Author's Note: The song in this chapter is "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne,
and that's all I have to say. Enjoy.
~~~~~
"...and there's the autograph signing on Friday, a match against Edge on Sunday Night Heat, and then he's free until Tuesday night. The plane tickets to Smackdown are for a Monday morning flight, and he won't need ticket stubs..."
Miranda nodded as her secretary handed her a stack of notes, reading each one off before piling them on the desk. Yes, HER secretary. Miranda was still adjusting to the thought of having another person taking her messages, helping to keep track of her appointments, and doing little errands that Miranda didn't even know had to be done. It was nice to have those things done for her, but she would've rather taken the extra workload herself- just so she would know how it was done.
She wanted to be involved in every area of work as she could, so she would gain the experience and knowledge to take her to the top. I wonder, she thought, if anyone other than a McMahon could be chairman of this company. If it was possible, she wanted to do it.
Settling into her new job had been surprisingly easy. Once the contract was signed and everything got rolling, she had no problem getting the feel of things and learning how everything was done. When she called to book Kurt's appearances or hotel rooms, she knew now to immediately mention who she was... and who she worked for. It was a nice perk, having the hotel receptionist immediately bend over backwards when she said those three little letters: w, w, and e. This managing position was turning out to be a fun ride.
Even the people weren't hard to get along with, although most of them found her too quiet and slightly unnerving. That reaction was normal, friends and family had been saying that about her since she was a child. A child who wore black, spoke softly, and thought of everything in a different way than the rest of the world. Her mother used to call her a "black spot in the sun of the world." Miranda never liked her mother anyway, so comments like that weren't uncommon and they couldn't bother her icy exterior. Not anymore.
Crazy, but that's how it goes Millions of people living as fools Maybe it's not too late To learn how to love And forget how to hate Mental wounds not healing Life's a bitter shame I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
A sharp pain raced through her head, and Miranda let her head fall forward onto the desk. Her secretary was long gone and no one saw her, and Miranda slowly groaned as she regulated her breathing. "Damn it," she whispered roughly as another dagger crossed her temple. It had been a long time since thinking about old times had given her a headache this bad.
I've listened to preachers I've listened to fools I've watched all the dropouts Who make their own rules
Just remember what Dr. Kennet said, she thought. You've changed. Things aren't like that anymore, she's gone and so are you. No more hurting, and no one ever left. Just remember it, just keep remembering. It wasn't your fault, any child would've reacted the same way. It was your only defense, Dr. Kennet said that thousands of times. They fixed it, those two years with nothing to think about but your actions fixed it.
One person conditioned to rule and control The media sells it and you live the role Mental wounds still screaming Driving me insane I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
Her breathing slowed but she could feel the beads of sweat on her forehead, and she shoved her chair from the desk. Some Tylenol will fix it, or maybe just a glass of cold water. Yeah, she told herself, just get up and get something to fix this. It should stop in a minute or two anyway...
I know that things are going wrong for me You gotta listen to my words Yeh-h Heirs of a cold war That's what we've become Inheriting troubles I'm mentally numb
"Miranda? Are you okay?" She didn't have to look up to recognize Kurt's voice, and he was standing beside her before she could tell him to leave. Company was the last thing she needed. But, he knelt down by her chair and rubbed her back, asking questions and watching her with concerned blue jade eyes. "Are you an asthmatic? Do you have allergies, or a Medic Alert bracelet?" He grabbed her hand, when did her skin get so cold and clammy?, and checked for anything that might help, but nothing was there.
Crazy, I just cannot bear I'm living with something that just isn't fair Mental wounds not healing Who and what's to blame I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
She turned away from him and put her head between her knees, and fought the trembling in her hands. "I'm fine," she said roughly. "It's... just a headache."
Kurt didn't believe it, she never thought he would- he actually appeared to be more perceptive than that. Instead he put his hand over her forehead and turned her face back toward him. "Sure, and headaches always make people have trouble breathing like that," he replied, and then sighed. "Has this happened before?"
She swallowed thickly, did he have to be so nosey? "A... couple of times. It's nothing, it's going to go away soon." Yeah, right. Just like the idea that if you close your eyes, everything that you can't see, can't see you. And the idea that saying someone has changed really means it. She kept her eyes closed and felt her heart beat, her chest rise, and the gentle rubbing back and forth on her shoulder.
