Smiling at Everything

Jazz walked up the pavement to the front door of Neon's home. She had spent thirty minutes closing the shop and about fifteen walking back home. Her body was no longer clothed in the professional clothing she wore to give lessons. Instead she wore a fitted, black Ozzy Osbourne shirt and dark wash jeans with a large number of bracelets adorning her arms. Air hit the inch of stomach that the shirt exposed and ran down the cleavage that she and Neon had cut into the shirt long ago. It was too hot to be dressed completely in dark colors. She had walked the entire way to Neon's house in the July heat.

The keyboardist opened Neon's front door without knocking. The sound of excited talking met her ears. She took a breath, smiled, and walked into the living room. Like Dorian said, the room was filled with RxN members, All Time Low members, their managers, and the significant others of the band members that had them.

She knew how to fake it so each one thought she was happy.

"Hey, Jazz," Neon said from her spot on the couch.

"Hey, party people," Jazz returned.

The baby in Neon's arms wiggled around in excitement.

"Well, hello, Novella. Where's your brother?" Jazz cooed to the six month old.

Novella giggled happily, enjoying the attention she was receiving.

"Alex is changing Armand," Neon replied.

Six months prior, Neon gave birth to fraternal twins. The first being a beautiful baby boy and the second being an almost identical baby girl. Despite the defining parts of their genders, the two could be mistaken for identical twins at such a young age. Both babies had a head of light brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the same dimpled smile.

"I told you, you have him whipped," Jazz joked.

"He's my husband. He wouldn't be getting any if he didn't help with the twins," Neon responded.

Neon and Alex sealed their relationship in marriage a month after the babies were born. Pink hair never looked better on any other bride. The band forced the pair to go on a honeymoon when the babies hit five months. Jazz babysat them while their parents were away. It was the only reason she could tell the difference between the twins and no one else in the band could.

"Threatening his dick's happiness, very nice," Jazz joked.

"It's effective," Neon said.

"Hey, Jazz, guess what," Dorian yelled.

"The Rainbow Twizzlers are taking over the universe?" Jazz exclaimed.

Dorian gasped, "How did you know?"

"I can read your brain."

"Must be an easy read," Lestat commented.

"You are so strange," Neon mumbled, loud enough for Jazz to hear.

Strange was the only way any of her band mates could describe her. Jazz was used to it. She rather be called strange then have them know. It had been years since the events happened and she was still torn apart.

But they could never tell.

"Armand is changed and happy," Alex said, walking into the room with a baby on his hip.

He stopped, noticing the last member who would be showing up at the get together had arrived.

"Hey, Jazz," Alex said.

At the sound of her name, the baby Alex was holding perked up. His blue eyes landed on Jazz. The baby began jumping in Alex's hold, cooing and gurgling happily.

"I swear, they're first word isn't going to be 'mama' or 'dada,' it'll be 'Jazz,'" Neon commented.

"Actually, I'm trying to teach them to say their sibling's name so they can have conversations with each other and annoy the crap out of you two," Jazz said.

Her real intention behind it was just that she thought it would bring them closer together. Jazz never had a younger or older sibling; she wanted to make sure the twins were close enough to tell each other everything. They couldn't end up like Arpeggio and Neon did. They surely couldn't end up like Jazz had, wishing for a sibling to tell her secrets to.

"Listening to them screech one another's name? Sounds fascinating," Alex said.

Armand reached towards Jazz, whining in hopes of getting his father to understand. Alex walked to the couch and let the baby slip into Jazz's waiting hands, who clutched onto Jazz's neck immediately.

"How are you today, Armand?" Jazz said to the baby.

Armand made noises in response, fervently telling Jazz how his day was. She had no idea what he was saying but she pretended to, nodding her head occasionally.

"He only acts like that around you," Neon said, "Any other time, he's quiet. Then you show up and he can't stop making noises."

"It's because I understand them," Jazz said, sticking her tongue out.

She meant it in all seriousness. She knew what it felt like to talk and not be heard, to cry and be ignored, to yell for help and not get it. She may not have been a child anymore but she was a child then. She was innocent before it happened.

Just like the twins.

"You have the IQ of a genius and the maturity of a baby. Sounds about right," Neon joked.

Jazz laughed, fake like her smile and conversation thus far. Fake was a specialty of hers. But she didn't see it as being fake; she saw it as protecting herself. The life she portrayed was a work of fiction to hide the biography underneath. After all, no one read biographies unless they had to.

Jazz looked around the crowded living room, eyes stopping on Arpeggio and Jack cuddled on the floor in front of her. She nudged Arpeggio with her foot, gaining the drummer's attention.

"When are you getting knocked up?" Jazz asked.

She had to keep asking stupid questions. It was what her friends expected of her. Being quite would only make them worry.

At the moment, she didn't feel like pretending. She really wanted to be around her baby grand piano. She didn't want to be here. It was hard to keep acting happy all the time.

"After we get married," Jack answered for his fiancée.

Arpeggio and Jack were engaged. After almost two full years of dating, they decided they wanted to at least start planning their wedding.

It would be the first time anyone would hear Jack call Arpeggio by her given name.

"Do you two have a date set yet?" Dante asked.

Jazz zoned out from the conversation, making sure to keep the smile on her face. They wouldn't notice that she had mentally checked out. Her mind drifted, sifting through thoughts of her piano pieces that she wrote recently. The things she wrote on her piano were never shared with her band mates; they were too personal. Her keyboard was what she used to create the catchy beats of their songs. Never her piano.

"Right, Jazz?" Dorian asked, cutting into the Jazz's thought process.

Jazz snapped out of her daze, eyes wandering the room. Everyone was staring at her. Jazz smiled broader, crinkling her nose.

"What?" she giggled.

"Just agree with me," Dorian demanded.

Jazz shrugged, "Dorian's right."

Dorian cheered, causing mass amounts of comments to be thrown his way at once. Jazz sighed internally. Her friends rarely asked her for input during conversations; when they did and caught her off guard, she acted like a space case. But she wasn't really like that. She wasn't really a goofball. She was constantly depressed, constantly afraid.

The cushion next to her caved in from weight. She turned her head, meeting Zack's eyes. She could barely contain her own eyes from inspecting every section of his well-chiseled body.

Zack was one of the only men she could look at without being disgusted.

"Hey," Zack said.