Sorry, sweethearts, I had to put Matt in it. Even if it's just a little bit of Matt love. XD.

Chapter Twenty One

I was in England now.

I couldn't believe it.

The British accent was always something that used to annoy me as I grew up and now, I heard it all the time and I couldn't ignore it. It was the morning and I was still looking for jobs. I had gotten a job offer in a supermarket and another one in a restaurant but I felt so worthless and useless.

From a wrestler to a waiter?

From a wrestler to a bagger?

My stomach was sloshing with horror as I realized how educated these people were and how cruel the British system was and in the midst of this all, I sat down on the bench of the park and I held back my tears as I looked around the park and it was the only thing that reminded me of Chicago, the same parks as America and I could even push away the British accents of the children as I put my head in my hands and I sobbed recklessly.

No Matt to wipe away my tears.

Matt…

I wanted him. I needed him.

I couldn't understand why I was doing this anymore. I JUST WANTED TO GO HOME! I wanted Matt! I wanted to see him. I l-l-l-loved him and he would never know that but I couldn't say it.

My head.

Matt…

I-I-I-I love you.

And he'd never know that.

By night, I took the job at the restaurant and I bunked in a bus so I couldn't spend too much money. Money here was tight, everything was so damn expensive and I couldn't even afford staying in the bus for long and now that I was descending out of the tenth bus and the colors were all around and I-I sat down on the floor and I was practically sobbing when I tried falling asleep.

Why did this have to happen…?

The only thing I had now was the clothes on my back and my backpack.

I OWNED NOTHING.

Not even my heart anymore. That was property of Matthew Moore Hardy now. Did you know how it felt like to own nothing?!

I felt so worthless.

I wanted to go home.

I really did.

And I wanted to be this CM Punk mask I've always worn and now, just as I was about to leave, I heard a voice from behind me.

"Hey…pretty face CM Punk, huh?" a man, who looked fairly old and just as I was about to go away, he held my hand, "want to make some extra bucks, bitch?"

"You mean like…"

"How old are you? Like thirty? Don't you understand an invitation to fuck? I thought a bitch like you is supposed to know…" he came close to me, "or do you have a better place to stay tonight?"

I didn't say anything.

He gave me a $50 and he grabbed onto my arm, dragging me off towards the darkness…

What was I doing?

I was CM Punk…and I was a prostitute here?

His place was dark and dingy.

I wanted to get out when I stepped in but somehow, I ended up spending the night and breathless and in pain, I heard the sound of my cell phone buzzing and I pushed my body towards the edge of the bed so I took my jeans and dug out the cold metallic phone before pressing it against my ear, "Phil?"

Matt.

"Matt-"

A grunt escaped the man's lips as he ran his hand down my cheek. "Hey, CM Punk, give me some sheets, it's not all your bed you know."

I gave him the rest of my sheets which left me completely and utterly naked and cold but I didn't care. I needed to hear Matt's words, I needed to hear his voice…it was the only thing that was linking me to sanity.

"Who was that, Phil?"

"A guy. He's one of my costumers."

"Phil! What the hell—? You're a prostitute?! Phil, come back here! I don't want you to get hurt! PHIL!"

"…too late…"

"Phil…"

The way I sounded. I almost hurt myself but I knew that no matter how Matt felt for me, I didn't deserve his arms wrapped around me.

I was too horrible.

I was too terrible and horrid and I can't—

"Phil, I love you. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to you?"

"Because I hate myself!" I screamed out loud, causing the man to smack me at the back of my neck and when I'd turned down my voice, I spoke, soft and slurred. "I hate myself…I don't know who I am…I don't know why anyone should love me and…I…I hate me so bad…I deserve to bleed, Mat…I'm addicted, Matt…" sobs slowly falling out of my lips and I tried to contain myself.

But with Matt, it was hard.

"Why am I losing everything, Matty…?"

More sobs that I couldn't get rid of.

"Phil, please, calm down…come back…we miss you…"

"That's a lie!" I exclaimed, suddenly my sobs turned louder but the man was so sound asleep that he didn't really care and I rubbed out my unshed tears. "No one misses me! No one even cares, Matt!"

"…I care."

That got me.

It made the sobs stop but the tears still fell.

"…I miss you."

"…Matt…"

"I know I'm fucked up, too, Phil but I still love you and I'd do anything to just touch you one more time."

"Matt, please," I was crying and sobbing now. "Matt…please…"

"I know. I'm pathetic. I know that I'm horrible! Just don't say anything anymore, Phil! Just tell me this…can you tell me you love me, even if it's fake? I need to have a little hope in my miserable life."

"I can't."

"Phil…"

"I can't," I whispered. "It's too much for me, Matt. I'm sorry." And that was when my low battery disconnected the call and the tears were still freely overflowing from my eyes. I wanted to tell him that I loved him.

I just couldn't say those three words.

Too much for me.

...next chappie will be an intake of them a YEAR LATER. :)

X Sam.