Smiling at Everything

Jazz's smile dropped. He hadn't been that straightforward about her false happiness before. He obviously wasn't just taking a shot in the dark when it came to her fake smile. It had been fake from the time they walked into the penthouse to the point that he snapped at her. Zack knew she was faking and she didn't know how long he knew.

Jazz sighed, walking to the living room area and collapsing in one of the recliners.

"How do you know when they don't?" Jazz asked.

"Would you like to add a little more substance to that question?" Zack asked.

"I thought it was pretty clear. No one in RxN knows my smiles are fake. They're my friends. How do you know when they don't?"

"I guess your friends expect your emotions to change when your mood changes. They won't ask questions unless they can tell something's wrong."

"So how can you tell?"

She knew her friends didn't look past her smile. As long as things seemed to be okay in "Jazz land," they didn't question her. That's how she got away with faking her emotions, how she got away with keeping secrets that were killing her. She didn't know what they would do if they found out. It wasn't like the secrets were outright hurting her. They weren't like Neon's anorexia or Arpeggio's suicide attempt. This was an internal battle that she was losing slowly. How would her band mates react?

"Not to sound like a stalker but I've been watching you," Zack started.

"That sounded stalker-like before it left your mouth," Jazz cut in.

Zack chuckled, "Yeah, I thought it would. But, seriously, there are things you do when your mood changes that people don't pick up on. It surprises me that your fans don't catch it; they do adore you."

Most of her fans were males or females who liked females. They didn't notice anything past the skimpy clothing. Jazz didn’t have many younger fans. She wasn't as easy to relate to as Neon and Arpeggio. To a lot of the RxN fans, she was perfect. Her life, her body, her piano skills, everything was perfect. No one knew the real her.

"I wasn't aware there are things I do when my mood changes," Jazz said.

"Just because you don't realize it doesn't mean someone else won't."

"Who, besides you, would notice?"

Zack shrugged, "Maybe someday someone will notice that your smile doesn't reach your eyes a majority of the time or that you slouch slightly when you're upset. Maybe someone will notice that, when you really smile, your nose crinkles and, when you fake it, your cheeks tighten a little bit. Maybe someone will see that emotions run rampant in your eyes. Maybe someone will ask questions."

"Are you watching me while I sleep too?"

"That's a trick question. According to your band mates, you don't sleep."

Damn, he was good.

"Well, they would be right," Jazz said.

"How do you function?" Zack marveled.

"Caffeine is God's gift to the world."

Jazz didn't know what she would do without highly caffeinated beverages. She was hoping she bought enough so she wouldn't run out during the tour. Sleep couldn't happen. She needed to ward it off as long as she could.

"You're going to die because you drink so much caffeine," Zack stated.

"No, I won't," Jazz denied, "I've built an intolerance to it."

"Like an alcoholic?"

"Yeah. Wait, no. I mean. Well, maybe," Jazz rambled.

"You should stop drinking so much caffeine. I'd hate to see you die because of something so ridiculous."

Jazz rolled her eyes, "Whatever."

She didn't really care if she did die. It would make things easier for her. All the memories that plagued her would be forgotten. She wouldn't have to worry about faking her life. Her friends may be upset for awhile but the band would still thrive. They didn't need a keyboardist that badly. If they did, she could easily be replaced.

But she wasn't planning on committing suicide. If she just so happened to die randomly, she wouldn't mind.

"Why do you drink so much caffeine anyway?" Zack asked.

"So I don't have to sleep."

"And you don't want to sleep because," Zack trailed off.

"Because I'm a vampire."

That had to be the first thing that popped into her head?

"I would have pegged Lestat or Dante as the vampire of the group. Not you."

"Why not me?"

"You're too delicate. You probably couldn't kill a fly."

Jazz scoffed, "Just wait Zack. One day, you'll wake up and I'll be attached to your neck, draining your life-force."

Zack raised an eyebrow at her. He wouldn't mind her sucking on his neck, whether she was trying to kill him or not. She had a sex appeal that couldn't be denied. Maybe she would make a good vampire.

"So what is the real reason you don't sleep?" Zack asked.

"Can we not talk about it?"

She wasn't ready to talk about her nightmares. She wanted to be ready; she wanted to confide in Zack. His muscular arms looked perfect to cry in. But the fact remained that she wasn't.

"Sure," Zack smiled at her.

He couldn't force her to tell him anything. He was lucky she finally admitted her emotions were fake. It was a sign that she was becoming more comfortable with him. Hopefully she would become comfortable enough to tell him everything.

"Thanks," Jazz mumbled.

"Can you tell me why you fake your emotions around everyone? Or would you prefer not to?"

"I'd prefer not to talk about it right now."

"I understand. How about you answer my original question?"

"What was the original question?"

"How could you afford a penthouse at eighteen?"

She forgot he even asked her that. It was technically how the whole conversation started.

"My father has paid the rent since I was eighteen and furnished the penthouse. He's also the one who pays the maids," Jazz said.

"Is he the one who bought your Porsche?" Zack asked.

"No. My mother buys me a Porsche every year. She bought the clothing in half my closet and pays for my personal trainer."

Which reminded her that she needed to call her personal trainer and tell him she wouldn't be around for two months, as well as call her students.

"How the hell do they pay for that?"

"They're plastic surgeons. My stepfather is a lawyer. They're all pretty well off."

Zack leaned back on the couch, mouth opened slightly. Jazz was a rich kid. With the way she dressed daily, he hadn't been expecting it. Maybe the way she dressed was her rebellion against them. But she did say that she didn't dress that way in front of her parents.

"Why do they pay for all of this? You could afford living on your own. You teach and play in a popular band; you make enough money to pay for at least part of what you have," Zack said.

"They've always bought me things. After the divorce, they tried to use money to their advantage. My mother wants me to hate my father and my father wants me to hate my mother. That's why they pay for so much when I tell them I don't need it."

"They'd have to love you a lot to want to pit you against the opposing parent."

Jazz shook her head, "They've never cared much for me. When they bought me things as a kid, it was to keep me away from them. I wasn't exactly planned; they were going to get an abortion but they were too busy with work to take time to do it. They're just doing this to have a sort of victory. It's not about me; it's about them."

Zack couldn't believe it. How could her parents not care for her? How could they not adore her? Jazz was gorgeous, smart, and obviously talented. She was probably like that from the moment she was born. It didn't make sense that they wouldn't care for her.

"Did they ever abuse you?" Zack asked.

"No," Jazz answered quickly, "They would never do that. They wouldn't even talk to me most of the time. My parents may not have loved me but they didn't hate me enough to do that. I just existed in their lives."

"You must not like your parents much."

"I don't feel anything towards them, just like they don't feel anything towards."

Zack let the information sink in. Jazz didn't grow up knowing what family love was. Maybe that was why her emotions around her friends were fake. Maybe she just didn't know how to show emotions properly. But she knew she was being fake so that wouldn't make sense.

"You know what," Zack said, "Why don't we go check out your energy drink stash?"

He could tell the conversation was getting to be too much for her. He felt he needed to lighten things up again.

A smile lit up Jazz's face, "Sure."

And maybe he could show her what it felt like to be loved the right way.