She'd gotten away from him, but everytime she was pivoted against any
of those guys, it brought back the memories. The pain. Sure, her life was
so much better now, but would it ever really be the same?
Torrie stood in front of the full-length mirror in her dressing room, putting another mask of beauty on to cover her self-pity and regret, contemplating her coming match, featuring herself and her lifelong, live-in boyfriend Billy Kidman in an intergender tagteam match against Nunzio and Nidia.
Once she'd gotten out, he had pulled her back in. maybe not psychically, but in her own little world, the one others referred to as her mind, where she was accepted for what she truly is. What was she though? Behind the perfect happy-go-lucky image? A slut? A whore? It was the only part of her past that she couldn't let go of.
There was a gentle knock on the door as Billy Kidman stepped through the doorway with his coveted Cruiserweight title belt- - god she didn't deserve him. He was amazing, athletic.perfect. But did he really know her? Or was he just simply dating a cover-up? A fake?
"Tor, you ready?" He walked towards her as she placed her eyeliner on the table and nodded her head in answer. "You really don't need all that make-up. You're much prettier without it." He remarked. But was she really? Of course not. If only he knew the true Torrie Wilson.
But she couldn't tell him. There was only one other person who knew and he was long past dead. She hadn't seen him in over six years. She had turned to wrestling, to leave him behind forever. At least that's what she thought.
Fighting the male wrestlers always brought back those rancid memories. And wrestling was soon to help him scope out his "lost" love, which would bring back the hell also.
The memories of when she'd gotten beat mercilessly came back as she watched Nunzio's boot connect with her arm. Adidas. It was imprinted on the bottom on Nunzio's shoes. Same as it always was HIS. This was supposed to be her escape.
Later that night-
The comfort of his arms. She didn't even feel safe there.
"What's wrong?" Billy asked after the show while they were in their hotel room at the Sunshine Hills in Calgary, Alberta. "Nothing. I'm just worried he'll come back. That's all." She answered absent-mindedly. "Tor. what are you talking about?" he asked, eyeing her with interest.
She stood up, knowing she'd already said too much. "Torrie." Billy got up to comfort her as she began to sob. "Him." She stated bluntly and brushed his hands away from her shoulders. "Who, Torrie? What's going on?"
She sighed and sat down on the couch, folding her hands in her lap. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, she had opened her mouth again. Now, she'll either have to tell Billy and love him, or later go on trial to discuss his death and the WWE's loss.
A/N- leave me a review then go steal some punk boys.
Torrie stood in front of the full-length mirror in her dressing room, putting another mask of beauty on to cover her self-pity and regret, contemplating her coming match, featuring herself and her lifelong, live-in boyfriend Billy Kidman in an intergender tagteam match against Nunzio and Nidia.
Once she'd gotten out, he had pulled her back in. maybe not psychically, but in her own little world, the one others referred to as her mind, where she was accepted for what she truly is. What was she though? Behind the perfect happy-go-lucky image? A slut? A whore? It was the only part of her past that she couldn't let go of.
There was a gentle knock on the door as Billy Kidman stepped through the doorway with his coveted Cruiserweight title belt- - god she didn't deserve him. He was amazing, athletic.perfect. But did he really know her? Or was he just simply dating a cover-up? A fake?
"Tor, you ready?" He walked towards her as she placed her eyeliner on the table and nodded her head in answer. "You really don't need all that make-up. You're much prettier without it." He remarked. But was she really? Of course not. If only he knew the true Torrie Wilson.
But she couldn't tell him. There was only one other person who knew and he was long past dead. She hadn't seen him in over six years. She had turned to wrestling, to leave him behind forever. At least that's what she thought.
Fighting the male wrestlers always brought back those rancid memories. And wrestling was soon to help him scope out his "lost" love, which would bring back the hell also.
The memories of when she'd gotten beat mercilessly came back as she watched Nunzio's boot connect with her arm. Adidas. It was imprinted on the bottom on Nunzio's shoes. Same as it always was HIS. This was supposed to be her escape.
Later that night-
The comfort of his arms. She didn't even feel safe there.
"What's wrong?" Billy asked after the show while they were in their hotel room at the Sunshine Hills in Calgary, Alberta. "Nothing. I'm just worried he'll come back. That's all." She answered absent-mindedly. "Tor. what are you talking about?" he asked, eyeing her with interest.
She stood up, knowing she'd already said too much. "Torrie." Billy got up to comfort her as she began to sob. "Him." She stated bluntly and brushed his hands away from her shoulders. "Who, Torrie? What's going on?"
She sighed and sat down on the couch, folding her hands in her lap. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, she had opened her mouth again. Now, she'll either have to tell Billy and love him, or later go on trial to discuss his death and the WWE's loss.
A/N- leave me a review then go steal some punk boys.