Chapter 6:

Chaos


It had happened slowly over time, but SummerSlam had become a week-long spectacle, in the same vein as WrestleMania in the spring. The entire company, from the ring crew to the Superstar roster, had set up shop in Brooklyn for the week. It was a chance for the roster who didn't live on the east coast to take in the attractions between the aggressive promotional schedule that was in place. While Jory would freely admit that it was nice to stay in a place for more than a night, there were still wall-to-wall press conferences, morning news appearances, radio interviews, and then the company commitments, like showing up to NXT shows and fan festivals. Jory had the feeling that it was only a matter of time before SummerSlam was held in stadiums like WrestleMania, instead of standard arenas like the Barclays Centre.

Jory pulled into the parking space behind the arena. Killing the ignition, she sat in silence behind the wheel for a few moments, letting her head fall back against the headrest. She sucked in a breath and shut her eyes. After Seth had made it back to the hotel last week, she had tried to talk to him. With every day that passed, it was getting harder for her to ignore the feeling that she was nothing more than a glorified work hookup, someone that he could sleep with on the road.

He hadn't been in the mood to talk. Jory winced, recalling how he had all but explicitly called her a distraction to her face. As hard as she tried, the words had hurt her like a punch in the chest. Since then, the two had barely spoken. After everything they had been through, Jory was heartbroken that he saw her that way. So, after getting home, she'd started making her plans for SummerSlam; the first order of business was asking to be roommates with Nia, who agreed. Jory knew that Nia wanted to ask what was happening with Jory and Seth, but Jory was relieved that Nia had kept that to herself. She had sent Seth a text message to tell him about the change in plans, but he hadn't responded. Jory realized she hadn't heard from him since they separated at the airport. Sitting behind the steering wheel, Jory realized that she wasn't looking forward to seeing him. It was her plan to keep her head down and avoid him.

It was six days until SummerSlam, and Jory could feel the electricity in the air, a stark contrast to the tension that had taken over her body. She wasn't sure where things were headed with Seth, but she had a feeling that there wasn't going to be a happy ending. He had told her they could talk after SummerSlam, that until then, all of his focus needed to go on keeping his title, a title that he was already resigned to losing. All last week she'd heard nothing but Seth lament over it, talking about how he was screwed, that nobody could help him, that Sanity had played the numbers game better than The Shield had. Jory disagreed, and she still struggled to understand how Seth could be so defeatist.

She stepped out of the car, dressed in sleek black vinyl leggings and a maroon sleeveless top with a draping neckline that revealed a hint of her black bra. Her hair was pulled away from her face and curled, the heels on her boots sky high. No accessories and bold makeup completed a look that she had told her reflection was "bad-ass". She walked around to the back of her rental car and grabbed her bag. Slipping the keys to her rental in the front compartment after she locked the car, she pulled up the handle and made her way towards the arena, dragging the bag on wheels behind her.

Fans were lined up on the other side of the barricade, held back by security guards in bright yellow jackets. They were rabid, cheering and begging Jory to stop and take selfies with them, to sign autographs. With a smile on her face that felt fake and plastic, Jory approached and did what she was supposed to do. She posed and signed things for a few minutes before she attempted to break away to go into the arena.

The attack happened so quickly that Jory had no time to brace for it.

There had been a loud warning from a couple fans, but before the words even registered in her brain, she was rammed, rib-first against the barricade. The wind was knocked out of her almost immediately before she crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. She had no time to catch her breath, as she felt a hand on her ponytail, dragging her across the parking lot. Jory struggled, hands on the hand, her feet scraping along the ground. She winced; between her ankle rolling and twisting and the burning in her scalp, she couldn't tell what hurt worse.

Dropped to the concrete, Alexa Bliss straddled Jory and began hitting her over and over again with open and closed fists, her pink-tinged blonde hair swinging everywhere as she attacked. She was yelling incoherently, war cries. Jory got her forearms up to protect her face, only for Alexa to shift and begin driving her knee into Jory's ribs, over and over. Jory felt her ankle swelling inside her boot.

Referees and security moved quickly, shouting for Alexa to stop. Several agents ran behind them. Alexa was grabbed and yanked off Jory, who rolled to her side and curled into a ball, gasping and releasing choked sobs from the pain she was in. Swinging her hair out of her way with her hands, Alexa narrowed her blue eyes at the woman on the ground in front of her.

