"MORGAN. For the thousandth time, if you're going to hit someone in a match, NO closed fists".
Regal was right this time… but I was stubborn, I don't apologise. He had offered to watch me train before RAW, and although a month since Wade and I had that late night rendezvous, I still had a lot of pent up anger.
Which may have resulted in me punching William square in the nose.
I watched as he iced the damage, as I sat on the ring apron with my arms crossed, slightly remorseful.
"I SWEAR I was practicing my fist pumping, Regal, honest!" I joked – although my voice was dripping in sarcasm. He detected it.
"Well" He said, removing the ice pack from his face "You're a lot stronger now, I'll give you that… maybe you can put that uh fight towards something…. Like in the title picture?"
The title picture? Hmm. I hadn't put much thought into it, I'd been preoccupied. ALSO - if anyone knows of a way you tell your mentor you can't concentrate is because you are probably sexually fustrated - LET ME KNOW.
"No... I hadn't thought of it, I've been... busy...
"Busy? IS that what you call it. I'm not expert, but...maybe you should seek help for your anger issues… "
Anger issues? Really? He didn't know the half of it. I was in the middle of a nervous breakdown – on camera, Wade was sweet as pie, but as soon as we were backstage, NOTHING. This was the worst working relationship ever behind closed doors. Hell, I'd even scored him a title match for later, and still no thank you. All because of my shitty attitude.
"oh… speak of the devil…."
I turned and jumped of the ring apron, to see Daniel Bryan (HAAA Regal – I finally get that joke: He was talking about anger issues, and this was the definition of anger issues) walking round the ring post looking slightly confused and concerned.
"Regal… did… she-?"
He was clearly piecing together his own story, and it didn't look good in my favor…. Oh joy, I rolled my eyes a little.
"you know Morgan… I have learnt that violence is not the answer. Dr Shelby-"
"DR SHELBY MY ASS" This guy drove me crazy. Was I beating people up on a regular basis? No… NOT YET.
"See William – clear anger issues…. Maybe Barrett was right?"
WHOA what?! "What do you mean Barrett was right? What's he said?"
Daniel and Regal exchanged some looks, and it just riled me up even more.
"WHAT has he said?"
Regal rolled his eyes a little... "Well... there's trouble in paradise here I see. And after 6 weeks? A record..."
"SERIOUSLY. NOT HELPING. BOTH OF YOU."
Ok, maybe I had a slight anger problem, but it was justified. I don't deserve to have shit spread around the locker room, and someone had the decency to tell me. From the man I'd respected, and a guy I... sort of respected. Finally, Regal - clearly seeing me struggle to keep it together - cleared his throat.
"Well… something about questioning your… mental stability…."
"My mental stability?!"
"Well…" Regal continued, struggling to keep me calm and remain straight laced like his usual self "in his defense, he said maybe you have underlying drink issues…."
"WHAT?"
I was so angry, and yet hurt. What the fuck was going on? This couldn't just be because I'd given him the cold shoulder. This was personal.
"I hope... you don't BELIEVE any of this do you?"
The two exchanged looks, and surprisingly Daniel was the first to speak, almost looking almost... concerned.
"Morgan..." He moved to stand next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder, while clearly the drama was too much for Regal, muttering something about talking to Wade.
"Morgan... I don't know what his problem is but if it makes it any better, me and Kane don't believe a word of it.."
"Huh... that makes up for everything" I barked back.
"WELL it should. Wade Barrett, he's... bad news. He's just trying to say something to hurt your reputation..."
"LOOK, Bryan: I know you're trying to help, but I should know better. I'm not having some... pathetic excuse of a man spread lies about me!"
I stood up, panting slightly with anger... and sometimes, we act in anger. I knew I had to sort this mess out, and show I wasn't one to fuck with. So I let my instincts kick in, and I marched back up the ramp.
"MORGAN! NO... c-COME BACK!"
I should have said BYE to say the least, but hell. My blood was boiling, I couldn't just sit around and make Daniel angry too... So what do I do now? I needed to find out who else was on my side. Barrett- Bad news? This was another Orton…. God. Men.
I carried on passing backstage, my destination still unknown. But I didn't want to talk to some people. Hell, I even caught Layla, who was standing near, flirting with yet another man…
"MORGAN! HEY! Are you- Morgan?"
I just kept walking. Sorry, Lay. Not in the mood. I wish I had my cell on me, I could have texted Punk, asked him to fucking get me out of here and crawl to Heyman. It would be so fucking easy. It would be like a 3 man power trip.
But I had class; I wasn't taking the easy way out this time.
After what felt like forever, I found someone that could potentially be an ally, in deep conversation with an official -
"Sheamus. A word?"
He saw, me and almost read my mind – he knew what was up. He excused himself from his conversation, and came over, putting a hand on each shoulder as I struggled to stay composed.
"I'm guessing you know why I'm pissed—"
"Barrett-"
"NO. I thought you'd have the decency to tell me shit was going on behind my back."
He looked almost exasperated at the thought of me being angry at him, at everyone, gripping my shoulders tighter again to calm me down.
