Los Angeles, California - Friday Night

The city lights and night life call for Jasmine, cool air slipping over the buildings. The breeze carries loud techno in hot cars slowly thumping past the long lines waiting to get inside exclusive nightclubs.

Jasmine steps out of her house in a tight dress that hugs her hips and rides high on her thighs. Evening falls, but that doesn’t stop her from slipping on dark sunglasses before flipping her hair to one side.

The Mercedes is already running as it waits for her at the top of a sloping drive. Deep vibrations pound in the speakers. Sleek lights give the car a purple glow from underneath. Without putting on a seatbelt, Jazz gives it gas and quickly rolls away from her million dollar house on the hill. There’s no need for headlights as Jazz shifts gears, the parking lights giving the road a yellow glow under bright stars.

Jazz’s glitter-clad platform heel gives the sleek Mercedes more gas, perfectly manicured toes nearly touching the floorboard as she roars around traffic. It’s all green lights instead of blue tonight, Jazz’s sports car growling as she shifts again, the thumping techno in her speakers never ending as it seems to cause the car to pulse with light and energy.

The curves and vibrations are exciting, a shiver running through Jazz’s body as she downshifts and brakes around a long turn, stomping on the gas before speeding back up, the clutch hardly giving her any trouble as she slams it into fifth.

Santa Monica Boulevard never looked so good. Beautiful bodies wait in a long line outside of The Palace nightclub, sexy cars slowly rolling by as English and Spanish mix in dub and pitch alike.

Jazz grins when she pulls into the parking lot, a single space remaining open near the club’s entrance.

Blonde and brunette swishes to one side over Jazz’s shoulder, a simple click of her keys seeing the Mercedes chirp and glow, seeming to offer a simple goodbye as it patiently waits for her return. The thumping beats in Jazz’s Mercedes follows as she walks, the music in her head continuing as if she never stepped out of the car. Past the waiting line and velvet ropes, Jazz walks right up to the bouncer and gives him a simple kiss. With a wink, Jazz slips right on past as the bouncer lets her through without batting an eye.

The Palace is absolutely kicking tonight. The music and people are HOT while the air and drinks are cold, Jazz’s shoes glimmering in the twisting lights and strobes while the floor flashes and glows all the same.

Without a single dollar on her, Jasmine accepts a glass of champagne and carries it to the dancefloor to join the crowd. Jasmine becomes lost in a sea of hard bodies dancing and shaking, loud voices cheering as the next song blends and begins.

Jazz takes a drink, feeling a man’s hands on her hips as she shakes and pushes herself back into him. The phone buzzes in her bra, Jazz continuing her sexy little grind as she reaches in to retrieve it. She quickly hits ignore when the name ‘Bones’ shows next to the image of a ringing phone. Back into the cushy pushup it goes, Jazz’s tits bouncing as she resumes dancing. She loves the way his hands wrap around her body, squeezing and feeling before they cup her tits. A smile escapes Jazz as she continues dancing, another man’s hands rubbing along her hips to grab her ass. Pinned between two hot guys, Jazz lets them caress as the only sign of her existence is a sleek arm holding a nearly empty champagne glass out to the side.

Jazz’s tits vibrate once again, causing her to check and see who’s trying to ruin her perfect night. The name ‘Hermana’ appears as it vibrates – Ignore.

The night resumes as Jazz’s glass is refilled, a gorgeous California Girl with caramel skin taking Jazz in her arms. The girls twist and bounce together, Jazz leaning in for a kiss. Cali Girl’s lips taste like cherry, Jazz eagerly going in for another kiss as the girls change angles and flick tongues, the girls’ legs pushed between each other’s, allowing them to grind one another.

“Hey, girl,” Ms. Cali comments next to Jazz’s ear. “You’re a skinny little thing.”

A man’s hands slide up Jazz’s hips, tugging the short dress up to expose her ass. With only a tiny thong showing, it’s only natural that his hands are on her soft cheeks.

The music is bumping. Cali Girl is necking Jazz. His hands squeeze her soft ass.

It was only a matter of time before someone reached out and took Jazz’s hand, leading it down to their waist before her hand wraps around a hard, exposed cock. Jazz twists and jerks, squeezing the thick cock as she feels the zipper of her dress begin to fall.

There are six missed calls from Bones while eight unanswered messages from Hermana linger, all of them wanting Jazz to call back, message, and just come home.