"That's just a taste, bitch," Alexa shouted. "That's my title – mine! And you'll get it over my dead body!"

"Alexa, that's enough!" Jory didn't see who shouted that, but the voice sounded familiar. Every breath felt like it took a great deal of effort. Danilo, one of the WWE referees, slid in front of her.

"Jordana, are you all right?"

"Help..." she managed.

"We're going to get you to the trainer's office. Don't worry – we'll get you patched up good as new."

Jory barely registered the words. She was in her own world of pain, and there wasn't anything at the moment that could pull her out.


Dressed in a black button-down shirt rolled up to the sleeves and a burgundy blazer with a black back, Baron stood in the General Manager's office to the left of Kurt, the two of them silently watching the camera capturing the footage in the parking lot. It was Baron's plan to shadow Kurt for the night and try to soak in every single bit of advice he could get. There wasn't a soul alive in the locker room that would say Kurt wasn't one of the greatest to ever lace up a pair of boots; the fact that his run as General Manager in 2004 – while full of him trying to engage in petty vendettas – had been relatively successful. Baron knew that the smartest thing he could do was seize every opportunity to pick Kurt's brain.

Kurt watched the television, bemused, dressed in a blue suit with a white button-down shirt and a red tie. Baron had his arms crossed over his chest, his lips pursed into a thin line. "The situation between Jordana and Alexa is beginning to reach critical mass again," Baron informed him. Kurt nodded; WWE cameras always seemed to be positioned everywhere, so he wasn't at all surprised to see that the attack had been captured on film; the same way his horrible fall at the hands of the Big Show had during his run as GM. "Tell me you have a solution, or at least an idea, Kurt."

"I do, but it's nothing that's gonna happen tonight," Kurt told him. With a sigh, Kurt let his hands drop to his sides. "I mean, I can't in good conscience send Jordana out there after that. I would just be setting her up to fail, and I could send her into an injury that could put her on the shelf for God knows how long."

"You're right." Baron shook his head. "This is the second week in a row that Alexa has attacked Jordana like a coward. You know it's because she wants the Women's Championship. We can't be out here rewarding her for behaving like this, Kurt. You know it, and I know it."

"You're right, but at some point, I think they should battle it out for the shot." Kurt turned to Baron. "At this rate, I feel like we need to hire a bodyguard for Jordana. This is getting ridiculous." Baron nodded. The two men fell silent. Kurt's cell phone went off, and he pulled it out of his pocket to read the message.

"Any word on her injuries?" Baron asked. Kurt shook his head.

"It's the wife. No word yet – I'm going to send you to the trainer's room to look in on her. I know you two are friends. I'm sure you're itching to make sure she's all right. Before you go, though – I want to do something for you."

"What's that?"

"Well, you've been holding your own around here pretty well, so I wanted to let you book a match tonight."

"For real?"

"Yeah. What do you got?"

"Off the top of my head...I want a rematch from last week. Seth, Roman, and Finn against Sanity. No disqualification, no count outs, falls count anywhere. I want a winner."

"Sounds like a hell of a main event," Kurt told him.

"I am going to go and check on Jory."

"Do that. Send her my best."

"I will." With that, Baron left the office. Kurt turned his attention back to the TV screen.


"Hey! I saw what happened out there. Unacceptable. Are you okay?"

Jory looked up to find Baron standing in front of her, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. In his left hand, he held a blue ice pack. He held it out to her, offering her a sheepish smile. With a sigh, she took the bag and placed it on her swollen ankle. "I'm pretty far from okay," she informed him angrily. She shook her head. "I should have seen it coming. She got me last week, too."

"It's not your fault," Baron assured her. "She was out of line. Besides, with all the security in the parking lot, it's not a stretch to think that nobody would try anything." She shot him a look, and all he could do was offer her a comforting smile in return. "What does the doc have to say about your injuries?"

"Ribs are probably bruised. Ankle is twisted. He said I should be okay in the next week or two. But if you've got plans for me this week, then it's off the table now." She huffed. "Which is probably just what that little bitch wanted."

"She can't get away with this forever, Jory. You and I both know that. One of these days, you're going to get your hands on her again, and you're going to remind her why you aren't someone to fuck with." He put a hand on her shoulder. She shot him a skeptical look. "Jory, Kurt was mentioning..."

