Swan in the Water
A/N: Thank you nikki1335 for the review. You've stayed so loyal to this story and I really do appreciate it. This is a rather short chapter. I originally intended for it to be longer, but I prefer the way this ends so I decided to keep it this way. I enjoyed writing this chapter, creating the scenery, and building up towards the magical (ahem) moment. I don't want to spoil anything, so please continue reading. Enjoy and review!
Whoever said money couldn't buy happiness was never invited to a Bella Twins' party. Nicole and Brianna had their loft decorated from top to bottom with as much sparkle and gold leaf the city could offer. They had flown in one of the hottest DJs from Ibiza to keep everyone enjoying themselves on the dance floor. Crystal flutes were filled with Dom Pérignon or Moët & Chandon. Over at the bar, the city's finest bartenders were offering up only the finest and rarest liquors in the world. Servers dressed in sleek tuxedoes roamed around the space offering the most delectable hors d'oeuvres. Men were dressed in Tom Ford or Hugo Boss, while women glittered in their vintage Dior and custom Jason Wu. This was a Gatsby affair for the ages.
And just like the classic novel of F. Scott Fitzgerald, one man at the party could not fully immerse himself in such hedonism until he found his Daisy.
Randy Orton is seated at the bar. He tips his scotch back and swirls the dark liquid before he slides it down his throat. The burning sensation is gone, and has now been replaced by a strange sense of comfort. He turns his head towards the elevator, but the people who step out are never who he's hoping for. Drinks continue to flow and the wealthiest residents of the city are all decked out. John and Nicole lounge at the corner as they whisper their dirty, little desires. Brianna, in her ethereal white gown, is fending off an admirer who is mistakenly trying to impress her with the size of his bank account. Randy spots his mentor and his father's right-hand man, Hunter Helmsley, with his arms secured tightly around his wife, Stephanie. Meanwhile, Cody hangs around by the bar until he spots a dark-haired beauty with olive skin and striking gray eyes. He's vowed to make her tonight's conquest.
Normally talks of bedding girls amused Randy, and he would often instigate it. But right now all he could think of and all he could hope for was one particular girl walking out of those doors and heading straight towards him. In spite of being surrounded by all his friends, Randy was feeling incredibly lonely. Picking up his drink, he taps it on the marble, earning the bartender's attention.
Claustrophobia is the fear of being enclosed in small spaces. Jesse wasn't exactly diagnosed with this phobia, but she certainly felt like she should as she anxiously anticipated for those doors to open. Randy had pulled out all the stops for her with the beautiful dress, the chauffeur, and the stretch limousine stocked up with enough alcohol to calm her nerves. She debated whether or not she should take a drink of the tequila, but set it back in the mini-fridge when she remembered the last time alcohol was involved in a party full of strangers.
The trick was to be as sober and alert as possible, and no one can take advantage of you.
Jesse's hands grip on the metal railing as her eyes survey the numbers in the elevator. Reaching the top, the metal box comes to a halt, pausing briefly in the silence before opening up to the madness.
Sparkles and satin grace the bodies of beautiful, svelte women - some of whom she recognized from the society pages of the Chicago Tribune. As she steps further into their world, a server gracefully glides to her side and offers a flute of champagne. She refuses, remembering how she talked herself out of the liquid courage on the ride to the party. Instead, she scans the room hoping to find his familiar face. Hard planes, distinct jaw, and a pair of deep-set eyes, but he is nowhere to be found. Attempting to move across the room, Jesse dodges bodies seemingly walking past her. She feels invisible amongst the women who moved in their heels effortlessly, and the men who seemed to carry themselves in a confidence she once thought only belonged to Randy. If she didn't feel so out of her element a minute ago, she certainly did now.
Her head snaps back as she hears her name. She looks around until her eyes fall upon John Cena, beckoning her to join their cozy, little group. She walks towards them; John is seated between two gorgeous, identical brunettes.
"Ladies, I'd like you to meet Jesse Sullivan," John introduces, "This is Brianna, and my girlfriend, Nicole."
Jesse is caught off guard as both girls lean in to kiss her on both cheeks. Very European, she thought to herself.
