A/N: It's time for the pool party fallout. Hope you like…
'Your destination is twenty minutes away. Take a left on to the highway.'
Iseult sat in her rental car, having keyed in the address for the arena where Raw would take place that evening. She relaxed back into the plush leather seat for a moment, staring blindly at the cars passing by the gas station.
She was so tired.
Last night with Charlie had been fun, an exercise in pleasure. Waking up this morning, her body had felt relaxed beyond belief. All of the tension and anxiety that she had been carrying around with her for weeks had left her muscles. Her physical and mental state had been re-set, ready to start again - but with a new perspective on things. She should have sought Charlie out weeks ago – his fun-loving attitude was exactly what she needed. What more could a girl want than a good friend who knew how to make her come? Multiple times?
…And then Randy had happened.
Iseult's instincts had screamed at her, warning her not to hang out with him and Ashley at the pool. The whole situation was messed up. Why had Ashley bothered to knock at her door that morning? Why had Randy then insisted that she and Charlie join them? His mood had been all over the place, it was exhausting to try and keep pace with it.
Confrontational.
Sneering.
Teasing.
Seething with anger.
Had it been a set up from the very start? Was he that butt-hurt about her rejecting him, that he felt the need to humiliate her publicly? Why had he chosen to focus in on the one thing that she was truly self-conscious about?
Having had some time to calm down and think, she knew that he hadn't caught sight of her scar. The clinging material of the tankini stuck to her skin when wet. He had merely been able to grab a handful, and tug her back to him - but without glimpsing the damage. It had all happened so fast, she had been so very fearful of being exposed. But, logically, she knew that he would have made a bigger deal of it if he had seen it. He had certainly not been in any mood to take it easy on her. He had wanted to hurt her…but, why?
She glanced down at the items scattered across the passenger seat, biting her bottom lip as she eyed them. On impulse, she had grabbed several chocolate bars, some sugary sweets and a few bags of Popchips while waiting to pay at the counter. Normally, she was very disciplined with the food that she put into her body. After all, it was both her temple and her moneymaker.
If she didn't maintain a strong, healthy physique, then the company would drop her in a heartbeat. That didn't bother her. She liked taking care of herself - the regimented routine of her workouts and meals was something that she genuinely enjoyed. She thrived on stability, something that she had learned the hard way in her teens.
But, damn. She had been burned that day, in a way that had caught her completely off-guard, and by a man who she would never have expected to be so incredibly vindictive. Her gut still ached from the encounter with Randy earlier that day. She didn't know what inspired him to say such nasty things to her, and to be honest, she didn't want to know.
Ashley's insults had been pointed and intentional. Iseult usually had no problem in brushing them off, dismissing them as silly nonsense from a petty, shallow woman. Her career was more important and demanded her focus - she couldn't afford to become complacent and waste her energy on an ignorant airhead.
If she just had to deal with the brunette's comments, then she wouldn't have splurged on the small mountain of treats that lay beside her. But Randy's words had been acidic, maliciously tearing open old wounds and rubbing them raw with proverbial salt. Iseult had felt uncomfortable from the get go that morning, when she first tugged on that stupid tankini. Randy's weird behaviour, combined with Ashley's underhanded comments, had only added to her discomfort.
The pool game had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Randy -the man she was extremely attracted to, yet couldn't do anything about that attraction with - had taken advantage of her discomfort, and actually seemed to enjoy it. He had taunted her, rattled her confidence, and then threw his perfect fuck buddy in her face for good measure.
Deciding to put these thoughts aside for the moment, she started up the engine and followed the directions to the arena. Traffic was light in the early afternoon, and her trip passed by without incident.
She pulled into the car park reserved for company employees and took another moment for herself. Her eyes were drawn back to the pile of goodies. Just one little snack couldn't hurt. She would hardly swell up all because of one treat. She hadn't had time to go to the gym, but she could always do an extra long warm up, and maybe a few laps around the perimeter of the arena.
