Posted by Gemma feat. Jack Cross on July 6, 2004, 8:39 pm

Gemma Lockhart throws her taped left fist forward, fiercely, missing the large punching bag, somehow. She stumbles, losing her balance, slightly. No matter how many impressive punches or striking martial arts kicks she hurls forward, nothing seems to be landing right. Even entering another country – Paris – wasn’t helping her get her concentration back. The work-out was hope-less. She felt disheartened and cynical. She was causing more damage to herself; she wasn’t regaining the momentum she desperately needed back. Gemma lets out a blood-curdling scream in aggravation, and without much deliberation, reaches for one of the smaller weights from the closest bench. Snatching it, she raises it above her head and aims it at the full wall-length mirror in front of her. It hits the target, with precision, and glass flies forward, spraying the room with thousands of tiny lethal shards. Jack: Whoa If only my fake imaginary sister could throw like that! Jack Cross steps over the broken mirror glass, as Gemma stops in her tracks, stunned. She, cautiously, slowly tilts her head and turns around slowly. Jack: You look surprised, Gemma. Gemma: So... They actually let you outta that crazy house? Jack: No I used legal matters and trickery to get out of that hell hole. Gemma: Riiiight She rolls her eyes, unconvinced. Jack: I know I'm right. So what brings you to ‘gay’ Paris? Gemma: Ugh... Let's see, I'm in a gym... And it’s not exactly going to plan. How about basic training from hell? Put it this way, Jack, I’m learning this shit is harder than it looks. Jack: I've seen you train before; you're usually a little more destructive then this. What's the matter? Gemma: What's the matter? WHAT'S THE MATTER? Gemma’s eyes flash with anger. She stamps her foot, hard, looking upset and angry. Gemma: ...I don't ####ing know! Jack backs off a little, holding his hands up in surrender. Jack: Hold up, little miss! I didn't mean to pry into something I shouldn't know anything about. Gemma: Well, it's okay; you never did know how to take a hint. Gemma pauses, taking a breath, remembering their last exchange and how nasty she had been to him And the guilt that has plagued her after wards. As Gemma darts her eyes up, she notices, by this time, a crowd has gathered around her destruction. Jack stares at Gemma, walking her as she, carefully, steps over the broken glass, making sure her small bare feet aren’t scratched and cut. Jack: Look, that maybe so, but I've learned to keep a low profile. He grins slyly. Jack pulls his gaze away from Gemma and directs it to the gaping crowd. Jack: Nothing to see here, people! Just a little accident, no one was hurt! He motions to Gemma. Jack: You're not hurt, are you? Gemma lets out a frustrated little scream, scraping her hands, roughly, through her hair. She grits her teeth. Gemma: I'm. Fine. By this time a worker for the gym has entered and positioned himself between Jack and Gemma. Jack steps forward. Jack: Hey, hey, hold up Franco! Worker: Screw you, yank. The French worker brushes a little closer to Gemma, this time stopping abruptly when Jack puts a fair amount of pressure on his shoulder and yanks him back a few feet. He repeats his words, firmer. Jack: I said Hold up! Gemma steps forward towards the worker. She prods him in the chest, aggressively, Gemma: Look, you little French bastard, you got a problem? Don't think I can pay for this pathetic amount of damage? I could probably buy your ####ing establishment with one month’s paycheck. Jack shrugs, unsympathetic at the worker. Jack: I told you to hold up. He shoves the worker too the side, hinting that it’s about time to leave. Jack: Now I'll take care of it! And when we're done, I'll come and get you. Gemma raises her eyebrow, looking towards Jack. Jack shoots a look back towards Gemma and flashes her a smug smile. Gemma: Am I to be impressed? Jack ignores her. Jack: Where were we? Gemma: You were interrupting my perfectly smooth work out? Jack: I'm sure Neo will tolerate broken glass in the ring Gemma: Do I look worried? Jack: Naw, girl, pissed off and frustrated, more or less. Which are two emotions I consider scarier coming from you. Gemma: Oh, you think I'm pretty scary? Jack: In a strikingly cute way, yes. Gemma narrows her eyes, and tilts her head. Jack's eyes widen, he jumps back, and points, mocking her out. Jack: See! That right there! The 'I'm cute but die, asshole' look! Gemma