Demon Boyfriend: Jolly Jay 2 (complete)

Female Main Character x Male Reader

The Jolly Jay Smile Hour is one of the highest-rated programs on the radio, and Jay’s soothing voice is a welcome presence in most people’s lives. I know there are even GIU cabinet members who listen to the show, and in fact, I’ve been made very aware of which ones they are. Thanks to the new equipment that Jay was updated with quite regularly, he’s reaching a wider audience, and more GIU loyalists are tuning in to listen to his messages of happiness.

Jolly Jay is your friendly neighbor, and he always starts and ends his shows by saying that. But as someone who does live in close proximity to Jay, even if I do like him, I am aware of the less savory nature of him and his cohorts. They don’t seem to really want to spread the message that Jay puts out every day, hence the scripts he’s sent in his packages every morning, but the cynic buried beneath my fake smiles loves this. The lilac-and-yellow suits have brought me into their world, and I like it. I try to keep my head above their murky waters for my own sake, but because I am ‘the Keeper’, I wield authority over them as well. I just try to keep my nose out of whatever business they are up to.

I still enjoy my friendship with Jay, and we have long conversations after his broadcasts. I even have a table set up near his door so I can have meals with him. He’s told me that, out of all the keepers he’s had, the bond he feels with me is deeper than all the others. The lilac-and-yellow suits have moved him around over the years, experimenting with who best suits him should he ever need to be held, as he terms it. He said in the beginning, back when the GIU was amassing power, he was often placed with men who barely spoke to him. After war broke out, he was placed with a female secretary under his old keeper, and they formed a bond. He was also placed with a young girl at one point as an experiment, and it was finally determined that he bonded well with women, although he was still mostly looked after by men

Why I was chosen was still a mystery to me. Perhaps it was because of my home and massive basement, or maybe my family has connections to this lilac-and-yellow suit organization. Like I said, I’m going to put my nose too far into this. I just want to see the surface level of everything.

One afternoon, I’m working with Matilda on fixing up one of the rooms. I rented it to a lovely couple and a few of their friends, but they left it in such a state that they purchased me a new mattress and frame before they checked out. I’m helping Matilda with that while listening to Jay’s show.

“Now, for today’s poetry reading.” Jay always does a poetry reading during his broadcasts, as part of the mental wellness regime required by GIU law. “I’ve never seen my lover’s gaze, as she weeps with…” The broadcast cuts out, and Jay’s voice crackles and vanishes into a blur of static and feedback. Between the squeals, I think I hear Jay reciting on. Matilda turns it off and sniffs. “It happens. Sometimes a drone just flies into things,” she scoffs.

I try to focus so I can hear Jay downstairs, but between Matilda sweeping and the creaking of the old hardwood floors, everything is silent. I go back to putting the bed together, and Matilda dumps disinfectant onto the floor.

After we’re done, I go to my room to clean up from the sweaty work. I turn on the radio to hear Jay purring into the mic. “Thank you all for your lovely mail this week. I do enjoy reading your letters, and I love seeing how happy you all are with the show. I’m thrilled that I can pass that joy back to you through my broadcasts. But I must speak of something serious right now.”

I glance at the radio as I mop my face with a cold, damp cloth. Something serious?

“As some of you may be aware, this coming Sunday is the anniversary of the first broadcast of my program! All this week, I have some very special things planned to show my appreciation to you. Hopefully, we’ll all be better people by the end of the week. I’m very grateful to you for letting me be your neighbor.”

That evening, when I go down for our meal together, he’s already waiting for me. The latch is open and he waves his long, strange fingers at me. “Good evening, Imelda.”

“Good evening to you.” I hand him his plate of food. “I wasn’t aware it was your anniversary this week. You’ve never announced that before.”

“So you heard.” He pulls in his plate.

“I did! Congratulations, how many years has it been?” I sit down at my little table with my plate.

“As Jolly Jay? Far too long,” he chuckles.

My brow purses. I wonder if he’s used another persona before. “I never got to hear the poem today, and that’s usually my favorite part. What happened? It sounded like something went wrong with the equipment.”

I can hear Jay’s tray clatter inside his room. “I can read it to you now, if you like.”

“The poem? Yeah, that would be nice.” I’m more curious about the technical difficulty, as it’s the first I’d heard during his show. But the poem would probably be better.

Jay clears his throat. “I’ve never seen my lover’s gaze, as she weeps with joy from summer days. Although she brings me thoughts I love, she’ll never…” He stops suddenly and sighs. “This is trite.”

