Some days he doesn’t know who he is. 

He believes that he is simply one soul packed next to every other one floating down an endless stream. All of them waiting to die and be reborn then die again.

“Jason…”

Some days he swears that he is nobody, like the faceless men from The Game of Thrones. 

“Jason… Can you hear me?”

Who needs to go through the tortuous training that they put Arya through when you can just lead his life. 

“JASON! For fucks sake just roll the dice.”

Today is not one of those days. Instead Ryder and Elise have just been screaming at him to move the game along. Amazing. 

“I’m getting there. Calm down would ya.”

You would think that he wouldn’t get so caught up in his head. That he would have grown out of the habit by the time he was sixteen. Still apparently he hasn’t. 

Drifting back to reality he cupped the dice in his hands. He needed a clue tile, or a ten so he could go to the library. 

He knows that the murder didn’t take place there but he needs to check out a theory he has regarding the weapon and where’s a better place to do that then a place he has the card for?

All eyes were on him watching intently as he shook the dice, praying to the God of boardgames (if such a thing exists) to let luck fall in his favour. 

“Jason please stop with the ritual and get on with it. Even I'm not this superstitious.” 

Wow Jasper, not cool. What ever happened to trusting the process?

“Excuse you, patience yields focus which in turn brings results. You’ll all be eating your words when I get to the library.” 

Just as he said that he let the dice tumble out of his hands and scatter across the table. 

He did not roll a ten. But he did still get a clue card. So take that Jasper.

Around him he heard Callum sigh and Elise mutter about how it's usually fame that goes to people’s heads not whatever this is.

He didn’t care; he was much too focused on gaining a clue or even potentially figuring out which bloody weapon it was. 

His money was on the candlestick since from what he can tell nobody seems to have it. Still he would rather check that theory before diving in head first with his answer. 

“Look what I found. It couldn’t possibly be. Name one weapon you want revealed. If shown leave card face up on table.”

Wow, maybe there is actually a god of boardgames, or more specifically Cluedo (No Ryder it’s not called Clue and it never will be) because he keeps on getting lucky. 

“Whoever has the candlestick, now’s your time to share… please.” 

His face slowly lit up as his fellow band mates dug through their cards and checked their sheets, none of them able to find the card he requested.

Is this what Christmas feels like for little kids? It must do. Or at least he thinks it does as he ticks the candlestick off on his little piece of paper that Jasper seems to be trying to look at. 

Seriously mate, do it yourself. He wasn’t about to let anyone piggyback off the success of his hard work, even if that person is practically his brother.

He then moved his figurine of Professor Plum a measly three steps further down the hallway before leaning back and letting Callum take his go.

Well at least he was closer to the library, even if he no longer had to go there. 

“Please be a four or a six. Please be a four or a six.” 

Callum muttered the wishes under his breath trying to manifest the numbers he needed. They all have rituals like this, despite what Jasper says. 

Elise clicks his fingers twice before picking the dice up. Ryder has to whistle just as he releases the dice from his hold. Callum talks to the dice. Jason shakes them in a very specific pattern. Even Jasper shakes the dice in a certain way for luck. 

So really Jasper is a massive hypocrite.

Everyone needs luck when it comes to something as intense as a random boardgames night one Saturday evening. That is a fact and a universal truth and Jason will personally fight anyone who insists otherwise. 

To be fair there was nothing on the line except for pride and bragging rights but the competition was fierce. 

“Agh, why a five? Universe I said a four or a six not the stupid number in between them!” 

So maybe they make the game a little too intense, Jason would personally argue that they just add flavour. Usually when he plays Cluedo with his family he slips into his head after his first go. 

Here, well okay he still slips into his head, but it happens less frequently and he would put money on the fact that everyone’s intensity helps him to stay grounded in the moment. 

The very competitive moment. 

Begrudgingly Callum moved his Colonel Mustard piece five spaces, landing himself just at the door of where he wanted to be. 

