A/N: I am relisting this story after I somehow lost it and my others. So, you may have read this previously. If you haven't, I hope you enjoy it and take a moment to send a review. Set in November, 2003 shortly after Lita's return.
Room 593
I need air. I feel like I can't breath.
The young woman rose from the floral bedspread she'd been laying on for the past hour, deep in thought. As hard as she tried, the memories and pain was just still too fresh to put out of her mind.
Maybe some air will help. She walked towards the glass door that exited the small hotel room onto the balcony, stopping first to grab one of those tiny bottles of liquor from the room's mini-bar. Hell, I think I'll need more than this. She opened the little door again and hastily grabbed all the bottles, stocking eight of them into her arms. She slowly finished the walk out onto the balcony and into the clear night air.
Setting the little bottles down on the patio table, she flopped roughly down into the patio chair beside it. Staring blankly at the little bunch, she methodically began arranging them in alphabetical order. Once that task was complete, she picked up the first bottle and twisted the top off, tossing the lid half-heartedly in the garbage can in the corner. She then downed the little bottle's contents, refusing to wince as the bitter liquid slid down her throat.
Sighing, she leaned back into the chair. She thought back once again to earlier in the evening.
"What went wrong?" she moaned aloud. I don't understand it. We were doing so well. Ihad no idea he felt that way. I know I haven't got to see him as much as I did when I was still at home, but still…. I had no clue he was feeling alone… lonely. I had no idea he was angry with me. If I'd known, we could have talked… we could have worked things out. I know we could've. We always have before.
She raked her hand through her long red hair. Leaning over, she cracked open the next bottle sitting on the table and took a long swig.
Bastard. I actually thought he was going to propose to me. How could he betray me this way? All I've ever done is love him.She felt her eyes tear up. I truly thought he loved me too. The first tear slipped unbidden down her cheek. She then curled up into the chair and set the watershed of tears free. Lita sobbed into her knees, the wind whipping her mane of red hair around her shoulders.
Room 1274
What a freaking night, the man thought, exiting his bathroom after taking a long hot shower. He thought the spray of the water would help him to relax, to release his mind of the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that chased through it. He was wrong. All he could think about was the events of earlier that evening. Flopping down into the hard chair, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. He surfed through the channels for a minute, but he wasn't really seeing what was on each channel. His mind refused to stop reliving the night's earlier events. Suddenly, his emotions got the best of him and before he even knew it, he forcefully pitched the remote control angrily, missing the tv. The black unit slammed against the wall beside the television, shattering into hundreds of small plastic pieces.
The man rose, pushing his hand through his long curly hair. Looking towards the window, he noticed for the first time the glass door that exited out onto his balcony. Rising, he walked over and pushed the glass door aside. The cool night breeze hit him immediately, washing over him, much like the water from the shower had before. Spying a chair, he drug it out of the moonlight so he could sit in the darkened shadows of the patio. Yeah, sitting in the dark would be perfect, given he was in such a gloomy mood anyhow.
That bastard Bischoff, he thought angrily, covering his eyes with his hands. He told me he just wanted to humiliate her. He never said he'd fire her. He said she was too much fun to toy with. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and set further back in his chair.
I thought I did the right thing. I really did. I can't believe I fell so readily for Bischoff's lies.
His mind reached back to the phone calls earlier that week between himself and the smarmy GM. "She's cheating on you kid. I've seen her hanging all over Christian like a two dollar whore. She's not the girl that you think she is. She's changed since she's come back. She told me she'd do whatever it took to get back on Raw, back into the hunt for the women's title. As you can see kid, it's worked so far."
He was doubtful, hell, this was his girl Eric was talking about. But when Jericho had backed Eric's story up, the dark-haired man allowed anger torule his heart instead of his head. He believed the GM. And Jericho had been his friend, he surely wouldn't lie to him. Must have been like leading a lamb to slaughter.