"look… Morg… I honestly didn't want to cause any harm to ye. Honest to God – I FIRST HAND ain't heard the words come out of his mouth. I just thought it was all a pack of lies!"
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"What else can I do? The guy hates me. And if it's any consolation, I only heard a few days ago?"
I let out a big sigh. Who knew today was going to be so emotionally draining? And RAW hadn't even started. Sheamus lifted my chin a little, trying to keep a reassuring eye contact going.
"Morgan…. Is he treating you ok?"
"HA…."
"I'm serious!"
I gulped a little, I didn't want to admit the guy was using me for my managerial expertise or whatever – hell, that's what it felt like.
"I know what you're going to bloody say: 'OH, trouble in paradise? Stupid you!'—"
"OI, I am not going to say that. I've got your back – you know it!"
"well…."
How could I put this? I was living a lie, Sheamus. I'd failed as a manger in record time, my client doesn't respect me, and was spreading lies like wildfire.
But I had to tell someone, and Sheamus could be my confidant….
I opened my mouth to speak, but whilst looking up, my mood switched again.
"Huh…. Looks like I can't TALK now…."
"what do you-"
"SHEAMUS! Talking to my bird again…"
Now Sheamus understood what I meant. He heard the sound of Wade behind him, rolled his eyes a little and gritted his teeth.
"Right I'll go…. Call me later…."
He left, struggling to not turn around to face Wade and put up a fight, brushing past him as he left. Wade laughed it off a little, still refusing to make eye contact with me.
"Charming" Wade smirked. "Right, see you by the curtain later. Title shot tonight, don't fuck it up, look nice…"
He tried to wave me off, and turned to leave to walk back to his locker room. But I couldn't take it anymore. I had to stand up for myself. I'd let Orton walk all over me, I wasn't having a repeat.
"HEY!"
That had taken him by surprise, as I watched him stop in his tracks, hands on his hips, STILL refusing to make eye contact with me or even turn around.
"I turn my back and you throw me out on the line?! I'm mentally unstable? WHAT THE HELL!"
That stopped Wade and got a reaction – a major one at that- as he marched back to me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into his locker room, slamming the door tight behind him. But that didn't stop me: He sat, buried his head in his hands, and I continued my tirade.
"Look…. I am SICK and tired of this. It's been over 3 weeks. You can NOT carry on not talking to me. How the fuck is this supposed to work out huh?!"
"Well maybe" Wade barked back, standing up to me and towering over me in the process. "Just maybe it has something to do with you shooting me down. I think I'm bloody allowed to be a little bit angry!"
"There's ANGRY… and then there's fucking psycho!" I shouted back, trying to keep up with the tone of his voice. "Are you trying to get me fired? You're sick, twisted little lies—"
"I told ONE, maybe two people. Now I-"
"NO. Real talk – you told two people? Well they tell two people, and they tell two people, and so on… so congratulations-"
We stood there, breathless with anger, and I just wanted to hurt him. He turned away from me a little, and suddenly, the tables turned.
Wade whipped his head round to me again, his hands on his hips, as I felt my eyes well up. Don't cry, Morgan, you already look weak, I thought.
"What? You got something to say?" I barked back to break the silence.
"yeah…. I do…." He spat back.
Sharply, he grabbed the back of my head with one hand, and I didn't even twitch. Did that surprise him? Did he want to hit me? It all changed in a split second…
He pulled me in close, and our lips meet for a harsh kiss. So much tension had been built up for so long, and now it felt like it was exploding. Our hands starting to claw at each other, as he threw me on to the couch and pinned my arms above my head. I let out a little moan almost unwillingly, as he slipped his tongue into my mouth so possessively, and I wrapped me legs around his waist – I wanted this so bad….
And then it stopped.
He let go of me without hesitation, and grabbed his water from his bag on the opposite side of the room, a little breathless. I watched and sat up on the couch, as he knocked back half the bottle, pouring some of the contents on his head. The whole time, there was no eye contact.
"Right…." Wade finally spoke, hesitating over whether to look at me or not.
"Wade, what-"
"I have a match…. Don't bother coming with me, your services aren't required".
And with that said, he left, slamming the door behind him. For the match I got him. For the Intercontinental Championship with Kofi Kingston. You're welcome.
You chewed me up and spit me out
Like I was poison in your mouth
I had just been mindfucked. Normally, I would have just kicked up a storm, and got out with him, leading to a victory AS PER USUAL. But tonight? Is it bad that part of me wanted him to lose?
I couldn't even bare to watch, but I heard the reactions all around me. I'd sat in corner of the empty hall way, on top of a crate, my hood up, texting.
U sure ur OK Morg?
Layla was still showing concern from me ignoring her earlier, and she'd clearly noticed that I wasn't out to the ring with Wade. Culminating with the fact that Zack Ryder (who's slow anyway) asked if I wanted to watch RAW with everyone in the back, and I declined.
What? I wanted to be alone.
Yeah, I'm fine. Needed to be alone
You and Wade had a fight? Or did he fire u?
Layla jeeez…. You're not Sherlock Holmes, stop dishing for dirt.
No, just what we decided. No big.
U need a night out.