The door burst open, and Jory was surprised to find Seth standing in front of them, dressed in his ring gear and one of his T-shirts, his hair tied back in a bun at the base of his neck. Standing in front of them, Seth's eyes shifted between the two of them, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Baron's hand on her shoulder. Even though she wasn't doing anything wrong, just talking to a friend, Jory couldn't help but feel like she had done something terrible by the look he was giving her. Baron removed his hand and turned to Seth, the smug smile on his face lighting Seth's already shortened fuse.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?" Seth asked loudly. Jory realized right away that Seth was out to make a scene, and she suddenly wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She could read it on his face, in the tension in his body and the position he assumed. She sighed.

"What could you possibly be interrupting?" Baron asked him. Seth glared at the tall man in front of him. He knew that Baron wasn't oblivious; the smile on Baron's face told Seth that the "constable" knew exactly what he was doing. "Kurt sent me to check on your woman since she got jumped in the parking lot. Is that why you're here? I mean, this is the second time she's been attacked in two weeks, and I figure someone should be here with her to make sure she's all right."

Jory sucked in a breath. That was a shot across the bow with Seth, and she knew it. As much as she wanted to jump in and defend Seth, she didn't have it in her to do it, because she knew Baron was right. Seth had completely ignored her last week. Seth's eyes narrowed and Jory felt her hand begin to shake. She was prepared for a brawl to break out between the two men, and she was too injured to stop it if it happened. Seth shook his head; he refused to let the comment slide.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Seth demanded angrily, shoving Baron away from Jory and taking his place beside Jory, his rightful place, as far as he was concerned. Baron shot a look at Jory, who appeared downright mortified. He raised his hands in surrender.

"Where were you last week?" Baron asked. "She might be too nice to call you out on your shit, but I'm not."

"Baron..." There was a twinge of warning in Jory's voice. Baron's gaze moved to her, his expression softening.

"Don't talk to him," Seth barked. Jory's eyes narrowed. Baron shook his head in disgust.

"Rest your ankle, Jory – I'll talk to you later."

"Over my dead body, you will," Seth growled.

"Seth." Jory's tone was tense and angry, firm and full of authority, but it did no good. She reached out to grab Seth's arm to hold him in place, but he shook out of her grasp. The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to come to blows in the medical room. Sure, there was no better place for it to happen, but she had visions of being knocked off the examination table and getting hurt worse. Men, she thought to herself bitterly.

"I need to get back to Kurt. Good luck on your match tonight," Baron offered.

"Like you fucking care," Seth shot back.

Baron grinned. "I do, Rollins. A win could do wonders for you. Get you some momentum going into SummerSlam, and who knows? If you get your groove back in the ring, maybe you can start measuring up where it counts."

Seth saw red. "You motherfucker..."

"Seth!"

He didn't hear Jory. Infuriated, he lunged at Baron, but Jory grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back. "Stop it!" she exclaimed. For the past few weeks, she kept thinking she couldn't be more embarrassed, and every week, she seemed to be getting surprised at how mortified she could be.

Baron was gone, and they knew his grin was a mile wide. Not only was that a direct hit, but it had also been a knockout. As angry as Jory wanted to be with Baron, she knew the situation was going to come to a head quickly because of the way Seth walked into the room. There was never going to be a good outcome.

Seth yanked himself out of Jory's grasp and wheeled on her. "You're really going to let him talk to me like that?" he yelled, his anger seemingly bouncing off every wall in the room. Jory's eyes narrowed.

"How was he supposed to react when you came in here acting like he was the enemy?" she retorted.

"He is the enemy!" Seth shouted back at her. He shook his head. "What the fuck are you telling him about us?"

"I don't tell him anything. I don't talk to anybody about you," she insisted, but she could see in his eyes that he didn't believe her, and the fact that he saw her as a liar was just as crushing as his words the week before.

"I've humored this shit with him long enough, but it stops here. I don't want you hanging out with him. I don't want to hear that you're around him. I don't want to hear his name. Ever."

Jory studied him with narrowed eyes. After a moment, they widened, incredulous. "You're serious."

"Of course I'm fucking serious."

"Wow." Jory removed the ice pack from her ankle and slowly slid herself off the table. Reaching down, she picked up her boots. Whatever concerns Seth had about her injury had disappeared; he was so angry in the moment that he couldn't see the forest for the trees. "I can't believe you."

"Can't believe me? You seriously just stayed silent while he came in here and attacked my manhood, and my career, and you can't believe me? That's fucked up."