He sighed. We both got screwed here, Red, and it's all my fault. I did what I thought had to be done. It was the only way I'd get a job, seeing how Smackdown is in such a sorry state of affairs. I highly doubt that stupid excuse of a GM Stephanie even realizes I'm gone.
But, damn, I also wanted her to feel bad. I wanted her to feel hurt, like I felt. And, yeah, I wanted to break it off with her. I'm just so damn mad in general. We belonged together, and not only did she have to go off and make the decision to return to Raw without even asking me what I thought, in the back of my mind at the time I also thought she was cheating. I had a right to be upset. Bischoff told me she'd been flaunting around the Raw locker room, flirting with Christian incessantly. He told me she was cheating on me, and had been for a while. He told me she was playing me for a fool.The dark-haired man hesitated while his conscious fought an internal struggle with his head. I did the right thing, didn't I?
He looked up then, and noticed a slight figure moving on another one of the balconies across the courtyard, several floors down from where he sat. Squinting his eyes, he gasped as he recognized the person. The red hair was unmistakable. She was sitting on the balcony alone, just as he was, her shoulders slumped forward, her knees drawn to her chest. She held her head in her hands. Was she crying? Matt Hardy's eyes were glued to the site across the courtyard.
Oh God, I did the wrong thing.
Room 859
The key clicked in the lock and slowly the door opened. Pushing it ajar, the man reached along the wall, feeling for the light switch. After a few seconds of searching, he was successful, and the room was immediately bathed in a dull light.
Ugh, he thought. Why can't these rooms ever look any different? Sighing, he tossed his travel bag down on one of the double beds in the room while he flopped down unceremoniously on the other. Bouncing a little too hard, he caught himself before he lost his balance and fell off the bed completely. The man reached up and rubbed his hand through his short blond hair, chuckling at his actions. And, my compliments to the hotel bartender on a job well done, he thought.
He reached down and clumsily removed one shoe, then worked on the other, kicking the other off and sending it careening across the room. He flopped back on the bed, covering his eyes with his hands. The events from earlier that evening floated through his head.
Earlier at the Arena
"C'mon Christian. Hold up your end of the bargain."
"I know man, and I will. It's just…" he trailed off.
"What?"
"It's just, I kind of feel bad for her, you know. She's actually a pretty cool chick when you talk to her. Not to mention she has a great body."
"Christian, what's wrong with you, buddy?" his friend asked incredulously. "This is the same chick that hurricanrana'd you off a ladder a few years back. Are you actually starting to have feelings for this girl?"
"What? No way. I'm cool, man."
His friend got up in his face. "Good. Don't forget why we're doing this amigo. We have a hefty payday coming. Don't screw this up for us. Your job is to keep her thrown off guard, so do it." The man backed up again and headed for the locker room door. "I gotta go meet the blonde." He turned around and pointed at his partner. "Take care of the redhead."
"Yeah, man. I'm all over it. Hey – " he called out, stopping his friend in his tracks. "Just what is Eric going to do tonight
anyway?"
The other man broke into a huge grin. "Watch and see my friend. It's gonna be beautiful. Simply beautiful."
The blonde haired man sighed, breaking out of the haze of the memory. He sat up, rubbing his face. Geez it's stuffy in here, he thought. Standing, he ambled over to the balcony door, sliding the glass door open and stepping out into the cool night air.
He raised his arms and stretched, breathing in the cool night air. It was a little windy, but he liked that. He stood still in the
air, stretching his neck to relieve some of the stiffness and tension that the alcohol hadn't taken care of. He lifted his head
upwards, noting how beautiful the stars were that evening. He twisted to the left, then to the right. When he bent his head down, that's when he spotted her.
Oh Lita, he thought, focusing his eyes on the wayward figure curled up on a balcony across the courtyard. Don't cry. It will be alright. I got you your job back. He thought back to his conversation with his boss that'd happened a bit later that evening, after the object of his attention had been dumped by her boyfriend. To make it worse, Matt had caused her to lose their match against Molly and Eric, with the result being Eric firing her in the center of the ring.
