Disclaimer: I don't own anything WWE. I don't own Eve or Matt. I do own Heather and Jack though, as well as a few other minor OCs that will be appearing over time.

Author's Note: Hey all. :) Not too long from an update... eh. Well, kinda. But I do have an update. For the next few chapters, they will be titled as the following (I just find I should tell you this): This chapter: "Don't go looking in my eyes tonight." Next chapter: "Don't go telling me lies tonight." And then the chapter after, "Don't go promising me skies tonight." Which is part of the chorus to Hanson's "Crazy Beautiful." Think about them for a little bit, they play into the chapters... and as always, thank you very much for your reviews. I appreciate them. Enjoy!

Jack began to meander around his apartment tiredly, dropping his bag down on the floor, which contained his laptop and other important papers. He stopped by the coffee machine, turning it on and listening to it sizzle for a moment before turning toward the bathroom. "That's odd," he murmured, "I could have swore I left that shirt on the shower."

Eve looked down at the shirt in her hands. Was she holding onto the shirt that contained Matt's blood? The thought sickened her and she let it fall the few inches to the floor with a soft thud. Jack had a sharp memory and that worried her. What if he realized that someone had been in his apartment? She wasn't looking to start an argument with him. She just wanted to know the truth. However, as she lied there, she wondered if she truly did.

Jack had been her friend almost as long as Heather had. When she wasn't around, she relied on him to tell her the truth in cases of advice, or just be there when she needed to talk. He'd been there when Eve broke up with her first serious boyfriend, while Heather was away visiting her cousin in California and couldn't help in person. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shuddered. He'd sat there with her the entire night long while she sobbed into his destroyed jeans, her make-up ruined, practically a walking stereotype. Never once did he complain about doing other things with his time. No, he held her and whispered that she deserved better.

How could there even be a possibility that he was responsible for this now?

Eve choked back a sob, her heart suddenly heavy. She didn't want him to be responsible of the crime. She wanted him to tell her that it was just a paint job gone wrong on that shirt and that she was completely out of her mind for even proposing the idea. To laugh at her and pull her close, that wrinkly smile reassuring her every worry; that was all she wanted.

But that didn't happen.

"Who's there?"

Eve cursed silently, wiping away her tears. Emotions got her into trouble yet again. His feet began to come closer toward his bedroom, slowly but surely making their way in the direction of her choked sob. She wished he'd give up on finding the culprit of the sob and go back to wondering where his shirt went. At least that way, she could escape without noticing.

Jack entered the room, walking slowly around each side of the bed. There was soft thuds every so often, making her believe he was inspecting things around him.

Don't look under the bed, she prayed silently.

As if her prayers had been answered, Jack mumbled something and walked back out of the room, his feet shuffling slowly behind him. Any other time, she would have rolled her eyes and scolded him on this. He never picked up his feet when he walked. It was one of her pet peeves and it drove her insane. Sometimes, she believed he did it in spite of her.

Click.

"He's gone," she whispered thankfully, crawling away from the dust and other unidentifiable objects beside her. She stepped out from under the bed, shoving the red-covered shirt back under. Then, she dusted off her clothes and began to walk out of the room, her fear still much to present. At least now, though she could leave without him knowing she was ever there.

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

Oh no, she thought miserably. I'm screwed.

Eve turned around, facing Jack with what she believed to be an unreadable expression. He stared accusingly at her, his eyes curious and angered at the same time. "Hey, Jack. I just thought I'd stop by."

"… By going under my bed?" he accused, narrowing his eyes.

So he had known she was there…

Eve smiled timidly, her expression faltering. "How did you know?"

"I know, he's scum and he deserved it…"

The look of anger also faltered for a moment to one of amusement but it faded right back into the other face, the scary face. "Your feet were sticking out from behind the second headboard."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll never be too good at hide-and-seek, huh?"

"Eve," Jack said back, "What were you doing under my bed?"

"I didn't think you'd want me here."

"There was no one around and I got rid of the evidence…"

He laughed a little, shaking his head. "What? You know there was a reason I gave you a spare key to my place. Why wouldn't I want you here?"

