cathy, Esha Napoleon, jadeMK11, AmarettoLove and takers dark lover : Thank you! Shyann: Yeah, he really does. Clearly things haven't really changed. There's only so many times you can put the wool over your own eyes. SlytherinQueen020: Yeah they have, though there are times where it's worth repeating. Ilse'sPurpleSummer: It's interesting, I can guarantee you that. We've got enough combustible elements to blow the roof off this place. RRatedauthor: Yeah that's probably a smart idea. Anything involving the Lawsons can get kind of hairy, even if they don't mean them to. EternalxInsanity: Nope it wasn't actually. He don't meet her until this chapter.
…
"You're joking, right?" Mark followed his masked younger brother's eyes and tried not to laugh at what exactly they were fixed on.
Two seventeen-year-old, pint-sized bleached-blondes wearing busty shimmering silver tops and black leather skirts with cowboy hats (made of the same material as their sad excuses for 'shirts') were enthusiastically engaging in conversation with their admirers composed of the WWF locker room. It was the early evening of March 28th, 1999; Wrestlemania 15 was a few short hours away and after a month or so of hype, one half of the sexy Canadian jailbait duo was making her WWF debut at this very event.
Beyond the height difference it was near impossible to tell the twins apart. The taller twin had the tinier (4'10) sister's hand clasped in hers as she excitedly networked herself with everyone they ran into…unfortunately she was NOT the one debuting tonight. The tiny twin was nervous, reserved. Sure everyone that saw her knew she was one of those wild ones just waiting to crack, but regardless she was cute as hell.
Mark had to use everything he had in him not to laugh at the young girls made up like China dolls so they would appear to be older. He and his brother weren't exactly getting along at the moment, though he had no real way of knowing that. Since his debut only a year and a half ago and reuniting with his brother after a twenty-year separation due to a fire that took their parents, Kane had not spoken a word. He was a silent monster who wore a mask 24/7, and his eyes were fixed on the little one. Mark scowled and shook his head in firm disapproval of who he knew was a rising pop star 'expanding her boundaries' by joining to WWF. The tiny prosti-tot had no real care for WWF or wrestling.
"Go to Los Angeles…" he tried to make eye contact with his taken younger brother, "you'll find six-hundred others who possess that exact physical description, Little Brother. They're all the same."
Kane made no move to respond. Mark really couldn't tell which life-size Barbie his younger brother had tunneled his vision towards, so using a gloved finger he traced the line from Kane's eyes to the shorter twin. His jaw almost dropped in disbelief.
"Baby Brother, are you trying to tell me you've got your sights set on THAT one?" he pointed to the small one, and Kane nodded in his trance-like state.
Instead of pounding his little brother's mask in and further deforming his hideous, scarred face that not even HE had seen, Mark opted to make a joke out of it to further see his sibling embarrass himself.
"Why don't you go on and say hello, then?"
Finally breaking his gaze, Kane's mismatched eyes glared at his older brother. He was insulted that Mark was even taking time out of his day to come and speak to him. The pair had such a heated rivalry, Kane knew whenever his brother wanted to speak with him it was never good. More footsteps were heard behind them, Kane prayed it wasn't who he thought it was…unfortunately he stood corrected. His estranged father, Paul Bearer, was NOT aligned with his own son, but with his half-brother. Seemingly whispering to Paul as to what his brother was infatuated with, Mark kept his stone expression as Paul shook his head and placed both hands on his wide hips. Kane's face was then grabbed and dragged all the way down to Paul's eye-level. His father's eyes conveyed nothing but pure disgust.
"And just what are YOU looking at?" he knew damn well where Kane's eyes were. He was purely antagonizing. To play Devil's advocate Kane dragged his eyes back towards the blonde twins, zoning on the meeker one. Bearer did not release his son's face, the older brother did feel some slight guilt for getting his sibling in trouble, but felt it was necessary. "THAT? THAT tramp? Are you MAD?"
Yes actually, technically Kane was insane.
"She's seventeen, Little Brother! She's too young for you, you're almost thirty-two years old…" he shook his head irritably and ran a hand over his face, "There isn't anything special to her anyway; she don't even wrestle. I'm gonna go see what the hype behind the blonde, large-breasted twins is…"
Scared out of his mind, Kane shook his head and lunged to grab his older brother's arm.
"There is NOTHING worth observing" Bearer spat in Kane's face, "The low-life, mainstream Barbies have not one redeeming quality." Kane tuned it out and shook his head. "NO? You don't even know their NAMES what do you mean 'no'?"
Kane watched in dismay as Mark approached the twins slowly.
"Ladies…" he greeted them both flatly. Immediately the sweet-mannered twins turned in unison and smiled brightly.
