Jeff took deep breaths as he walked into the arena for Smackdown. He looked around anxiously as he passed random staff members on his way to the men's locker room. 'Just relax, look normal,' thought Jeff, biting his lip and looking down at his feet. But he knew it was no use, he could just feel the looks, the sympathetic glances or judging glares. They all knew he was using again.
He didn't want to start again, but Jeff just couldn't take the pressure, knowing everyone was just waiting for him to fail. Waiting for him to screw up again. He wasn't using them that bad, just when he needed them. But Jeff had a feeling the McMahons weren't gonna take that excuse.
Jeff had to go through a random drug test the previous week, and he was almost completely sure he failed. Mainly because he was doing them just hours before the test. He was really hoping the drugs hadn't gotten into his system yet, but he knew that wasn't very likely.
Jeff sighed as he walked into the locker room, setting his bag down and looking at his reflection in the mirror. How Jeff hadn't already been suspended, he had no idea. It couldn't be more obvious he was using again. The vibrant colors in his hair were the only colorful things about him these days. His skin was pale, his eyes always had bags under them and were red, either from lack of sleep or from just being high.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, Jeff was fully set on making a better life for himself this time. But it was a lot harder to just quit than it seemed. Especially when everything was going wrong. Shortly before he started again, Jeff's girlfriend left him, his house burnt down, taking his dog with it, and he had to move in with his brother, Matt. His house was still in the process of being rebuilt, so Jeff was still living with Matt, and it was taking a serious toll on their relationship. The drugs probably weren't helping with that either.
It just seemed like Matt had finally just given up with Jeff. When he found Jeff's stash, all they did was argue about it for weeks. Now they weren't speaking at all, despite living under the same roof. Jeff wanted to fix everything, but he knew it wouldn't be fixed until he quit doing drugs, and he just couldn't. The high was the only thing keeping him going.
Jeff looked at his hair in the mirror, fluffing it around. He could swear it should have bald spots with all the stress he's been under lately.
John Morrison walked in and looked over at Jeff. "Geeze, you look like shit."
"Thanks Jo," said Jeff, looking away from the mirror.
"When's the last time you slept?" Said John. "Your bags have bags."
"I don't know," said Jeff, digging through his bag for face paint.
"You don't know?" Said John. "That's not healthy. Those bags are so dark they look like black eyes."
"I'm gonna paint over them," said Jeff.
"That's not the point," said John. "That doesn't make them go away."
"I'm fine, John," said Jeff.
"I'm just worried about you," said John. "You haven't been yourself since Beth left."
Jeff took a deep breath. "I said I'm fine."
John narrowed his eyes at Jeff's bag, seeing a pill bottle in it. "What's that?"
"Nothing," said Jeff, quickly stuffing it further in his bag.
"Are you using again?" Said John.
"I have it under control," said Jeff.
"You have it under control?!" Said John. "Do you realize how bad this is?!"
"I know, just," said Jeff, before sighing. "I'm handling it. It's not like I'm doing anything that big."
"What are you using?" Said John, grabbing Jeff's bag.
"You can't just dig through my bag!" Said Jeff, trying to take it back.
John kept it away from him and pulled out the baggie, finding a lot more than just one bottle. "What the fuck is all of this?!"
"It's not that bad-"
"Not that bad?!" Said John, looking through the bag. "Do you see how much this is!"
"It's not a big deal!" Said Jeff.
"Oh, not a big deal, it's only cocaine!" Said John, holding a bag of white powder in front of Jeff's face.
"Would you shut up!" Said Jeff, taking the bag. "You don't need to announce it everyone!"
John shook his head and dropped Jeff's bag. "You need help, Jeff."
"I don't, need, help," said Jeff, glaring at John. "I can help myself."
"Obviously not!" Said John, as Jeff stuffed everything back in his bag.
"Just let me handle it!" Said Jeff, his voice cracking.
John sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you."
"I know you are," said Jeff. "But I'm an adult, I can handle my own problems."
"I'm sick of seeing this happen to you," said John.
"You think I'm not sick of this?!" Said Jeff, the tears starting to flow. "I tried, John."
"Just let someone help you!" Said John.
"Stay out of it," grumbled Jeff, pushing past John and leaving the room. As soon as he left he bumped right into the last person he wanted to see right now. CM Punk himself. Jeff and Punk just never seemed to click. Their personalities always clashed, inside the ring and out. Jeff was almost positive it was because Punk was straight edge, and Jeff, not so much.
"Wow, I didn't think it was possible for you to look worse," said Punk, looking Jeff up and down.
Jeff glared but kept his head down. "Fuck off."
Punk furrowed his brows, seeing the black under Jeff's eyes. "Are you... Ok?"
"Get out of my way," said Jeff, shoving past him.
"Hang on," said Punk, grabbing his elbow to stop him. "I know I give you a hard time, but if you're getting hurt-"
"I'm not getting hurt," said Jeff, yanking his arm free. "I'm just tired."
Punk crossed his arms. "Those are some serious bags for someone who's just 'tired'."
"Would you stay out of it?" Said Jeff. "I'm not even dating anyone right now how would I be getting hurt?"
"Well, if they're not from getting hurt, what are they from?" Said Punk, narrowing his eyes.
"From not sleeping, that's it," said Jeff.
"Oh really?" Said Punk. "Cause, for the last few weeks, you've been looking more and more drained."
"And?" Said Jeff.
"And," said Punk. "You've been dodgy, and paranoid, and to be honest, you look like you just got off a week long crack binge."