This morning had been a cluster fuck. She deserved a little comfort. Iseult grabbed one of the bars, ripped open the wrapper and sank her teeth into the chocolatey goodness. She closed her eyes and leaned back, savouring the flavor. She was a girl who loved to eat, but she tried to avoid empty calories…with the exception of cake. There was always a reason and time for cake.
She quickly devoured one bar, then another. A little voice in the back of her head snidely told her to stop, reminding her that she was merely living up to Ashley's characterisation of her as a flabby whale.
Fuck that. And fuck Ashley. I'll eat whatever I want to.
Purely out of spite to that annoying voice, she threw back a packet of Popchips too. The food disappeared within a matter of minutes, a wave of mild nausea following in its wake. She groaned and rested her forehead against the steering wheel, feeling conflicted. She instantly regretted eating that junk, but also knew that she was trying to fill up the empty pit that had developed in her tummy. Randy's nastiness and Ashley's never-ending digs had really done a number on her.
Her mind briefly flicked back to the moments after she had left the pool. She had stoically walked back to her room, biting the insides of her cheeks so as to stop any tears from falling. She dumped her stuff on the bed and paced the length of the room, unsure of how to react. Should she continue to fight the inevitable? Or should she give in and allow the sobs to wrack her body?
She was still trying to decide, when there had been a knock at the door. Charlie. Adorable, sweet, caring Charlie. He had really gone above and beyond the call of duty, agreeing to accompany her to the pool in the first place. What other casual bed buddy would have done that? It was telling that her friend with benefits had treated her with more care and respect than her bitchy colleague, and a man who had supposedly been interested in pursuing something with her. What a fucking joke.
Those big green eyes had been full of concern as he cautiously entered the room. He knew better than to ask how she was, the answer was written in the tight lines of her face as she tried to hold herself together. Iseult had put on a decent show, forcing a smile on to her lips, thanking him for being a good sport. He had tried to coax some conversation out of her, but she knew that if she uttered even one word about the events of that morning, that she would dissolve into a girl-shaped puddle of tears and snot. She already felt deeply unattractive, thanks to Randy telling her just what he thought of her looks. She didn't need to show the world just how ugly she felt.
Charlie had pulled her into a bear hug before he left, a tender gesture that was almost enough to break the hold that she had on her emotions. She managed to keep her tears at bay as he gently held her, before moving back and staring deep into her eyes, conveying a message of support without using any words. Once he had gone, she had stripped her clothes off, careful not to touch or even glance at her scar, and stepped under the steaming spray of the shower.
She was never this girl. She didn't do relationships, she stayed away from romantic attachments and she avoided emotional entanglements. How had Randy managed to get inside her head? He was the first man that she had ever felt a deep and insistent level of attraction for. She didn't even know anything substantial about him, and yet she just knew that she wanted him for more than physical reasons. None of this made any sense, but it did hurt like hell.
She tried to wash away the hideous feelings that overwhelmed her, scrubbing at her skin purposefully. The pain finally bubbled up from her gut, shot up her throat and caught the air, taking the sound of a loud, shuddering sob. The soapy puff fell from her grasp, as her strength drained from her body, and she limply slid down the wall to the shower floor.
Even then, when she allowed herself to cry, she refused to cede complete control over her emotions. Her left arm locked itself beneath her breasts, her right palm placed on her forehead as her head bowed. Gently rocking from side to side, this comforting motion anchored her as she unravelled, her guttural sobs amplified as they bounced off of the walls.
She had cried for several minutes, the hot water raining down on her skin. When the tears subsided, her face felt raw and sore. She had hoped that this release would allow her to embrace a comfortable numbness, that she would suddenly find herself bereft of feeling. Instead, the hollow pit in her tummy had expanded, and her eyeballs throbbed from the effort of crying.
