Smiling at Everything

Jazz sped through the city streets to Zack's apartment after the dinner. Her thoughts were stuck on the scene Joseph had decided they would portray, not on the man beside her. The idea of the scene would not leave her mind. She was going to portray a teacher-student affair.

It would have been more true to life if the experience portrayed was rape.

She couldn't do this shoot, not without breaking down. The idea of the shoot was bad enough. Memories continued to resurface as she drove. They wouldn't even let up during dinner. No matter how many times she tried to force them down, the memories continued to encompass her mind. She didn't even think she would be able to sleep that night.

Zack eyed Jazz while she drove, debating on taking the wheel from her so they wouldn't wreck. The second they were out of view of their band mates, she crumbled. She had been leaning against her parked car, sobbing for over fifteen minutes before she calmed and they could leave. They hadn't even been on the road for longer than a couple of minutes and he was afraid she would run them off into a ditch.

It wasn't that her driving was flawed. No, she drove immaculate, just as she did everything else. But she was shaking. Her whole body was suffering from a set of tremors. The worst part was that she hadn't said a word. Throughout dinner, she hadn't said anything. While she was sobbing, not a word left her lips. When they got in the car, nothing.

"Jazz," Zack whispered, hoping to gain some response from the shaken up female.

She made a noise, signaling that she had heard him over the ruckus in her brain. Zack sighed. She would be harder to communicate with than he thought.

"I want you to pull over," Zack commanded.

The request didn't process properly in her mind. It made absolutely no sense. They weren't even close to Zack's apartment yet. Though the fog in her brain was making it difficult to concentrate, she knew she was driving decent.

Noticing her hesitation, Zack repeated, "Pull over."

Jazz did as he commanded, pulling into a random business' parking lot and stopping the car in one of the spots. She turned to face him, the confusion clear across her face.

"I don't feel comfortable with you driving right now," Zack stated.

Jazz opened her mouth to respond; Zack held up a finger to signal he wasn't finished.

"You're upset. There's no way you can deny it, so don't try. I don't know what's wrong but I can not have you driving while you're in this state. We can do this a number of ways. It's all up to you on what you feel comfortable with," Zack said.

Jazz stared at Zack. He wasn't doing this to hurt her. That was obviously not his intention. He cared about her well-being. No man that she could remember cared about her well-being as much as he did. In fact, no one cared about her that much.

"Okay," Jazz mumbled.

Zack smiled in victory, "I'm not letting you drive home by yourself. So I can drop you off at your house and pick you up in the morning; we could pick up my bags from my apartment and I can sleep at your penthouse; or we could pick up your stuff from your penthouse and you can stay with me. It might be better for you to stay at my apartment. I live closer to the building we're taking the pictures in and we would be able to use my car to get there. I know you don't want your friends to see your car."

Jazz had gone out of her way to park her car as far away from her friend's cars as possible at the restaurant. Though she hadn't told Zack that she didn't want them to see her car, he had caught on quickly. He had a feeling she was a bit ashamed of how expensive the things she owned were.

Jazz thought over her options. She couldn't expect Zack to wake up earlier than necessary to pick her up from her house to get to the photo shoot. She would have preferred the option but she couldn't be that rude. Which of the last two options she picked didn't matter; Zack would be near her regardless.

But she didn't know if she could deal with either. It wasn't that she didn't trust Zack. He had made it clear that her sanity was something he was worried for. The nightmares were the problem. She knew she would have them if she let herself sleep and she had to let herself get at least an hour of sleep before the tour. She didn't want Zack to see the aftereffect of the nightmares; the sobbing, the shaking, the paranoia. She didn't want anyone to witness that.

"I have nightmares," Jazz mumbled, looking at her hands.

"What?" Zack asked.

"I have bad nightmares. I suppose they're more like night terrors but 'nightmare' makes them sound less scary."

"Is that why you try not to sleep?"

Jazz nodded, keeping her eyes on her hands. She was letting him into her life a little more. It was impossible to believe that she trusted anyone that much, let alone that she trusted any man that much.

"What do you have nightmares about?" Zack asked.

Jazz shrugged. She didn't know what to tell him. The truth surely wasn't going to come out yet. She wasn't ready yet. At some point, she was sure she would tell him, assuming he wouldn't get tired of trying to help her. And, if she did tell him, she hoped he wouldn't hate her.

"You can tell me. I promise no one else will find out," Zack said.

"Just about what happened in the past and what will happen if they’re released."

"Who are they and what would they be released from?"

Zack was starting to get the feeling he knew what happened to Jazz but he couldn't just make assumptions. Whatever it was, he knew it was bad enough to cause Jazz's mental state to become a complete wreck. She couldn't sleep, she thought about it constantly, her emotions were an awkward mess. He was also aware there was more than one person involved, which is what threw him off from his assumption. He thought he had her problem figured out when their photo shoot topic was announced. Maybe he was wrong.

"No one; nothing," Jazz replied.

"Not ready to talk about it?" Zack asked.

Jazz shook her head. Zack had learned enough for the day; she didn't need to tell him anything else. Not now. He'd likely witness her nightmare that night or early that morning.

"How long have you been having nightmares?" Zack asked.

"Since seventh grade. They didn't start getting bad until I hit my sophomore year. And lately I haven't been able to sleep without having one."

"What triggered them to get worse?"

Jazz shrugged her shoulders. She had no idea what caused her nightmares to occur everytime she fell asleep; that happened sometime during Neon's pregnancy. Before then, she got sleep without nightmares every now and then.

"So can I ask what brought on this mini-confessional?" Zack asked.

"If I'm sleeping over at your apartment, you have to know I have nightmares in case I wake you up," Jazz stated.

Of the options, it was the better one. Sleeping at Zack's apartment didn't inconvenience him as much as the other two. Plus, in the event that she didn't have a nightmare, she would be able to get more sleep.

Zack's smile returned, "Well, if you're nightmares decided to haunt you, I'll be there to ward them off."

Jazz's heart thumped hard against her chest; heat spread through her cheeks. A set of nerves awoke in her stomach, nerves that she hadn't felt since she had a crush on that Matthew boy in elementary school.

Oh dear Lord, she had a legitimate crush on Zack.