Published July 2011; This is Chapter 2 of a current, incomplete thread from our Writing/Roleplaying Forum. Its title on the board is "National Self Storage- The Disappearance of Jenna Jane Sheridan." Some minor backstory has been added to this thread that does not appear in our forum, simply for ease of reading as a stand-alone story with appropriate tie-ins to the WWE. You will meet more OCs than Superstars in this story, but you will also witness how they blend. Anyone can throw a roomful of Superstars together and call it a story, but this has been crafted to show how the outsiders and insiders intertwine.

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At the bottom of this chapter, the OC(s) in question of the chapter's biography/biographies is/are listed. If you wish to know her backstory, it is available there; otherwise, feel free to skip down to the bottom and click to continue reading another chapter. We will continue this in each chapter to introduce the characters.

Lizzie Rose rinsed her mouth 3 times. He came in her mouth after she told him not to. He tasted like sweat and funk and she didn't have any toothpaste in her purse, so had to make do with plain water from the fountain, water she spat back in.

Rusty was an asshole. Sure, they got dinner and ticket upgrades from him, but the blow job she'd given him was worth a lot more. Turned out he was only a local WWE hire. Not really with the company, just a one-night local hire. Asshole. She hated him. She would've been better off fucking the arena janitor that she saw watching her and Jenna Jane. At least they would've had a new friend at the arena.

She walked across the parking lot, got the car and drove to pick up Jenna Jane, and was pissed to see that she wasn't at the exit. The traffic had lessened, and there was no sign of her. "Little bitch hooked up with somebody after all!" Lizzie Rose yelled, punching the steering wheel. "BITCH!"

She wasn't even bothering trying Jenna Jane's cellphone. She went straight back to the motel cursing the little girl's name. "I had to do all the fuckin' work and this is what I get in return?" she yelled, still going off on a tangent with no audience.

"No, no, sir. I'm sure it's that one. She texted me from the inside, and is just waiting, dark doesn't bother her. No, really!"

Cassandra Tate went out on a limb for this girl, and she didn't even know her? Why, because she had a damn heart. Unlock the others who saw her get in and just sit there and say nothing, she was right behind the van Jenna Jane got into. Her rental had tinted everything, and she wasn't seen, but sometimes its better that was as you can see. She sat on the side of the road with her lights off, and watch the van travel to the storage. Completely heartless. Cruel. Wrong. Illegal. She could go on with these words all night, she was that just of a person.

Now, she wasn't one to just go off and mentally rant, because very little bothered her. Of that very little, the majority of it belonged to her. As in, insulting her, rumors about her, things of that nature. But abuse of people and animals were completely wrong in her mind. Not that she had ever been a victim, but the abuser, but that's another story for another time.

A mixture of self-image issues, and the confidence she had in her aim with her taser had her to follow. She was more than pissed, and the local authorities had been contacted and given the license plate number, and a physical description of the man had been given. Now, rescuing her was something more daring. Most people wouldn't fall for any old story, and her own skills with picking locks and puzzles of this nature were completely at their limit already.

She called Deno, ugh, Aiden for a moment. Then, quickly hung up. She narrowed her eyes at the mental picture of him in her head. It was so easy to judge people, without knowing their life story, or about them as a person in general, but he had did just that. After all the talking he had done though, he had become one to ignore majority of the time. He lacked in the maturity department, and it showed tonight, with his own custom mix of assholery.

He just...spoke too soon. He'd have to learn. And yes, she was making an excuse for him, but that was because she wasn't like too many others. While they were not close anymore, nor would they probably ever date again, she still valued him as a person she knew, due to a very, very long history that she hadn't shared with anyone. And trust me, it was a lot to say about those two. In a way, they owed each other their lives, saved each other, but this wasn't the place for that.

She snapped out of her own thoughts, and cleared her throat. Sniffled a little at her own memories.

"Umm...If you're there, hold on. I'll get you out in a moment."

Now, her heels were high as well, by no means five inches. She'd be damned if she was caught dead in five inches, so couldn't run. Had to scoot her way along to the front, and direct the owner with the keys to get the door.

She explained on the way how her family was moving from Brooklyn, and her friend who was along for the ride got caught in the little storage place...uhh...Yo. It worked, and she sighed at the very thought of being in Brooklyn. She was Manhattan. Brooklyn. Hmph. Anyway.

She dusted her clothes some, and continued to talk. The manager only seemed to nod, and not care too much, but she yapped on anyway, because the more she did, the less he would want to hear, and the faster he would want to run away.

The lock was unlocked, the latch was unhooked, and the door shot up. "Oh, thank you so much mister! I promise I can get her out of here. Swear. It'll never happen again, we were just moving to fast, and me just being a blonde forgot she was here, and she was talking to her boyfriend and didn't notice, and then I wanted McDonald's and I just had to go change clothes for a little par-...Well thanks anyway!"

She had verbally chased that man off with words. Amazing, she was.

She turned on her heels, and her face matched nothing of what it did seven seconds ago. Her face was back to its stone, emotionless expression it usually had, and she shed the goofy demeanor all too quickly for just about anyone's liking.

"Look, I don't know you, and you don't know me. Whatever. The least I can do is give you a ride." She said, a little stern, but again, it would be something the people around her were used to.

