He lit another cigarette then walked inside to grab a bottle of vodka from his own personal storage of alcohol. Never touched unless he was feeling more pathetic than other nights.
Ha, maybe this time he can drink himself to death. Or maybe Perkins will call the ambulance again. Jay hoped to whatever god there was above he wouldn't survive this time. His shaky hands moved to the bottle, bringing it up to his lips before pausing. A week of sobriety.
...He can restart another day. Or in another life, perhaps.
He took a drink. The burn of the alcohol going down his throat being a feeling of discomfort but satisfaction was one that he had somehow managed to miss. Gatz went back out to the balcony, drinking away his sorrows before he couldn't even find himself having any emotion anymore. The rich man could barely hear the knocks at the door, let alone the sound of a man calling for his name.
Soon enough, the door opened unbeknownst to Jay. The only thing that managed to get his attention was a quiet voice coming from the darkened room, lit by only one light. But now... There was another. Then another light on as the person flicked on the light switches. ...Perkins.
➳ ❜ Ah, Jay! I was worried about you, sir! Are you doing alright up here? It's quite... Quiet up here. ❛
No response. Jay turned back to stare into nothing.
➳ ❜ Oh, I see... Maybe you should sit down, I can grab you some tea and- ...Well, maybe not any medicine, I don't want to... Let that happen again. ❛
It wasn't needed to be discussed anymore, it was obvious Perkins was referring to the prior... Attempts Jay had made. In an attempt, Perkins had tried his best to hide anything that Jay could use to end things. As of now, it was working. With a slow approach, Perkins had walked over to Jay. Placing down the lantern he held with a small blow to put it out, he found himself standing next to his boss. Or, rather, his semi-adopted son.
The silence felt like a million years. Perkins, thinking of how to approach this properly, feeling the fatherly need to sit there and just be someone for Jay to lean on, but he knew it wasn't a night for that. All he knew is that he could NEVER leave Jay alone in a state like this. He heard a small mutter of a sob coming from next to him.
╰┈➤ ❜ ...Perkins... Can we go inside? ❛
➳ ❜ Of course my boy. ❛
Jay tiredly swung his arm around Perkins shoulders as he got guided back into the office, letting the shorter man take the vodka from his bruised and shaky hand. Within the next minute or so, he found himself sitting in the rather comfortable office chair he had right infront of his desk. Almost immediately he put his arms down on the desk and put his head down on them, shielding his face in some form of fear of what'll happen next.
➳ ❜ Jay- ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ You can leave now Perkins. ...I'm fine on my own. ❛
➳ ❜ I'm worried, my boy. I can't just leave you like this. Not because it's my job but it's because I care- ❛
Jay's body tensed. Perkins froze as he could practically feel the cold emotion that came from the man right next to him.
╰┈➤ ❜ You don't have to lie to me, Perkins. ❛
Silence. Jay thought he had left, but he hadn't. When Jay lifted up his head he saw Perkins sitting quietly next to him. ...Looks like he's here for a while.
╰┈➤ ❜ ...Am I gonna be left alone forever, Perkins? ❛
➳ ❜ Oh- of course not! You have plenty of people who would love to be around you - ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ ...Then why has everyone left me? ...Everyone except you. I can't keep being alone like this. ❛
➳ ❜ I know, I know... And I'm not getting any younger... But trust me, I won't leave you all alone. You don't deserve that. ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ ... ❛
Jay stood up, then went to grab another bottle of vodka. Perkins got up to take the bottle, only for Jay to look down with a look he has only seen a few times. He was desperate for some form of numbing. ...Perkins sighed. He held up a single finger to signal he can only have one glass.
Jay agreed.
He got the glass and drank it quickly as if it were medicine. And it has been his medicine. Ever since he was younger, more vulnerable. Manipulated, oblivious, it's always been his escape.
╰┈➤ ❜ ...If I were to give you the rest of my wealth, would you let me die? ❛
Silence. Shock. A beat went by.
➳ ❜ Of course not. I wouldn't let you die at all. ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ Oh. ❛
Jay was quiet again. He exhaled and took a drag of the cigarette he had lit earlier. Blowing it out, he looked to the floor with some thought. Jay then opened a drawer in the desk, rummaging around then he let a metal item clatter into the desk.
A gun.
Perkins froze. He took a step forward and Jay put his hand on the gun. Not as a warning to Perkins, but to himself. The blond male slowly picked it up and showed that it was loaded.
╰┈➤ ❜ I was told I needed therapy. You know, I think I’m too far gone. What’s the point of it if im just a lost cause? I’ve been crying and telling too many people my sob story. At this point this… This is better. ❛
➳ ❜ No you’re not too far gone, Jay. …Put down the gun, okay? We can talk about this- ❛
The now slowly breaking millionaire then stood up sharply, stepping back. He took the gun along with him. Then… He snapped. Immediately bursting into tears, he found himself breaking every pushing second. His hands shaking more, he held the gun up to his own head.
╰┈➤ ❜ Talk about what, Perkins? How long have you tried to help me? I’ve been nothing but a waste of time, and god… God I BET if I just- if I just SHOT myself RIGHT NOW, NOBODY OUT THERE WILL HEAR OR CARE, RIGHT?! Who’d go to my funeral? You? Who else? Huh? ❛
Silence. Perkins simply walked over and hugged Jay, catching him off guard. Jays body tensed up again, trying to find a way to keep his composure but failing miserably. The gun slightly moved away from his head, then it sharply went back.
One last exhale, and one last sentence.
╰┈➤ ❜ If you want me to live another day, I need you to start running. Get to the nearest phone. ❛
God, why was he doing this? Why was he trying to help himself? He knew he’d die by then. Somehow, Perkins listened and immediately rushed to the nearest phone only to see Jay had cut the line, then opened the door to go outside. Jay stared.
The door closed, leaving Jay alone.
…Then the gun went off.
Silence. Darkness. Not a feeling. Just… emptiness.
When the paramedics got there Jay was already as dead as can be as he laid in Perkins arms. He had staged it as a murder, writing to Perkins in a final note to never specify it was suicide, but say it was homicide. The people wouldn’t care how he died.
The sight was grim. His only butler making an effort to help, holding him up as if he were still going to live. It was a desperate attempt, really, like a father begging to bring his son back from the dead. The once lively millionaire deceased, his body tense and the blood and brain matter pooling from his head onto the fur rug he had died on. His eyes were still open, only this time they were a monotone and distant blue with less saturation than ever. His skin was pale, suit tattered most likely from the fall. The cigarette lay on his hand, slowly burning at the skin. As he lay there, people were crowded around. Some were investigators, others were people who simply wanted to see. Others taking photos to post on the papers as soon as possible.
…And now Perkins was left to handle the rest of the work Jay had set up.
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