To Pique An Interest
Introduction & Chapter 1: Eye Contact
Brief Summary: The Rated-R Superstar summons a fan by ringside to his private bus and offers her what could have been the night of her life…
Author's Note: This idea suddenly came to my head when I reading a bunch of one-shots involving various wrestlers inviting female fans to their private buses/locker rooms and so I decided to take a spin of my own, this time featuring the Rated-R Superstar and now (sadly) retired Edge. The reason why I chose Edge instead of someone common like John Cena or Randy Orton is because I thought it would've suited his Rated R-ness :) Also, this story is told in first person point of view through the OC's eyes, though there will occasionally be chapters where the story is told through Edge's point of view.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own any name or brand that is recognizable in this story; however I will go on to say that I own the rights to all the OCs in this story, including the main character, Lilly Hazel.
April 26th, 2009: Backlash
Finally…I'd waited for this moment for all of my life. I was finally going to see the WWE live in action, particularly at one of their pay-per-views, which had come to the city of Providence, Rhode Island, where I was in the process of receiving my Bachelor's Degrees in both Photography and Graphic Design at the Rhode Island School of Design. I'd just turned 26 the day before and so my friends decided to treat me by bringing me to a WWE pay-per-view that had stopped by in Rhode Island, my excitement level reaching to the maximum when they revealed a few days ago that they'd gotten us ringside seats right next to the announcer's table and by the corner of a ring where the majority of wrestlers stood on the turnbuckle and posed for the screaming fans in attendance.
I was extremely well prepared for that night, decking out in full WWE gear and spending the past two days decorating signboards that supported my favorite wrestlers and mocked the ones that I disliked. Out of all the wrestlers that I admired, Randy Orton, Christian, and Triple H to name a few, the one Superstar I particularly favored out of them was none other than The Rated-R Superstar himself, Edge.
I'd been a lifelong fan of the WWE, since the early days when it was still the World Wrestling Federation, until the World Wildlife Fund had to sue them and all just because of a simple shared acronym. I recalled my childhood days when I watched guys like Bret Hart and Hulk Hogan wrestle each other in the ring with my dad and a bowl of popcorn on our worn, leather couch back in my hometown of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Unlike kids my age that watched the Blue Jays hit home runs at the nearby ballpark, whenever I returned home from school, I'd be watching replays of the several Wrestlemania cassettes we'd purchase from the video store, and every month whenever a pay-per-view came on, my dad, my brother, and I would huddle in the TV room and watch Bret Hart, our childhood hero, in action.
Then came the year 1998, when I was fifteen and in the midst of being driven boy crazy by my dreaded puberty hormones, and I returned home from high school, having just flunked my history test, when I flipped on the television in my room (given to me as a fifteenth birthday present, but it was our old one sine we replaced it with a new one of the latest design) and waited for Raw is War to show.
That was when I finally abandoned my childhood wrestling heroes for the man that debuted that night, on June 22nd on Raw is War—Edge.
I recalled that night I first saw him, and with my exploding teenage boy-crazy hormones, I instantly fell for Adam Copeland—his long mane of wavy blonde hair and piercing green eyes immediately captured my attention. Every history class I dreamed about him, and in every art class I drew sketches of him. My friends thought I was crazy, but hell yeah; I was crazy for Edge.
Every day when I returned home from school, I'd make a headfirst to my bedroom, where I'd lock myself in there and anxiously wait for my newest crush to appear on my television screen. I still have the taping of his very first pay-per-view match at Summerslam, where he teamed up with Sable against Marc Mero and Jacqueline.
Since falling for Edge, I'd purchased every single pay-per-view where he was involved in. I'd watch Raw and/or Smackdown just to watch him in action. I have posters of him displayed on the walls of my bedroom back home in Toronto, remembering to bring my favorite one of him—the one of him holding his World Heavyweight Championship belt on his shoulder and signaling with his fingers to come to him—to college with me, where I would hang it next to my bed in my dorm room. Every morning when I woke up, his face was the first thing I'd see, and every night before I slept, he was the last thing I wished goodnight.
When I was fifteen, he became my very first wrestler crush. For my eighteenth birthday, my dad gave me an entire package of Edge merchandise, and I still keep all my merchandise in the apartment I'd purchased in Toronto a month ago. When I was twenty-two I shut my eyes in agony as he and his then-girlfriend, Lita, engaged in a 'live sex celebration' in the middle of the ring on that dreaded episode of RAW.
And tonight, when I'm 26 years old, I'll be watching him live for the very first time in my life.