“This is so stupid. If we just played by the actual rules I could go in.” 

“Now, now Callum, we have all consulted the rule book,” Ryder was trying to explain this calmly, but that was hard to do when they had already had this conversation three times during the game. 

Maybe that's why Elise butted in trying not to let his frustration show, “multiple times.”

“Yes Elise thank you. What I mean to say is that, that’s cheating Callum so stop trying to get us to change our minds about this.”

“Fineeeeeeeee, if I can’t go in imma just make a guess.” 

“Mate, are you sure you want to do that? We are literally only fifteen minutes into the game.” 

Okay so Elise wasn’t close to winning that's for sure. 

They may have only been playing for fifteen minutes but Jason was surprised that more people hadn’t started to form an idea. 

Like they all knew that it was the candlestick, so the rest shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.

Personally the only reason why he hadn’t made a guess already was because he was waiting to fully confirm that it was Dr Orchid. He knew it was her, he just wanted to be confident in his theory before he made the final guess. 

“Okay my guess is that it was Dr Orchid with the candlestick in the kitchen. If I get this wrong someone has tampered with the cards.” 

Callum proudly declares as he dramatically picks up the cards in the middle of the board and begins to inspect them. 

Nothing seemed to distract him, not even Jasper whispering that maybe he’ll get the wrong answer because they have only been playing for twenty minutes.

The tension was high as he went through each of the cards, his face unchanging. That was until he slammed the cards face up back onto the table.

“Orchid, candlestick, kitchen. I win, you may all clean up the game.” 

Callum announced his victory as if it were a royal birth, a grin spread across his face in pride as he gloated. 

“Nope, winner cleans. Still somehow I am both shocked and completely not surprised that you got it this quickly.” Jasper’s weak protests of the victory were quickly joined by his fellow losers telling Callum that it's his duty to pack the board away. 

As Jason put it: “If you didn’t want to clean you shouldn’t have won, responsibility people. It's important.” 

“Since when did you become Inspector Goole?” 

The question has a slightly mocking tone, but Jason knows that Callum wasn’t being rude. Rather he was just joking around. 

They did it all the time after all. Because what is friendship if you can’t insult them to their face and have them not care?

“Since I was forced to read An Inspector Calls in English last year. Now can you clean up?” 

After that Callum sighed and started to shuffle the various game pieces into the battered box that once closed enough went straight back under the sofa. 

“My god doing that in English was a whole new level of trauma.” 

Ryder’s simple statement sparked a whole collective rant of how horrible An Inspector Calls really was. 

Jasper complained about having to do a practice question on Eva Smith, exasperated because “She’s never directly in the play! You only know about her through other people who treated her like shit.” 

They all agreed that studying it was a very effective method of torture. Who needs the threat of being burnt alive when the English Literature GCSE exists? 

Though Jason can’t help but think that they might have all liked the play if they didn’t have to do an exam on it. 

Then it hit him.

“We should write a song about it. Think about it, literally anyone who has been unfortunate enough to experience studying the play will eat it up.” 

The idea came through uncontrolled giggles and snorts. The pitch was kind of a joke after all. There was no way in hell that their producer (aka Ryder’s mum) would let them publish it. 

He didn’t expect everyone to immediately agree to it.

Soon the board games were shunned in favour of notebooks and sheet music. All of them trying to figure out the best way to convey their passionate hate for the subject. 

So far they have managed to personally attack Mr Birling's lack of intelligence and get the quote “I don’t play golf” into the chorus. It was simply too iconic of a line to miss out. 

Not to mention that it's really the only line the teachers ever mention and therefore the only thing any of them remember from their studies of An Inspector Calls. 

They bounced ideas off each other, passing them around like they were on fire. Everyone had something to say, some personal and deep grudge against the play. 

Jason loved it. Because sure sometimes he felt like he was nobody but with them he never would. 

They are far too chaotic to allow him to forget about his own existence.