"He attacked you because you walked in here with your Jealous Boyfriend hat on, and let me tell you – this look sucks on you," Jory snapped back at him. She shook her head. "If you think for a second you get to dictate any part of my life with the way you've been acting, Seth, I have to tell you – it's not happening."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means." She shook her head. "Jesus, I've never been more embarrassed."

"You're embarrassed? Well, let me tell you..."

Just then, the door opened, and their gazes shifted to Roman. His presence forced every word to die in the air between them. With a last death glare at Seth, Jory limped out of the room, and Seth remembered that she was injured. "Jory..." he started, but the door slammed behind her. Roman turned to Seth, incredulous.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, bro?"

"Not you, too..." Seth started angrily, but Roman held up his hand to silence him.

"Everyone could hear you two shouting at each other down the hallway," Roman told him. "And I hate to tell you...with the way you've been the last few weeks, it's not a good look for you."

"He started it!" Seth shook his head in disgust. "And she couldn't even be bothered to take my side. What kind of fucking bullshit is that?"

Roman placed his hands on Seth's shoulders and stared deep into the eyes of the man known as the Kingslayer. "Seth, listen to me: remember our talk last week. Whatever the fuck is happening between you two right now has to wait. It has to wait until SummerSlam is over, or that title that you've worked so hard to get is going to end up in the hands of Eric Young, and God knows what the fuck he is going to do with that.

"Focus, Seth. Are you focused?"

With an aggravated sigh, Seth nodded. "Focused."

"Good. Stay that way."


Seth should have been happy.

He'd gone out with Roman and Finn for some beers after the three of them had finally accomplished a feat Seth had been trying for weeks – they had defeated Sanity, the three men the last team standing to close out Raw. After the show, the trio had ended up at a cool little joint called the Gotham City Lounge, a comic book themed wall with murals of Batman and Wonder Woman on the walls. Seth was bummed they didn't serve food, but it was a fun hole in the wall. He drank virgin drinks while the guys had some beers. The men had talked about the victory, about how great it felt to give Sanity a dose of their own medicine after spending so many weeks on the losing end.

But Seth wasn't happy. The fight with Jory and the cross exchange with Baron were weighing on him. He couldn't help but wonder if Jory wasn't satisfied with their sex life. She'd never said anything about it, so he always assumed things were good. He couldn't understand why she was being so difficult while he was dealing with so much.

He wasn't happy to come back to an empty hotel room. Jory's text message about rooming with Nia for the week had hurt him, but he supposed it wasn't a surprise after their "talk" the week before. But now, alone in his hotel room, he realized he missed the sound of her singing in the shower, of their ice cream nights, and the smell of her perfume.

With a sigh, Seth pulled out his cell phone and stared at the screen. He thought about sending a message to Jory, about throwing himself on her mercy. But he couldn't do it. Baron's words had cut him deeper than he realized, and he couldn't help but think she was spilling the beans to Baron about personal things.

Another thought crossed his mind – was she sleeping with him? They had looked awfully comfortable in the trainer's room when he walked in. Baron had somehow seamlessly slid himself into Jory's life, and Seth didn't like or trust that one bit. Did he go about things wrong earlier in the night? Removed from the scene in the locker room, Seth had to admit once again that he had acted like a world-class jerk. But he wasn't about to apologize for looking out for his girlfriend. For that reason, he decided that he was not going to apologize at all.

He wondered if she was with him right now. His mind began to go in a million different directions, some of the scenes in his mind making him angry enough to throw his phone. He ended up dropping it on the bed and shaking his head in disgust. "Just how well does he know you, Jory?" he murmured, sitting down heavily on the bed. Flopping back, he covered his face with his hands. Roman wanted him to stay focused, but alone at night, he found this was all he had to think about.


In the midst of her conversation with the girls, Renee let her eyes drift to Jory, who quietly sat between Nia and Paige, staring absently at her cocktail, a concoction called "This Is Halloween". The Canadian interviewer was still in the clothing she wore at the show, in the red velour romper with black wedges and a black denim jacket with red and pink flowers. The waves in her hair had fallen flat a little while before, but Renee didn't care. The only thing she cared about was the glass of wine in front of her, and the sullen friend across from her.