"I doubt that we'll get caught anyway…"

In only a few seconds, she had made a decision. She had to know if it was him. If it wasn't, he'd only become confused. And if it was, she would ruin one of the best friendships she ever had.

"Because then you couldn't get away with your crime."

Jack's face began alarmed. "You know about that?"

Eve tried not to show her own panic as she backed up a few steps. He did it. Jack shot Matt… "Yes," she said quietly but clearly. "I found the evidence."

"Eve, look, you have to understand. I had to. He just wouldn't give up and he'll be okay… I was just teaching him a little lesson." Just a little lesson? Eve couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was this even the Jack she once knew? It surely didn't seem like it.

"How is shooting someone just teaching them a lesson?"

Jack looked perplexed. "Shooting someone? What are you talking about?"

"Matt!" she screamed, losing control. How could he even do something like that to her? "You shot Matt! I saw the shirt and I know you did it. I heard the phone call!"

Jack looked stunned. "Matt was shot?"

"Uhm, yeah. You shot him!"

Stunned became anger. It was like a leveling of emotions. "I didn't shoot him! How could you even accuse me of something like that, Eve?"

Her mind was whirling. She couldn't think straight, nor could she truly even hear anymore. It all seemed much too crazy for anyone to even process. Right before her eyes, Jack was arguing a crime he had just admitted to doing minutes before.

"I saw the shirt."

Jack laughed without emotion, something that scared her. He then held up his arm, which was covered with some kind of medical tape and gaze. "I accidentally sliced myself this morning with a box cutter when trying to open something at work. I came home earlier and got changed. I didn't shoot anyone."

"I don't believe you." The tears in her eyes showed her pain. Because she wanted to… but she couldn't.

"Eve, I didn't fucking shoot him."

Eve backed away. "Please… just let me go. I don't want to talk to you."

"Eve!" Jack yelled as she raced for the door. He didn't want to tell her the truth. He couldn't tell her the truth. Because if she knew the real truth, she'd be even more frightened. But he found there wasn't any other choice anymore. It was either that, or she'd believe Jack to be someone who attempted murder on someone else. "Eve!"

"Don't talk to me."

He raced after her. "Search his name when you get home. I dare you to. Go home and search his name and New York University. You'll see who is telling the truth."

!

Even though Heather was expecting her back at her apartment, Eve didn't go there. She walked hazily down the busy New York City streets, keeping her head down while she cried silently. Pain hurt. She knew that for a fact. Sometimes, emotional pain could hurt worse than physical pain… and this was one of those circumstances.

Jack didn't want her happy.

He wanted Matt dead.

He hadn't succeeded, but … he could have. And she would have gone on to believe Jack wanted the best for her while the man who was interested in her and wouldn't hurt her would be buried underground.

She got to Sweet and Sour only ten minutes later, ordering her first drink of many. It was about three hours later, on her eighth drink when the bartender, an older man cut her off. He narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head. "No more for you, Ma'am."

Eve sunk her head to the sticky bar. This could not be her life.

"Uhm, excuse me?"

Eve looked up to see the person Heather had been messing around with next to her. What was his name? Cody? Cory? Caden?

"Yes?" she asked.

"Uhm… I'm Colin. I'm dating your best friend. You're Eve, right?"

"Right," she said tiredly, wiping her sticky and sunken eyes. "What do you want?"

"Heather is looking for you," he said, sitting down. "She's really worried."

He went on for about five minutes about this. Eve zoned out and closed her eyes, thinking about how nice it would be to be in Matt's arms right then, him holding her tightly, kissing her on the nose. Not this guy, not Colin lecturing her about her best friend's worries.

"I have to go," Eve mumbled. "Bye."

"Hey, wait!" Colin yelled. "I'm supposed to get you home! You can't leave."

"I have to go," Eve repeated. "I need to go… find him…"

I now have a feeling that .Hopeless. Rockstar. is going to search "Matt Hardy New York University"... hahaha. ;D Sorry, no. I just like teasing her. She's a pain, but she's a cool pain in the butt. Anyway, whatcha think of the chapter? Who do you believe? And where is Eve going and who is "him"? I hope to update this again soon... Please read and review! :D