Heaving a heavy sigh, she sat up in the car seat and stuffed the empty wrappers into her bag, attempting to banish the memory. She retrieved her suitcase from the boot and headed inside. It was still quite early in the afternoon, the majority of the talent not having arrived yet. Production staff briskly walked through the corridors, chatting with one another via headsets as plans and scripts changed by the minute. She normally enjoyed the buzz of Monday night Raw, but felt distinctly lethargic and defeated today.
Having dropped her stuff in the locker room, she decided to get a head start on hair and make-up before they were overrun with Superstars and Divas. She settled herself in the chair and idly chatted with the ladies as they curled her long blonde hair and worked on her face. They were sweet women, and didn't mention the redness around her nose and eyes - an obvious result of sobbing uncontrollably in the shower after Charlie had left.
Iseult examined her reflection in the mirror thoughtfully, scrutinising each feature and aspect of her face and upper body. Her eyes were still a bit bloodshot, dulling the impact that her bright blues normally made. They were oversized and cartoonish. There was that little bump on her nose, too. Her chin was pointy. Her massive breasts were heavy and uncomfortably tender right now. People never took her that seriously because of them. Her arms weren't as defined as they should be. She had always taken pride in her pale girl status, but right now, she just looked washed out.
So, this was what Randy really saw when he looked at her. No wonder he had jumped ship at the first opportunity.
She had been a game, something of a challenge when she managed to wrest back her self-control after that first kiss backstage. He probably hadn't expected an ugly girl to be able to resist him.
But she had.
That alone had seemingly been enough to pique his interest, convince him to play for a little while longer. Just until something, or someone, better came along. And that she certainly did – enter Ashley, stage right.
Iseult was still buried in her brooding when Gideon appeared, waving his hand back and forth in front of her face.
"Earth to Iseult…anyone home?" His perfectly white teeth revealed themselves in a smile that met his eyes.
Her eyes snapped up to his, a forced grin breaking on her lips.
"Hi, yup, mostly present and accounted for," she replied, getting up from the chair and thanking the hair and make-up team. He followed her outside to the hallway, watching her curiously.
"How are things going? You looked like you were a million miles away."
She nodded, acknowledging the accuracy of his observation, "Yeah, I was. But I'm back now and doing good. How are you? Trips still working you to the bone?" She paused, before continuing, "Please don't ever tell him that I called him Trips."
Gideon laughed, squeezing her shoulder as they walked, "Don't worry, I call him Trips, too….behind his back. I'm doing pretty well. Unusually, I happen to have a bit of free time on my hands. Do you wanna go grab a Starbucks? There's one right across the street."
Knowing that her own free time would consist of running laps around the arena, mentally bashing herself while also trying to avoid Randy and Ashley, Iseult eagerly accepted the invitation.
Luckily, the coffee spot was quiet, having just completed the lunch rush. Iseult stepped forward and ordered a hot chocolate. Regardless of the Floridian heat, and Ashley and Randy's comments about her body, she wanted that drink. She would be sure to work extra hard at the gym the next day.
"What's your name, Ma'am?" The barista asked, holding up a cup and pen, awaiting her response.
"Iseult." She said it without thinking.
"Patricia? Alright, you can wait at the other end of the counter."
Iseult's eyes grew wide in disbelief. That had been a new low in cultural relations.
Gideon hid his smile behind his hand. "Next time, I'm going to be Sarah," she muttered, wandering over to the designated spot.
He ordered his own latte, giving his name when asked.
"Derek? Alright Sir, you can collect your beverage from that end."
Iseult allowed herself to enjoy her first genuine smile since enduring Randy's putdowns that morning.
They collected their drinks, remembering to answer to their respective new names, and settled in a snug corner.
"I must say," he began, taking a sip, "you look beautiful – not to say that you don't normally look beautiful, but there's just..something different about you. What's been happening lately?"
