'Hey gorgeous boyfriend o'mine. I'm so, so drunk, and I'm sorry about that, but please don't think that's the only reason I'm saying this: I fucking love you so fucking much! You're the best. There's nothing in the world that wouldn't be better shared with you. Like this pitcher. I forget what's in it... but it's good stuff. Ooh, you hear that? They're playing No Doubt. I don't care what you say, you can keep your punk ethics, I know what I'd rather throw myself around to when I'm wasted, and it ain't fucking Rancid or whatever... Joyless straight-edge fucks.
Uh-oh, there I go dissing stuff you like again. This was meant to be a make-up call. OK... Renee's gonna get serious now; you are the kindest, coolest, sexiest man on the planet. Anyway, I wanna hit the dancefloor by the time the second chorus drops, so... au revoir. J'espère que je t'aime de toute ma vie. I hope I got that right. Bye.'
Sami had listened to the answer phone message every day since he received it. It was a succinct reminder of why he loved this woman, why he would be a fool to let her go. Her adorable drunken rambling, her brazen mockery of his favourite bands, her sweet, heartfelt sincerity whenever she discussed her feelings for him; he wouldn't change any of it for the world. And yes, for all she lamented the rustiness of her French, she had got her parting words right, more or less; 'I hope I love you all my life.'
He hoped that too, but these days it was a hope rather than a belief. He could try and be objective about it all he liked; listing her positive qualities and noting how they outnumbered those of every other woman he'd met, but the human heart didn't deal in cold, hard facts. Facts couldn't fill in the gaping void he felt with her gone so frequently, they couldn't bridge the chasm between them that had opened as a natural consequence of living largely separate lives. And they couldn't stop him staring at the pretty little thing sat beside him on the sofa, listening in wonder as he gave her a guided tour through his favourite musical genre, and one of the cornerstones of his very being.
Thanks to Australia-gate, Sami and Renee had not slept together for several weeks, and even when they had, the knowledge that days on end of not even being able to kiss or cuddle would soon follow meant it always carried an undertone of disappointment and frustration. Sami liked to think of himself as being above acting on primal urges, but boy was that being put to the test with JoJo looking like she did tonight. She'd proven him wrong; she was no kid, she was all woman.
"So this is how you enjoy punk, is it? Sitting still, thinking deeply and stroking your beard? Not very wild and chaotic, is it?" JoJo questioned over the blaring music. His attempts to convert her to the cause were not faring too well so far. It had been much easier with Renee, whose music taste already had a considerable degree of overlap with his own.
"I guess this is where I teach you how to pogo," Sami replied, getting to his feet with a mischievous smirk and offering his hand. This was going to be fun.
"I'm fairly sure I don't need step-by-step instructions on how to jump in place, Sami," she fired back.
"There's more to it than that..." Sami insisted.
"...much like the music itself; it sounds simple, but there's an art to it, and a science too."
JoJo eyed him with a look of adorable confusion. Those feelings were beginning to stir again; he scrabbled around in his head for images of Renee to suppress them with.
"So, what do I need to do?" JoJo asked.
"Imagine... imagine you're in a straightjacket, OK?" Sami began, assuming the necessary position as he described it.
"Your arms are stuck by your sides, your legs are locked together, and the only way you can move is to jump. You're not trying to escape the asylum, you just wanna catch a brief glimpse of the world on the other side of the fence. So you jump up and down in the same spot and crane you neck upwards like so."
Sami began leaping up and down. There were the giggles; those glorious, charming, sexy giggles. His resolve was cracking. 'Renee. Think about Renee.' he told himself. Renee's laugh was lovely too. But they hadn't had much to laugh about recently. By contrast, his time with JoJo was wall-to-wall fun. They could have even more fun if he cast off his baggage and embraced these urges... he just called Renee 'baggage.' He was losing the fight.
"N-now you try," he blustered, remembering himself. Then he realised he'd sealed his own fate; he'd just asked the woman he was desperately fighting the urge to ravage to bounce up and down in front of him in a mini-dress.
Visions and memories of Renee, faded and tarnished as they were, couldn't compare to this sight. His mind became one-track; he'd ached for too long, he needed some fun, some fulfilment, now before he exploded.
She wasn't suspecting a thing, happily pogo-ing away to herself, and it was only the logistical problems of kissing her while she was in continuous motion that stopped him doing it there and then, giving him chance to put the brakes on and let his conscience seize control once again. But nearly doing it was just as bad as actually doing it in his mind. The writing was on the wall. He knew what he must do.
He snatched the remote from the armchair and silenced the music with a flick of his wrist. JoJo ceased pogo-ing and looked at him in confusion and disappointment.
"What's up?" she asked, bemused.
"I nearly kissed you," he sighed, the admission cutting through him like a knife, making him feel a full foot smaller.
"What? When?" JoJo continued to question, sounding no less baffled.
"Just a second ago. Look, I really... oh God, this is fucked up... I want you, alright. You're an awesome, smokin' hot girl and I can't deny it any longer," Sami conceded, his head bowed.
"But... Renee..." JoJo began, too shocked to articulate the obvious issue with this revelation.
"I know. I'm such a fucking asshole. I know you're not that type of girl and I'm sorry..." Sami continued in a tone of pure self-disgust.
"...Look, I need to do some thinking and make some pretty big decisions, and while I do that it's best we stay out of each other's way. Do you understand?"
JoJo nodded in solemn agreement, grabbed her handbag and made her way to the door. Then, as she stood on the threshold, she turned back to him, a look of nervous determination on her face, as if she'd been psyching herself up for something.
"I probably shouldn't say this, but... just so everything's clear... I want you too," she breathed with a guilty smile.
