Smiling at Everything

Jazz and Zack stepped out of the dressing room together. Jazz had composed herself, her makeup back to the perfection it was. She could do this shoot now. As long as she remembered she was rubbing against Zack, she would be fine. It was unlikely she would have another vivid memory like the one she had in the dressing room. Or she thought it was unlikely. She had never experienced anything like what happened. She wasn't even sure what it was.

Jazz glanced at Zack, the cause of her vicious flashback and her savior from it. On his neck was a patch of irritated skin from the vigorous rubbing he did to remove the mascara. She giggled to herself, remembering the look on his face when she told him there was makeup remover in her purse after he rubbed his skin raw.

"Stop looking at it," Zack commanded.

He could feel her eyes on him and he knew where was looking. She had gotten quite a laugh out of his pain.

"It looks like you have a hickey forming on your neck," Jazz stated.

"They'll think you gave it to me."

"A small price to pay for laughter at your expense."

Zack chuckled, shaking his head. He probably would have continued their banter on any other day. But he was worried. Jazz's freak out in the dressing room was still fresh in his mind. He couldn't help but keep thinking about it. He was scared for her, more scared than he had been when she had her nightmare. What the hell had happened to Jazz?

Jazz and Zack approached Matt, Grim, and Joseph. The three had been monitoring each photo shoot, making sure everything was going according to plan. So far, the other band members had completed there shoots. Jazz and Zack were last, though they had been the easiest to dress.

There had been much more special effects necessary in the shoots before their's.

"Are you two ready?" Joseph asked.

"I guess," Zack answered.

"Well, the crew is finishing your set. It's pretty simple. Just something to resemble a gym coach's office."

Jazz's smile stretched painfully fake on her face. If this looked anything like her old gym coach's office, she wouldn't be able to do it. She couldn't. Or maybe she could. She just needed to make her imagination take over. Plus, she already had a moment to panic about her gym coach. He wouldn't be the source of anymore major mind-lapses for the day and the set wasn't likely to look like her freshman year English teacher's room.

But, if it did, she would have a panic attack to rival the episode in the dressing room.

"How do you want us to start this?" Zack asked.

He could sense Jazz's anxiety. Her body had gone rigid, her smile tighter than it had been. Something he could place as mild worry swam in her eyes. She wouldn't be able to speak for herself even if she tried.

"I think we'll put you sitting at the desk to start and Jazz sitting on the arm of your chair. You guys can have a flirty moment. Then, we'll escalate it from there," Joseph replied.

Zack nodded. He wasn't quite sure how this would go down in Jazz's world but he could deal with the contact they would share. Maybe she could forget whatever it was that happened to her long enough to do the shoot.

"We're ready when you are," the photographer announced.

"Awesome. Get out there so we can finish this set of shoots," Joseph instructed.

The two did as commanded, stepping onto the set. It was simple: a silver desk in front of a fake window with a picture of a gym painted in it, gym equipment littered the floors, on one wall was a large calendar, on the other a bookshelf. It wasn't much but it would do the trick in conveying their scene.

They didn't need more than the desk to get the point across.

"Are you going to be alright?" Zack whispered as he sat in the chair behind the desk.

"I'll be fine," Jazz answered, voice low.

She sat on the arm of Zack's chair, awaiting the okay from Joseph to start. Whether or not she would be okay, they had to do the shoot. There was no way out of it.

"If I give you a bag of Sour Patch Kids after this, will you relax a bit?" Zack asked.

Jazz laughed, her body immediately relaxing. Zack smiled in triumph. She wouldn't have another episode during the shoot. He wouldn't allow her to. He just needed to keep her genuinely happy.

And he didn’t want her to look fake in their pictures.

"Alright, guys," Joseph said into his megaphone, "just act flirty for right now and we'll decide how far we want to take this. We can't sell pornography to your fans. Start acting out the scene when you're ready."

Jazz turned on the flirty charm she knew worked well and looked at Zack, coy smirk on her face, eyes playful. She knew what looks worked in getting men and women attracted to her, what looks gained some form of reaction.

Zack smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. This was the look that must have gained her significant others. It was attractive but there was more to Jazz than just a cute face.

Though he was enjoying the look she was giving him.

For a few minutes, the pair continued their flirtatious act. The camera snapped continuously, capturing each of their moves. Jazz wondered if this was all they would have to do for the shoot. This wasn't as bad as she had assumed.

"Jazz, can we get you laying on the desk with Zack pinning you down?" Joseph asked, voice amplified by his megaphone.

Jazz took a shaky breath, standing from the chair arm and laying on the desk. This was how they took her innocence, how they ruined her life. She pushed the memories from her mind before they could take over. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this.

Zack positioned himself at Jazz's legs, leaning over to pin her arms above her head. He knew, by Jazz's change in demeanor, this wouldn't go according to Joseph's plans.

Jazz's eyes widened as Zack reached for her arms. She let out a sharp "no" and pushed Zack away from her. He stumbled from the desk at the sudden force, falling onto one of the weights positioned on the ground. Groaning, he sat up, rubbing his abused spine.

Jazz sat up, clasping her hands over her mouth. She didn't mean to hurt Zack. It was simply reflex.

"Jazz, what the hell is wrong?" Joseph asked.

"I," Jazz paused, "don't like being on the bottom."

It was the best thing she could come up with on short notice.

Joseph sighed into the megaphone, "Fine. Zack, get on the desk. Jazz, get on top of Zack."

Zack pushed himself to a standing position, one hand on his lower back. He couldn't remember a time he had ever fallen on any of his weights before. After the experience, he decided he never wanted to.

"I'm so sorry," Jazz mumbled, getting off the table to let Zack lay down.

"It's okay, Elvis. You didn't mean to," Zack replied, patting her head before getting positioned on the table.

He couldn't be mad at her for what happened. Something was wrong and she wouldn't let it out. This was only backing up his belief that she had been sexual abused in some way. That stunt had him thinking it was rape or attempted rape. Why else would she not want to be pinned down?

Jazz pushed herself onto the table, straddling Zack, "Are you sure it's okay?"

"Elvis, I'm fine. Calm down," Zack commanded.

"Okay," Jazz mumbled.

"Are you two good now?" Joseph asked.

"Yeah," Zack responded.

"Then let's continue this shoot."

Jazz bit her lip, allowing herself to sit on Zack's crotch. This was the most intimate she had been with a man in awhile. For the first time, she could feel herself getting a little excited.

Zack's hands gripped Jazz's waist, pulling her closer to his body. The back injury meant nothing to him now. Jazz was straddling his waist, staring down at him with an innocent expression. That was all that mattered.