Without saying a word, he stayed close to her and watched to make sure she didn't pass out or hurt herself, and he breathed heavily in relief when she finally stopped shaking. She sat up and took a deep breath, and then finally brought her eyes to look at him. She didn't want to know what he was thinking.
"I was just coming to see if the airport had my tickets... I'm glad I didn't just call you," he said after a pause, giving her a slight smile. She fell back into her seat, and he stood up to look down at her. She looked nervous, tense, and not the least bit intimidating. All he wanted to do was comfort her and find out what was wrong... why didn't that sound like a bad thing? "So," he continued. "Care to tell me what just happened?"
Miranda shrugged, acting casual despite her exterior which was anything but. "A headache." She paused and then grabbed one of her secretary's notes, changing the subject quickly. "You've got tickets for Monday morning, the airport has it on their records so you don't need the actual papers-"
She was cut off by Kurt grabbing her chair and pulling it around, lowering his chin and raising hers so they were face to face. Her eyes widened before she could stop it, and he locked his eyes with hers. "I don't care about the plane ticket," he said softly, and she was reminded of why he was a professional wrestler. The way he stood over her- making her heart race, how he looked like a competitor, and that serious glint in his eyes... she couldn't help but be nervous.
"It was nothing that I can't handle," she replied finally, pulling the rest of her unbreakable exterior together before trying to stand up. He didn't move, and she lowered her eyebrows. "You're in my way," she told him, and Kurt had to grin silently as he stood his ground. "I'd like to stand up now, I'm feeling fine."
He listened to her voice, she was speaking more than he'd ever heard her, but still didn't move. "I'm glad you're okay, but maybe I should take you to a hospital." She froze, he didn't know why, and Kurt stood up. "Will you just tell me what that was? It's a lot easier than arguing with you."
She didn't want to, but she'd be damned if he took her to the hospital. Dr. Kennet would find out what happened, and WHY, and he'd rethink his evaluation. His evaluation of her and how she'd changed and how she could control her reactions. Miranda didn't need that, not when she had been making a lot of progress in her life. So, she had no other choice. "I don't know," she said bravely, not looking away for a second. "Probably a panic attack or something like it."
His eyes darkened, confused, and she stood up. Maybe she shouldn't have, because it showed the reality of his 6'2 height against her 5'6. He pursed his lips and examined her too-serious tone. "Why a panic attack?" he asked.
Her dark eyes, now he could see they were a rich brown, glanced away. That definitely took her calmness down a notch. "Are you going to make me go to the hospital?" she said after a sigh. He shook his head, and she was visibly relieved. "Well, it's not your business. I'm fine now, you can feel proud of yourself, and don't forget your flight on Monday."
Looking at her in disbelief, his eyebrows raised as she walked past him and left. "What the hell was that?" he mumbled, before shaking his head. She was a character, to say the least, and he wanted to know why.
~~~~~
Miranda sat on the small balcony, jutting from the back of her and Jayden's apartment, and her mind was still spinning. She couldn't count the number of times she'd rethought every word she said to Kurt, everything she'd told him, and whether he understood what she meant or not. The last thing she wanted was for him to go poking around in her business, but she had a feeling that if he didn't- Mr. McMahon would tell him what he wanted to know.
In her opinion, too many people knew about her life already. Herself, of course, Jayden, her... mother, and a few various doctors and the like. Her father never knew, she had a desire to know him and live with him but wouldn't let him know her the same way. She had wanted a closeness from him and a father figure, but she prevented them from having anything together. She sighed and took another drink from her glass.
Jayden wasn't home, and Miranda was glad for that. She knew her friend would want to know what bothered her, and why, and Miranda wouldn't open up and tell her. It was just her way of dealing with her problems, hold them inside until she burst. Jayden knew that, but she would still be hurt by the "lack of trust" between them, even though it was only Miranda's way of keeping her privacy. If she was going to tell anyone it would be her closest friend, but she didn't tell much.
The phone rang, and Miranda reluctantly got up. Her "day in the office" had ended, but she had a feeling this was related to it. She was right... in a way.
"Hello, Miranda Irving speaking," she said automatically, it was a way of answering that she had adopted- ever since one of Jayden's boyfriends had called and launched into a fury of pleas without asking if it really was Jayden on the line. She heard a slight laugh in response, and her eyes narrowed. "Who is this?"