throws her head back, and laughs. Gemma: ...Yeah. That’s what I was going for All these years! So, we know why I'm here, why the hell is your crazy ass here? Jack's laugh dies... He looks uneasy, sparking Gemma’s cat-like curiosity. She folds her arms across her ample chest. Jack: Personal reasons Gemma: Oh? No response. Gemma growls, and sighs. Gemma: Ah, I see... She looks away. Jack: You could say that I'm going to hook up with an old friend and some family. Gemma: Sounds... Stimulating. Jack: Riveting with excitement. Actually I'd rather not talk about it. Gemma: That bad, eh? As someone with a rough family past, Gemma nods. Gemma: ...I know the feeling. Family Who’d want one? Gemma looks sympathetic, briefly. Jack mutters to himself, under his breath: Jack: Well, if I don't see you backstage in Manchester, it was nice knowing you when you weren't out to harm me. Jack frowns. Jack: So, what was it you were trying to do before my glamorous entrance? Gemma drops her gaze, and her harsh exterior. Gemma: ...Trying to remember why even do this. Jack: Because you have to keep your body toned and in good condition to keep from being hurt in this sport? Gemma shakes her head, shrugs. Gemma: Yeah, I guess I’m not so sure though anymore. Jack: So you want to be hurt? Gemma looks defensive! Gemma: Is there something you're trying to say? Don't hold back now, Jack. Jack: Nothing that you could deem as hurtful. I'm just asking if you'd like some help with your work out You look like you need a little help. That’s all. Gemma shouts. Gemma: Jack, I don’t need any help! Not now, not ever! She throws down one of the other smaller weights and walks away, pushing past Jack. She stops. She looks disturbed, yet thoughtful, like suddenly hit with a powerful, intense headache. Gemma: Why do we do this? ...Why do you do this as your life, as your career? Can you answer that? ...Can anyone? Her hard expression weakens She looks exasperated. Jack pauses for a moment, slightly surprised by her softer side. Jack: I ask myself that question almost everyday. It use to be about the glory and sport, but for the past half a year it's been nothing but hell and torture. It seems that everything I do has a repercussion greater then what I've done... Jack trails off. Jack: I shouldn't be venting on you like this, sorry. Gemma closes her eyes briefly. She sinks down slowly on the closest bench, pulling her legs in close to her and wrapping her arms, protectively, around them. Gemma: I don't think I like the pain that comes with the glory anymore. Jack: Me neither. No-one should have to go through what we've gone through to be what we are. I have no clue what impact this sport has on loved ones, I couldn't even imagine. Gemma: I can. Gemma looks away, blinking away tears that are threatening to spill. She’s been holding them back for months, scared to let her guard down. She covers her face with her hands as her shoulders heave. Gemma: I drove him to suicide... As much as my hatred grew, I never meant to do that. Jack blinks As he tries to jog his memory. Jack: Drove who? Gemma shakes her head, stands up, pushing her long dark hair behind her ears, nervously. Gemma: It doesn't matter, anymore... Jack remains seated. Jack: You're not going to follow, are you? That’s not the path you want to choose. Gemma smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Gemma: I don't think things are that bad? Jack: They never are when put into perspective. Gemma looks contemplative She looks off past Jack, over his shoulder, with a distant look in her eye. Gemma: This whole crazy industry... It’s bizarre. Somehow, even though, I guess, it's my life, it just seems so insignificant at times. I no longer push myself, or strive for success. I see people around me building lives, relationships, families... And I I don’t know Gemma shakes her head. Jack: You see people better off for working half as hard. You see this and you want to take it. You don't want to have to take that extra bump to look good. You think the bruises aren’t worth it. You want the magazine cover shot, the 'perfect' live, the family, the relationship, the loved ones, the God damn white picket fence... But in the end, once you've stepped on so many toes in attempting to obtain just one thing only to find out, that Gemma looks up, anticipating. Jack: You were better off. It isn’t the answer she is looking for. She looks terribly lost. Gemma: So, where do I go from here?