POV #1


I am not the lead singer of the band called Fozzy. I am simply the man married to Fozzy's vocalist, Chris Jericho. If that brings on the onslaught of any disappoint, then please don't continue on.

Now while I am not the typical run-of-the-mill fanatic, it would take a person solely composed of obliviousness to not be able to associate Chris Jericho with the popular five man group. His face was slapped onto every magazine cover, every featured show, every piece of propaganda imaginable the moment the word Fozzy was ushered. Fozzy is Chris Jericho. It is a fact that made him hard to miss. And hard to dislike.

Quite frankly, I fell in love with the man on Fozzy's poster during the band's second year of fame. I was about fifteen when I first heard of the band. One song and I was hooked. And then came the crush on the lead singer. At first – like everyone else - I thought their bassist Randy Orton was quite the charmer. However, after a while his golden glow dissipated as his arrogance became unbearable. That's when Chris Jericho moved in. I remember the first time I watched him speak on TV. He was being interviewed about the success of some world tour, and he spoke so eloquently that I thought it would be nice to hear that voice every day.

For three years I followed the band with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. I bought all the tickets needed to see their local shows. I bought most of the stuff they sold. And then I got the chance to move to the city that the band resided in. New York. After passing with full scholarships, my best friend and I packed up and never looked back. Being a savvy person, Jack was able to get a hold of a job that suited us both.

Working at a flower gift shop.

While most people would frown on that, I love making flower arrangements and Jack's in love with the cash register. So it fit like a glove for both of us. The Fozzy fever soon died somewhat – or merely simmered to a low flame – as the year went by and soon I became completely engrossed in the love of putting flowers together to make heart-warming bouquets. Then the year hit its sixth month. And Chris Jericho walked into the store.

"Hi there." He spoke just like he would on TV. But he was talking to Jack, while I stood in the back area trying to overcome the shock. Fozzy's vocalist was at our store. "I'm here to pick up a bouquet of lilies."

Jack looked over to me and I stared back at him. It took me a while to realize that I had been standing there holding Chris Jericho's bouquet of flowers in a bridal fashion. I stuttered on something and then sort of forced the lilies onto Jericho. I remember him tossing me a smile and a low scoff. And I clearly remember the feel of my face turning beet red.

He took a while to scan the arrangement, and after picking at it childishly, he handed it back to me with that gorgeous smile planted firmly on his face. Those lose-yourself-in-me blue eyes were peering right at me and for the love of all things decent I couldn't bring myself to just look away.

"Y-You don't like it?" To this day that will the dumbest thing that I have ever said. An idol comes into my store and the only thing I could say was 'you don't like it'.

"It's not for me." He replied much like he would on TV. But the smile was different. "It's for you." I hadn't noticed, but the bouquet was back in my hands. "Would you like me to take you to dinner tonight?" He slightly tilted his head. "Say around seven?"

That happened one year ago. Now I'm living with Chris Jericho. And yes, I'm legally married to him. I never thought for one second that there was anything strange, or wrong about meeting someone, dating them for a about twelve days, moving in with them right after and then getting married in the course of eight weeks. The idea that Chris and I being together was something short of pure fate had never once settled anywhere near my mind.

But then our anniversary came. And Chris never showed.

When I entered this relationship, I knew it wasn't going to be all peaches and creams. Fozzy was not successful because they sold music. They were successful because the group put time and effort into it. And being the face and name of the group, Chris had to be there more than anyone else. I understood that perfectly. With that in mind, I buried myself in the school work that never seemed to let up. Despite being married to a multi-millionaire, I still worked at the gift shop as the resident flower arranger. Putting the delicate blossoms together relived any and all stress my life slapped me with. But it wasn't the anniversary that knocked me down. It was the layman's reply of "Don't let it bother you" when it did bother me. Not the anniversary. The picture.

The one he hid in his office drawer. That was what propelled me to seek out advice, and hear Jack say—

"It's his ex-wife?" He drew in a deep breath after I nodded. "Why does he still have a picture of his ex-wife?"

"He said I shouldn't let it bother me." The doubt was clearly there.

"Shouldn't let it -" He collected his thoughts, "It should bother you. You're his fucking wife!"

I drank some more of the hot chocolate that Jack had bought me. He was always good with knowing what I needed when I had lost myself.

"Does he still talk to her?"

"Yeah." I nodded again. "Randy told me that she's married to the CEO of Fozzy's label."

"Levesque?" Jack thought for a while. "Stephanie fucking McMahon is Jericho's ex?"

I nodded again. "Apparently they met during high school, and they carried it over to College. He proposed to her right after, but between his work with baby-sitting Fozzy and her father's disapproval of the whole thing, they just spilt and called it a day."

Jack gave me that 'hmm, very interesting' look before sighing. "I think there's still love there Evvy." Strangely, it's when he calls me by my nickname that I know he's serious. "You better watch yourself. I'm not going to say that Jericho's a bad guy, but I've been suspicious of him ever since you told me that you two eloped and got married." He leaned closer to me. "Any hint of doubt Evvy, I want you to promise me that you'll walk. Okay? If he comes home later than usual, or he doesn't answer your calls, I want to you to label that as a warning. And the next strike means he's out." He peers at me for a length of time. "Promise me you won't let yourself get hurt."

