A/N: I don't own the WWE or any of its brands and likenesses. I also don't own Matt or Jeff Hardy, even though I would love to. This is just something that I came up with when I heard the song "Let Me Be Myself" by 3 Doors Down. Please R & R. Enjoy.
Let Me Be Myself
"Why are you acting like this? Matt never did."
"How come you can't do this? Matt always could."
"Why can't you be more like Matt?"
It was phrases like these that made Jeff Hardy hate his brother with a passion. He knew that it was a horrible thing to think, but all that he really wanted was for people to accept the fact that he was not, and could never be, Matt. He was Jeff, the artistic one. One-half of the Hardy Boyz and yin to Matt's yang. And nothing anyone could say or do would ever make him forget who he was.
"Whatcha doing, baby bro?" Matt asked, coming up behind Jeff, who was curled in an armchair in the hotel lobby, notebook in hand.
"Huh?" Jeff said, looking up in surprise at his older brother. He hadn't heard Matt arrive, and he quickly snapped his notebook shut. "Oh, nothing. Just writing some stuff."
"Some stuff, huh?" Matt repeated. The eldest Hardy positioned himself in the chair directly across from Jeff's, moving so gracefully that Jeff felt a familiar pang of envy in the pit of his stomach. He was used to being jealous of Matt by now; his entire life, Jeff had wished he could be more like his brother. And he knew that their parents had wished that, too. And that was the part that hurt, the fact that they couldn't accept and love him for who he was.
"Earth to Jeffro." Matt snapped his fingers in front of Jeff's face, causing him to jerk back with surprise. "What's the matter with you lately? You're distracted all the time, and you've been off your game in the ring. Is something wrong?"
Yeah, Matt, there actually is something wrong. Everyone wants me to be more like you, but none of them have taken the time to realize that I don't want to be you. I want to be me, Jeff thought. But he couldn't tell Matt that, so instead what he said was, "I guess I'm just tired. You know, all the traveling and stuff."
Matt smiled. "You mean jet-lag?"
"Yep. Jet-lag, exactly." Jeff agreed, relieved that Matt had provided him with the perfect explanation.
"Don't worry about it, it'll pass." Matt advised. Then he leaned forward, his right hand reaching for the notebook in Jeff's lap. "Can I read what you were writing?"
"No!" Jeff quickly snatched the notebook up before Matt could get to it and held it protectively against his chest.
Matt blinked at him and then sat back, looking startled. "Oh, okay. Sorry, I shouldn't have reached for it like that. I know how you are with your writing."
Jeff studied Matt's face, surprised at the loneliness he saw there. His popular older brother was lonely? Impossible. But when Matt's eyes met his, he saw sadness and hurt in them. And that's when Jeff realized that he had been kind of blowing Matt off lately. He had been angry with everyone, not just his brother, but he had taken it out on the one person who had nothing to do with the way people were treating him. Matt had no idea that people kept comparing Jeff to him, and he didn't deserve to hurt like Jeff was.
"No, I'm sorry." Jeff sighed, letting his guard down a bit and relaxing. "I've been an ass to you lately, Matty, and there's no excuse for it. I'm just...well, here." Jeff handed his prized notebook to Matt, a little nervous about sharing it with his brother. "Everything you need to know is in there."
Matt took the notebook and held it gingerly in his hands, as if it was a priceless treasure. He knew full well that Jeff never shared his writing with anybody, not even him, and that this was a huge breakthrough in their relationship. "Thank you for letting me read this, Jeffro," he said, looking up at his little brother and smiling tenderly. "I know how hard it is for you to let people in."
Jeff looked away, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna go see if they've got our room key yet," he said quickly. Leaping to his feet, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior hurried off across the lobby.
Matt watched him go, love and warmth swelling up inside of him. He wished sometimes that he could be more like Jeff. Jeff was lovable and sweet. He had that feeling about him that made you want to wrap him up tight and never let him go. But he would never admit that to Jeff. Matt was supposed to be the confident, strong one. He couldn't show any signs of doubt in who he was.
Shaking these thoughts off, Matt refocused his attention on the notebook in his hands. Pulling back the cover, Matt stared at the first page. It was covered in writing, some of it in pen, some in pencil, some with dark lines, some with light. But it was all the same; one phrase, written over and over again:
Let me be myself.