"You answer the phone like you're in an office," he replied. "It's Kurt. Don't hang up."
Miranda sighed and slid into the nearest chair. Of all the people she didn't want to hear from, it had to be him. "I'll just let the phone hang in the sink, if that's alright with you." He didn't laugh, she was serious, and she twirled the phone cord between two ringless fingers. "What can I help you with, Kurt?"
"I'm not going to bother you about this afternoon- if that's what you're thinking." She rolled her eyes- yeah, right. "I thought I'd let you know that I'll be missing the match on Sunday. My cousin's getting married, and I'm the best man."
Her mind shifted to all-work, and she choked for a second. "You can't miss Sunday Night Heat! It's only three days away, how are they supposed to schedule the change now?" She put one hand to her forehead and pushed hair from her face and glasses, this was perfect. Just perfect. She'd been in this job for a little over a month, and already he was planning on missing a big match. And the blame, of course, would fall on her. She groaned inwardly. What a damn perfect day.
"They moved the date of the wedding, and I can't miss it. We're really close, I'm not going to miss Scott's wedding- I think they'll understand that."
No, they won't, she wanted to say. This is a business, and if it's anything like other businesses- they only care about getting what they want. "Have you spoken to Mr. McMahon about this?" she said instead, curling her feet up underneath her with ease. She doubted he'd even thought about calling the boss.
"Well, no. That's usually what a manager is for, Miranda."
She raised her eyebrows, even though he couldn't see them, and shook her head. I must've missed the part of the contract that said I had to be your messenger, here I was thinking that I just made appointments and kept track of your schedule and matches. Wait a second, she thought, I'm in control of his matches... damn I hope he isn't right. "You can't miss that match," she said after a pause. "It's only a wedding, after all."
"Okay, so you're not much on weddings, neither am I, but I'm still going. Why wouldn't they understand that he wants my support?"
"You're not giving me much choice," Miranda replied. "If he wants your support... just call him from the show." She heard his groan of frustration, and she shook her head. "And that's final, Kurt. You're not missing the show." He didn't say much after that, and Miranda hoped she wasn't as wrong about his whereabouts as she thought. Kurt seemed too determined to go, and she wouldn't be completely surprised if he skipped the show.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"...and there's the autograph signing on Friday, a match against Edge on Sunday Night Heat, and then he's free until Tuesday night. The plane tickets to Smackdown are for a Monday morning flight, and he won't need ticket stubs..."
Miranda nodded as her secretary handed her a stack of notes, reading each one off before piling them on the desk. Yes, HER secretary. Miranda was still adjusting to the thought of having another person taking her messages, helping to keep track of her appointments, and doing little errands that Miranda didn't even know had to be done. It was nice to have those things done for her, but she would've rather taken the extra workload herself- just so she would know how it was done.
She wanted to be involved in every area of work as she could, so she would gain the experience and knowledge to take her to the top. I wonder, she thought, if anyone other than a McMahon could be chairman of this company. If it was possible, she wanted to do it.
Settling into her new job had been surprisingly easy. Once the contract was signed and everything got rolling, she had no problem getting the feel of things and learning how everything was done. When she called to book Kurt's appearances or hotel rooms, she knew now to immediately mention who she was... and who she worked for. It was a nice perk, having the hotel receptionist immediately bend over backwards when she said those three little letters: w, w, and e. This managing position was turning out to be a fun ride.
Even the people weren't hard to get along with, although most of them found her too quiet and slightly unnerving. That reaction was normal, friends and family had been saying that about her since she was a child. A child who wore black, spoke softly, and thought of everything in a different way than the rest of the world. Her mother used to call her a "black spot in the sun of the world." Miranda never liked her mother anyway, so comments like that weren't uncommon and they couldn't bother her icy exterior. Not anymore.
Crazy, but that's how it goes Millions of people living as fools Maybe it's not too late To learn how to love And forget how to hate Mental wounds not healing Life's a bitter shame I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
A sharp pain raced through her head, and Miranda let her head fall forward onto the desk. Her secretary was long gone and no one saw her, and Miranda slowly groaned as she regulated her breathing. "Damn it," she whispered roughly as another dagger crossed her temple. It had been a long time since thinking about old times had given her a headache this bad.