Name: Lizzie Rose Marshall

Bio: Lizzie Rose is 21, and a dyed in the wool ring rat. Her best friend, Brandy Lynn SHeridan and she started chasing wrestlers when they were 14 years old, scoring their first fuck after an indy fundraiser that had taken place in a church basement. They'd lied and told the 2 wrestlers, 1 who was an up and comer, and the other who should've quit wrestling 10 years sooner after he was out of his prime, that they were 18. But it wouldn't really have mattered if they were underage or not.

Brandy Lynn was killed by a drunk driver 6 months ago. That might sound tragic until the rest of the story's told..the drunk driver was Brandy Lynn herself. Lizzie Rose has taken Brandy Lynn's little sister, Jenna Jane, under her wing, and brings her out to chase the wrestlers these days. Depending on how much money's available, they'll follow the WWE as far as they can on the road, and depending on what sort of work is available, they'll wait tables or, in Lizzie Rose's case, turn the occasional trick to get the cash to wake up the next day and do it all over again. It's a twisted version of "Someday, my prince will come." The reality is more like "Someday, a pro wrestler will come..in my mouth.." and the fairytale ending being, "..then fall in love with me and I'll get my happily-ever-after."

Well, it's that way more for Lizzie Rose than Jenna Jane. Lizzie Rose is being more realistic that there's got to be a source of income coming in, and Jenna Jane believes more in romance. Jenna Jane hasn't been passed around like Lizzie Rose yet. Yet.

It's a kick for Lizzie Rose to hear when some of the guys try to pick them up, "You two look like a young version of LayCool!" It's not true, but flattery (and free booze, shared drugs and hot sex with hot guys) gets you everywhere. ESPECIALLY if you're a midcarder or better.

It's not like Lizzie Rose has set out to have a deathwish, but she wakes up many mornings wondering if this sunrise will be the last she sees. Her parents, not exactly classy people, have even disowned her. Lizzie Rose has the notoriety of being the girl in the trailer park that other mothers warn their daughters about. Her mother's heart condition can't take much more of Lizzie Rose's antics. Birthday money last year went toward the sliding scale health clinic's treatment of a nasty case of genital warts Lizzie Rose had picked up on the circult.

"You're going to end up dead!" her mother had cried, trying to talk sense, and Lizzie Rose's offhanded answer of "Aren't we all?" was met with a backhand by her father, throwing her out of the trailer after a final parental beating thrown in for good measure. They'd raised her the best they could and were now washing their hands of her. Lizzie Rose was a standard wild child. All grown up at 21, looking 25..but she's got Jenna Jane as her little sidekick, her protege, and there won't be time for boredom if Lizzie Rose plays her cards right.

Name: Cassandra Lynn Tate

Bio: Cassandra has a look, voice and mind, all of which she's worked extremely hard for. It was hard getting to the top, and even harder staying up there. Right now, she found a happy medium, to keep herself afloat and be able to manage a successful life and a kid. That's right, kid. At the young age of 16, carrying herself as if she were 30, you'd think she was her mom's friend instead of her 'BFF' should you see them walking together. Well, she'd take the compliment on her maturity in her head while glaring at you physically, and walking away. Like these wrestlers, it was her signature move.

Aiming to be an entertainer was difficult, even for those who had what it took. You had to know people, you had to have the correct agents, the right money, the right everything. Perfect. No matter how much she gave herself off that way, she hadn't had the luck to succeed on her own. As much as she hated to take help, generally being a one-woman show, she did take the advice of doing things locally, and simply getting her face out there. No matter how many good demos and singles she recorded, she wouldn't be able to stay at a label for long.

You could say luck was on her side when she finally caught the eye of Jim Johnston, the head of WWE's music and most of its production, on accident, when she was performing in a bar in her hometown of Manhattan that she was far too young to be in. After that, he offered a small paying internship with WWE. Who was Cassandra to turn down any sort of deal of that caliber? That was a major company, and she would be able to travel, get out of her little normal life she'd gladly trade away to get her dream.

And, well, her dream made her..cold. Heartless. Starting over was hard, obviously. Focusing on school, and music was her thing. Until she met one Aiden Quinn. Opened up some to him, and they exchanged some pretty deep thoughts. With his guitar playing and her singing, they'd become something of the typical "it" teen couple.

...until she learned of his..background. The rich lifestyle, the "having it all and throwing it away" mindset he didn't know he was living in. Joe, his brother who'd gone to college, made something of himself. Okay. That's fine. But Aiden was a lost puppy, following his older brother because it looked like the cool thing to do. If Joe Quinn would've stayed in Canada, he'd be a completely different person, and not this recluse turned rebellious, obnoxious jackass we know and are stuck with today.

Something in her head keeps her gravitated toward him, but for the most part, he knows how she ticks, and what bothers her, so she often regrets bothering and storms away, making her wonder why she bothers to begin with. Other than that, if you can get past her seriousness and maturity, she's not a bad person at all to be around and is protective and loyal to those she cares for. A positive idea: Don't cross her, because she has no problem being a complete and utter bitch.

"I can be a bitch. It's not a very pretty sight." -Cassandra