Jazz is led by the hand, weaving through a sea of bodies before arriving at a private room in the club. Jazz’s dress is hauled up and over her body before the door shuts, Cali Girl wrapping her arms around Jazz as two hard cocks stand erect after the guys drop their pants. Jazz does what she can to kiss those sweet cherry lips, but the persuasive hands on her shoulders give her different instructions. Before long, Jazz is kneeling on the floor with one cock in her mouth as the other is tightly squeezed in her hand.

The music pumps, as does Jazz’s head, Cali Girl losing her panties and kneeling behind Jazz. Cali Girl’s tongue slips down Jazz’s back, flicking along one of her round ass cheeks before finding her ass. Jazz moans as the cock between her lips begins fucking her mouth, Cali Girl’s tongue expertly flicking Jazz’s ass.

This cycle of cocks and girls continues in the dark room. Before long, Jazz is holding onto the couch as she sits all the way down on a beautiful cock, Cali Girl watching and rubbing herself as she encourages the other guy to stick it in Jazz’s ass.

Jazz moans and smiles, pushing back on the hard cock working its way into her ass while the cock beneath her continues pumping.

Cali Girl hikes her leg up on the chair and furiously rubs. “That’s it, girl! Take that fucking cock!” She nears the edge and rubs faster as Jazz continues getting fucked. “That’s it! Fuck her good! Harder!”

Jazz’s night at the Palace club ends as it should, Cali Girl doing a wonderful job of cleaning up the mess on Jazz’s beautiful body.

---

Waking up in the morning is an easy thing to do if you’re Jazz. Stepping out of her house in the early dawn, a Louis Vuitton slung over her shoulder while unlocking her Mercedes in the driveway, a smirk comes to her face as she welcomes the day.

“Hey, Baby Girl,” she tells the car, running her hands along the hood as she approaches the driver side. A hired hand opens the door for Jazz, offering words of encouragement for her to have a great day as he helps close the door.

Jazz’s head bobs along with the beat as she turns up the techno, a sleek high heel giving it gas while chrome wheels flash down the driveway.

It doesn’t take long before Jazz arrives at work, her spot being right in front and marked with a Reserved parking sign.

Who wouldn’t want to be Jazz right now? Owning her own boutique, The Chic Boutique, on Wilshire makes her day a breeze. Dressed in a fitted black top and leggings, Jazz assists a customer looking for something to add color to her life.

“Not a problem, love,” Jazz tells the beautiful woman. “Let’s find you everything you need. I’m all yours for the day.” She grabs the measuring tape. “When’s the last time you’ve been fitted? Is that something you want to do today?”

“Oh, yes,” the woman replies, some relief coming over her. “I’m so glad you asked. I’m Roxy, by the way.”

The name seems vaguely familiar to Jasmine, but she can’t quite place it. “Hey, Roxy. I’m Jazz.” She leads the woman to the private fitting rooms. Before she slips into the back, Jazz glances to the entrance and stops for a moment, seeing Cali Girl having entered the boutique. Jazz is with a customer right now so, maybe Cali Girl will still be in the store when Jazz finishes. Jazz does the right thing and continues leading her customer into the back room before closing and locking the door.

“Ok, then,” Jazz comments, setting her things on a comfortable chair. “Let’s get you measured, then.”

The woman hauls up her shirt, revealing a lacy bra that shows off her bust, a slight jiggle as the shirt is rolled and set aside. She looks to Jazz. “The pants, too?”

Jazz’s eyebrows rise for a moment before she regains composure. “Sure,” she smoothly replies with a shrug. “Why not?”

Jazz extends the measuring tape and wraps it around the woman’s bust, gently touching the tape ends together.

“Here,” the woman comments, reaching back and unclasping the bra before Jazz has a chance to react. “I think this will help.” The bra drops to the floor, Jazz having to recover with the measuring tape in her hands. “So,” she comments, giving a brief shoulder shimmy. “What do you think?”

“I…” Jazz begins, running the tape around this gorgeous woman. “I think they’re nice.”

The woman chuckles, causing her tits to shake. “I mean the size. I’ve usually been a 34D.”

“It appears that way, still.” Jazz rests the tape on the woman’s tits, gently resting it over her nipples.

“It’s ok,” the woman says. “Give me your hands.”

