Drakefn (drakefn) wrote in poetryincorrect,

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Jazz: Star #4

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

Jazz sat up and streched, moving slowly to not wake Doug. She remembered three of the movies that played, but looking at the stack of dvd's it seemed they'd made it through all seven. Standing up she stumbled her way over chip bags and liquor bottles trying to find her way in the dark. Banging her knee into an end table she cursed and then began to laugh.

"What the hell is all the racket?" Doug said as he sat up. "Are you drunk?"

"Not as drunk as you," she spat back as she tried to flex her knee.

"Maybe not," he said as he put his hand on his forehead. "What time is it?"

"Late afternoon I think," she told him.

"Why are you whispering?" he asked, mimicing her.

"I don't know," she admitted, standing back up and testing putting weight on her leg.

"That looks painful," he said as he stood and scooped her up in his arms.

"I don't want to be carried by a drunk," she said, fighting him. Keeping a strong arm around her waist he carefully found a path towards the bedroom. Putting her down on the bed he turned on a lamp and grabbed her suitcase from beside the dresser.

"This huge suite can hold 75 people, but only has one bed?" she muttered as she shook her head. "It's all so stupid."

"Shush now," Doug told her as he opened the suitcase looking for something more comfortable for Jazz to sleep in.

"No seriously, who needs this? It's ridiculous," she continued. "I don't understand why people insist to give me such extravegant things. Have I ever struck you as a glamourous girl? I'm not. I'm a simple country girl."

"Just quiet down," Doug said as he pulled out clothing looking for something more comfortable.

"Why should I quiet down?" she argued. "I don't want to quiet down. I want someone to listen to me. I want someone to actually give me what I want and not what they think I want. I want a guy to ask me out because he likes my personality, not because he saw me on tv. I want someone to understand that I don't want some good lookin' playboy, I just want someone to hold me." Doug stopped looking through the clothing and came and sat beside the star as she began to cry. "I don't want this anymore Doug. I'm tired of getting only four or five hours of sleep a night. I'm sick of having to put up with all of this." She became incoherent after this and just melted into Doug's arms as he wrapped them around her in a massive hug.

"You don't want to stop," he whispered. "But you need to slow down."

"I can't Doug," she insisted. "I try so hard but everyone keeps putting more and more on me. I just want to walk away for a while. I don't even remember why I'm in Chicago."

"Some dinner thing on Monday night," he reminded her when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

"Well I don't want to go," she told him. "I want to leave."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere," she told him. "How about Paris? Or London? Or Italy! You always said you wanted to see the countryside of Italy, come with me and let's go see it." Doug laughed.

"You're drunk," he reminded her. "You're not thinking clearly."

"If I was would you go?"

"In a heartbeat," he admitted.

"So let's go to sleep," she suggested. "And if I still want to go when we wake up, let's go."
Tags: fiction, jazz: star, writing
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