When I found out my wrestler crush since high school was main eventing Backlash right here in Providence, Rhode Island, I couldn't wipe the stupid grin off of my face, knowing that for the very first time I was watching a live WWE show, not only would I get to see Edge in person, but to make my first time experience even more exciting, I, along with the rest of my buddies, had the front row right next to where Michael Cole, Jerry 'The King' Lawler, and good ol' JR did their commentary and where ring announcer Lillian Garcia sat after introducing the competitors of the match. I absolutely couldn't believe how close we were actually going to be to some of the most famous professional wrestling personalities in the biggest promotion in the world.
The week before Backlash I ensured I had the majority of my assignments done in order to clear up the day itself, so I could meet up with my friends and get ready for the event and all, since Kayla told me over the phone about three days ago that we'd be heading for the bar after the show along with our gang. Throughout the week I even began making signs supporting him along with my favorite wrestlers, and since I was an artist, I even helped my other friends make signs too.
For example, Kayla, who's literally in love with John Cena—I honestly couldn't see what was so interesting about that man; he's not even good looking and he just can't wrestle period—wanted me to create a sign for her that read, "JOHN CENA'S SHIRTS LOOK BETTER ON ME", these 'shirts' she was talking about being the multiple shirts in various colors Cena has worn over the years; his fashion sense is like a bowl of Fruity Pebbles (Author: The Rock vs John Cena reference over here…teehee).
As for myself, aside from signs supporting my favorite wrestlers and dissing the ones I didn't like (The Miz and Michael Cole, in particular), I created two signs—one on each side of a giant poster board, of course—specially for my number one and longtime wrestler crush, Edge. The first one was a short little slogan that expressed how much I lurved him:
"I WANT EDGE TO POSE FOR FIVE SECONDS FOR ME."
And the second one…well…that was actually Laurel's idea, who was one of my best friends and loved to tease me about my crush on Edge:
"DEAR EDGE, MY 26TH BIRTHDAY WAS YESTERDAY. CAN I HAVE A KISS PLEASE?"
Even if Edge did see my sign, though, I strongly doubted he'd do anything about it, though, as I was nothing more than a lovesick fan, a crazy, lovesick fan that had been obsessed with that same guy for eleven years of her life.
Obviously, and sadly, I had no significance to him whatsoever. Though I fantasized about Adam Copeland, at the same time I knew the only way I'd get close to talking to him would be at an autograph signing, and unfortunately today, he wasn't scheduled for any meet & greet sessions with the fans this time around.
However, I did spend the entire day before the event getting pampered and primed, starting with a mani & pedi after lunch with Kayla and Laurel, and then returning home to get my hair done by Laurel, a beauty stylist in training. Half an hour before the guys arrived to pick us up, with my auburn red waves clipped in a sweet side ponytail, I slipped on my Edge shirt that I'd recently purchased from the online shop and my studded acid-washed gray skinny jeans, plus my black leather ankle boots from Hot Topic. Laurel helped me with my make-up as well, giving my hazel green eyes a slightly smoky shade of blue and dark green for a 'pop'. She assured me this was "to grab your Rated-R dream hunk's attention when he comes over to our section", though I wasn't too much of a fan of make-up.
"Laurel, the guy is in his late 30's," I protested, when Laurel demanded that I wear a black mini dress she'd gotten me for my birthday yesterday, "and besides, I'm dressed up for a WWE pay-per-view, not a night of clubbing and partying."
"Who cares, Lilly? Tonight is your night, you've got to actually dress like the hot, sexy woman you are," argued Laurel, narrowing her eyes disapprovingly at my slightly too big Edge shirt, studded acid-washed gray jeans, and black studded ankle boots. In case anyone would like to question my fashion sense, I give all credibility to my love for heavy metal bands—Metallica, Disturbed, and Slipknot to name a few. I loved anything leather over anything cashmere, I liked studded black jackets over soft, knitted cardigans, and I preferred chains, studs, and anything black or red over pastels and anything designer couture. And it quite helped that Adam and I both had the same musical tastes as well.
"Laurel, we've gone over this," I sighed. Unlike the heavy metal rocker like I am, Laurel loved everything and anything that was trendy and advertised in fashion magazines such as Seventeen and Allure. She could potentially be an Anna Wintour, whoever that was, if she were a little older and more crabby. Sometimes I found myself annoyed at Laurel's disapproval of my fashion and musical tastes, as much as I loved her.
"Okay, I have a way we can negotiate this; no way are you walking into a club dressed like you came from Six Flags," said Laurel, "how about once the show's done, I'll get Brian to put up the shades in his van and you can change out of those clothes and into this cute little dress…"
"As long as I get to wear my favorite leather jacket," I interrupted her, "and my black studded ankle boots."
