So I found out I have fan boys. And they are second and third generation, both of them, which I found rather impressive. And it would definitely piss Randy and John off if I were to manage them.
Since Dave was injured, he could no longer hold my contract, and it was now up in the air. Vince was scrambling for a new storyline like a chicken with its head cut off. It was bad, trust me.
But I was able to give him some ideas involving the two young superstars. Cody may be younger than me, but Ted was the same age. It's just a matter of experience.
So, Vince thought I should take them under my wing—like I could actually show them how to wrestle—and I would have to share a hotel room with them. Be a 24/7 trainer. Or at least that's the excuse he told Randy and John.
They were bullshit, if you could have guessed it. But I—I was in heaven. I don't care if they walk into the bathroom when I change or take a shower. I don't care if they share a bed with me. I don't even care if they smack my ass when I walk by. I was away from Randy and John.
Of course, I had to at least call Randy. I mean, I am married to him. But I just couldn't stomach being near him for very long.
Communication is vital in a relationship, I know. But if you talk and they don't listen, does that mean you're doomed? If worse comes to worst…I guess divorce papers will be the final straw.
I mulled all this over in the shower. Probably the best place for me to be right now: in Cody and Ted's hotel room. They told me they would not walk in on me, but they could have crossed their fingers behind their back.
I was in the middle of washing my hair when I heard the door slowly creak open. I let the water run the shampoo out of my hair before sweeping aside the curtain. Cody and Ted were leaning against the sink.
"Can I help you?" I asked, trying my hardest not to roll my eyes.
"Do you want to go clubbing with us?" Ted inquired.
"No."
"Why not?" Cody seemed to be pouting. He was trying to be cute, but it wasn't working.
"Randy and John will probably be there. More than likely getting drunk. Drunken fights are worse when they're sober. Trust me."
"We'll protect you from them. Besides, you'll be dancing with us in VIP."
"Will you guys get out so I can finish my shower if I agree?"
"We were thinking of jumping in with you," Cody teased, lifting up his shirt.
I sighed, sarcastically, "Fine, but just this once…"
Ted and Cody looked at each other then got to take their shirts off.
"I was kidding! Stop!"
Just like John and Randy, they wouldn't listen. Both had boxers on when I shut the water off and groped for a towel. When they went in one side, I went out the other. Wrapping a towel around me, I ran out of the bathroom before they could grab me. I was able to throw on a robe before they tackled me to the bed.
I felt ready to cry. Déjà vu is a terrible thing sometimes.
"How old are you guys? Three?" I asked, clutching my robe to me.
"We're just trying to make you feel better. We heard about John and Rand fighting for you, and all the shit they put you through. We feel bad," Ted explained, hugging me to the bed.
"Aw, thanks Teddy Bear. You too Codes."
So yeah, we ended up going to the club. And yes, they were there.
You have no idea how scared I was. They were in opposite sides of the club, with at least fifteen bottles between them. They were glaring at each other, but eventually their eyes rested on me. Neither of them made a move, but I couldn't tell if that was a blessing or something terrible.
Cody and Ted kept protective arms around my waist. I actually felt safe between them.
"Come on, we'll just do a little dancing then if you still want to leave, we'll take you back."
I nodded with a sigh. We were let into VIP and just walked to the dance floor. It took me a little while to get into a good mood to dance. Cody danced behind me, while Ted bounced in front of me. Eventually I let both Cody's hands and the music thumping through the speakers wash over me. I felt so much better. I was starting to get thirsty, but I didn't want to leave my fan boys. They kept my mind off a lot of things, and my thirst was one of them.
Until someone made their way over to us. He drunkenly staggered over, fire burning in his eyes.
"What do you think you're doing with her?" Randy asked, taking my arm and pulling me. Ted slapped his arm away and stood in between us. That was when the brawl started. John pummeled Randy into the ground while Legacy and I watched. Horror-stricken. The dancers immediately backed away from the brawling drunks, as did I.
Tears formed in my eyes as I watched them rip shirts off and shred skin.
I think something snapped.
I think I punted Randy in the head.
I think I bashed a beer bottle over John's head.
I think I was taken out with a chair.
I think…wait? Déjà vu. Why isn't John wearing his "Hustle, Loyalty, Respect" shirt? Even better question: why does Randy have hair?
I found myself to be lying on a couch in a locker room. Randy and John were looking over me, concerned. As I said, John wasn't wearing his usual attire, and Randy had spiky long hair.
When they saw me move, they breathed a sigh of relief. I almost screamed.
"Wha-what are-? What's happening?" I asked, backing away from them.
"You were knocked out by a chair in your match against Dawn."
"What are you talking about? We were in a—." This wasn't right at all. When I finally got to looking around, we were in a SmackDown locker room, and I was lying on a couch. I was confused to hell and back. I took Randy's face in my hands, probably scaring him with my harried look. "Tell me; am I married to you?"
His lips parted in a smirk, "Do you want to be, Evee?"
I pushed him away and took John's face this time, "Have we ever gone out?"
"All the time; with Rand, Torrie, Joy. Do you mean on a date?"
This was way weird. I must have taken a big hit to the head. I lay back down covering my eyes. I must've died and gone to hell. And the most ridiculous explanation I could think of is that of traveling back in time.
Which, quite frankly, didn't seem so ridiculous anymore. Unless I'm living in one of my fantasies.
John took my hand and patted it gently. "Well, Rand; I think our baby has completely lost it."
"Yeah, man. Out of her mind."
"I'll give you out of your mind!" I jumped on John and knocked him backwards, catching him off guard. He flipped me over him and I rolled out of his way. Randy grabbed me and tossed me to the couch with him lying on top of me to keep me down. So what do I do?
I grabbed his ass.
"Hey, later Evee! Not with John here," he teased.
"Why? John and you could take me at the same time." Which isn't so far as a few years ago. Not much of a change.
John started laughing and eventually Randy added his own voice in.
"It happens. You're both horny one day and force it on me."
"And where did you get this insight?" John asked still with a laugh.
"What can I say; I can see into the future."
Randy finally got off me to pull me into his lap. He took a deep breath before breathing out, "CRAZY!"
I smacked him in the chest. He feigned hurt.
"Oh really? Then who do you marry?" John said, playing along with me. If only he knew.
"I was supposed to marry you, but Randy came in and took me away. Then you guys fight and I end up divorcing Randy and leaving the both of you. So, no one's happy with that. If anything we should just be lovers, all three of us for each other, instead of getting married. Well, we could be unofficially married anyways."
John and Randy looked at me weird. I sighed, knowing they didn't get it. At least I could have a second try with them, for however long.
"We get married, Evee?" Randy inquired, wonder etched into his face.
"Why are you guys taking it seriously? I made it up," I said, trying to lighten up this unbelievable mood. If I could have a second chance, I'd say no to John asking me out and just stay friends. Perhaps the three of us would be happier if we were lovers.
"Yep, crazy," John said, before leaving the locker room. I realized I needed to change. Randy still sat dazed at my 'prediction'. I kissed his cheek softly before changing into some clothes for our trip back to…where ever the hell we were going.
