Disclaimer: No I don't have a last name McMahon. Although a boy I know does…maybe I can marry him and be free to command this people?…
Summary: Shannon Moore catches up with a slightly drunken and depressed Matt Hardy.
"Did you ever know that you're a jack…ass…"
Shannon frowned, looking around from the semi-singer semi-speaker. He toweled off, adjusting the strap of his bag as he walked.
"You're nothing like I would like to be…"
Shannon shook his head, wondering who this guy could be. It was fairly obvious whoever it was was singing to themselves, as he couldn't hear any other voices, and he hadn't heard the thunk of a body hitting the floor like anyone else in the WWE would have done to the singer.
The young former 3 Count member stepped around a pile of boxes, met with a view of someone sitting back towards him.
"Uh, hi?"
The man turned his head slightly, dark black curls cascading down his back, but remained silent. "What's the matter?" he tried.
Sigh. "Nothing fixable. Go back to the hotel with Shane, Shannon."
That voice was so incredibly familiar…"Matt?" he asked incredulously.
A snort. "Hi. Now go."
Shannon crossed his arms. "No."
"Shan, I just want to wallow in my own misery for a while, alright?"
"Why are you miserable?"
"How's your brother doing, Shan?"
Shannon scratched his head. "I don't have a brother."
"Exactly. How's your number one contendership going?"
"I don't have a number one contendership."
Matt snorted again. "Exactly."
Shannon considered the man in front of him. _God, if I happen to die in the next two minutes, please add it onto my list of good deeds._ He walked up and sat next to Matt, ignoring the slight clenching of Matt's jaw.
"Piss off, Shannon."
Shannon studied his hands for a moment. Matt had always been intense, always been serious, always been…as Jeff put it once, in search of perfection. But then…
"Why did you do it?" he asked softly.
"Do what?" Matt questioned.
"Don't be an idiot. You know what I mean."
Matt smiled lazily. "Yeah, I do."
"So why?"
Matt lost his smile, lifting up a bottle in his hand that Shannon hadn't noticed before. It was a weird experience…Matt had always been Shane's friend, always just been Jeff's older brother, had even been his boss at one time…but he had never seen him like this. "Have you ever planted two things at one time, right next to each other, and they both grow at the same speed? Then one kinda shrivels up, fading into the other one, and the other keeps getting bigger and bigger, and then you just think what must be happening underground? I mean, the smaller one must be giving up something down there to keep the big one healthy, but then at some point you realize the small one either has to stop sacrificing…or it'll die."
Shannon scratched his head a little. "I guess," he replied, thinking inwardly _Never get Matt drunk. He's worse than Raven._
"That's kinda me an' Jeff's careers. He wanted to go on his own, I let him go without complaint. He realized he couldn't keep going in the big bad world, so he comes back, still trying to stay over me. Then he lets go again, comes back again…I snapped."
Matt stopped for a gulp of the drink in his hand. "I'm nobody's toy."
Shannon sat back. In his own freaky way Matt had pointed out the exact reasons behind almost every dissolved tag-team in the world.
Matt smiled, then lost it just as fast. "People only saw Jeff. I'm not Jeff. He's playing a game. I'm playing my life."
With that he got up, and weaving slightly, disappeared out of sight.
Shannon was left to stare and think.