I silently thought the black and silver mini dress Laurel got for me was actually pretty cute, but I really wasn't a dress kind of person. Laurel, however, refused to listen to me when I told her that.
"Lilly, it's either this cute little thing or that strapless cut-out leopard print mini I made you try on at the store, which by the way, I also bought along with the black one," threatened Laurel.
It didn't take long before I quickly chose the black one.
I felt my nerves jumping in excitement as I squirmed in my seat, waiting for the show to get back to commercial break. So far, the preliminary shows had passed, my favorites among them being Christian's ECW Championship match against Jack Swagger, whom, to my happiness, he successfully defeated to capture his first gold since returning back to the WWE early this year. I smiled as I remembered screaming in my beanbag when I came home from a class, to find one of my all-time favorite wrestlers making a spectacular return after four years in TNA on the ECW brand.
The other match that captured my attention was the 'I Quit' Match between the Hardy brothers, Matt and Jeff. I had to admit that this storyline was a sharp contrast from the old days of the Hardy Boyz, when the two brothers were one of the most successful tag teams in the history of tag team wrestling. I was pleased to see that Jeff won; I personally preferred his daring, high-flying extreme maneuvers over the more technical and traditional Matt.
The 'Divas' match, or should I say, Santino in drag versus Beth Phoenix for the 'Miss Wrestlemania' title was an absolute joke. Beth is currently my favorite Diva along with Natalya, and I found Santino to be hilarious, but I personally thought his gimmick of 'Santina' was just completely ridiculous. Should've been out of the card, if you'd ask me.
The first main event match had also finished for the night, with Randy Orton and his Legacy partners defeating Triple H, Batista, and Shane McMahon (I met him once and he turned out to be a complete ass to anyone whose look didn't scream skank), and Orton won the WWE Championship from Trips. Though I was disappointed Hunter lost his title, I was happy Orton and the Legacy won the match. About halfway through the match when Cody Rhodes fell onto the ground outside the ring, I was the only one who screamed for him and cheered him on, and I swore Ted DiBiase's eye darted towards where our section was. I shook it off and continued to watch Batista and Trips double-teaming on poor little Cody while trying to ignore Brian and Connor's chants of 'BATISTA! BATISTA! BATISTA!'
When Randy stood on the turnbuckle nearest to our corner with his newly-won title sparkling gallantly underneath the spotlights, amidst the boos I heard Laurel squealing, "Raaaaanddyyyyyyy!" and this resulted in Randy actually glancing down at the two of us and giving us a small smirk, trying hard not to break out of his Viper character. I slapped Laurel on the back as she battered her eyelashes at him, reminding him that he was already taken, in particular, married and with a child.
Hell, I thought Randy was freaking hot, with the badass tattoos and all, but not only was I aware that he was already married and had a kid (who by the way, is absolutely adorable), but my heart was saved for the man fighting John Cena in the final match of the event—the Last Man Standing match for the World Heavyweight Championship.
"This is the Last Man Standing match, and it is for the World Heavyweight Championship!" said ring announcer Lillian Garcia, "now in this match, there are no pinfalls, disqualifications, submissions, or countouts. The only way to win is to incapacitate your opponent where he cannot answer the referee's count of ten."
You think you know me…
The light bulb in my head just suddenly clicked in my head, when the thrashing heavy metal guitars of that familiar entrance theme began booming through the speakers, and I instantly jumped out of my seat and screaming my lungs out like a headless chicken, waving my sign frantically when images of the veteran wrestler I followed for eleven years flashed on the giant Titantron screen. Ignoring the boos from a majority of the people, or should I say little kids, I couldn't help but amplify my screams even louder when that man himself, his beautiful blonde hair long till it reached his collarbone drenched, walked onto the stage, a menacing glare on his face. He wore his signature trench coat on top of his red, black, and white ring attire, and he certainly wore the tights well. He performed his signature pose as his fireworks erupted, as part of his entrance.
"Introducing the challenger, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 241 pounds, he is the Rated-R Superstar…EDGE!"
Though his expression was filled with rage, I couldn't help but melt at the sight of my huge wrestler crush walking down the ramp towards the ring, sprinting the last bit of it and sliding swiftly underneath the bottom rope. He gets up and walks towards the turnbuckle opposite our corner, much to my disappointment, and does his signature head banging and 'rock star' hand sign for the crowd. Since Edge's character was a heel feuding with a very popular face (and also very overrated) John Cena, more than half of the arena was booing him. I, on the other hand, loved him, face or heel. It didn't matter because I still admired him even when he portrayed the cynical villain he was supposed to be at the moment.