Watching on the monitor in the back, he'd been livid. He knew the Eric had some sort of plan in store for her, that the GM was angry with her for rebuffing his earlier advances. Actually, he had some sort of warped vendetta against both Trish and Lita for that matter. At the time Christian could care less. His part was to keep her thrown off by flirting with her, keep her busy. But that was all he'd signed up for. He hadn't counted on liking her as he got to know her. He cringed at the cruel the way she'd just been humiliated. He didn't know what made him do it, but as soon as they'd left the ring, he stomped into the GM's office and demanded that Eric give her job back.
Eric's Office
"What? No way, I am not doing that Christian. Did you not see what just happened out there?" the dark haired GM laughed at his success. "I finally got rid of her. And left her in tears at that. Beautiful. It couldn't have gone any better."
"It was wrong Eric," anger flashed in his eyes. "You know it."
Bischoff just laughed. "Yeah, maybe. But that's what I love about being in charge."
The Canadian could see he had to think fast. "Fine. Then I want to use my favor then."
"No problem. Glad to see you're coming around. Anything you want my boy. What'll it be?"
Christian didn't skip a beat. "I want Lita to get her job back."
Back on the railing, Christian leaned on the railing, eyes focused on the redhead across the way. "Please Lita, don't be sad."
Room 593
Lita dropped her knees back down, willing herself to silence her tears, at least for the time being. C'mon girl. Pull it
together. Crying never got you anything. Standing up, she wiped her eyes and moved to lean over the railing, the wind still whipping her tousled red hair around her.
Ok, a little self-talk here. Let's see, at least Christian got my job back for me. That's a good thing, I think. Her attempt at self-talk degenerated quickly. Although I'm not sure I want to be around here anymore. How can I face Matt again after what he did? How am I going to deal with that bastard Bischoff week after week? And what in this world is Christian really after? I don't get him. He's hated me for years, now all of a sudden he's saving my job? This is all so confusing. Once again, Lita dropped her head in her hands. Ok, Lita. This isn't healthy. Enough wallowing. Suck it up and survive. It'll hurt, and it'll be awkward, but I'll deal with it. Slowly. I'll someday make peace with myself with what happened with Matt, and I'll come to figure out what Christian's up to. Until then, I'll follow my pal Stone Cold's motto: don't trust anybody.
On the balcony of Room 593, a broken-hearted redhead stood, staring up into the night sky, trying so hard to be brave. After all, in the end, she herself was all she had. The only person she could truly count on. Looking upward, she spotted a shooting star.
Room 1274
Matt Hardy sat glued to his now ex-girlfriend's form. He was mesmerized, as if by sheer telepathy he could convey to her the plethora of emotions he felt: sorrow, anger, and most of all confusion. He had to find a way to fix all this. To make it
right. Glancing upward, he caught the site of a shooting star passing overhead.
Room 859
Christian stood on the balcony, caught up in the sight of Lita across the way. His mind raced as he thought about how he'd relate to her going forward. He was sure that now more than ever, she'd be leery of men, even him, given his ties to their boss and to Jericho. He'd have to work extra hard to get her to see his actions had been legitimate. Watching her look upward, he also glanced heavenward, looking for what had caught her attention. He smiled briefly as he too saw the shooting star streaking across the night sky.
In Room 1274, a sullen dark-haired southerner made his wish. I wish for her to forgive me and take me back. I need her to know I'm sorry and for everything to be ok again.
In Room 859, at the same time a blonde Canadian also took a chance in the folklore, making a bid of his own. I wish for her to want me, to believe in me. I want her to know I'll never hurt her.
And in Room 593, Lita glanced heavenward, making her own wish on the shooting star.
"I wish…." Sighing, she finished her thoughts privately. The wind whipped around her once more, embracing her in a ghostly hug as goose bumps ran up her bare arms. Turning then with a smile, she headed back into her bedroom, sliding the glass door shut behind her.
Fin.