The shiver of arousal, excitement and triumph that shot through Sami at those words told him all he needed to know. He knew no worse a liar than himself; he had way too many moral hang-ups to keep any kind of charade going. He had to be straight with Renee and he had to do it right away, else in two days' time she'd be coming home expecting quite the opposite of what he would have to hit her with. This was going to be the worst phonecall of his life.
"That one's Sami; look at him, he's about as close to a hipster as a monkey can get," Renee asserted amusedly, flicking through the photos on her camera. She and Natalya had just returned to the latter's rental car after a delightful morning spent at Sydney's Taronga Zoo; technically a filming assignment for the DVD but essentially a chance to escape the rough-and-tumble of the tour and fawn over a litany of insanely cute creatures for a few hours.
These snatched moments of respite, together with the ever-growing bond between her and Dean and the rediscovery of her rapport with the likes of Natalya and Paige, had ensured she had survived the ten-day slog. Nonetheless, she still felt like she would be latching onto Sami like a limpet the second she touched down in Florida.
All the arguments and frustration were irrelevant now; if she could still miss him as profusely as this, if she still went to bed every night dreaming of him, then there was absolutely no way she was about to give up on what they had. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder. This trip might have taught Renee that she had more friends than she realised, but it had also taught her that none of them could provide her with the feeling of security and belonging that Sami did.
"This one's definitely Tyson. Still fast asleep at 11.30 and paying me no attention whatsoever," Renee's fellow Canadian quipped wryly, sparking a shared giggle between the two women.
As the laughter subsided, Renee became aware of the muffled blaring of music from her handbag. She rummaged hastily for her phone. Probably the tour manager tearing what little remained of his hair out over the fact she and Nattie hadn't yet reported to the local radio station a few blocks away, where they were scheduled for an interview.
"We're on our way, for fuck's sake!" Renee groaned.
"You know, you're the only pasty blonde girl I've ever met with a gangsta rap ringtone," Natalya mused.
"A Tribe Called Quest isn't gangsta rap..." Renee corrected with a smirk.
"...I love you, Nattie, but you're incurably square."
As Renee inspected the device, the caller ID provided her with a pleasant surprise.
"Oh, it's the hipster monkey himself!" she grinned.
"...g'day, sport. Having a bonzer arvo?"
"Renee..." Sami's pained, shaken tone instantly told Renee that this was not the time to try out her Australian slang. He sounded almost traumatised.
"Everything OK, honey?" she queried pensively, as she saw Natalya's expression change to one of concern and intrigue beside her.
"I didn't want to have this talk over the phone, but I can't wait any longer... it... it needs to be said. You need to know."
"Need to know what?" Renee questioned, her voice beginning to shake, that sickly feeling beginning to rise in her stomach. Surely it couldn't be what it sounded like?
"Let me make this clear. You've done nothing wrong. You're sweet, beautiful, amazing and lord knows that in another life, without all this time apart and all the bullshit that comes with it we could've really had something, but... I just can't take this anymore. I can't share you with the road and I can't expect you to give it up for me, I certainly wouldn't if the roles were reversed. You shouldn't be made to feel bad for living your dream, you deserve someone who can deal with it, but try as I might, that's... that's not me."
"What do you mean?" Renee continued to question, despite the answer becoming increasingly obvious, her voice heightened and the tears preparing to descend as her universe rocked on its pivot.
"We've had this talk a million times, you could get the call tomorrow saying you're coming up to Raw and then it won't be an issue. That was your main incentive to keep working at it not too long ago. What happened to me being your muse?"
"It's not enough anymore, babe, I'm sorry. I can't keep waiting for everything to resolve itself. I may be waiting forever. I have... needs that I can't ignore, not to mention that if I'm going to get anywhere career-wise I could do without all this drama raging on constantly. I know none of that is your fault, if there was a way of doing this that didn't hurt you I'd do it, but we both know that's not possible. I just wish I'd looked ahead and seen it would end up like this. I guess I just liked to think I was stronger than that, and I wanted to be with you so, so much..."
"...And now you don't," Renee finished bluntly.
"You know it's not that simple, I..." Sami began to protest. All of a sudden the dominoes began to tumble in Renee's mind. She didn't want to listen to this a moment longer.
"It is that simple! If you can't do this anymore, if I'm not worth all the aggravation, then you don't want me. Don't you dare try and tell me it's not what's going on, you know I've been here before. I thought you'd be different; you know this business and the strains it puts on relationships, and you really... you just got me... I was just thinking how great it would be to come back home to you, to put this last month behind us. But I guess the damage was already done. Thank fuck I didn't end up selling my place in New York, eh?"
"You're a wonderful woman, Renee. I have no doubt you'll find someone who can give you everything you deserve..." more trite sentiments, more empty words. More dominoes falling, more sparks raining down and igniting the gunpowder trails just waiting to go off inside Renee's head. It was Los Angeles 2013 all over again. She was back in that hotel room with Aaron telling her in no uncertain terms that the wedding was off. At least this time she wouldn't have an engagement ring to dispose of.
"I don't want 'someone', I want you! Every scar, every hang-up, every insecurity I'd been carrying since Aaron left, you made them all go away. I thought; 'maybe there's hope for me after all.' You saved me, Sami. I can't do this without you. Please, please don't leave me," it began as a rant and ended as a frantic plea. She wanted to rip his head off for springing this on her from the safe distance of thousands of miles of ocean away, but at the end of the day, she couldn't afford to blow her chance of a last-minute rescue. She needed him. Literally needed him, more than she'd ever needed anyone.
"I've waited long enough. I know this is the only way, I know it's for the best. It's breaking my heart too, I can assure you. I hate myself and maybe I always will."
"Please, Sami, no..."
"Goodbye, Renee."