"Fuck off," said Jeff, walking away from him with a glare.
Punk sighed. "Are you even gonna be able to do our match tonight?"
"I'm fine!" Snapped Jeff, before going into the bathroom.
Punk shook his head and walked into the locker room, seeing John sitting and running his hands through his hair. "What's up with you?"
John groaned. "Jeff is, being himself."
"What's going on with him?" Said Punk.
"Stuff," said John.
"What stuff?" Said Punk.
"If he wants you to know he'll tell you," said John.
"He's using again, huh?" Said Punk.
John bit his lip. "Punk-"
"I knew it," said Punk, crossing his arms and glaring at the door. "That little junkie-"
"It's not like that," said John. "He's having a really hard time right now."
"We all have hard times," said Punk. "You don't see me doing heroin every time I have a bad day."
"He's not on heroin," said John. "I looked through his stuff."
"And you didn't tell anyone?" Said Punk. "Not only is he risking his own life, he's risking everyone else's he works with."
"I just found out," said John. "And quite frankly it's none of our business. That's between Jeff and Vince. So keep it to yourself."
Punk sighed and shook his head. "If he fucks up our match tonight-"
"He's not high right now," said John.
"Why'd he go to the bathroom with his bag?" Said Punk.
"Because we were arguing about it," said John. "He's not dumb enough to do it at work."
"If you say so," said Punk, starting to get dressed.
"Just lay off of him," said John. "You don't know him."
"I know he's a junkie-"
"He is not, a junkie," said John, glaring at him. "Don't call him that."
"I know you like him and all, but he's a junkie," said Punk, finishing changing.
"He's not-"
"Then why does he have drugs on him right now?" Said Punk. When John didn't answer Punk scoffed and left. "Exactly."
John sighed as Punk left. As much as he wanted to defend Jeff, it was getting harder and harder to do.
Jeff was warming up in the arena gym after painting his face and getting dressed in the bathroom when one of Vince's executives approached him. "Excuse me, Jeff. Vince would like to see you in his office immediately."
"Oh, ok," said Jeff, biting his lip when the executive turned around and walked away. He felt his heart start pumping as he ran his hand through his hair. 'Just keep calm,' thought Jeff. 'It's probably just about the match.' No matter how many times he told himself that on the way to Vince's office, he couldn't keep himself from freaking out at the other possibility.
And when he sat in the all too familiar chair in front of Vince's desk, and Punk wasn't there also, his anxiety skyrocketed.
Vince let out a deep sigh as he browsed through some papers on his desk. "Jeff, would you care to explain yourself to me?"
Jeff bit his lip. "What do you mean, sir?"
"Don't play dumb with me," said Vince, tossing the papers in front of him.
Jeff looked down at the papers, seeing his drug test reports. "Now," said Vince. "There wasn't just one prohibited drug, not even two, but THREE prohibited drugs in your system."
Jeff just looked down in shame and Vince tore him a new one. "How dare you risk your fellow coworkers lives for your own selfish needs! Do you realize what this will do to this company's image when this gets out?! I have never met someone so irresponsible in my life!"
It went on like that for half an hour before Vince finally cut to the point. "I've given you plenty of chances Jeff. You're done."
Jeff looked up and his eyes widened. "Wait! You can't just fire me!"
"I can, and I am," said Vince.
"Please," said Jeff, holding his hands together. "I can get better, I can-"
"I'm tired of your empty promises," said Vince.
"I swear!" Said Jeff. "I'll stop! Just please don't fire me, this is all I have left!"
Vince took a deep breath and seemed to contemplate it for a few moments. "You have, one, chance."
"Thank you," said Jeff.
"I'm not done," said Vince. "You have one chance to get your life together, or you're gone for good. You're suspended for one year starting this week, if you're not better when you get back, you're done. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir," said Jeff. As soon as he left the office, Jeff felt tears welling up and he immediately tried to find somewhere private.
Punk was in catering with some of his friends when he saw Jeff walk past. He furrowed his brows, seeing something was clearly wrong. "Hey, I'll catch you guys later," said Punk, getting up and following after Jeff. He caught up to him when they reached a secluded hallway and pulled Jeff against himself, immediately feeling tears running down his chest. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Get away from me," said Jeff, pushing him off and wiping some tears away.
"You're gonna mess up your paint doing that, you know?" Said Punk, crossing his arms.
"I don't need it anyways," said Jeff, taking the towel out of his back pocket and wiping it off.
"Why don't you need it? We have a match and you look like... Not good," said Punk.
Jeff just glared and kept wiping it off. "We don't have a match anymore."
"What do you mean we don't have a match?" Said Punk.
"I got suspended," said Jeff, looking down at his feet, feeling the tears flowing again.
"Suspended?!" Said Punk. "Our storyline is the hottest thing going right now! What stupid thing could you have possibly done to... You got caught using, didn't you?"
"I got drug tested last week," said Jeff, sniffling. "I'm suspended for a year."
Punk groaned and ran his hands over his face. "Damn it, Jeff." He sighed and hugged Jeff again when he started crying. "Stop crying, you're getting my shirt wet."
Jeff just pulled away again and started walking off. "Just leave me alone, we're not friends."
Punk let him go and crossed his arms, shaking his head before heading to Vince's office. If he wasn't fighting Jeff tonight, he was fighting someone else. There was no way he letting someone else's mistake mess up his career.
AN: Hey guys! Let me know what you think so far! Hope you like it! :) and for people who read my other stories, The Real Monsters next chapter is coming SOON, so keep an eye out for it!