Memphis dashed through the airport, purse and carryon luggage in hand. She had already heard the last call for her flight and that had been at least three minutes before when she had been pulling up her jeans in the bathroom stall. She was really starting to regret all that coffee she had just ingested but there was no time for regrets. In fact, there was little time for anything. She had a plane to catch from Kansas City that was Phoenix bound. She knew if she missed that flight, any hope of a RAW debut would be flushed down the toilet.
"Memphis Kramer," she practically tossed her ticket at the gate attendant. "Oh my God, please tell me they haven't shut the door yet. I cannot miss this flight!"
"You made it by the skin of your teeth," the woman rudely answered without even looking at her.
Used to less than polite behavior, Memphis took it with a shrug and raced onto the waiting plane. It was just an hour or so before sunset and to her surprise, the WWE had sprung for a business class seat. Not that she was complaining. Coach could get a little uncomfortable at times. At least she could look forward to a few hours of rest and relaxation on the flight.
"Welcome aboard American Airlines flight 631," a much friendlier flight attendant greeted her. "May I see your ticket, please? Great, 4B, right this way, ma'am…"
Memphis smiled, putting her baggage overhead as she settled into her seat and fastened the belt. The doors shut as she was the last passenger let on board. The seat next to her was empty and the flight did not appear to be full. Getting settled in, she closed her eyes.
"Well, well, well, what the hell is this? What do we have here?"
Memphis sucked in a breath. Her eyes were still closed and she was afraid to open them. She didn't have to. She'd know that sinister voice anywhere and she could feel those beady eyes boring a hole through her. Finally giving in and opening her eyes, she saw the tall, lean, and tattooed frame of the Viper looming over her.
"What are you doing?" she looked up at him. "Why are you bothering me? The plane is about to take off, you're supposed to be in your seat."
"Then move those claudhoppers you call feet," he smirked as he crudely stepped over and plopped down in the seat by the window.
Memphis' eyes grew wide.
"Oh no. You…this…are you…please tell me this is not your seat."
He fastened his belt.
"This is my seat and this is your lucky day."
She groaned out loud as the huge metal bird began to taxi down the runway. It was absolutely not her lucky day. Suddenly Memphis felt on edge and it had nothing to do with the takeoff. The plane propelled smoothly into the air as she stared into the aisle. It was going to be a long few hours seated next to him in such a confined space and she had no idea how she was going to pull it off.
"Can I have some water, please?" she croaked as the stewardess who had shown her to her seat walked by.
She was soon given a bottle of sparkling mineral water. Memphis popped the top and gulped it, the majority of the liquid ran down her chin and onto her shirt.
"Thirsty or nervous?" he eyed her.
"Listen, we're going to be on this plane, unfortunately, for quite a minute. I'm not happy about the seating arrangements any more than you are but we're stuck and we're going to have to deal with it so we may as well be adults about it."
"Okay," he shrugged.
"Thank you," she muttered, reclining the seat.
"Forgive me for just wanting to…clear the air, so to speak about the tension of our last encounter."
She knew he was being facetious.
"You mean, when you yelled at me and left your possible Baby Mama sobbing hysterically in the arena Green Room?"
Randy chuckled, seeming quite satisfied with himself.
"Oh yeah. That."
Memphis anxiously tapped her fingers against the arm rest. She knew it was probably wise to hold her tongue but it was becoming more and more difficult.
"You know, I probably shouldn't say anything…"
"Then don't."
"…But I will," she shot him a look of pure disdain. "I just want to say that what you did that night was really awful and rude and so uneccesary. That girl is pregnant and scared and all alone…"
"Not my fault."
"Actually it is…or at least it could be."
"Exactly, could be. She doesn't even know who her kid's father is. How trashy is that? I got into her panties exactly one hour after I met her."
"So?"
"So she's a whore."
"That's not fair and what a double standard by the way. If she's such a whore then what does that make you? It takes two to tango, you know."
"True but apparently I wasn't her only dance partner, if you know what I mean. Big surprise, right?"
"She made a mistake that she is terribly ashamed of but at least she's being honest about it. That must be hard so hard for her."
Randy laughed out loud.
"What the hell are you now, her therapist? Her BFF? Get out of here. In three months we'll run the DNA. If the kid is mine, I'll give her a reasonable amount of money each month for child support. I mean, if she thinks she's gonna sit on her ass in a mansion and live high off the hog off my money, that bitch has another thing coming. But hopefully it won't even come to that. Hopefully that kid won't be mine and we can forget all this ever happened."
"Until the next time?"
"What's that supposed to mean? What is your deal?"
"It's really none of my business but I was the one thrown in the middle of it all. I just think you're handling this all wrong. If this baby turns out not to be yours then yeah you've dodged a huge bullet but I would hope that it would teach you a lesson."