To Jory's right, Paige chatted excitedly, her deep British voice bouncing off the walls of the Beetle House in New York, a bar themed around the work of Tim Burton. The bar was lit in purple neon, the walls white brick and adorned with Gothic decorations. People there were dressed as various characters, from Edward Scissorhands to Beetlejuice to Sweeney Todd. Without being asked or volunteering, Jory had ended up taking all the pictures Paige wanted with the people in costume. Jory would be the first to admit that the Beetle House was up Paige's alley, and if she had been in a better mood, hers, too. She thought Paige didn't look out of place in the building the way that she and the others did.

For the past fifteen months, Paige had been sitting on the sidelines with a serious neck injury. She had arrived at Raw as a surprise to most of the Superstars, but those closest to her knew she was there to see the WWE medical staff to go over some test results and gauge where she was at in her recovery. Jory knew that Paige was doing everything in her power to try and get cleared to go back into the ring, and whatever was said in the meeting gave Paige the belief that it was going to happen. She was in the mood to celebrate, she'd announced, before telling the women about the bar.

Now, at the table, she talked feverishly about her return, about her desire to bring Mandy Rose and Sonya Deville, two women she had judged and mentored on Tough Enough, with her. Jory didn't know either woman, so she had no opinion on the subject. Dressed head to toe in black, with her long thick black hair pulled back into a high ponytail, Paige smiled and laughed while she sipped on her Coco Skellington cocktail.

Renee's pink lips pursed into a narrow line as she sipped her Fleet Street Martini, her hazel eyes on Jory, who was staring down at her drink. She swirled the cup absently on the tabletop, eyes glued to the surface. Renee knew that she didn't want to be in the bar with them; Renee had forced her. She knew that Jory wanted to go back to the hotel and forget that everything had happened, to lick her wounds and cry after everything she had been through, everything she was going through, but this outing had been forced on her. Jory wasn't talking, wasn't complaining about anything with Seth, but she knew things were taking its toll. Once again, Seth's temper had been the talk of the locker room.

"You okay, Jory?" Renee asked. Mint green eyes shifted to meet Renee's. She nodded, lips puckered before her gaze went back to the drink she was still absently swirling.

"What's your deal tonight?" Paige asked, put out that Jory wasn't in a celebratory mood.

"Give her a break – she's had a bad night," Nia told her. "She started Raw getting attacked by Alexa, and then her man almost laid out her boss, and then she had the mother of all fights with him. Everyone could hear it." With a smile, Nia sipped on her Chocolate Chocolate Martini while Jory's jaw clenched. Her expression went from despondent to angry. The last thing she wanted to do was think about the fight with Seth and Baron. She was upset at both of them. Seth looking her in the eyes and dictating who she could and couldn't see had gotten under her skin a way she hadn't foreseen. The truth was that she was very angry, at both of them.

After her experience in The Authority, Jory liked to think that she wasn't completely naive and oblivious. She liked to think that Seth was in the same boat since their experiences had been somewhat similar. Jory knew that every relationship had its ups and downs, that there would be arguments and disagreements, but the downward spiral they had fallen into had caught her out of nowhere, and the truth was she didn't know how to fix things. She was getting attacked left and right, and Baron was right – it was a crap shoot about whether or not he cared enough to check in on her. Lately, she felt like Seth wasn't hearing a word she said, and it was beginning to make her feel crazy.

"What? Seth almost laid out Kurt?" Paige asked, her brown eyes wide. Renee shook her head.

"Baron." Jory shot Renee a sharp look but remained silent.

"Seth was furious," Nia replied. "I've never heard him so loud in my life. I know they like to say Dean was the lunatic of The Shield, but lately, Seth has been giving that man a run for his money." Jory sighed, a loud exhale to signal that she was annoyed with the topic. But the girls weren't about to drop the topic.

"That's a shame. You two seemed so happy the last time I saw you," Paige told her wistfully. Jory threw her drink back and took a huge sip, downing half her glass with a gulp. "I always thought you two were like a fairy tale. The prince and princess of The Authority..."

"Fairy tales don't exist." Jory's words were blunt. Renee shook her head.

"Baron attacked Seth's manhood, and Seth didn't think you stood up for him," Nia recapped. The girls were looking at Jory now.

"Is that true?" Paige asked. In response, Jory finished her drink and stood. Reaching into her wallet, she grabbed her share of the money and dropped it on the table.

"I don't want to do this. You guys have fun. I'm out."

"Jory..." Renee started, but Jory was already halfway to the door. Her plan was to hail a cab, go back to the hotel, and forget that she had lived through this day. She was done. With everyone and everything.