Smiling at Everything

"You're house looks like you snorted crack before making it," Jazz laughed, staring at Zack's Lego house.

"Don't hate," Zack returned.

Shortly after Jazz allowed Zack into one of her deepest secrets, the rest of the members of the bus returned and the bus rushed back to the road. In an attempt to keep Jazz from thinking about cutting, Zack decided they should play with Lego bricks, which he stole from Jack before the trip started. Jazz proved to be much better at it than him.

"You should just stick to playing the bass and drinking frilly coffees, Beatrice," Jazz commented.

"Just because everything you touch comes out perfect doesn't mean you can tease me," Zack stated.

"It's not a matter of perfection, Beatrice. It’s a matter of snorting crack before building houses. Just say 'no.'"

"Leave the building, Elvis."

"We're on a bus. But I'll attribute your confusion to the crack."

"I try to make a witty comeback and you murder it."

"Stop trying to be witty; it doesn't suit you."

Zack pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't really care that Jazz was picking on him. It didn't matter as long as she was distracted. The whole point of this was for her to keep from slicing up her body. Zack wanted her to be okay. Though he did realize she needed to tell him everything in order to be completely better, this was a good start.

Plus, he enjoyed their banter.

"Aw, Beatrice, don't be sad," Jazz mocked.

"I'm sorry, I'm not witty enough to stop being sad."

"Would it help if I said your muscles are sexy?"

Jazz didn't know where the nerve to say that came from. Zack's muscles were an attractive feature, one she focused on quite often unintentionally. And she accepted that she enjoyed Zack's body, as well as everything about Zack's personality. But admitting it was something she never saw herself doing. Not in a lifetime. She wasn't like her band mates; she wasn't open about her attraction because she wasn't used to it. She always thought she would die alone, without her band mates, without a boyfriend or girlfriend, without her family, without any pets. Alone.

"It may help my ego," Zack sniffed.

He would love for her to say his muscles were sexy. Zack tried to be a gentleman, he did. But Jazz's sex appeal could be enough to make him go over the edge. Her admitting she found his body attractive, that the feelings he had were mutual to some extent, was enough to keep him content for awhile.

"Beatrice, you have the sexiest muscles I've seen in my life," Jazz stated, "You should feel pretty fucking proud of yourself."

Zack placed a hand over his heart, "I think my self-esteem just raised ten notches."

"But you're still not witty."

Zack's pout returned, playful as it had been throughout the conversation. Jazz giggled at the action. She liked this, being carefree. This wasn't something she could normally do. She didn't know how to make herself let go most of the time. Not like her friends. Her attitude was normally fake but Zack was capable of bringing things out of her that no one else could.

And that made her even more attracted to him.

The possibility that he could help her, save her even, from her temporary mental insanity was something she believed could happen. He had worked so hard to break through her, it wasn't likely he would throw away that progress they made over the events of the past. Jazz doubted he would. Zack was a good guy.

Though, the prospect of telling him about her past was still terrifying. She didn't know how to go about doing it, when to do it. She didn't actually know how he would react or what he would think afterward. There was the possibility that he would treat her differently, either like a ticking time bomb or a whore. To her, there was no in-between area.

She wanted Zack to keep liking her. She enjoyed his attention simply because of the lack of negative vibe she got from it. Telling him could cause her to lose him, even if he was the good guy she saw him as.

It was hard to tell how people would react to rape confessions.

Zack smiled, watching Jazz return to working on her Lego castle. She was thinking about something, he could see it in her change in body posture. He wasn't sure what was on her mind though. He never could tell what she was thinking about. Jazz was a difficult person to figure out. The rest of RxN wore their thoughts and emotions on their sleeves. Normally, they voiced said thoughts and emotions within in minutes of recognizing them. But Jazz didn't do that. She wasn't trying to be fake around him anymore, her thoughts were just on lockdown. They would be until she could get fully comfortable with him, comfortable enough to expose everything to him.

He wondered if she would ever tell him. Perhaps she was too afraid to ever expose the truth. Or maybe she didn't know what she could and couldn't tell him. She didn't have a friend she could tell things to; she hadn't in a long time. It was possible she was unaware what things were appropriate for Zack to know.

She could tell him anything though and she needed to be aware of that.

"Are you feeling better now?" Zack asked.

Jazz looked up from her castle, staring into Zack's worried eyes. He did all of this for her, just to make sure she didn't cut herself. And she, surprisingly, hadn't thought about cutting the whole time. She hadn't even thought about them. The childish fantasies Legos created swirled through her head in varying colors. Nothing negative. It was a nice change.

"Yeah," Jazz answered.

"Do you feel like," he trailed off, not wanting anyone else on the bus to walk in on their conversation and hear one of Jazz's secrets.

She had faith in him enough to tell him. He was entitled to keep it a secret.

Before Jazz could answer, the walkie-talkie on the table of their dining booth crackled. Both stared at the walkie-talkie, awaiting the voice of one of the managers. Throughout the ride, Grim and Matt had been checking in with each bus through walkie-talkie.

"We'll be arriving at the venue in about twenty minutes for sound check," Grim's voice came from the tiny black object, "Be dressed for the show. All makeup can be retouched after sound check in the dressing rooms. Food will be provided at the venue for you."

Jazz stood from her spot on the floor and grabbed the walkie-talkie. If she didn't reply, Grim would assume no one heard and would likely call one of their cell phones to relay the message. He didn’t need to waste his time.

"I'll let everyone know," Jazz said, making sure the button on the side of the device was pressed.

She didn't have to fake a happy voice. Not at that moment. She was happy, truly happy, thanks to Zack's efforts. It was nice to actually be able to feel that emotion in her core.

"Thanks, Jazz," Grim said.

"No problem," Jazz returned, placing the walkie-talkie back on the table.

Zack looked at Jazz expectantly. She still hadn't answered his question and he wanted to know the answer. He needed to know if this helped.

"Well?" Zack asked.

"You heard what Grim said. I don't need to tell you," Jazz stated.

Zack rolled his eyes, "Not that, goober. You never answered my question."

"Oh," Jazz said.

She hadn't realized she forgot. She did remember the question. It just slipped her mind for a moment while she was talking to Grim.

"So do you?" Zack asked.

"No," Jazz shook her head, "You kept me distracted enough to stop craving it for the time being."

"So the Legos worked?"

"It wasn't just the Legos, Zack," Jazz stated, walking to Zack's side and kneeling, "It's because of you. You care enough to keep me engaged in conversation or make comments when you notice I'm spacing out. Lego blocks didn't do shit; spending time with you did."

Jazz couldn't believe she was telling him that. But he had the right to know. Didn't he?

"It means a lot to me that you work hard to keep me sane and help me feel comfortable enough to open up," Jazz pressed her lips to Zack's cheek, "Thank you."