"We've heard so much about you," smiles Brianna. Of the two, she looks like an angel dressed in white silk chiffon, while the one hanging off John's arm looks devilishly sexy in a cranberry Herve Leger number.
"You're so pretty," adds Nicole, "isn't she just striking, Brie?"
Brianna nods, "Definitely," she looks at her from head to toe marvelling at how Jesse's dress hugs her body in all the right places, "And oh my god, you look gorgeous in that Elie Saab. I knew it would be perfect!"
"You picked this out?" asks Jesse. She's so overwhelmed at how these two statuesque goddesses were praising her and complimenting her. When she saw them looking so poised, she braced herself for judgment, but it never came. Instead, they were being so nice and Jesse felt pretty horrible that she had been so rash to think they would be mean to her just because she was from a different background.
"Of course we picked it out," Nicole giggles, taking the glass of bubbly to her lacquered pout. "Randy could never."
Jesse laughs lightly, "By the way, thank you for picking out my wardrobe and helping Randy out with his Christmas present."
"It was so much fun! Don't worry about it," Brianna assures, placing her hand on Jesse's arm, "We've known Randy since we were babies, and we've never seen him talk about a girl like he does about you. We know you're special to him, so we wanted to pull out all the stops."
Jesse bites her lip. She doesn't know how to respond. She hadn't realize Randy had spoken about her to his friends. And what did Nicole mean about her being special to him? She certainly couldn't have been the only one.
As if to save her from coming up with a proper response, Cody leaps over the sofa and joins their group. "Hey! Jesse!" Cody says breathlessly as he pulls her in for a hug. He looks around the room as if he's making sure the coast is clear before her rambles on about some girl. "So I've been following this girl for the last half hour, and she finally agrees to dance with me. We're doing our thing and she's grinding up on me and I'm getting really hard - sorry, ladies," he apologizes before he continues his story, "so I lean down to kiss her and I feel someone pull at my shoulder and this woman is glaring at me!"
"Turns out she has a girlfriend!"
John bursts out in hysterics, slapping Cody in the back, "You have the worst luck. I can't even make this shit up. Where's Randy? He's got to hear this."
Cody glares at John before he turns to the bar where he last saw his friend. "He was at the bar, but it looks like he's not there anymore." As his eyes scan the room further, he makes eye contact with a pair of burning, snake-like eyes that belong to a very angry woman. "Oh shit! Hide me," he steps behind the much taller John. Sensing his opportunity, John takes a step to the side and whistles as loud as he can before he raises his arms and points down at a crouching Cody. Death flashes before his eyes.
"I will fucking kill you, Cena, if she doesn't kill me first!" he cries out as he leaps over the couch and dashes across the room.
"That was mean, John," Brianna narrows her eyes.
"Nah," John smirks, "that's just how I show my affection to the boys."
The music starts to turn up, as the DJ skillfully mixes various tracks from his electronic dance playlist. "Five minutes to midnight! And the countdown is on!" He announces over the microphone. Nicole takes John's hand and leads him straight to the dance floor. Shortly after, a cute guy with a bow tie asks Brianna to dance. She casts one glance at Jesse, who assures her she'll be fine alone before she disappears into the crowd.
This was not, by any means, how she pictured the party to turn out. She could've been at home, curled up, watching Kathy Griffin make inappropriate comments at Anderson Cooper before the ball dropped in Times Square. She would be alone, but at least she knew it was her choice. There would have been no expectations, and no ensuing disappointment. Now, standing here at the corner of a crowded room of strangers Jesse has never felt more helpless and alone.
Jesse pulls out her phone from her clutch and tries calling Randy. Maybe he's still at the party, she tried to convince herself. Maybe she could still find him and maybe, at the very least, she could ring in 2014 in the company of her friend. She dials and redials but his phone is going straight to voicemail.
"Why the need to call someone else, when what you're looking for is right here in front of you?"
The voice was like silk running through a garden of thorns. Jesse's gaze drifts up from her phone to find a man with slicked back platinum hair and a smirk so vile she could feel the bile rising from her throat.
"Sorry, not interested," she says simply, stepping aside to walk around him. Both his arms plant firmly against the wall, effectively blocking her path. "Excuse me," she stated with more conviction, but the man didn't budge.
