A/N: I decided to carry on with my weird experiments in different styles of writing. I think this is second person. I wrote as if I was Shawn talking to Hunter but since Hunter takes on the role of "you" I guess technically the reader is Hunter? I dunno! I'll probably never write like this again lol! I inserted song lyrics in certain parts, they come from " Over and Under" by Egypt Central, " Lover Dearest" by Marianas Trench and " Never tear us apart" by INXS. I apologise for how crappy this is now. Really random title that will probably change when I um think of something better lol!
I know you'll be there to see the tables turning
Wake up tomorrow and watch our bridges burning
I can see, I can see it in your eyes, I can feel, I can feel it in my mind.
You're the first person I see when I pull back the curtain. The look you're shooting me reminds me of all those hazy days when I wasn't quite sure who I was, when I was on the wrong path and pills were the only consistency. It's sort of a cross between rage and disappointment and it's still as cold and sobering as ever. I don't quite understand why I'm getting that look now but I could hazard a guess the fact I just announced I'd love to see Bret Hart again makes you furious.
You've been waiting for me, probably since you first heard his name fall from my mouth. Maybe from the moment they played the first beat of my music, I'm not sure. I can tell by the way you're pounding your fingers against your thigh that you've been here a while though, you're impatient when you're mad. Not like me. I'm impatient all the time.
It's why I walked away when you were taping the little troll to the skateboard. I wanted to get down to business, only you were too busy joking around. You didn't want to address wrestling, wrestling seems to have slipped your mind- you're more concerned with neon green and glow sticks.
I don't tell you this. Now isn't exactly the right time, you're far too preoccupied with shooting daggers in my direction for me to throw any of my own.
You waste no time in venting, curses are spilling from your mouth as I cringe inwardly and before I know it your fingers are digging into my arm as you pointlessly try to drag me away, pulling me into some secluded corner. I don't know why you've bothered, your voice is carrying around the backstage area anyway.
" What the hell was that?"
I wrench myself free, you should know better than to touch me by now.
"What was what?"
" All that Bret stuff" you fume bitterly.
I shrug. You didn't want to hear before, you shushed me like I wasn't worth your time so I see no reason why I should explain it to you now. I want to sit before the match, maybe call Rebecca or the kids, I don't want to get in some petty argument.
Yet I don't tell you this either. I just stay silent, knowing no answer annoys you more than any smart alec comeback ever could.
You shouldn't have grabbed me.
" What did I tell you?"
I blink at your tone, the way you're speaking as if I've disobeyed some direct order maddens me.
" Tell me when?" I play ignorant.
" Before you went crusading for the return of Hart" you almost growl, infuriated with the fact that I'm being so childish. You always could see through my games.
" Oh. Not to do anything stupid" I offer, relenting my pettiness for a second.
" Yet as soon as my back was turned-"
" Your back was turned?" I scoff and the laughter breaks free even though I find your reply anything but funny, " You were taping a midget to a skateboard! I don't need a keeper so don't act like you were too busy to mind me."
" I told you to keep your nose out!" you snap, glossing over my own grievance.
I shrug again, I can't really defend my actions anymore than I already have in the ring. You heard every word I said, I know you did, and I don't feel like trying to explain the reasoning behind it all.
" He's not gonna be your friend"
My shrug wasn't good enough for you it seems.
" I don't want him to be"
" Yeah? Then why are you so eager to get him back?"
" Because it's been twelve years!" I cry, temper rising, I can't believe you're being so immature, " Someone has to let it go"
"I thought you already had"
" I have!"
" Then why does he have to be here?"
You're sounding more and more like a jealous child and I can't stand it.
" Ratings? Storylines?" I remind you.
You're silent now, using my own trick against me and for some reason the fact that I give it to you gets under my skin.
"What's the matter? Scared he'll cut into all the stupid Hornswoggle spots? We're supposed to building towards Wrestlemania!"
It's snide and it's mean but I don't care. I'm as much to blame as you are for the stupid skits but I don't want to admit it.
" I know you're memory's pretty shot," you say softly, " but surely it can't be that short. Don't you realise you're getting ready to welcome him back with open arms? Bret Hart? For F***s sake Shawn after everything he tried to do, to the business, to Vince, to us-"
" It was twelve-"
" It doesn't matter how long ago it was! Jesus Shawn think about it. He's gonna come back and it'll be just like it was before only Vince's gonna have to bend over backwards even more to patch things up!"