Clearly Layla knew something was wrong, and her only solution was never the best one – go out, get drunk and hope it goes away. But as of right now, it looked so appealing, and I couldn't say no. I was not going to get anyone the feeling I was moping around crying over Wade.
Is his match over yet?
No… will let u know the result? Go change and I'll text u…..need any supplies?
Supplies, I know what you're thinking. She didn't mean tampons. Layla was good like this though – she know the pressure I was under at times, and offered to go to the 7-11 at times to help me out.
Cigarettes plse. Don't worry about the light. Thanks hun x
I locked my phone, and let out a big sigh, as I strutted back to my locker room. Tonight I was just glad I had snagged a locker room to myself, I didn't want anyone seeing me right now. Hell, I kind of wanted to break down and cry a little - but nu uh, that wasn't me. Save your tears for your pillow, Morgan; I thought to myself as I grabbed my bag, and went into the bathroom. IT gave me the chance to brighten myself up a little, and shower although quite frankly I'd done nothing to break a sweat.
Ha... break a sweat... I would have loved that...
NO.
After 5 minutes in the shower, I changed back into a cut out pair of black tight pants, teamed with a leather bustier top. I looked hot, not going to lie. Normally, I didn't do makeup, but after surveying myself in the mirror, I could do with some colour on my face – I was turning into Aksana/Mortica.
I was in my own little world, and it had only just occurred to me my phone was violently buzzing – 3 missed calls from Layla.
Whats up Lay? I texted quickly.
WADE LOST, looks pissed. B careful!
"ohhh shit…" I muttered to myself. My head was spinning, the fact that I had
Justin says he nearly Ko'd Kidd on his way back. U not seen him?
"FUCKS SAKE"
HA. I have now…
Too late, I could already hear him kicking off down the hall way, and he'd obviously come straight to see me after. Wow, I'm so special? But hey… I couldn't hide forever. So I did probably the must immature thing. I heard him enter (or barge
"did you see that?! DID YOU BLOODY SEE THAT? URGGHHHH"
Wade's blood was boiling, leading to him ultimately sending one of his fists straight for one of the lockers nearby. I'm not paying for that, I thought heartheartedly, as I took out my compact mirror, struggling not to shake a little as I applied mascara. Was it bad I was a little scared? A little scared he'd blame me, or try and kiss me again and I'd fall all over again? I that he wanted to hit me... no. I would just make it worse with the silent treatment.
He clearly noticed, and turned a little, hands on his hips, and I could see he was looking at me a little confused. "Where are you going?"
"Anywhere away from you" I hissed back, thinking instantly I should watch my words.
"Wade, Morgan: would you mind commenting on your loss to Kofi Kingston tonight?" the voice came from my door, in the form of yet another tiny, over paid camera/interviewer. So there We were – me at the back of the locker room, this punk ass in my door, Wade stuck in the middle.
Loss. Loss was a word either of us could comprehend, and the fact Wade was being asked about it not even an hour after the match, pissed him off. I could literally hear him trying to containing himself and not give a little Souvenir to the stupid camera guy.
"Are you guys…. Together?"
Wade didn't know what to say, and I could tell he could tell he was trying to work out my reaction from out of the corner of his eye, looking for his answer. But what do you say when you're put on the spot like that?
"Wade," I piped up a little and walked over, placing a reassuring hand on his chest, and trying to push him away from the camera. "I'll sort this out"
Well… as much as I hated the guy, he was still my talent, and I was still his manager.
"bloody piss off, will you? He has nothing to say…." I almost spat at the poor guy through gritted teeth
That scared the camera guy off, as he ran off through my door again in the blink of an eye. But I couldn't be in here anymore, I thought as I pushed passed Wade, grabbed my blue leather jacket and bag, and pushed passed him again to leave. It's business. At the end of the day, it's business, I insisted, whilst insisting I didn't care anymore.
"Where are you going?" He spat back at me, as I put on my jacket in the door way.
"I'm going out. Told you, that's all you need to know"
"But what about us… business… You need to sort this mess out instead of drinking and sleep-"
"NO. YOU STOP THERE"
I knew what he was going to say, and it hurt. I didn't sleep around, and I hated it when I got put in that group of skanks. As for business? Fat chance I'm in the mood for dealing with that right now.
"You think I'm going to get wasted and stumble into bed with someone?" I hissed back, stabbing a little finger into his chest, watching him gulp a little a breathe a little faster "There's worse things I can do, worse."
I left, without even thinking of saying goodbye or contemplating turning back, texting Layla to meet me out back. Who the hell did he think he was? He couldn't tell me what to do, and that fact he didn't want me going out in fear I'd 'sleep' with someone…. I couldn't decide whether it upset or angered me.
I could hurt someone like me, Out of spite or jealously, I don't steal and I don't lie, but I can feel and I can cry, a fact you never knew….
"Morgan!"
"Lay, cigarettes?"
"As ordered" She proceeded to hand me the fresh pack. I hesitated a little. Part of me wanted to run back and go to Wade, apologise, something…
NO. Not this time
But to cry in front of you…. That's the worst thing I could do….