I nodded again.

Two weeks later, Chris missed our anniversary. And he didn't answer any of my calls that night.

I don't make it a habit to get nervous over little things. However, Jack's words were doing their fair share of breaking me down. A week went by and Chris didn't come home. It was expected as he was travelling with the band, but he didn't make any effort to keep in contact with me. In one year we went from calling each other every night to every other night to never. After the month's tour was over, Chris returned home. And as much as I would have loved to say that I called it a day and hung up the cape, I can't because he came home to find me there waiting. And he handed me the bouquet that I had finished making that day. He apologized soon after for not keeping in contact. Then, after sex, he apologized for missing our anniversary. But I never got a reason. Or maybe I just didn't want one. Then in just seventeen days, my fears came true. I had come home to find Stephanie McMahon in our kitchen. She was clad in nothing but a bath robe.

My bathrobe.

Jack loaned me the bed that I had originally slept on after first coming to this city. We rented an apartment together, but after I left, I gave him the money to buy another one. He said it was out of sentiment that he never took the money and left the place. It's only now – when my life's falling apart – that I truly understand that sentiment. Before Chris, but for Chris. This is the place I called home.

"Did he explain why she was there?" Jack's made dinner two nights in a row. I offered to take over tonight, but I started crying again, and we ordered Chinese.

I shook my head.

"Oh Evvy." He sounded hoarse and sad. I felt like I had let him down. Once again, he had to be picking up the pieces that I was breaking down into. "Why didn't you just leave when you felt something was wrong?"

"I wanted to." I forced back the urge to cry again. Just talking about it made me sad. "I saw the signs. He wasn't calling. He wasn't answering. He wasn't talking. I saw all those problems, but I still kept going. I kept thinking that maybe I was just being irrational. I didn't want to come off as being immature."

"Evvy, you'll be twenty in a week. You're mature enough."

"But I trusted him. I never thought he'd do something like that." I was crying again at this point. "He loved me."

"But not as much as he loved her huh." Jack always knows the right thing to say. But his timing could always use a little work.

"He wanted to say something to me but I wouldn't listen!" I felt the sting of desperation kick in. I was just making excuses at this point. "What if that was his explanation? What if he wanted to tell me what was going on right then and there but I was too stubborn and angry to -"

"Do you hear yourself?" Jack hardly got angry. Especially with me. "Chris Jericho is nothing but a lying, cheating bastard! Get that through your skull now Evvy! It'll be better for you." At this point I'm sobbing. "Trust me."

That night, Jack offered me a comforting shoulder. But I couldn't bring myself to betray Chris like that. Even if he had already done the same to me.

Sunday's are normally the slowest days at the gift shop. However, we got a large order for hypothetically a truck load of elaborate arrangements. The work saw me punching in for overtime and being the only person left in the store. It was cold outside, and I thought of calling Jack for a ride. But then I recall—

/My phone was back at the house. With Chris./

I decide to grin a bear it. Walk home once I finished this last arrangement. The door chimes open and I lit up thinking it was Jack. But it wasn't Jack. It's Chris holding a bottle of champagne. I scowl at him and turn to head back, but he stops me just by touching my arm.

"What do you want?" Was that venom running off my tongue? It tasted bitter.

"I called you for three days straight," He takes a seat on the chair that belongs to me, "only to realize that your phone was in the house all that time." He draws out a deep sigh and puts the bottle down beside my final arrangement. "So I figured that my best bet was to hold you to your work long enough for me to come and find you here."

I blink for a second and glance at the surrounding flower pieces. "You made this order?" I was truly in disbelief. I had underestimated Chris Jericho.

He nods. "Let me just clear the air here Evan." I've heard this serious tone before. It's the same one he chose to use when I found that picture. And when he told me 'don't let it bother you.' It's the tone that has no room for arguments because it's so brutally honest. "I don't love Stephanie McMahon. I love you. I'm not married to Stephanie McMahon. I'm married to you." He sat up a bit straighter. "And because I'm in love with you and because I'm married to you I've made it my sole duty to always be there for you, to always take care of you and to never, ever hurt you." He sighs again. The strong tone lowers a bit. "And I've broken that last rule. Fozzy's on the verge of becoming something bigger than everyone else. Something immortal. And because of that, I was struck with a hard choice. Either give Fozzy the push it needed and risk losing you or put it all down to be with you. I chose to risk you. And I'll admit Evan, I thought I had it won. But I was stupid." He exhales loudly while wiping his face of whatever laid on it. The back room light shows me the small stream of tears. And my guard comes crashing down. "I didn't see how much my not being there was hurting you. I didn't notice that you had started to lose faith in me. To lose trust in me. And my bringing Stephanie into the whole mix without any thought of your feelings pushed you out of my reach." He leans towards me. "And Evan, that scared me more than anything else. The realization that I might have become nothing to you terrified me to the point where I had lost my mind. But that's when it dawned on me Evan. The reason why I decided to put you first." His hands grasp mine with a gentle thumb running over the small gold band that is still wrapped around my left ring finger. "It's because I know that once I do, you'll always be here with me. Just like we promised."

The majority of what Chris said had already flown over my head because to be quite honest, and sort of cliché—

He had me at 'I love you.'