a/n all the thanks in the world to Showni13 for reviewing! I love you!

Following The Main Event;

By AliceJericho

Chapter 14: Thoughts

"Our destiny changes with our thought; we shall become what we wish to become, do what we wish to do, when our habitual thought corresponds with our desire." Orison Swett Marden

Thursday, March 4

"I'll be here when you get out, alright? And your father wants you to call him as soon as you feel up to."

"I know, I will," I smiled sadly. "Thanks, Rebecca."

She squeezed my good hand gently and I was wheeled down the hall in my hospital bed.

I'd been scheduled in to have surgery on my left arm. The plan was to re-break it and then put some pins in to make sure it heals correctly. I suppose I should have felt happy that I was finally going to improve. Though of the two things on my mind, that wasn't one of them.

The first, of course, was the thought that Cody might not ever speak to me again.

The second being that I would have to go the Hall of Fame ceremony with a cast on my arm.

Priorities, right?

I followed the lines in the ceiling as I was wheeled through the hospital. I never really hated hospitals. They weren't my favourite places in the world but I'd never been afraid of walking into one. To me they weren't places people died but places where people healed.

"Alright Sunday, did you have any last questions?"

"None," I answered, staring up at the, still white, ceiling.

"Alright then. We're going to put this mask on and if you start counting back from 100 you should be out before you hit 80."

I did as I was told, counting backwards from 100 and sure enough I can't remember anything after 90.

I was home later that night, sitting in front of the television watching Cameron's favourite show. Not really watching, though, just staring at the television and pondering my life.

My mind kept flickering back to Ted. I had never found out what he was up to. I'd been so preoccupied in trying to get better and back into the ring that I'd pushed it to the back of my mind – plus Cody really did not like me prying.

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I suppose," I told Rebecca. "It's not really sore. Just uncomfortable."

"You're thinking quite hard over there," she stated. Cameron's laugh in the background really brought me back into the living room. I needed to tell someone about what I'd done but there was no way I could say it in front of Cameron.

There was no way I could say it in front of Rebecca either.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to go to bed." I stood up and said goodnight to my step-mum and half-brother.

As I walked to my room I looked down at my cast – Cheyenne had scribbled her name over a large majority of it – and genuinely couldn't believe that it was going to be almost six months until I could wrestle again. Three months with the arm in a cast and then a few months of physiotherapy to ensure I was 100%.

I changed as quickly as I could and climbed under the covers, pulling them up to my chin.

My phone lit up the room from the bedside table and it vibrated against the wood. I carefully rolled over to get it. My heart broke when I saw that it wasn't a text from Cody. It had been a week and half.

Just fall of the face of the earth. That's fine. I only just heard about you and Cody. Was it about the photos? You looked hot if that makes you feel any better. Call me if you need to.

It was from Keegan. It didn't make me feel any better. My heart sunk to my stomach and I felt like I was going to vomit. The fact that the photos had travelled to Smackdown just added to the terrible week I was having.

Dad undoubtedly knew about them. He'd been distant since my last appearance at Raw.

I had nude photos floating around the WWE locker room and it was really only a matter of time before some asshole posted them on the internet.

Friday, March 5

"SMACKDOWN IS ON!" Cameron flew into my room and jumped on my bed. I quickly moved my laptop out of the way and stared at him. He was out of breath.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" he jumped up and down.

"Already?" I asked, watching as he grew more and more impatient.

"Yeah! Come on!" I held out my good hand and let him pull me from the bed. His footsteps were heavy as we ran through the halls and skid around the corner to the living room.

"Who do you want to see tonight?" I asked as I sat on the couch. He sat on a bean bag almost right in front of the television.

"Edge! He's going to beat Chris Jericho at Wrestlemania and be champion!"

"Is he now?" I couldn't help but smile at how excited he was. I remembered being just like him at that age. Always cheering the good guys and booing the bad guys – dad being the one notable exception – and knowing who I wanted to win and being really upset when they didn't.

"And when you get better you're going to be champion, too!" My heart soared as he turned to be and nodded enthusiastically.

"I like the sound of that!" I responded wholeheartedly. "Who am I going to beat? Michelle or Maryse?"

"Uh," he thought very hard for half a minute before coming to a conclusion. "Michelle! She's a big meany!" He froze when he heard the opening to the show. "It's starting! Shh!"

I tried my hardest to focus on the show but with the soaring pain in my wrist and the thoughts running through my head, I couldn't. I just couldn't.