I've listened to preachers I've listened to fools I've watched all the dropouts Who make their own rules
Just remember what Dr. Kennet said, she thought. You've changed. Things aren't like that anymore, she's gone and so are you. No more hurting, and no one ever left. Just remember it, just keep remembering. It wasn't your fault, any child would've reacted the same way. It was your only defense, Dr. Kennet said that thousands of times. They fixed it, those two years with nothing to think about but your actions fixed it.
One person conditioned to rule and control The media sells it and you live the role Mental wounds still screaming Driving me insane I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
Her breathing slowed but she could feel the beads of sweat on her forehead, and she shoved her chair from the desk. Some Tylenol will fix it, or maybe just a glass of cold water. Yeah, she told herself, just get up and get something to fix this. It should stop in a minute or two anyway...
I know that things are going wrong for me You gotta listen to my words Yeh-h Heirs of a cold war That's what we've become Inheriting troubles I'm mentally numb
"Miranda? Are you okay?" She didn't have to look up to recognize Kurt's voice, and he was standing beside her before she could tell him to leave. Company was the last thing she needed. But, he knelt down by her chair and rubbed her back, asking questions and watching her with concerned blue jade eyes. "Are you an asthmatic? Do you have allergies, or a Medic Alert bracelet?" He grabbed her hand, when did her skin get so cold and clammy?, and checked for anything that might help, but nothing was there.
Crazy, I just cannot bear I'm living with something that just isn't fair Mental wounds not healing Who and what's to blame I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
She turned away from him and put her head between her knees, and fought the trembling in her hands. "I'm fine," she said roughly. "It's... just a headache."
Kurt didn't believe it, she never thought he would- he actually appeared to be more perceptive than that. Instead he put his hand over her forehead and turned her face back toward him. "Sure, and headaches always make people have trouble breathing like that," he replied, and then sighed. "Has this happened before?"
She swallowed thickly, did he have to be so nosey? "A... couple of times. It's nothing, it's going to go away soon." Yeah, right. Just like the idea that if you close your eyes, everything that you can't see, can't see you. And the idea that saying someone has changed really means it. She kept her eyes closed and felt her heart beat, her chest rise, and the gentle rubbing back and forth on her shoulder.
Without saying a word, he stayed close to her and watched to make sure she didn't pass out or hurt herself, and he breathed heavily in relief when she finally stopped shaking. She sat up and took a deep breath, and then finally brought her eyes to look at him. She didn't want to know what he was thinking.
"I was just coming to see if the airport had my tickets... I'm glad I didn't just call you," he said after a pause, giving her a slight smile. She fell back into her seat, and he stood up to look down at her. She looked nervous, tense, and not the least bit intimidating. All he wanted to do was comfort her and find out what was wrong... why didn't that sound like a bad thing? "So," he continued. "Care to tell me what just happened?"
Miranda shrugged, acting casual despite her exterior which was anything but. "A headache." She paused and then grabbed one of her secretary's notes, changing the subject quickly. "You've got tickets for Monday morning, the airport has it on their records so you don't need the actual papers-"
She was cut off by Kurt grabbing her chair and pulling it around, lowering his chin and raising hers so they were face to face. Her eyes widened before she could stop it, and he locked his eyes with hers. "I don't care about the plane ticket," he said softly, and she was reminded of why he was a professional wrestler. The way he stood over her- making her heart race, how he looked like a competitor, and that serious glint in his eyes... she couldn't help but be nervous.
"It was nothing that I can't handle," she replied finally, pulling the rest of her unbreakable exterior together before trying to stand up. He didn't move, and she lowered her eyebrows. "You're in my way," she told him, and Kurt had to grin silently as he stood his ground. "I'd like to stand up now, I'm feeling fine."
He listened to her voice, she was speaking more than he'd ever heard her, but still didn't move. "I'm glad you're okay, but maybe I should take you to a hospital." She froze, he didn't know why, and Kurt stood up. "Will you just tell me what that was? It's a lot easier than arguing with you."
She didn't want to, but she'd be damned if he took her to the hospital. Dr. Kennet would find out what happened, and WHY, and he'd rethink his evaluation. His evaluation of her and how she'd changed and how she could control her reactions. Miranda didn't need that, not when she had been making a lot of progress in her life. So, she had no other choice. "I don't know," she said bravely, not looking away for a second. "Probably a panic attack or something like it."