" What's wrong with patching things up?" I mumble, " Forgiving, forgetting, it'll be better for everyone"
" Have you actually sat and thought about how you're gonna look?"
I haven't done much else. I hummed and hawed for ages after Vince told me there was a chance Bret could come back. I wondered how everyone would see me, if they'd go back to hating me, if I really could prove to Bret that I've changed or if him being there would be too much like temptation to act like the horrible human being I used to be.
Perhaps not tempted but what if I'm forced? I don't want to act like the old me but what if he pushes me into a corner I can't get out of?
" Yes" I reply shortly, keeping my fears to myself.
" And you'd still love to see him one more time?" you sneer, "Knowing for a fact that once he gets a live mic in his hand he's going to tear you a new one-"
" I'll talk to him!" I shout angrily, " I'll talk to him and it'll be fine."
" You hope"
The bitter in you and the quitter in me
is the better in you and the quitter in me
The bitter in you and the quitter in me is bigger than the both of us
Sometimes I hate how close we are when it gives you the power to use my own feelings against me. It's a rotten thing to do, brutal in its harshness and I mentally kick myself for showing you how easy it was to manipulate friendship all those years ago.
"Yeah I do" I admit finally," I don't hate him"
" Any more" you add pointedly.
I don't say but you do. It'd be stupid to point out something so obvious. There's a glare in your stare that dares me to but I don't rise to the challenge for once. I look for the ground instead, avoiding your anger. I know you're mad at me for backing down, you know my principles haven't all changed. If Vince came to me tomorrow with the same situation and the same people presented back in Montreal I'd probably still pull the trigger. I'd just regret it more than I did then.
I don't think you would.
And I'm not sure why that makes me feel so uneasy. It's as if our roles have reversed. Bret hates me but I'm not really even bothered by him.
You can't stand him.
I'm worried if I act civil towards Bret I lose some credibility in your eyes. I like to pretend that I don't care what people think of me but I do.
I do.
And as much as I'd like to say that the only person I have to answer to is Jesus Christ I can't bear the thought of disappointing you.
" So you're just going to act as if 1997 never happened?"
" Of course not. I'm just not gonna let myself get sucked into all the stupid bitterness"
Not like you.
Nobody says it, yet I can tell we both think it. I can see it in your eyes, the resentment.
You're not willing to forgive, whereas I think I already have. I haven't been forgiven, not by Bret anyway, but I'm at peace.
It's different for you. You're married to Steph, you're Vince's son-in-law, you love the business and now you're office. Yet you're still one of the boys so you get to have the double edged sword of being hated by Bret for your part in 1997 and you now also get to hate him for any potential damage you think he's going to cause the business.
I wish I could tell you that everything would be ok, that I prayed and I meditated on it. That me and Rebecca we talked it through and we're sure God wouldn't have Bret come back to hurt anyone.
Even though I did all that I can't really promise you. One you don't hold the same faith as me and I know you don't put as much trust in the Lord as I do, and two there's a bible verse niggling at the back of my brain whenever I think of Bret's return.
As you sow so shall you reap.
You're resentful and far from unbiased but what if you're right?
What if the only reason Bret's coming back is to punish me for my past actions?
" So don't," You interrupt my chain of thought, " Don't get sucked in. Just don't act as if he did nothing wrong ok?"
" I won't" I tell you, " but I can't act like I did nothing wrong either"
" I'm not asking you to," you reply quietly, " Just remember there was a lot more to that rivalry then you and Montreal."
I nod, and you clap a hand on my shoulder reassuringly.
" Come on let's go get ready for the match, "
And just like that the tension's dissolved, as if me agreeing I'm not the only one to blame has redeemed me in your eyes.
I was standing, (Don't ask me) you were there
Two worlds collided (we're shining through)
and they could never tear us apart.
I smile, ignore the looks following us down the corridor, the roster intrigued and puzzled by the way our friendship works.
You lead the way into the dressing room, flop into a chair and wait for me to claim the bench opposite. I concentrate on taping my wrists, push all thoughts of Bret to the back of my mind.
Him leaving brought us together, I don't want him coming back to tear us apart.
You don't either; it's why you were so mad.
I meet your gaze, you grin and begin telling me some joke you heard from Sheamus, argument forgotten.
Good luck tearing this friendship apart Hitman.