jakov didn’t mind, neither did he care about his parents hating his girlfriend. what would they do? nothing. they’d just wipe their tears away with thin golden bars, their tears costing a fortune too.

he wouldn’t deny but he wouldn’t admit of the nepotism he grew up with, he had everything he wanted, he had attention that he wanted but the only reason he made it was because of his parents.

he barely made music at this point, he just attended modelling events and interviews. he became more of a model rather than a rapper or singer or whatever jakov claims to be.

jakov didn’t talk about religion, barely knew anything about his religion but he knew what a shiksa was and what it meant. it meant you. you’re.. not jewish. that’s why his parents and his whole family dislikes you.

hell, half of the men in his family are rabbi’s and he was just there.

he got up from the couch, his cigarette hanging low between his dry and chapped lips, his hair was a mess and his pants hung low on his hips, making his way outside, to the balcony, where you were. you found out what shiksa meant and you were rather upset then mad.

jakov stood next to you, leaning against the railing. “come on, i thought you knew from the start.” he murmured, his comments not helping at all. “they clearly didn’t like you from the beginning.”