"And what lesson is that?"
"Um, let's see…not to be a jackass and shit all over people whenever you feel like it. Oh and how about wrapping it up or better yet, not feeling the need to sleep with every groupie that shows you a little bit of interest?"
If Randy Orton smiled, it would have been a smile but everyone knew that the Legend Killer didn't smile. He smirked. So looking Memphis square in the eye, he gave her an evil and arrogant smirk.
"I see. I get what all this is about."
"What are you talking about?" she naively took the bait.
"I've got you all figured out."
"I seriously doubt that."
"Oh yeah and it was pretty easy. You're a rebel always standing up against the establishment, always making your own way, doing things different. You strike me as the type with daddy issues so your whole so called love of wrestling probably came from some warped attempt in your childhood to get him to pay attention to you. 'I'll watch wrestling with my Daddy so he'll spend time with me'. Anyway, you decide you're gonna do this but the stubborn rebel in you won't let you valet or even wrestle. No, you have to stand out, make a statement, be different. So you decided to be a referee, traveling all over the country trying to be a bigshot when really everybody is just sitting back laughing at your ass behind your back. Vince signs you not because you have any talent but because he's always looking for the next greatest novelty or big gimmick, and trust me sweetheart, that's all your are. Now you're in the big leagues and you're pouting and pissed off at the world because no one has given you your big break. And now you want to take it out on me and get in my business and get your granny panties in a bunch and pass judgment because your life sucks. I get it. Hell, I even understand it."
Memphis was horrified. She knew he was a jerk but it was more than that. He was beyond menacing. He was ruthless and relentless and she'd had enough.
"You are impossible, you know that?" she shot back. "First of all you don't know me. Let's get that straight. You don't know shit about my life and you never will so how dare you sit here and make assumptions and your rude ass attempts at jokes. You are arrogant and smug and crude and mean and I don't like you."
"Yeah you do. You might try to convince yourself that you don't but you do," he leaned in a little closer. "You're a little fish drowning in a big pond, nobody likes you and you're scared and alone. And you're starstruck. When is the last time you got laid? When is the last time you had a man, considering you even like men?"
"Excuse me?"
"Look, we land at the airport and everybody is going straight to the hotel to check in. Why don't you meet me up in my room?"
"You have got to be joking…"
The look on his face told her he wasn't.
"We can hook up and for one night only I'll make you forget that you are just a never was who has already used up about seven and a half of your 15 minutes of fame."
"You are revolting," Memphis shook her head.
Randy reached over and touched her knee.
"Or we could go right in that bathroom over there right now."
Memphis looked him right in those steely blue eyes.
"Let's get one thing straight. I am not attracted to you. I do not want to sleep with you. In fact, I would not have sex with you if you were the last man on this planet. You have been nothing but a jerk to me since I've been here and I have done nothing to deserve it. You have a serious problem, one that really needs fixing. Maybe everyone else is scared of you because you're one of the top wrestlers in the company or because of what your last name is but I'm not. You may get away with terrorizing everyone else backstage but I am not gonna take your crap anymore. You bully all the guys and you sleep with all the girls until they are all used up and you want nothing more to do with them. Well that's not me. And 15 minutes of fame or not, I'll be damned if I spend any of it letting you control or affect me and I sure as hell won't spend it with you in your bed or in an airplane bathroom stall."
With that, she angrily unbuckled her seatbelt and stood.
"Is everything alright, ma'am?" the flight attendant rushed over.
"No, as a matter of fact it's not," Memphis replied in a huff. "I would really like to change my seat."
The attendant looked around.
"Miss, I'm afraid that won't be possible. All the first class seats are taken."
"I don't care about class. I will gladly sit in coach, hell I'd sit on the wing if I have to. In fact, put me at the back of the plane if it means I don't have to spend another second next to this moron."
"There are some seats available in coach…" she craned her neck.
"Excellent," Memphis opened the overhead and pulled down her bag.
Her eyes met Randy's one last time before she stormed off. There was something about her that he absolutely could not stand. First of all, she had the nerve to turn him down. No woman ever turned down the chance to go to bed with Randy Orton, in fact, most practically threw themselves at him. And in addition to Memphis being a nuisance and having a big mouth, she was someone who obviously thought too much of herself. People like that, women like that needed to be taken down a peg or two. Memphis Kramer was a problem and Randy had just the solution for that problem. He was Randy Orton and like it or not, he was the undisputed leader of the WWE locker room. The last thing he would stand for was some loud mouthed broad coming in and trying to take over. He could see dealing with Memphis was going to be a battle but this was one war he knew he couldn't lose. He was biding his time for the perfect opportunity and when it came, he was going to make Memphis pay.
