His comment, I simply pretended like it was banter or some lame joke. I know there must be something behind it, and I'm not sure whether I like that idea, or want to explore it further. "I haven't heard you complain before", runs constantly, which is awkward when he's talking to me and waits for my answer; I have to ask again. He must think I've got a hearing issue, now it's the tenth time.
After the incident on the sofa, when he spilled the beans (slightly) – I changed the subject and it worked. We started talking about work, well he did mostly. He was informing me about the whole company at the moment, telling me the "dos and don'ts" of it all and the main gossip around. He's actually pretty useful when he's not playing up like a winged kid. I asked him about when he got into wrestling, and he was telling me his time in many wrestling organisations, the one he spoke most about was ROH. His hard work, determination and above all – self belief intrigued me mostly. That's when the conversation of FCW arose, he spoke about how hard he found it, knowing he had the technique and ability to further into the rankings, to then be told he's not ready caused a chip on his shoulder. I told him about Brie and me, about how she was chosen to debut first and I was to wait, but my job would be under the ring to do our "twin magic" move. Seth would express how fond he was of my sister, which confused me slightly – does he like Brie? Would drill into my head. I asked him about that and he said how she was a good ear for frustrations, so I left it at that. His personal issues are best to be closed.
After we had a long 40 minute chat about our lives at the company, he coaxed me into the idea of pizza and promised he would help clear up later on, to which I agreed. We bickered on what I wanted to order, and he immediately suggested the margarita. He was doing the reading-my-mind thing again, it was like a spell of deja-vu reaped over me as if this moment happened before, but couldn't quite pin-point it.
My mind instantly flashed at that point, "I haven't heard you complain before" - maybe we've had pizza before, as friends or something. Yes, friends. He seems friendly...
Once we had pizza, and rested for a while, I told him about my idea in getting my memories back. I told him that my plan was to search around the house for mementos or anything that could be of great value for my memories. He grinned slightly, and I gave him a death stare as to say, 'stop taking the piss'. Seth offered to help me, and I agreed. There wasn't much he would be doing that would be important now – besides it was either helping me or be bored downstairs. He took the option to help me, probably because he finds my antics amusing, but this is a serious deal.
"What about this box?" Seth passes a box from under the bed, we have already been through photos and he explained as best as he could (for someone with no clue) on my life with John. Seth begins to look into the box, "Looks like it's for storing keepsakes?"
Keepsakes?
"Let me look," I say, as I grab hold of the cardboard sides so I can have a proper look inside. "Just some old phones and letters..." I grab a hold of one letter that's crinkled at the bottom. "Dear Nicole-"
Seth's eyes freeze, "It's probably not important-"
"How are you enjoying your newly found cohabiting lifestyle?" What? Confusion fills my face up to the brink. Seth notices this and snatches the letter away from my hands. "Seth..." I say in annoyance, "I was reading that – it could be helpful!"
"It's pretty silly, this. I mean, one letter can't return all of your life's memories," he says, as he's about to rip it up, to which I quickly retrieve it back. "Nicole-"
"Nicole?" I question, only my relatives and closest friends call me Nicole. I put the letter behind my back for safety.
"What?" Seth laughs, as if I've gone crackers. "Have you miraculously changed your name since you've gone AWOL?" What a dick, I have not gone crazy, and I've not changed my name. I'm not that irresponsible.
"Nobody calls me Nicole, only closest friends and family..." I give him a questioning look, I'm sure he's sensed this now. He just stands there over the bed, and sits down putting his hands in his hair in frustration – but what's so frustrating? I'm about to apologise when he finally speaks.
He exhales, "I guess it's out of habit. When John talks about you, he always calls you Nicole."
I let it lie, knowing that I have no proof that he's lying. Instead, without Seth looking I put the letter in one of my draws, then proceed in looking through the box. Seth finds a photo album and we look through it, and find ourselves laughing at the photos. There is one of Brie and I on the beach pulling weird faces after a photo-shoot for Summerslam. Underneath that one if a picture of me laying on the floor being trampled by her cats, whilst Tyson is laughing in the background. Many pictures of the album are ones of the Divas and Superstars going out on the town, one of Brie and I with Maryse and Punk. There's ones with Sheamus, Drew McIntyre, Eve Torres, Jack Swagger and the list goes on and on. So many memories have gone by on the pages, page-by-page-by-page, and I've only gone and forgotten some of the best ones. Of course I remember the people in the photos, but some of the memories are a little hazey in a few, but I'm hoping they will come back soon.