"Hi!" they chirped in high teenage voices.
"I'm Trish"
"And I'm Miranda!"
They sounded like a cheerleading squad. Mark was literally seconds from losing his lunch. Trish's eyes were a deep caramel while Miranda's were baby blue. He stared at Miranda for a long moment, studying her. They were beautiful, the twins, yet so was every other woman the company employed. Something about Miranda had Kane's eye, and he didn't understand what it was. She may have been a ditz, but Miranda knew he was staring at her and was highly uncomfortable. Trish held Miranda's hand tighter in hers and they both looked up at the seven-footer fearfully. The blue-eyed twin held out her hand.
"And you are…?" the tinier one asked in a child-like tone. He shook her hand firmly.
"Mark."
The twins nodded with a smile.
"Mark…" Miranda curled her lips, nodding with that same annoying smile, "it's a pleasure to meet you."
Trish sensed some sort of spark between the two (Mark was extremely good-looking) and interjected.
"In FACT, my Meemy's client, Big Bossman happens to have a hell in a cell match with you tonight!"
Mark nodded; his eyes straight on Miranda.
"Is that so?"
The twins nodded. Miranda was now leering at Mark hoping he wasn't noticing.
"Well" Miranda clapped her tiny hands together gently and was obviously masking anxiety. Mark had been around women like her for years, he knew the tell-tale signs of female attraction. "I'm only with Bossman TONIGHT as a trial…my REAL dude is this dude named 'Triple H' but I ummm…." She mulled for something else to say, "I don't…start…with him…until tomorrow night" she finally concluded. He nodded along with her flirtatiously, she was adorable.
"Really now?" he asked while hiding a smirk, and she nodded. "So, you wrestle at all?"
She laughed and shook her head rapidly, immediately waving him off.
"Oh, GOD no!" she giggled and stroked her bleached-blonde hair nervously; "I'd be awful!"
Trish smirked and hooked arms with Miranda, "Me and Meemy just manage" she grinned. Feeling a slight tingle in the pit of his stomach that he knew he shouldn't, he figured it was time to leave the fresh meat alone before he landed himself in prison.
"Well," he was even being polite with them, "it was nice meeting you two after the onslaught of locker-room talk I've been forced to listen to."
The sisters giggled coquettishly. He locked eyes with Miranda, the both of them staring each other down until their pupils dilated.
"I'll be seeing you around" he told Miranda only.
Her smile turned into something sensual as she nodded nervously, watching him move away to return to the duo he had abandoned. The twins watched as he almost seemed to conference with Bearer. Trish wrinkled her nose and started to drag her sister away.
"I don't know about YOU, but…" she started, her sister already getting the picture and nodding.
"He has pretty eyes"
"Oh PLEASE" Trish rolled her eyes and gave her sister a light shove, "TELL ME you weren't just looking at his eyes…!"
"You have a boyfriend" Miranda frowned. Trish had been with her boyfriend Ron (who was the same age as them) for three years now.
"I'm not sayin' for ME" Trish shrugged and hip-checked her lightly, "I think he liked YOU, Meemsy."
Miranda nodded as they headed off towards their private dressing room. On their way out the door, Trish caught the masked man watching as they walked out holding hands.
"Ew" Trish scrunched her nose, making her sister cross.
"What?" Trish leaned close to her and dropped her voice dramatically.
"This really big, creepy guy is staring at us…"
"Really?" Miranda's voice got just as low.
"Let's uhhh…" Trish mashed her teeth and jerked her head towards their locker room, "make like a banana…" Her twin nodded and they scurried off.
Bossman ended up losing his match and not only that; he became lynched at the top of the cell. The entire match Miranda was taunted by Paul Bearer at ringside and eventually after the outcome The Brood (Edge, Christian, and Gangrel convinced they were Undertaker's legion of vampires) came down from the ceiling and scared the hell out of her as well. To add to it, Bearer popped in her face form behind and creeped her out so bad she had no choice but to climb the cell. She really wasn't supposed to, but was so terrified of the fat man and the Undertaker in the cage she felt trapped. To ease things for her Gangrel quickly dropped to his stomach and pulled her to the top (it was never in the script to kill her) so she stood smack in the center , giving the trio a more interactive chance to scare the shit out of her. They lifted her in the air (with no intentions of dropping the kid) and tried to rip their way into the cell, Undertaker looking up in shock.
"YEEEEEES! YEEEEESS!" Bearer screamed as the cage was raised off the ground and Miranda yelped, teetering on the edge about forty feet raised into the air and fell straight off, scaring the hell out of twenty thousand people in the arena and millions watching at home.