Jazz lets the woman take her hands, placing them on her tits and squeezing. She doesn’t hesitate when the woman leans forward for a kiss, Jazz feeling her soft tits as they exchange kisses.
“See?” The woman runs a hand along Jazz’s cheek before offering another kiss. “I knew you were the best in the business. You can get a closer look if you want…”

Jazz feels herself lowering, running her tongue along the woman’s chest before finding a nipple. Jazz sucks and pulls, squeezing the other tit before taking both in her hands. “You’re so big,” Jazz comments. She can feel the woman moan while she strokes Jazz’s hair, her erect nipple popping out of her mouth as Jazz switches to the other one.

“Mmm,” the woman moans, giving her hair a toss. “Good girl. I think that I’ve got something else you need to suck on, too.” Her hands are on Jazz’s shoulders as she persuades her to the floor, Jazz helping to remove the woman’s panties. The woman hikes her leg onto Jazz’s shoulder as she strokes her hair. “Right there, baby. Taste that fucking pussy…Oh, Fuck!”

Jazz flicks her tongue against the woman’s pussy, her hands full of soft ass cheeks before she feels the woman begin slowly grinding against Jazz’s mouth. Jazz braces herself, letting the woman use her face.

“Right there, baby!” the woman calls, the girls using one another to stabilize themselves. “Oh, suck that clit! You’re so fucking good! Yes!”

Jazz willingly lets the woman ride her mouth to climax, her head pressed between beautiful thighs as the woman shakes and cries out in pleasure. Jazz is held in place on her knees, her hands full of thigh and ass, doing her best to catch a breath now that the woman isn’t pressing her full force onto Jazz’s face.

---

Having completed a very successful sale, accompanied with a new number in her phone, Jazz wraps up her day without capturing another glimpse of Cali Girl. By the time Jazz finished helping size the gorgeous woman in the back room, Cali Girl was nowhere to be found. Regardless, Jazz has to close up the store tonight and head home now that darkness has settled over Southern California.

It’s straight home for Jazz tonight, the last twenty-four hours having been more intense than any she’s ever experienced up to this point. Jazz isn’t so sure that she’s able to handle another round, not much less on a Sunday night.

The bright lights pulsing from Los Angeles illuminate Jazz’s house on the hill. Blue and red mix with green and yellow, creating her own little party for one. It’s quiet in Jazz’s house, her heels gently landing on the marble floor as she places her things on a granite countertop.

Water. Jazz needs water right now. With a cold glass, she reaches across the counter and pops open an unfamiliar bottle, removing two Triproxacyne and taking both.

It’s getting late. Darkness begins to overcome the bumping, bright lights of the magical city in the distance. Previously, the music was so clear to Jazz, but now the trance-like voices are muffled by the beats that, though once crisp, slow to muffled thumps.

Sit down. Jazz needs to sit down right now. Unable to find the glass of water, this uncontrollable and semi-continuous stream of excitement and stimulation has finally caught up with Jazz. The city lights are a dull white and orange now, the music and bright strobes seeming to have stopped now that night has conquered her day.

Couch. Pillow.

Jazz’s head spins as she lays back, her heart pounding while she closes her eyes and places a hand on her face. She breathes deep, letting it out in heavy words. “…Sissy…Hermana…” she huffs. “Roxy…”

Jazz passes out hard on the couch, sprawled out just the way she was when first laying down. The house is dark, as are the windows, complete silence having finally arrived at Jazz’s place for what might be the first time in a long time – months, possibly years. 

The party just…stops.

---

A gentle shake rocks Jasmine, a foggy sensation slipping into her as her eyes remain closed. “Hey,” the voice sounds in an echo. “Jasmine,” it sounds again, another gentle shake as the echo grows.

Jasmine’s sister kneels next to her, saying her name in long, drawn out syllables as she gently strokes Jasmine’s arm. “Come on, Jazz. I know you’re there.” She strokes Jazz’s cheek, moving strands of hair out of the way. Her voice is little more than a whisper. “It’s me, Jazz. Can you hear me?”

Jasmine groans as she tries to open one eye, then the other, the light of a late afternoon finding her. She tries to sit up in the bed, comforting and familiar words from Jasmine’s sister Daliah finally finding her. “Dolly,” Jasmine says, trying to look around. Her head is spinning, the lights causing her to squint. Her hair is a mess. She’s thinner than she was. Jasmine might even have trouble recognizing herself right now.