She pointedly ran her eyes over the grey skinny jeans, black camisole and light black zip-up hoodie that she wore – hardly high fashion. She cast her eyes downward, blowing on the hot drink. "It's the make-up."
"No, that's not it. It's something else. You're literally glowing. Got some good news recently?"
A flare of heat crept across her cheeks, betraying her. "Um…"
He raised his eyebrows, patiently awaiting her answer.
"Okay. Fine. I got laid."
"You got laid?"
The female voice asked loudly, causing Iseult and Gideon to turn around.
Alison stood there, beaming broadly at Iseult, looking like a proud parent. She bounced forward, dropping into an empty chair and putting her hands beneath her chin, offering her full attention.
"Let me guess. Orton, right? How was he? I mean, he was obviously pretty amazing, because just look at that body and face, not to mention your glow. Details, details!"
Iseult stared at her friend, wide-eyed and completely taken aback by her enthusiasm. Alison's words then registered in her brain, slicing open that freshly sealed wound in her gut. She winced, rubbing her hand over her face in an attempt to conceal her reaction.
"Come on, come on, we don't have all day. I slipped out after I got Gideon's text, but I need to get back there ASAP." Alison rattled on, stopping briefly to order a cappauccino from a passing barista. "Is he hung like a horse? He looks like he'd give a girl a rough, pleasurable ride. Or was he surprisingly sweet and tender?"
Visions of Randy's hard, angry eyes as he uttered those devastating words flooded her mind. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to swallow around the painful lump in her throat.
"I wouldn't know," she replied quietly, keeping her eyes focused on the table. "You'd have to ask Ashley about that."
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry Iseult," Alison said softly, her hand clapping over her mouth. "I just assumed…"
She didn't need to finish that sentence. Anyone with half a brain, who had witnessed her previous interaction with Randy, would have assumed that they were humping like bunnies. He had put on a very convincing show. He actually made her believe that someone like him could be interested in someone like her. That he could want her.
Turns out that she was just a punch-line.
Her curls bounced as she gently shook her head. "Don't worry about it." She thought she had squeezed out every last tear in the shower, but it turned out that she still had a few left in reserve. She closed her eyes briefly, refusing to let them spill over. Once again, she reminded herself to be professional about this. She had to check her personal stuff at the door.
Cupping the mug in her hands, she wrenched up some resolve to act normally from her soft and aching gut.
"Anyway, it was a casual thing, with a friend. Nothing major. Now, enough about me. Tell me about your weekends."
Gideon and Alison looked at each other, worried by Iseult's sombre mood. She was usually a chipper, upbeat person. The girl before them was subdued and detached. Something was seriously wrong.
Gideon was the first to speak. "Um, so I have some pretty big news. My boyfriend asked me to move in with him this past weekend."
That immediately dispelled the weird atmosphere that had hung low and heavy over their table.
"And what did you say?" Alison asked, a smile on her face.
"Yes, because I love that asshole a lot," he shrugged while grinning widely. "A lot."
"That's so lovely, Gideon," Iseult said, reaching over to give him a sitting hug, which he happily accepted. "I have to meet this lucky man."
A gentle blush swept across his cheeks, ducking his head as he continued to smile. "We haven't figured out all of the finer details just yet, we were too busy celebrating…"
"Ugh, everyone was busy banging this weekend," Alison sighed, leaning in to Gideon and planting a kiss on his burning cheek. "I was swooning over Benedict Cumberbatch in Sherlock, and drowning in wine and self pity. But seriously, that is excellent news. We should do some celebrating ourselves."
Gideon and Iseult looked at her oddly, before she continued, "No! Not like that! A threesome sounds fun and all, and Lord knows I'd take anything at this point, but I was talking about maybe dinner and drinks."
"Yeah, I'd like that," Gideon said, sipping on his latte. "I'm trying to convince Jackson to take a few days off and come out on the road with me. We could all go out together."
"Ooh, Jackson, he even has a romance novel name," Iseult teased. "Count me in."