"Come on, baby, lighten up. It's New Year's Eve," he leans down, pressing his cheek to her hair. His hands settle on the curve of her waist and she immediately tenses. Jesse wants to slap him and yell at him to get his hands off her; instead, she is frozen. Memories of the night she was raped drown out the present, and it feels like she is having an out of body experience. Her eyes shoot open when she feels his brute hands graze her ass. Instinct pushes itself to the forefront of her brain, and she sends her palm flying across his face.
Clutching his hands to his cheek, he frees the space and allows Jesse to run out of his grasp. She notices the stares but ignores them as much as she could as she speeds off toward the French doors at the far end of the room. She pushes them open and steps out onto the balcony; the sudden rush of winter air pricking against her bare skin. Running towards the ledge, she holds onto the railing and looks down at the street below.
How she wished she could be there away from all this. She thought she had put the past behind her, but tonight just proved that it would always be a part of her. It was like she had the word 'victim' tattooed on her forehead, just advertised for any man who was disgusting enough to take advantage of her. Jesse's breaths were heavy and uneven; her body racked in shivers as she could feel her eyes well up with tears. Not here, she reminded herself.
The feel of cloth against her skin and the warmth that surrounded her was a welcome surprise. She looks at her shoulders, draped with a black suit jacket; a grey handkerchief tucked neatly into the pocket. She doesn't have to turn around to know whom it belonged to. The smell of his aftershave and cologne – Tom Ford Extreme found on top of his dresser the night she fell asleep in his bed. It was the perfect scent for him as he embodied the intensity, complexity, and seduction of the fragrance.
Jesse turns around to find the man of the hour. Randy, drunk and with a bottle of scotch in his hand, stands mere inches in front of her. He wraps the jacket tightly around her and pulls her close. His eyes are lidded but she can tell he's staring at her with an intensity that is all him. The men in the room might rival him for confidence, but no one can have so much resolve brewing behind their eyes.
He's standing so close that she can almost taste the alcohol from his breath. Jesse closes her eyes and settles into the comfort of his jacket. For the first time tonight, she finally feels the tranquility of being completely her self. He always had a way of making her feel at ease. He was the friend she needed in this moment; he would help her forget what had just happened inside. He would wrap his arms around her and help her quiet down her heartbeat. In this particular moment, Jesse realizes this man is her best friend.
In the background, the music gets louder and the DJ is yelling a number of different things. It's hard to hear through the panes of glass separating the two of them with the rest of the party, but they could both discern those numbers. 5…4…3…2…1!
The ball drops, the confetti falls from the ceiling, the fireworks are set off. None of these things matter. None of these things are seen or heard or felt. Nothing exists except for the moment Randy's head dips down and he claims Jesse with a soft, lingering kiss. His lips on hers is the contact needed to reignite this old flame. He places his hand on the crook of her neck; his thumb trails along her jawline as he part her lips with his tongue. Her mind is in shock, but her body is familiar with this place, this position, this body pressed up against her. She melts into his kiss, matching him stroke for stroke as his tongue flicks against hers. He pulls away slightly, tugging her bottom lip gently between his teeth. Resting his forehead on hers, his breaths are uneven and the cold air is quickly replacing the fire they've just started.
Randy takes a step back. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, before he takes a swig from the bottle. Emptying its contents, he chucks it to the side and it shatters loudly against the concrete. Her mind finally catches up to her body, and now she feels burned. He wipes the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. His eyes never leaves hers, as she stands motionless. Jesse's stare wavers as she realizes what they've just done. An overwhelming wave of guilt crashes their momentary reverie as she thinks of Roman. They just started seeing each other and she had already betrayed him. She had gone from realizing Randy was her best friend to kissing him in a matter of seconds. And it wasn't just some ordinary kiss. Try as she might, she couldn't deny the electric current that coursed through her body. That searing look couples shared in movies, the dreamy sequences in books; she had always longed for that sort of magic. That moment when you're high up in the sky and your stomach feels suspended just as the roller coaster comes crashing down – she felt that. Jesse felt it with Randy.