“I’m right here, Jazz. Don’t move too fast.” Dolly sits on the bed next to Jazz, helping the girl come back to life.

“How long have I been asleep?” Jazz tries to push her hair back, hands in her face as she stretches her legs.

Dolly rubs Jazz’s back. “Nearly three days.”

Jazz shakes her head as she looks around at the little top-floor apartment bedroom overlooking the west end. Her voice naturally comes with some confusion. “Three days…”

“Almost. Yeah. I’m not surprised with as hard as you’ve been going over the past month, Jazz. It’s a miracle you didn’t pass out while driving.” Dolly continues rubbing Jazz’s back before leaning in for a hug. Her words are endearing. “Welcome back, girl.”

“I’m fine,” Jazz insists, sitting up right with her feet on the floor, only Dolly’s long night shirt helping keep her warm. “I had to close up last night. Probably spent too long at The Palace the night before.”

“You closed up three nights ago,” Dolly comments.

Jasmine comes to the realization. “Three nights ago…oh, shit…” She begins tossing the covers aside, being stopped short by Dolly holding Jazz in bed.

“I called your work and told them you wouldn’t be in starting two days ago,” Dolly informs Jazz. “It’s cool. They’re able to cover your shift until you get better.”

“I am better…”

“Jazz. Stop.” Dolly takes Jazz’s face in her hands. “Look at me, girl. For real this time.” Dolly looks into Jazz’s eyes. Sleepy, yes. But dilated? No. Her face is a little swollen, but they said that’s normal. “How do you feel? Right now, I mean. Can you hear me talking ok?”

Jazz looks around, feeling Dolly’s hands slip from her face as the quiet announces itself. “I can, but I don’t really hear anything,” Jazz half-comments. “It’s quiet. Why? What am I supposed to be hearing?”

Dolly’s brow presses together, giving small nods as she looks Jazz over. “Ok,” she states, a deep breath through the nose. “That’s a good thing.”

Jazz rises out of the bed, dragging her feet toward what appears to be the bathroom. “Where are we?”

“You should know, Jazz,” Dolly states. “This is your apartment on the lower East side.”

“Lower East,” Jazz hardly echoes while going to the bathroom.

Dolly grabs her things in the mess of Jazz’s living room, the window overlooking the outskirts. “Yup,” Dolly calls back, removing two more Triproxacyne before walking them back to Jazz. “The LOWER East side, in fact.” She hands the pills and a glass of water to Jazz, a sarcastic double thumbs up her way. “Super great choice, girlfriend.” Dolly finds her keys and phone, calling back to the bathroom. “And get ready! I’ve gotta pick some things up and you’re coming with.”

A little while later, Dolly drives Jasmine’s Hyundai out of the apartment parking lot as they drive away from the lower quarters and into civilization. The first thing they pass is the Mercedes dealership, the Wayward Mall where the girls at Victoria Secret continue covering down on Jazz’s shift.

“I live in L.A.,” Jazz comments, in somewhat of a stupor as she tries to force herself to know where she is.

“Mmm,” Dolly questionably hums with a tilted head. “I guess you could say that. If you drive twenty minutes that way, then I guess you could say you’re in Los Angeles. But, girl…” she comments, making a right. “You live on the outskirts. Don’t start calling yourself a Los Angeles girl just yet.”

The music on the radio just isn’t doing anything for Jasmine, an annoying ad on the airwaves about fine jewelers causing her to roll her eyes. Jasmine scrolls through the stations, quickly assessing that each one sucks.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for on there, Jazz,” Dolly comments, a shake of her head. “I don’t think anyone actually airs the music you’re looking for. I don’t think they ever did.”

Jazz reaches for the door handle, her face long and still somewhat exhausted. “Stop the car.”

Dolly holds onto Jazz as they pull over in a Starbucks parking lot, finally coming to a stop before Jazz hops out. Dolly follows suit. “Jasmine. Wait.”

Jazz stops and turns, her arms folded against the chilly breeze, her hair back in a messy ponytail. “I’m not crazy, Dolly.”

“I know you’re not crazy…”

“Then what’s happening?”

Dolly stops at the back of the car, traffic around them resuming as if the two have no importance in this life.