"Maybe your luck in finding a good man will rub off on me," Alison said thoughtfully. "I would love to have someone in my life. I love my job, but dealing with certain…employees tries my last nerve."
"Alison! Iseult is right here," Gideon joked.
"I just live up to my job title," Iseult shrugged, feeling the black cloud of her mood begin to lift slightly.
"Honey, you are a delight, trust me," Alison reassured her. "But that Ashley is a real cu-"
"Alison!" Gideon cut in again, but without any mirth in his voice this time.
The auburn-haired woman realised her mistake in bringing up the sore topic. Guilt flooded her eyes, as she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Iseult. I just don't think sometimes."
The blonde waved her hand, dismissing the apology. "It's fine. I told you – nothing is going on between Randy and me. You don't have to censor yourself around me. So, go on, what's she like? And did you know her during her previous stint here?"
Alison glanced at Gideon, unsure as to how she should proceed. "She's…difficult. Always poking at your work, but in a subtle way. She'll use that sickly sweet Southern belle schtick of hers to deflect attention from the fact that she's being a raging bitch. No other member of the roster has ever picked apart our efforts so much. I don't understand how or why she does it – it's not like she wears a whole lot. How much justified criticism could there be?"
"I was a newbie when she was first involved with the company. But even then, she was sly and underhanded. Of course, I was but a mere wardrobe assistant back then, so didn't merit much of her attention."
Gideon nodded sympathetically, "I was a lowly gopher all those years ago. Just out of college, and very green. I assumed that everyone out in the real world acted like an adult in the workplace, that courtesy and professionalism were to be expected. And that was true…for the most part. Ashley was an exception. She held sway with the top executives and always managed to convince them to do things her way."
"How do I not remember her?" Iseult asked, frowning as she tried to recall Ashley's time with the company.
"She was a redhead back then, if that helps," he replied. "She pulled some pretty underhanded crap – when a certain Diva was due for a push with a storyline involving a top guy, Ashley whispered a few words in the right ears and the push was scrapped without explanation."
"Woah." Iseult's eyes widened in shock. "How does anyone have that much sway? I might expect Cena to be able to get away with that, but an expendable, generic Diva?" She couldn't help but throw in the digs at Ashley's less than stellar wrestling career.
Well, when you suck up to the right people, anything is possible…" Alison muttered, sipping on the dregs of her coffee.
Iseult arched a brow at her, "Care to explain?"
Gideon broke in before Alison had the chance to. "Nothing. Just backstage gossip."
"No, it's not," Alison insisted, shaking her head. "Ashley and Orton were a thing back in the day. I walked in on her giving him…I am such an idiot." She dropped her forehead to the table and banged it lightly a few times.
Iseult felt nauseous, the implication smacking her in the face. Ashley and Randy had a lot of history together. No wonder they were all over each other. Had Ashley returned for the sake of her career? Or was she looking for another prestigious prize, that wasn't the Divas Championship? Iseult had never stood a chance. Ashley was the type of woman that he was attracted to, confirming that he could never be interested in her. They were polar opposites.
She had been content to ice out any potential love interests since she was a teenager. Why did Randy have to come along and light a fire in her that she had never felt before? Why did she want an unattainable man? Why was she interested in someone who was so obviously disgusted by her?
She left her half-finished drink on the table and rose from her seat, picking up her phone as she did so. "I've really got to get back and go over notes with Creative. They've called me in for a meeting, and I don't want to be late. I'll see you later."
She was already gone by the time they called out their goodbyes.
This day was too much to handle. She had always thought herself to be a strong, take no shit kind of woman, but this man and his girlfriend had managed to get to her. She winced, just thinking about their relationship status. They had history together, were clearly sleeping together, and would now be working and travelling together. And Iseult had a ringside seat to watch it all go down. Superstars and Divas practically lived in one another's pockets – their road family was incredibly close. Secrets were impossible to keep, and everyone was privy to everyone else's business. There would be no way of avoiding them.
