Story Five: Jazz's Loneliness
Never Had A Friend... Until You
Jazz solemnly smiled to herself. She laid in her bed alone, as she did many other nights, with the blankets wrapped around her.
"Another night alone," she whispered to herself. "I guess that's what happens."
She wouldn't call herself a loner... at least not on purpose. She is just reserved, bashful, timid... shy... exceedingly shy. So shy that she wouldn't or more importantly couldn't talk to people. Maybe that's why people assumed she was stuck up and conceded; which is farther from the truth.
But she also put up a front to hide that shyness that seem to make her vulnerable, that meanness and whatnot was used to conceal that fact that she was alone. She hated that she did that, because it didn't help the situation either.
Jazz shook her head at those thoughts. She wasn't like Stacy. She couldn't be outgoing, talkative, and overall friendly. It was hard to put her self out there in front of people like that.
Not many people knew she was just shy. It wasn't really understandable, since she's on television every week talking and wrestling. But in a way it's easy to not be yourself then. On television, she's Jazz: tough, forceful, WWF diva. Behind the scenes she's Jazz: shy, unconfident, and in need of a friend. To the world and many people, she's television Jazz... it's easier to be her than her true self.
She stared up at the ceiling. "You can be so pathetic, girl."
She did have Stephanie in a way. Stephanie's a friend; but not in the way Jackie and Molly was or even Ivory and Trish. Stephanie is a friend of misery. Not "misery" in a bad way, in a good way, like when you have one of those 'I'm having a bad day and no one will understand why I'm pissed off' mood; and you want to vent to someone have them respond objectively. That's how the Jazz and Stephanie relationship worked and they're both okay with it.
But in a way, Jazz wishes it was more. She wanted someone to talk to day in and day out, a travel buddy, someone to go out and party with. She wants a friend, a comrade, a buddy... someone willing to look closer to the real person she is and not believe the rumors or the fake attitude.
A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. She rolled over in her bed and looked at the clock on the night table. "10:57," she mumbled angrily. She had to catch a plane at ten in the morning and wanted to get some rest. She threw the blankets over her head, snuggling deeper in to the warmth of the bed. "Maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away," she mumbled to herself.
"Jazz! I know you're in there," the voice shouted.
Jazz growled crossly as she moved the blankets back and tumbled out of bed. She straightened her white oversized t-shirt and plaid pajamas pants and walked to the door. "Who is it?" she asked. She was leaning against the door, waiting for the person to answer before opening it.
"You know who it is, silly," she said with a giggle.
She smiled slightly. "Should have known," she said as she opened the door. Stacy was the only one that had the nerves and guts to visit her that late into the night. She always made Jazz feel like a friend, someone she could talk to and not be shy around.
Stacy walked in with a grin and sat on the ruffled bed. "Were you sleeping?" she asked innocently, even though she knew she was.
Jazz rolled her eyes at the young blonde and crawled back into bed. "Yes, and I'm going back to dreamland, thank you."
"Oh no, you're not," she said as she grabbed her arm and yanked her from the bed.
"Who the hell—" Jazz huffed crazily as she stood in front of Stacy.
Stacy held up her hand to stop her from talking. "It's Ladies' Night at some club downtown and everyone's going... including you."
Jazz shook her head furiously. "No," she said softly. "I can't, none of you guys really want me there."
She looked at her oddly. "Why would you say that?"
"I don't know," she said as she shrugged her shoulders timidly. "I just don't think it's a good idea, Stacy. I wouldn't know what to say to anyone; and I'll probably be standing against the wall at the club by myself watching everyone else have fun."
Stacy nodded her head sadly. "Jazz, I wish you would break out of this stage... If you think you'll be stand up against a wall, I'll be there with you."
"I don't care and leave it alone Stacy," Jazz hissed as she walked back to her bed. She got back under the blankets. She wanted to go, but she didn't want to be around all those people.
"No," she said. She walked to her suitcase and pulled out a simple club hopping outfit: black leather pants, white tank top, with a matching leather jacket. She put it in a near by chair and then walked to the bathroom. Stacy turned the water on, waited for it to warm up, and switched it to shower mode.
"What are you doing?" she asked as her eyes followed Stacy's actions.
Stacy grabbed the blanket, hurled them off of Jazz, and dropped them to the floor. "You are coming. So get up and get in the shower," she said as she looked at her watch that was on her left wrist, "We have thirty minutes." She put her hands on her hips and gave her a forceful, but playful at the same time, look.
Jazz smiled at her. "Thanks," she said. She stood from the bed and picked up the clothes that were on the chair.
"Thanks for what?" she asked as the same time giving her a perplexed look.
"For being a friend," she said as she looked at her.
"Of course I'm your friend Jazz. You just didn't see it," Stacy said with a smile.
Jazz chuckled. "Well, I don't think I ever had a friend, until you." She walked in to the bathroom to get ready for the adventure that lay ahead.