The Boys
Jazz's life gets turned around with the help of some friends.
Prologue: A Change of Pace
Note: This chapter deals with implications of attempted suicide.
Eagles was the worst city to live in, especially in the winter. The frigid air cloaked your time of death in mystery, the roads were slick with black ice, and to make matters worse, the grey skies stretched to infinity, causing every day to blend together in a ceaseless blob.
None of it mattered to him, though. His hair wavered in the wind, his breath visible in the freezing atmosphere as he sat at the edge of the bridge out of the city. It was a nice view; the skyline was on his left, the countryside on his right, and the waters of the river below - calm as ever, despite the breeze above it. He'd found himself here more frequently than he'd like, especially during the winter months, but nobody really ever noticed him besides himself. Maybe today's the day, he thought to himself as he leaned forward, watching boats pass by underneath.
He stood up, arms outstretched as the wind brushed by him - only to let out a squawk of surprise as he found himself pulled backwards, landing atop a speeding motorcycle. The driver was a woman, blonde hair peeking under her helmet. She wore a leather jacket, the black sleeves cuffed with a red embroidery pattern. He sighed, subconsciously bracing himself...
"Jazzebel." She started, slowing her drive as they exited the bridge, pulling onto a side road. "What's going on?"
"It's nothing." He mumbled.
"Nothing my foot, Jazz. You know exactly what you were trying to do."
"It's nothing!" He barked, folding his arms and shaking his head. "I was doing everyone a favor. Nobody wants me, I'm getting evicted, I'm gonna have to drop out of--"
"Would you like some food?"
He paused. "Let's go to Marcina's." he said with a sigh, "If you're really going to interrogate me about this, I at least want a good meal out of it."
She turned again, riding down the road. The discussion between the two quelled for the time being, Jazz slowly watching the houses pass by. Despite the silence in the air, the two minds were aglow with discussion, each coming up with a list of questions and predetermined responses. Jazz wondered what the woman was going to ask him. A barrage of questions, surely; most of them beginning and ending with "Why would you try something so stupid without coming to me first?"
Because I didn't want you to worry. he thought to himself as they pulled into the parking lot. You'd worry more if you knew.
As the two entered the restaurant, the air turned from suffocating and cold to warm, welcoming, searing on Jazz's fingertips but still invitational. They were led to a booth in the corner, the server giving Jazz a kind smile as she handed the two menus.
"You didn't even give me a call." the woman started, "If I hadn't been out on a drive..."
"I know. I'm sorry." He didn't look her in the eyes. "I just didn't want you to worry about me; if I'd said something and then... changed my mind, I guess, you'd be calling me daily for months just to make sure I'd still be okay."
"That's what I do, Jazz." She took his hand gently, using her other hand to lift his chin up so the two would lock eyes. His green ones were dull, almost lifeless - her red eyes burned into him, full with a kind of worry only a mother could have. "For everything else I do, the thing I do the most is worry about you."
"You're about the only one that does anymore. Gracie left me, I'm getting kicked out of my apartment, the dean's on my ass again..." He put his face in his hands. "It's all too much, but I know you don't have any room for me, so I just... don't say anything. You can't worry about me if I'm strong and on my own."
"Jazzebel." Her voice was soft. "Please, this is why I call you so often... you're so much like myself and your father it hurts." She chuckled. "We're reclusive by nature, but that doesn't mean you have to hide yourself from me, you know?"
"I know..." He buried his face in his hands as the server returned, sighing under his breath as the woman ordered for the both of them, handing her the menus. "I just don't know how to ask for... for help, I guess."
She gently held his hand. "You just did, is the thing. You told me your problems, and... well, I know what you mean."
"Can you help me, though? I can't even think of how you could help."
"Well, I can think of a few things. Therapy, for one. Maybe some medicine to help you feel better. A few days out of town to clear your head. Herb." She held up a few fingers. "That's four."
"I'm gonna need a place to stay in a month, too..."
"I might know a place." She grinned, "You just have to promise to help yourself as much as I'm helping you."
"I'll definitely try." He gave her a small, appreciative smile. In truth, he wasn't sure if he was capable of trying, at least at the moment. She nodded in understanding, the silent agreement between them binding - at least for now.
When their food arrived, they didn't stop talking; their discussion continued, peppered with silence as they ate.
"So where are you living, anyway?" Jazz asked, tilting his head. "You definitely don't live in Eagles anymore."
"I moved back to the Valley, actually - a couple years ago." She replied, "Your aunt hates it, but hey - that's her problem!" she said with a laugh, taking a bite of her food.
Jazz laughed too, shaking his head. "So, how quickly do you want me to get ready?"
"Well... don't worry about it." She gave him a mischevious smile. "Sooner than you think, you're gonna wake up, and you're gonna have a whole new name."
"If you say so." He shrugged. He didn't really believe her without a concrete date, but... he'd just have to take the chance, wouldn't he?
The two finished their food, the woman driving Jazz back to his apartment. "Promise me you're going to be okay."
"Hand to the family, mom."
She gave him a smile as he entered the complex. "As it should be."
That night, Jazz could barely sleep - a whole new life? Medicine? Therapy? A fresh start? His mind was buzzing - and with excitement this time.
For once, he was genuinely hopeful of the future.