Edge jumps off of the opposite turnbuckle and begins walking over to our side of the ring and leans onto the ropes, glancing around us, and that's when it happens.
His eyes dart over to where I was literally jumping up and down excitedly, waving the side of my Edge sign that read "I WANT EDGE TO POSE FOR FIVE SECONDS FOR ME", and at that very moment, our eyes meet. I notice he's reading my sign momentarily and then smirks at me, nodding slightly to show approval of my slogan.
"Lilly! Dude! Edge just looked over at us!" yelled Brian, his voice barely audible as it was mostly drowned out by Edge's fast paced, hardcore entrance theme, sung by Alter Bridge, one of my favorite bands as well.
"What do you mean us?" argued Torrey, another one of my guy friends who had come with us, "He was looking at Lil's sign!"
"More like looking at our girl Lilly over here!" Kayla shot in.
I swore, at that very moment, my heart almost burst out from my chest. Edge, the Rated-R Superstar, just made eye contact with me. But reminding myself it probably wouldn't happen again, I reluctantly shook it off.
"Please!" I protested, "it's probably part of his cocky, arrogant gimmick!"
"Well you know what, Lil, this isn't the first time a WWE Superstar has glanced over at our section and smirked at us," Connor pointed out, "remember when Laurel squealed for Randy and then he looked over at the two of you?"
"We should definitely go to a house show where Randy's taking part in," sighed Laurel dreamily, "then I can do that again and he can come flash us that sexy smirk again, Lilly!"
After the 30-second silence followed where Edge was getting pumped for his match, his opponent's hip hop music cuts the silence in the arena, and I heard every single little kid around me screeching for their hero and the defending World Heavyweight Champion, Super Cena…I mean John Cena.
Everyone in our group remains seated and boos Edge's opponent as loudly as we can, well except for Kayla of course, who went absolutely nuts when Super Cena himself walked out onto the stage with the World Heavyweight Championship—which I knew was going to end up on Edge's waist by the end of tonight—buckled around his waist. He saluted the cheering crowd, mostly comprised of housewives and their kids, while we joined the other half of the arena—the guys who've watched wrestling for years and way before Super Cena had to ruin the company—in booing and hissing Edge's opponent.
I nearly get a heart attack when I hear a shrieking Kayla professing her love for Cena out loud when he starts taking off his shirt—his muscles are nowhere near as nice and natural as Edge's—and he looks around to see where he throws his shirt. His eyes dart towards our corner and smiles at Kayla, who gets even more excited and that makes Connor's teeth grit in jealousy, intending to throw his shirt at her, but he tosses it too far and some random little kid in the back grabs it.
"Awwww…" sighed Kayla disappointingly, "he was going to throw it at me!"
"We don't care," the rest of us said in unison.
"You guys are so mean!" exclaimed Kayla, "I love John Cena!"
"Well, the rest of us don't give a damn, Kay," snapped Connor, "the guy can't wrestle for shit."
"Well who cares? I think he's hot and dreamy," sighed Kayla.
"I think he looks like a monkey," argued Connor, and he and Kayla begin to bicker over Cena. Brian, Torrey, Laurel, and I can't help but burst into peals of laughter as we watched Connor and Kayla argue like children. Somehow I couldn't help but wonder if the two of them secretly had feelings for each other.
I laughed and turned back to watch Edge being chased around the ring by Cena and slipping back into ring, backing away from his opponent to represent his cowardly heel character. Throughout the whole match, I ignored the little kids around us and cheered for my teenage dream guy, screaming for him and waving my sign frantically whenever he looked our way.
And speaking of looking our way, this incident so happened to occur several times throughout the 28-minute match, for example, at this one instance where Edge was cornering an injured Cena, who was crouched down on the barricade right in front of us. I knew he was actually coming for his opponent, not purposely walking over to where we were, but when Edge picked Cena up by the head and the little kids around us staring yelling, "YOU SUCK, EDGE!" he looked up at where I was holding his sign, tilting his head towards me, and yelled back at them, "SHUT UP! THIS ONE HERE'S GOT TASTE!"
Our jaws all dropped when we realized that Edge was indirectly addressing me.
Adam Copeland? THE Adam Copeland, addressing me? How was that possible? He could've been referring to Brian or Connor.
"No way, Lil, he was so talking about you!" said Laurel, "look! He's charging this way towards Cena!"