When she reached the arena, she grabbed her bag from the locker room and made her way to the makeshift office where the Creative team were holding fort. She waited patiently near the team of writers, trying to appear casual yet professional, as they finished chatting with the Funkadactyls.
Glancing around, she saw the Shield flipping through their script in the corner. Seth caught her eye and offered her a little wave, which she couldn't help but return. Roman pouted at her and practiced his best Blue Steel face, his grey eyes smouldering. That seemed to be his thing lately. She pretended to swoon and fan herself, which made him laugh. Knowing that these three always worked as a cohesive unit, she slid her eyes over to Ambrose and awaited his own unique form of greeting. He stared blankly at her for a few moments, before raising his middle and forefinger in a V and sticking his tongue through the gap. She arched an eyebrow at his crude gesture and pushed her tongue prominently against the inside of her cheek, causing it to bulge out.
She was still in the middle of this face off, when one of the writers called her name.
Shit.
They had seen her making a 'dick bubble' in her cheek, but didn't know that Ambrose had provoked that reaction from behind them. What was that about being professional, again?
She blushed as she sat down, watching as Ambrose then thrust his hips while spanking an imaginary butt in front of him.
Okay, admittedly, seeing that had lifted her mood slightly. She turned her attention to the team, who congratulated her on eliciting intense reactions from the WWE Universe - on tv, at house shows and online.
"Thanks," she smiled, feeling beyond pleased that they had noticed. "I never knew that being a heel could be so much fun. I'm aware that a lot of the heat comes from the fact that I'm interacting with a top name during my segments. So, thank you for the opportunity. I really appreciate it."
"We're glad to hear that you're enjoying yourself," Tim, one of the senior writers, said while tapping a pen thoughtfully against his chin. "We want to up the intensity of your feud with Randy, and have found a story that we think will be compelling, and a fantastic way to properly cement you as a permanent fixture on the main roster."
Iseult's ears pricked up. She liked the sound of this. If it involved working extra hours, then she welcomed the opportunity with open arms. This could be the distraction that she needed. She could bury herself completely in her work, and ignore Randy until her feelings for him faded.
Finally, something is going my way.
"That sounds fantastic," she said eagerly, accepting the script that he pushed across the table. She opened it up, flicking through until she found a page that had been marked with a red tab. She looked up at him again, "Whatever it is, count me in. I'm ready for this."
Tim grinned at her, "That's the attitude that we love. We think you're really going to enjoy this."
"How exactly will we be upping the ante?" She watched them expectantly, feeling bolts of excitement shooting down her arms to her fingertips. She was ready to fully immerse herself in her career, and live up to her potential.
A voice as slow as molasses drawled from behind her, "Oh my days, Iseult, we're going to have one heck of a time with this little feud of ours! Aren't we, baby?"
If it was even possible, Iseult's stomach dropped for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
She slowly turned around to find Ashley standing there, a smug smile on her face, her arm wrapped tightly around Randy's waist.
Iseult couldn't even look him in the eye. She just couldn't.
"Ashley will now play a major role in the feud," Tim explained, as Iseult wrenched back her gaze and focused it on the script in her now trembling hands. The tremor wasn't obvious, but it only served to remind her how awful these two could make her feel, by their mere presence alone.
"You'll be feuding for several weeks, at least. Starting tonight."
A/N: Thanks for your patience, writer's block has been whooping my butt when it comes to Iseult's story. Reading over reviews helped massively in pushing past it, so please leave feedback. Your thoughts make for great motivation!
Thank you to Sinistergateslegend, OtherLuces, Thoughts in Chaos, Awake-the-Dark and Violets in the rain for sticking with me and being so lovely about my little story. It's much appreciated
This chapter is dedicated to Thoughts in Chaos, who read through the draft for this chapter and whose suggestions helped me get it on track. Thank you.