“What? No, go on!”

“I’m serious.” There goes that heavy tone again. “You know there’s better poetry out there than this shit.” He chuckles. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to share something with you.”

“Really?” I get up to approach the door where his empty plate and tray sit. I always wonder how he eats so fast. He holds out a small book to me. “Have you ever heard of Keats?”

I take the book, seeing that the cover is faded from years of use and the spine frayed at the top and bottom. Inside some pages have been taped back together, and many pages are marked and dog-eared. “He’s on the banned list.” All my life, all I ever wanted was books to line my walls. But over the years, more and more books have been banned and placed onto the registry by the GIU. I only have a few, and most of them have been written by GIU loyalists.

“Who isn’t?” Jay chuckles. “In there, you’ll find real poetry. Poetry I love. Words that have meaning.”

“How long have you had this?” I ask.

“Too long,” Jay sighs. “Far too long.”

I glance through the pages until I see a date printed near the back. “That’s strange,” I murmur. “This book was printed ten years after the ban registry was created. That would be impossible.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This book couldn’t have been printed,” I murmur. “All works were destroyed, so there’s no way…” I stop and close the book so I no longer have to focus upon the date. “How did you get this?”

“I brought it from home.”

I use my key to open the top window of the door and already Jay bent down looking through it. That bright yellow mask with that garish grin painted on it leers at me. “You know I hate prying, Jay.”

“I do. You’ve kept your nose clean for a keeper. Most usually succumb to the mystery,” he chuckles. “Read that book, though. Ignore the date. Just imagine what it would have been like to read this in school.”

“What else do you have in there?” I ask.

“Whatever I need.” He reaches through the bottom window and touches my hand. “Except for you.”

I give him a harsh look. “You can do better than that.”

He breaks into a laugh. “I thought it would be romantic!”

I smile softly at him, taking his hand and brushing my fingers against his palm. “I have the keys to open this door anytime, Jay.”

“I know, and that gives me hope. But that’s just the Pandora's box I do not want to open, my Imelda.”

I frown. “Who’s Pandora?”

Jay sighs heavily. “One second.” He leaves briefly, returning with another book for me. “It’s in the third chapter, and I suggest you indulge in mythology as much as the poetry. Both are full of multiple meanings.”

“I know that you’re full of them, that’s for certain.” I take the book and smile at him. “Thank you. Hopefully I’ll enjoy this.”

“I know you will.”

That evening I lie in bed with the books. I check the print date of the mythology book and find it was also printed long after the ban registry. Is there an illegal press somewhere run by the lilac-and-yellow suits? That would be logical. But why print the dates? It makes no sense to me. It’s like these objects come from some other place. Jay is so strange, what if this isn’t his world exactly?

I decide that reading it is better than ruminating. I find the Pandora’s Box myth, in which a young woman is given a jar containing sickness, death, and all the other evils of the world. She is convinced to open the jar, plagued by the mystery of what’s inside, and when she opens it all the contents spill out, save one. Hope remains inside - although the word has been scratched out and written above it is ‘deceptive expectation’. I flip through the book and come upon a page covered in eyes. The chapter is titled ‘Argus Pantopes’. Eyes are drawn all over every page. They’re quite distressing to look at after a while, so I close the book again.

I fall asleep that night, but the eyes follow me into my dreams. They’re all around me, unblinking, and they form a long hallway for me to go down. I walk slowly and the pupils dilate, fixed upon me as I walk. They squint and roll around, but never close. I can sometimes hear their wet sockets squelching as they turn to follow me. I grit my teeth and stiffen my jaw like always. They can’t see me frown, but I don’t wish to smile. I reach the end of the hall, and a giant eye opens before me. I feel sick looking at it. The pupil opens up, and a jar falls out and rolls to my feet. The jar rattles and whispers to me with many voices, asking me to pick it up. The giant eyes stare back at me and I hear something breathe all around me.

I wake with a start, hearing the emergency intercoms blaring outside. The GIU Majority cabinet leader, Samuel Greene, has died and mourning hours are being established to honor his passing. I slouch back into bed, taking a deep breath. Good riddance, I think. If more of those GIU people die, the better.

It isn’t long before the world is whispering about his death. Some suspect he has gone into hiding, and others claim that he was murdered. I know it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing such things, but there is no way he could have been murdered. He’s far too protected. He was one of the most unreachable men on the planet. Hiding was plausible, but that begs more questions.

