A/N: Thank you xLifeFullOfLaughterx, 3merald princ3ss, onehundredpercent, and LoverlyBlasian for reviewing! They were all very sweet reviews, and I really appreciate all of them! Please enjoy this one. (:
Chris clenched his teeth in pain as he stood before the mirror of the newest hotel he was staying in. He gingerly snipped the stitches from his forehead and thread the string out of the wound. A little bit of blood started to seep out, and he reached for the bunch of butterfly stitches he found in his gym bag. He dabbed the bleeding area and applied the new stitches carefully. He didn't want Phil to say anything about his cut on tonight's RAW, so he took matters into his own hands to remove the stitches. Some make-up artist at the arena would make the butterflies look like they weren't even there.
He tossed the few bloody tissues into the garbage and walked out to the bed where he left his notes. An open bottle of whiskey sat on the floor, and Chris picked it up and took a long swig, hoping to relieve his seemingly never-ending hangover pains. He refocused on his sloppy notes and tried to formulate an intelligent challenge he'd use towards Phil.
Extreme Rules will be in Chicago. His family will probably be there. Vince and GM said yes to the Chicago Street Fight match. Tonight he fights Mark Henry. Eavesdropping has conveyed Phil will win and retain his belt; could have gathered this by the yes on the PPV match. I'll just play the Daddy card again, and definitely show the clip I got of him going into that pub. Accuse him of drinking.
Chris noticed that he felt no regret or remorse for having to say these things to his lover. Whereas last week he would have been crushed, this week he was filled with pure spite that he had been dumped by the love of his life. He piled his jumbled thoughts onto one paper and started getting ready for the show.
xxx
Phil arrived at the arena early, as he had an early match with Mark Henry. He grabbed his belt and wrapped it around his slender waist, feeling a nasty burp come up his throat. He definitely should have skipped the fish and chips earlier in the day.
He looked at himself in a cheap floor-length mirror and nodded once; he had all of his wrestling gear on two hours in advance. His date with Mike last night was wonderful, and ended with a passionate kiss outside of Mike's hotel room. He was really starting to like Mike, and already started to feel like himself with the younger man. His thoughts were interrupted when a knock came from his door.
"Come in," he called, trying to recollect his thoughts. John Laurinaitis walked in, holding a piece of paper folded in half in his hand. "Tonight's line-up," He said hurriedly. Phil grabbed it from his hand and started to read it over while John left.
CM Punk vs. Mark Henry
Jericho titantron speech
…
Phil widened his eyes a little. This was the first he knew of Chris giving a speech on the titantron after his success of a match with Mark. Nothing else concerning him happened after that so he threw it aside. Besides, he wanted to see Mike before the show, so he needed to leave now.
xxx
Chris smiled evilly as the titantron lit out. He had just given Phil the news of their Extreme Rules match-up, but he seemed satisfied with it, not horrified. However, he could see the hurt in his ex's eyes when he brought up his father again. He got up, shrugged off the ridiculous coat, and started walking back towards his locker room. He now loathed having the one right next to Phil's.
Mike was leaning against Phil's locker room door, waiting expectantly. Chris gave him a look before heading into his locker room. Inside was a menagerie of liquor bottles, most of them open and empty. He grabbed the nearest one to him and finished it off, and managed to polish three more off on his way to his metal bench. Having been in the hospital the previous night, he hadn't had the chance to check his texts, Twitter, or anything of the sort. There were two missed calls that he didn't care about, and quite a few new texts that, after quick observation, weren't from the person he cared about. Heavy stalking on Phil's Twitter account revealed he and Mike in a photo, shoulder-to-shoulder, with smiles on their faces. Phil captioned the photo Date night (: and added an emoticon heart at the end.
"God dammit!" Chris screamed furiously, chucking his iPhone across the room, which sent it careening towards the metal lockers. It made a loud crashing noise, and pieces of the phone bounced around a bit. He bit his lip to hold back the inevitable tears, but the only thing he ended up with was a bloody lip and tear-stained cheeks. He miserably went around the room, picking up open bottles that weren't empty.
"Is this what you want?" he bawled to the empty room. "Huh? Do you want me to drink myself to death? Because I'll do it. I'll fucking do it, Punk, and not regret a fucking thing!" He poured the drams into one big bottle, and smashed the other bottles around the room. It all made sense why Mike was standing outside Phil's door, and how Phil recovered so quickly from the break-up.
He took a huge sip of the alcohol concoction before resuming his sobbing. "What else do you need to hear, baby? Huh? I love you, okay, baby? I can't fucking live without you! I fucking need you, Phil, and I can't deal with this anymore!"
He inhaled deeply and let the remainder of the huge bottle pour down his throat. He felt so close to blacking out, but he didn't care. He cracked open a bottle of red wine – the nearest liquor to him – and downed half of it in one gulp. "I'll kill myself, Phil, if I can't have you! All of this shit was a mistake. I never should have done this to you, okay? I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry! My life is useless without you!" He swallowed the rest of the wine and chucked the bottle across the room. He brought his knees to his chest and sobbed until his chest felt like it was on fire. "Bayyy-bee," he whined, his voice hoarse. "Please forgive me." After he spoke those last words, he passed out.
xxx
"So I can't even go to a fucking pub without him up my ass about our 'feud'?" Phil spat angrily. Mike put his hands on the younger man's shoulders and tried to calm him. It seemed to work, because Phil sat down on a bench alongside Mike.
"Let's just forget about it for now, okay? I know you weren't drinking, and so do your fans." Mike soothed softly, tentatively hovering his hand above Phil's. Phil grabbed it down and interlocked it with his. He let out a breath.
SMASH!
Phil and Mike jumped out of their skin. An explosively-loud smash came from the room over, very unexpectedly. Soon after, wild screaming started up.
"…What you want? … Drink myself to death! … Not regret a thing! …"
Sobs ripped from the other side of the wall, and Phil's eyes widened in disbelief when he realized that was Chris' locker room, and Chris was having an emotional meltdown. Mike looked on worriedly, and gently placed a kiss on his Pepsi tattoo. Phil jerked off of the seat, and Mike still holding his hand, got pulled along with him to the wall. Phil slammed his ear against it, and Mike followed suit.
"What else do you need to hear, baby? Huh? I love you, okay, baby? I can't fucking live without you! I fucking need you, Phil, and I can't deal with this anymore!"
Phil tore his ear away and looked down at the ground, anguish blocking out any of his other emotions. He felt his heart tearing open again, but this time it was his fault.
"Phil, listen," Mike said softly, urging Phil to listen again. He unwillingly laid his ear against the wall and listened to his ex, whom was crying his heart out.
"…Bayyy-bee … Please forgive me."
Phil's eyes filled with tears, and he desperately tried to wipe them away. "That's my fault," he whispered quietly. He tried to clear his throat, but a painful lump remained. "I broke him."
A/N: Let me know what you all think! Please review!
(by the way, I do feel terrible for treating Chris so poorly. I'm not a maniac... entirely, anyway...)
