"Are you okay?" Jaden asked as Chazz sat down at their table, staring a hole into his bowl of soup.

"No!" Chazz told him. "I'm better than okay! I'm great!"

Charles "Chazz" Princeton was born into the Princeton family, a family bent on world domination. His older brothers had it all planned out, and his life had been determined for him before he'd been born.

They were going to conquer all matters of life: political, financial, dueling.

And that meant Chazz had to be the perfect little brother. No mistake could be tolerated.

Of course that applied to the dueling field, since dueling domination was the task that had been given to him. A loss for Chazz was a loss for the family, and they made sure he knew it.

But, no, dueling perfection wasn't enough. Chazz had to be perfect in every aspect of his life. From the big things, including his own politics and finance, to the little things, like table etiquette.

Even table etiquette.

Chazz couldn't even mess up at a dinner his family went out to (with other groups, of course, the Princetons could never just enjoy a meal together as a family) without being an embarrassment to the Princeton name.

So, by the age of five, Chazz was an expert in proper table etiquette. He knew about soup spoons and salad forks and what utensils to use when, what to do with them when he was done. He sat his napkin in his lap and knew how to elegantly wipe his mouth as he ate, making sure no crumb remained on his face.

He couldn't do that much, either. By the time he finished eating, he usually ended up with something spilled in his lap, something all over his face. Was that normal for kids? He had no idea. He was never allowed to be normal.

He was only ever allowed to be perfect.

Then the script for his perfect life that he hadn't been so perfect at had been ripped out of his hands, and he'd been kicked out of the production.

You could take the Chazz out of the Princetons, but training the Princeton out of Chazz was harder. He grew up that way, he didn't know how to be anything else. Losing duels didn't bother him quite as much anymore, but it stuck with him in little ways. His food preferences, the way he walked, the way he could only look at his future five steps ahead instead of looking at his next step, the way he ate.

Even the way he ate.

Chazz Princeton sat down in the Slifer cafeteria, surrounded by Jaden, Syrus, and Chumley, and sat his napkin in his lap and cut everything with a knife and fork, even the fried shrimp because getting his own hands dirty from food was unacceptable, and chewed as he stewed over his latest duel losses. Those losses still bothered him. Just not as much as they used to before.

No one really called him out on it. It's probably what they expected from Obelisk Blues.

Then, one day, the Slifers were having soup for dinner. Chazz had gotten a bowl of it and was on his way to sit down when he tripped. His bowl fell, turned upside down, and his soup was all over the floor.

His first instinct was to locate something to clean it up with. A towel, paper towels, napkins if he was desperate. Get a new bowl of soup, act like it never happened.

Because he had to be perfect, right?

Rage that had been building up in Chazz for weeks now spilled over the edge as he stared at the soup covered floor.

He was so tired of trying to be perfect, because he wasn't. Chazz wasn't perfect! He could act like it and say he was all he wanted. But clearly he wasn't, or he never would've ended up here, not like this. Perfect kids don't get disowned by their families.

He was tired of trying to be perfect, and he was tired of acting like he was.

And the best way to stop being something he wasn't was to throw his tray to the ground, take off his jacket, and use it like a towel to wipe up the soup.

...Wait, what?

He didn't question it until he was already on the ground doing it. But now he was pretty sure that for a second there, he completely lost it. His own confusion drowned out the jeers and jokes from some of the people surrounding him (including Syrus).

But then he rolled with it. He finished cleaning up, put his jacket back on like it wasn't drenched with soup, picked up his bowl and tray, and filled his bowl up with another serving of soup like none of that had just happened.

His brothers had wanted him to be a perfect, pristine child.

What better way to spit in their faces than to become a disgusting slob with no sense of hygiene?

This was the Chazz way now, and the world better get used to it.

there's this one part of tag force where when you talk to syrus at dinner time he's like "i watched chazz spill something and wipe it up with his sleeve lol gross" and first of all (chazz voice) sleeves are nature's napkins! but then my brain was like, hey why don't we explore that and be sad about that. i said okay.

there wasn't originally going to be two chapters to this. but i think i mentioned in chapter 1 (which was originally just, the fic) that there was stuff that got left out because it went a different direction than i first intended? this is essentially the stuff that got left out. put this together real quick bc it wouldn't leave me. i love chazz,

(don't...expect any more chapters though this is it)

thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed this bonus chapter! may winged kuriboh smile down on you