From inside the cell there was no way the Undertaker could exit and catch her in time. Paul certainly wasn't making a move and the commentators were screaming. Out of literally NOWHERE came a flash of red and black from the crowd and caught her, falling over from impact and nearly breaking his tailbone on the railing from stumbling into it.
'Holy Shit!' chanted all over the arena as Miranda took one glance at her savior and passed out. Medics rushed to ringside as the show stopped for a good 20 minutes.
…
"MEEM are you INSANE?" grabbing Miranda's face after she was released from the hospital with minor traumas Trish shrieked, "You coulda been KILLED, Meemy! Are you NUTS?"
Nervously Miranda stroked her lengthy blonde hair and shook her head, "I-I thought they would drop me"
"Oh MEEM!" Trish lamented, "It was a SHOW! It was PLANNED! You were NEVER supposed to climb up there you know how STUPID you made us look? Do you have ANY idea what people are saying about you?"
Miranda's large blue eyes dropped and she shook her head.
"No…of course you don't" Trish shook her head and groaned, "We get recognized for TWO SECONDS because YOU hadda fall off a god damn building"
"CAGE"
"What?" shaking her head as they exited the revolving doors to go home Trish frowned.
"I fell from a CAGE, Trisha Anne."
"Well whoop-dee-do, Meem!" shaking her head Trish pulled her under an arm and groaned, "Seriously, what am I gonna do with you?"
…
Miranda sat in the makeup chair patiently as the artist yammered about god knew what while painting her face on. Miranda's fake-baked skin had to be made up for about an hour before every appearance. As America's Sweetheart it was becoming her job to look the way they wanted her to. For a year now she had been rising on the American pop charts with her pop/rock band Stratusfear and she was trying to use WWF to give more exposure to her stage name, Mindy Stratus. It wasn't given to her by Vince McMahon, no, but her record label Jive. They were the masters behind her entire persona and they were steering this teen sensation.
Originally a chubby, brunette, pale, sickly, and unattractive girl showed up at their door and they turned her into a blonde bombshell. Her chest had DD cup silicone implants and her hair was bleached. Her nose had been redone, lips plumped, and chin chiseled. She was the seventeen-year-old Barbie everyone wanted to be even though she only stood at four-foot-ten.
She went on Late Night with David Letterman to discuss what happened to her earlier that day and needless to say she was still a bit spooked, but all the world was speaking of the near-fall the popstar had prior.
Smiling sweetly she addressed questions that were presented according to the script. Her label always gave her a script at interviews because Miranda spoke very poor English. Her education level only went up to sophomore year of high school, she was Canadian, and spoke Polish and Greek much clearer than her English.
Ratings were up though, and all her bosses were happy. Vince McMahon never had such a buzz over an event at Wrestlemania, therefore this new acquired instrument would be made the covergirl for the company. Every poster, billboard, program, advertisement, commercial, product…everything would have her face on it. Mindy Stratus was something he didn't think would take off the way she did but he was pleasantly proven wrong. She would officially be the Undertaker AND Kane's valet.
…
"Mindy! Mindy!" backstage at the next RAW people followed Miranda around like lost puppies and the teenage girl was just relishing the attention. She smiled, flirted, pretended to be much more affected by the fall than she really was all while trying to kind of ignore Kane, who was fairly creeping her out.
"You ready for later, little lady?" that gruff voice behind her made Miranda turn to see Mark in Undertaker gear waiting in the doorway of her private dressing room. Popping an oreo in her mouth the sexy blonde nodded and grinned at him.
"Yes I am, Mr. Mark, sir" she poked her tongue between her perfect teeth, "No cells this time to fall off?"
"No" he chuckled, "no cells for you to fall off, sweetheart."
The way he was eyeballing her made her smirk and she stepped forwards when someone else loitering in the hallway smoking a cigarette caught her eye. Long, lean, and absolutely gorgeous the brunette with longish straight hair and sun-tanned skin paced about. He was so tall she had to step back to look at him, but in jeans and a long-sleeved dark gray shirt she wanted to just eat him alive. His nose had this perfect straight slope and his lips carried a pout she could kiss all day…she had never been kissed before. In fact she never even had a date before she was only seventeen and severely mentally ill.
"Yo Lawson!" Mark called from Miranda's room and the Lawson man looked his way, hazel eyes snaring Miranda's attention and their eyes did meet for a fleeting moment before his attention focused in on Mark. "What did I tell you about smoking in the arena?"
"Oh get your panties out of a twist, Marky" he waved him off and shook his head, "Vinnie Mac can suck me if he has a problem."
She giggled. He heard the giggling. He looked her way.
"What?" snorting the Lawson man asked Miranda, and immediately she shook her head nervously and backed a step. She was undressing him with her eyes though. Those big blue viper eyes.