I deliver Jay his meal, and place the book of mythology on the tray at the base of the food slot. “Did you enjoy reading it last night?” he asks

“I liked understanding what you were telling me, but the stories gave me nightmares,” I confess.

“Really?”

I frown, not liking to admit this. “The chapter covered in eyes bothered me.”

“I see.” He takes the book. “I am sorry it reached you in an unfavorable way. Perhaps you can try it another time.”

“I’m still reading the poetry. I’d prefer to focus on that.” I decide to bring up the news about GIU leader Greene. “Did you hear who died?”

“I did,” Jay says dismissively. “I’m surprised they announced it so soon.”

“So soon?” I repeat. “What do you mean?”

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just thought they liked to keep these things under their hats until they could proceed. I suppose I’ll be dedicating a block of my broadcast to him,” he sighs. “Pity. I do so hate talking about dead old men.”

“Who doesn’t?” I watch the door, almost expecting eyes to open up behind the window.

“Is there anything else, Imelda?” Jay asks.

“Lots of things,” I murmur. “But the water is too deep for me right now.”

“I’m always here for you,” he says. “You don’t need to worry about drowning. You are my keeper.”

I walk away silently, still bothered by my dream and haunted by the eyes. I go back upstairs, where I can hear funereal music playing through the intercoms outside. At least I don’t have to smile while they play. That’s probably the best thing to come out of today. I close down for the day in a show of respect, but really I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I sit in my room and turn on the radio, hoping to drown out the sound of the music.

“... and taking that into account, let us begin our day, dear neighbors. I know we have all been made aware of the sad news early this morning. My heart goes out to the family and colleagues of Leader Greene. His hard work and dedication to the Government of Immaculate Unity has been nothing but inspirational. His presence will be sorely missed, as will his…”' The radio crackles again, popping and clicking as the signal fades in and out. Jay’s voice becomes distorted. There’s a sound like screaming in the background, some interference, I’m sure.

I go downstairs to see if there’s something wrong, perhaps something I can help fix outside. As I come to Jay’s door, though, it’s silent. I can sometimes hear him talking during his broadcasts, even through the floor. Yet there’s no sound from his room. I open the top window with my keys and when I peer inside, his room is empty. I hear the static of the radio hissing, burbles of frequencies. I stand on tiptoe so I can see into the room better. Turning my head, I can see part of his work area, the foot of his bed, with the blankets falling off the end. I see Jay’s yellow suit hanging on the back wall as if he’s standing there. “Hello?” I call softly. “Jay?”

The radio hisses. I take my keys and unlock the rest of the locks for the very first time. The door opens with a gentle push, and I step inside his room. I hold my breath as I stand in the doorway. His workstation, which I couldn’t see through the window, is empty. All the equipment is against the far wall, the mic, the recording setup, and his mask.

His bed is destroyed. Blankets and pillows are strewn about on top of it, while the mattress looks clawed and shredded. There is a chest beside it, with books strewn around the base. His suit hanging on the wall is undamaged, bright yellow against the dark gray walls. It reminds me of the sun rising from the sea. My chest is trembling, fearful of being caught. But where is Jay? There was no possible way for him to leave this room.

I approach his desk, moving aside his chair as I stand over it. His mask smiles up at me with that wicked grin. His script is under it, but I’m afraid to touch the mask. I pull the script out from underneath, letting the mask clatter onto the desk. The front page looks normal, although there is some writing on it I can’t read. Inside, I see eyes scribbled along the margins. The script reads exactly as he had spoken it, even the impromptu announcement of Leader Greene’s death. But it was only announced this morning, and the script had been delivered earlier than that.

Underneath the announcement is a few lines of code, and looking at the keyboard on his desk, I see that the code matches buttons there. I set the script down, placing it back while moving the mask back over it. I’ve gotten too deep, I warn myself. Go now, get out of the water. I turn to leave when the radio crackles and pops again.

“Sorry for the disruption, ladies and gentleman and everything in between. We’re going to take a small break to fix it, and we’ll be right back to finish our tribute to Leader Greene. Thank you for your understanding.”

I stand between the door and his voice, unable to turn and look back. There’s a click, and Jay’s chair squeaks as he moves it back. I count each footstep as it approaches before Jay’s hands come to rest on my shoulders. “You’re drowning,” he whispers into my ear.

I’m  here already, I think, so might as well. I look over my shoulder to see the eyes staring at me. “Thank god you’re here.”

Jay’s hands squeeze down on my shoulders. “Where else would I go?”