Just as I'm about to turn to the last couple of pages, I see a small squared photo which looks like you can get from those booths city centres and supermarkets, stuck in on of the plastic slits. Seth offers to hold the book as I wiggle my small hands to retrieve it out. My eyes hover over the little image and it's me, but I realise sitting next to me is a two-tone blonde and brown haired man – with a designer esque beard, wearing a plain white tee and a black cap. He's got his arm around me, and we're smiling. Genuinely smiling, happy. I look over at Seth, his face just falls and takes hold of the picture. He looks almost sad, like he's just got told some bad news. I haven't heard you complain before – comes back into my head and I realise that he wasn't trying to have banter with me, or torment me, he was hinting to something else.
"What's this?" I finally ask him, I don't dare look at him in case the atmosphere turns awkward. So I just stare at the picture like I've lapped eyes on it for the first time, analysing all it's trying to tell me in the picture. Seth sits there almost transfixed on the thing, like he also has seen it for the first time, and that's when I realise something has hit him real hard; and it's my job to make sure he's OK. "Seth?"
He snaps out of the daze and glances over at me, looking through my eyes like he's searching for something, I just stare back. His face turns into a disappointed one, and I fathom out that I'm not giving him the response he wants. I playfully nudge him on the arm, trying to push himself to answer. "It's just a photo-" he pauses, not knowing what else to say. I know he's lying, as he won't even look at me.
"Are we friends?" I question, feeling a little guilty that I've been treating him like a brat; after all the attempts he's made to be nice to me. If we're friends then he must be taking this news hard, the fact that I can't remember who he is, out memories. I imagine myself as him, trying to get back an old friend who can't remember me, and my stomach sinks down to what feels like my gut churning. He looks at me with his brown eyes, and I put a hand on his shoulder feeling remorseful.
"Something like that," he says, as he shuts the book and holds onto the photo.
"You can keep it,-" I begin. "Only if you want it," I smile at him. He half smiles back at me, his eyes gleaming slightly to which I question whether their filling up with tears. He notices my contemplation and blinks and clears his throat with a deep cough.
"Well." He stands up, passes me the photo and rearranges himself. "I best be going, got a early start tomorrow morning, with all the interviews. You know how it is..."
I'm flabbergasted as to how he manages to keep a brave face and completely ignore my offer. Not that I'm angry, but more confused. It's like he's hiding something from me, or that I've made him feel uncomfortable. Maybe we were friends, and I broke up our friendship. Maybe it was my fault we don't talk, and he's upset because I've brought it up again. My instincts tell me to press on with the conversation before he leaves, but my sympathy for him tells me not too – and I'm at a crossroads.
We clear a couple of the things up, and put the box under the bed. So much for getting my memories back, if anything I'm more confused now from when we started. Seth grabs him coat from the bed and we make our way downstairs. Feeling bad about our past, which I still believe must be my fault – I ask him whether he would like to have a drink before he goes. My attempt to keep the peace or make amends. He just shakes his head, and I realise how much of a idiot I must look. I want to apologise again, say how sorry I am for whatever it is I've done. I want to ask him what I've done, and is there a way that I can make it up to him. But I know that what was in the past is meant to be left in the past, and I think he realises that too. His eyes hover over from the door to the kitchen sink, his eyes peer back at mine, and I already know that he's trying to apologise for not going through what he promised.
"It's fine, you go-" I smile. He smiles back, turns around and opens the door. I hold the edge of the door open as he walks out. I stand outside in the drive way, when he turns around to me.
"Call me if you need anything," he says, as he rubs the back of his neck. He then playfully nudges my nose, in a punching motion making me swipe his hand out of the way as he laughs. "I'll see you," he walks towards his car as I walk towards now a empty house. It's not until I reach the door, that I feel empty also.