Christian x Elle: What Mgatters The Most
Author's Note
I disclaim owning everything, except Elliah Eisenghard. If you want to read, I don't mind. If you don't, I don't mind either. Simple as that. This goes on by series, and it might take a long time but I can update this series. So, yeah.
Chapter I: His Chance, Her Faith
"And once again, the winner, and STILL the World Heavyweight Champion, RANDY ORTON!" Everyone cheered as Randy smirked, taking the Championship belt off the referee's hands. He stood at the tightropes, holding his belt like a trophy while ever yone screamed. Christian watched him as he did it three more times at each corner.
God, it's making him sick.
"Hey, Randy!" He screamed. Randy glared at him as he stood up and charged at him, executing a Spear. The champion smirked though, as if he had expected this. He then raised his belt, and in one swift movement,
He knocked Christian down with it.
The crowd cheered louder as Christian fell to the ground. God. Of course they love it. They love Randy so much that they should probably be more than willing to kiss this guy's fucking ass, he thought. Randy looked at him, smirking before he left the ring. Christian tried to stand too, depressed as ever as he left at the other side of the ring. People started to boo him as he limped, their words raining on him as if it were steel chairs being thrown at him. He used to think it didn't matter. He used to think it was cool, Because he'd strip off Randy's freaking waist. But he was wrong.
He went against the wrong person—Which was so unfair because that person went and stole that Championship off his, and he only had it for a week.
-x-
Bangs were heard in Christian's room. Those who passed it tried to ignore it, aware of the events that happened in that ring that caused Christian to act that way. Lockers crashed, floors stomped and walls echoed throughout as Christian eagerly punched and kicked everything and everywhere. That was it. He had enough. Christian, the man who desperately tried to get the Championship belt his bestfriend left him with. It was so unfair. So goddamn unfair. He deserved that championship, he worked hard for that fucking championship. But here he is, starting to climb from the very beginning, trying to take that Championship back from the Viper.
Sick.
Goddamn Alberto Del Rio. If only he didn't break his pectoral muscles he should've been able to defeat Randy with his Kill Switch. If only Randy wasn't in the same leauge as his, then he would probably still have the Championship. If only Teddy Long wasn't such a bastard to put up another match for the title. God, he only got it for a week.
If only, If only, If only. Christian's head drilled past as a tear fell from his eyes. Oh God, he thought. He tried to wipe it away. The tears, the feelings, everything. The tears went away easy. But the feelings didn't. Shaking his head, Christian gave a last punch at his locker and turned around, only to come face-to-face with a familiar face.
"Hey." Edge smiled. Christian stood, wide-eyed and stunned upon seeing his bestfriend. "Edge! Hey!" He screamed happily, giving him a manl y hug. "How're ya doing, man? I really missed ya!" "Well, better, I guess." Edge smirked. "The neck problem is getting better, and the replays of John Cena and me waving goodbye is still replaying on my home, on the DVD. Yep, those were the days." He smiled nostalgically. Christian laughed at this. "You just like Cena. Don't you, Edge?" He teased. Edge then playfully punched him in the arm. "Bastard. You're just jealous of him, Aren't ya?" They stared at each other, closing in as if they were a few seconds away from punching each other. Seconds later though, Edge gave in and both of them laughed. "So, you going home?" Edge asked after the laughter died down, noticing the bag Christian was holding. "Yeah, man. SmackDown just ended." He answered. "Really? What happened?" Edge asked.
Silence.
Christian licked his lips and played with his fingers, as if he'd gave any answer to what he was asking. The man himself raised an eyebrow, suspicious of what happened. "I—tried to get the Championship." Christian finally answered.
"And?" Edge asked again.
Another silence.
"Randy won—didn't he?" Edge asked, turning away. "But, I'll get it back! I promise—" "You've been trying that for seventeen fucking years now, What do you think will make me believe you, huh?" Edge had cut him off. Christian then stared at him wide-eyed, shock clearly imprinted on his face. Edge quickly tried to regain his composure and smiled. "You free? I was thinking of walking you home, man. You know? Like the old times." He offered. "Oh, no. I was uhm—going to run on an errand so, you better go ahead. It's going to take a while." Christian quickly took his bag and smiled. "I'll see you soon, then, Edge?" "Oh, yeah." Edge agreed. "I'll see you soon."
-x-
He then walked slowly on the road, eyes trying to focus but with much more difficulty. He knew it. He knew his time was up—He has to win that. Not only for him but also for Edge. Goddamn it, Edge helped him to win that shitty Championship belt despite of his Neuropraxia. He has to win. He has to fucking—
"OW!"
Christian blinked dumbfoundedly as he felt someone collided with him. It didn't really hurt for him, but the person seems to receive the impact more. He looked down and saw a young girl, probably 5 years younger than him, with long, silky hair and a pale complexion. "Oh, Hey. I'm sorry." He apologized, extending his arms out to her. The girl then looked up and stared, her mouth gaped open.
"You're…." she stammered.
"Christian, yes." He smiled, quite surprised.
The girl was silent, as she took his arm and stood up. Christian gave a weak smile and turned around to leave. A loud cry erupted from his back that made him look back. The girl was loudly sobbing her eyes out. "Hey?" Christian approached her, quite concerned. "What's wrong?" "You're here!" she sobbed.
Silence.
Oh. Christian thought bitterly. Another hater. That's just… just fantastic. He cleared his throat and tried to smile. "If you're looking for Randy, he's probably still inside." He said. "That's not it!" she wailed. Christian stared at her, surprised. "Then what?" He asked, a bit irritated. "It means I missed Friday Night Smackdown! I traveled all the way from the Philippines to watch it, and now I missed it!" she cried. Christian stared. "Hey, that's alright. There's still next week. Plus, the SummerSlam , too." He patted her on the back. "But I never miss them! God, I'm so sorry. I was looking forward to Randy's and yours' match!" She tried to explain.
God. Not that name again.
"You're a fan of Randy?" He asked. The girl nodded. "So you must really think I'm a jerk, huh? You're one of my haters?" Christian smirked bitterly.
She shook her head.
Christian stared at her once more as she wiped her tears. "I don't actually get why people hate you. I'm sorry. I'm a big fan of Randy but on this one, I was actually going to root for you." She explained. Words died out of Christian's throat as the girl looked up to her with eyes of pure innocence. He tried to find the words, but all he managed to stutter was, "Why?" "Because that's your dream, right? The World Heavyweight Championship. I think it's unfair that you only had it for a week. They should give you a chance."
Silence.
"Christian….?" She stammered nervously, looking at the blonde wrestler before him. What she saw next surprised her the most.
Christian was crying.
Chapter End