Across the street is a quasi-acceptable bar called The Paradise, a large Coors sign that probably has most of the lights working that isn’t appealing in the least. Jasmine vaguely remembers the cash-only laundromat next to it, the feeling of never having been in an actual private room with two guys, but rather just sucking random dick in a dark alley between the two buildings. She shakes the thought away.

Daliah looks to the Starbucks and shrugs, gesturing to Jasmine. “Come sit with me for a while, then. Let’s just…slow down and talk for a little bit.”

The girls order coffee and sit away from the others, Jasmine letting the cup warm her hands. Sitting with one leg up in a comfortable chair, she watches the world outside. She’s mouthing something, but it’s difficult to discern.

“You never did call Dr. Chevez back,” Dolly comments. “You promised him that you’d show up four days ago. I’m sure he tried to reach out to you, too.”

Jazz nods, taking a drink. “He tried.”

“Are you hungry?”

Jazz slowly shakes her head, taking another drink before adjusting in the seat. “I mean, I guess I probably am, but I can still feel this…” She gestures to her head. “I don’t like the medicine.”

“It’s just once a day for now, Jazz. The dosage will get lower as time goes on. That is, as long as you don’t go back to the way you were.”

Jazz makes a scowl, shaking her head. “What was wrong with the way I was before?” Her voice becomes rigid. “I have a job. I have my own place. I’m living my own life, Dolly.”

Daliah waves away the attack, trying to get Jazz to calm down. “We’re not getting into this again, Jazz. We’ve been down this road. Girl – listen. You have been living your own…life…as it were, but look at you.”

It’s true. Jazz can’t remember the last time she sat down to actually eat. She’s lost another ten pounds on top of what disappeared when she began hitting a bar nearly every night which is highly unusual for her.

“The way you saw the world, the way you wanted to see the world, is all your business. But, once it became dangerous to your own health, even you told me that it was becoming too much. Remember that night at dad’s?”

Jazz looks away and shakes her head. It isn’t out of disagreement, but rather an aversion from the fact Jazz knows that Daliah is right. Jazz doesn’t want to have that conversation again. She doesn’t need to relive that night.

Jazz isn’t a hot mess. She’s a pretty woman who used to have friends, whom people like but find mysterious and a little quirky. There are pictures of Jazz and her girlfriends somewhere in her apartment to prove it. She pays her bills and functions like everyone else. Jazz saw things differently, she figured, but lately, the lights have become too bright, the sounds too loud, and the reality too dull.

Triproxacyne isn’t an antipsychotic. It’s a trial sedative.

---

Six Weeks Later

Music plays on Jasmine’s phone as she continues getting ready in her UPPER east side apartment on the first floor overlooking a park, a clean and tidy place with a quiet and safe environment that finally received Dolly’s stamp of approval.

Jasmine slips on a dress and finishes doing her hair just right, a touch of lipstick that accentuates her naturally tan skin. Her phone dings against the music.

@Dolly: Are you still going on your date?

Jazz taps away, shooting her reply while stepping off to find her shoes. @Jazz: Yes. We’re just going to Antony’s for something to eat. No booze.

@Dolly: Keep me posted!

@Jazz: I will! But I’m not giving you a play by pay. You can see where I am. Straight there and back.

@Dolly: What’s his name? You never said.

@Jazz: Stop. I’ll turn it off.

@Dolly: Don’t, bitch! I will smooth raid that restaurant.

Jazz isn’t lying. She really is just going to a restaurant for a first date. It’s likely that this is the first non-hookup with some rando in over a year.

She sports a strapless dress that holds up well since she regained the weight, curvy legs showing under a dress that stops just above the knees. She’s beautiful tonight, sure to turn heads with her pretty Mexicana SoCal accent.

The atmosphere is intimate, the lights low, small tables occupied by handsome couples or those waiting for others.

“Hi,” her date says as Jasmine walks into Antony’s, an honest smile coming to her face.

This place is perfect for Jazz and what she needs right now. Her date is beautiful, someone that Dolly will just have to accept rather she likes her or not, a gorgeous brunette with matching eyes that sparkle.

Jazz walks up to her date, going in for a quick hug as the restaurant’s music is just the right low, double tempo. It’s their second time seeing one another, but Jazz gives a small kiss to those glossy lips. Her words are a whisper as she looks into her eyes. “Hey, Roxy.”