I snapped back to reality when Edge, eyes wide, bloodshot and his faced screwed with fury, came charging towards our corner, where Cena was lying on the floor in front of us, and at the very last second, Cena got up and tossed Edge over his head and over the barricade…
… into the empty aisle right next to my seat.
I screamed in fright and jumped out of my seat and backed nearly ten feet as Edge's 6'5'' body nearly came flying and crashing onto me, the crowd gasping and cheering excitedly when they witnessed the Rated R Superstar crash and burn right before their very eyes, just a few feet away from where they stood in their seats. While the little kids around us (and Kayla) cheered happily for Cena, the rest of us went 'ooooohhhh!'.
I, on the other hand, honestly didn't know what the hell I was doing, and peered over the blond wrestler lying crumpled on the ground next to me, who was entirely doused with sweat from head to toe, frantically asking him, "Are you okay?"
Then came Freaky Moment #3, when a panting Edge sat up from the ground and placed his hand right where my lap was, using my thigh as his support to get up from the ground. I felt my heart once again leap up to where to my throat was and instantly felt short of breath, when the man himself stood up and smiled at me softly, running his free hand through his long blond hair. It wasn't that Edge smirk he put on as his character.
That literally left Kayla and Laurel squealing at me excitedly while Brian, Torrey, and Connor ooohed and whistled at me.
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" squealed Kayla, "Edge just touched you! He actually touched you!"
"Damn, Hazel, you're getting lucky tonight," teased Torrey.
"Looks like you've gotten a certain Rated R Superstar's attentions, Lilly Hazel," commented Connor.
"Remind me to sit on the aisle seat the next time a house show comes by," exclaimed Laurel, "then when Randy gets tossed over the barricade, he can use me as support to get up from the ground and then smile at me like that!"
"In your dreams, Walton," scoffed Brian, "you're just not as cute as our girl Lilly."
"Shut up, guys," I sighed, having difficulty trying to ignore a few female fans around me, who were all snarling at me enviously.
After an exciting match-up where Edge finally won the match after successfully incapacitating Cena to the point where he couldn't answer the ten count, I cheered and screamed for him when he stood up on the turnbuckle, boasting his newly-won World Heavyweight Championship from former titleholder Cena, not giving a damn about the disappointed little kids (and Kayla) around me, sighing and expressing their disappointment in Cena's loss. All I cared was that for my very first live WWE show, I got to watch my favorite wrestler, Edge, win the World Heavyweight Championship.
He strutted over to our side of the ring and leaned against the ropes, showing off his gleaming gold to the mostly pro-Cena audience. At this point, I noticed something rather peculiar: he was once again observing our corner of ringside (I still couldn't quite tell if he was looking at me or the person behind me), and I could feel his piercing green eyes burning throughout my entire body. He smirked at me and gave me a wink after his eyes traveled along the message on my signboard: "DEAR EDGE, MY 26TH BIRTHDAY WAS YESTERDAY. CAN I HAVE A KISS PLEASE?"
These moments couldn't have been part of the script. Had they been part of his character, he wouldn't have even glanced over at me more than once. It couldn't be possible if he really was checking me out. I knew from various verified sources that he was dating some woman named Charissa, so why would he be interested in some nobody fan like me?
"C'mon Lil! We're going to the club! Go get changed!" yelled Laurel, as we slowly made our way to escape the packed crowd and headed towards Brian's van.
"And boys, no peeking!" she added, narrowing her eyes at Torrey and Brian, both guys who used to have a crush on me. Brian shrugged and I couldn't help but burst out laughing when Torrey tried to hide his disappointment.
The guys waited outside the van while Laurel, Kayla, and I got changed quickly. It was a good thing Brian's van was spacious enough for us to change in. Before shutting the doors, Brian blocked out the windows so no one would peek in.
"Time to get dolled up, Lilly!" shrilled Laurel excitedly, whipping out the dress from her purse in just seconds, making me groan dreadfully.
"Oh c'mon, Lilly! It's not so bad getting dressy once in a while!" assured Kayla, as I reluctantly shucked my shirt. She and Laurel whistled and I raised a questionable eyebrow.
"Nice choice in lingerie, Lilly Hazel," growled Laurel teasingly.
"Oh shut up," I sneered.
"Still, whoever picks you up tonight will get a great view of those," teased Kayla. I hadn't had a boyfriend due to my lack of interest in guys in real life, as in any guy who wasn't 6'5'', blond with long hair, muscled, spearing 300 plus pound guys every single week to make a living, oh, and whose name was not Adam "Edge" Copeland.
"Do you guys seriously think I'm some hooker or something?" I snapped, "Just hand me the damn dress, Laurel."