His eyes darkened, confused, and she stood up. Maybe she shouldn't have, because it showed the reality of his 6'2 height against her 5'6. He pursed his lips and examined her too-serious tone. "Why a panic attack?" he asked.
Her dark eyes, now he could see they were a rich brown, glanced away. That definitely took her calmness down a notch. "Are you going to make me go to the hospital?" she said after a sigh. He shook his head, and she was visibly relieved. "Well, it's not your business. I'm fine now, you can feel proud of yourself, and don't forget your flight on Monday."
Looking at her in disbelief, his eyebrows raised as she walked past him and left. "What the hell was that?" he mumbled, before shaking his head. She was a character, to say the least, and he wanted to know why.
~~~~~
Miranda sat on the small balcony, jutting from the back of her and Jayden's apartment, and her mind was still spinning. She couldn't count the number of times she'd rethought every word she said to Kurt, everything she'd told him, and whether he understood what she meant or not. The last thing she wanted was for him to go poking around in her business, but she had a feeling that if he didn't- Mr. McMahon would tell him what he wanted to know.
In her opinion, too many people knew about her life already. Herself, of course, Jayden, her... mother, and a few various doctors and the like. Her father never knew, she had a desire to know him and live with him but wouldn't let him know her the same way. She had wanted a closeness from him and a father figure, but she prevented them from having anything together. She sighed and took another drink from her glass.
Jayden wasn't home, and Miranda was glad for that. She knew her friend would want to know what bothered her, and why, and Miranda wouldn't open up and tell her. It was just her way of dealing with her problems, hold them inside until she burst. Jayden knew that, but she would still be hurt by the "lack of trust" between them, even though it was only Miranda's way of keeping her privacy. If she was going to tell anyone it would be her closest friend, but she didn't tell much.
The phone rang, and Miranda reluctantly got up. Her "day in the office" had ended, but she had a feeling this was related to it. She was right... in a way.
"Hello, Miranda Irving speaking," she said automatically, it was a way of answering that she had adopted- ever since one of Jayden's boyfriends had called and launched into a fury of pleas without asking if it really was Jayden on the line. She heard a slight laugh in response, and her eyes narrowed. "Who is this?"
"You answer the phone like you're in an office," he replied. "It's Kurt. Don't hang up."
Miranda sighed and slid into the nearest chair. Of all the people she didn't want to hear from, it had to be him. "I'll just let the phone hang in the sink, if that's alright with you." He didn't laugh, she was serious, and she twirled the phone cord between two ringless fingers. "What can I help you with, Kurt?"
"I'm not going to bother you about this afternoon- if that's what you're thinking." She rolled her eyes- yeah, right. "I thought I'd let you know that I'll be missing the match on Sunday. My cousin's getting married, and I'm the best man."
Her mind shifted to all-work, and she choked for a second. "You can't miss Sunday Night Heat! It's only three days away, how are they supposed to schedule the change now?" She put one hand to her forehead and pushed hair from her face and glasses, this was perfect. Just perfect. She'd been in this job for a little over a month, and already he was planning on missing a big match. And the blame, of course, would fall on her. She groaned inwardly. What a damn perfect day.
"They moved the date of the wedding, and I can't miss it. We're really close, I'm not going to miss Scott's wedding- I think they'll understand that."
No, they won't, she wanted to say. This is a business, and if it's anything like other businesses- they only care about getting what they want. "Have you spoken to Mr. McMahon about this?" she said instead, curling her feet up underneath her with ease. She doubted he'd even thought about calling the boss.
"Well, no. That's usually what a manager is for, Miranda."
She raised her eyebrows, even though he couldn't see them, and shook her head. I must've missed the part of the contract that said I had to be your messenger, here I was thinking that I just made appointments and kept track of your schedule and matches. Wait a second, she thought, I'm in control of his matches... damn I hope he isn't right. "You can't miss that match," she said after a pause. "It's only a wedding, after all."
"Okay, so you're not much on weddings, neither am I, but I'm still going. Why wouldn't they understand that he wants my support?"
"You're not giving me much choice," Miranda replied. "If he wants your support... just call him from the show." She heard his groan of frustration, and she shook her head. "And that's final, Kurt. You're not missing the show." He didn't say much after that, and Miranda hoped she wasn't as wrong about his whereabouts as she thought. Kurt seemed too determined to go, and she wouldn't be completely surprised if he skipped the show.
~~~~~