A/N: I KNOW, this chapter is way too long in coming. What can I say? Writer's block is an ugly, ugly disease, and this chapter was one of those where I struggled and struggled to make it perfect. Even now, I'm not a hundred percent happy with it, 'cause I feel like I'm a little rusty, but, eh, it happens. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it; that's the important part.
Thank you to Raven serotonin, Souless666, xAttitudex, Writinglove101, rory21, Batista Addicts and CerebralPrincess for your reviews! You are...(dramatic pause)...AWESOME!
Chapter 25: All Hallow's Eve
Ashley gazed into the mirror, adjusting the little black horns on her head. The rookie Diva took a step back, appraising her reflection. Low-cut silver corset, black bottoms, fishnet stockings peeking out of knee-high black boots—all in all, not too bad. All she needed now was her wings and her Halloween costume would be complete.
Three weeks had gone by, bringing with them yet another edition of Monday Night Raw. Tonight's broadcast from Anaheim had happened to fall on October 31, so the Raw Divas would be having their own version of a Halloween Costume Contest for the fans. The Diva Search winner knew that tonight's segment was little more than yet another opportunity for the overly hormonal male spectators in the audience to ogle a group of beautiful scantily-clad women, but still, she relished every opportunity that she got to entertain the fans. After all, they were the reason she was here.
Normally, Ashley loved Halloween, but in spite of her excitement, she couldn't quell a slight sensation of unease. For the last few weeks—ever since No Mercy—she'd been plagued by the eerie feeling that she was being watched. Of course, she'd never seen anyone or anything to back up this notion, but that didn't stop goosebumps from breaking out on her arms every time she went somewhere by herself. The rookie Diva knew that she was too old to still be believing in the boogeyman, but whenever she walked through a deserted parking garage or darkened hallway, she couldn't shake the idea that she wasn't alone; that someone else was waiting in the shadows, silently observing her every move…
"Hey, Ash! Great costume!"
The Diva Search winner turned, grinning at Maria as she stepped into the locker room. "Thanks! You too!" By sheer coincidence, the two Divas had elected to dress up as angels, though their costumes were far from similar. Maria, in her white tulle skirt and feathered white top, personified angelic, while Ashley's getup definitely represented a darker version.
Appropriate, since she had fallen for the bad boy.
Ashley quickly snatched the thought out of mid-air before it could crystallize in her mind. After three weeks, her life and her relationship with Matt had finally taken on some semblance of normality, and she was not going to let one random notion spoil her entire evening.
The rookie Diva headed for an adjacent bench, still talking as she walked. "I can't believe, though, that I'm actually wearing less clothing than Candice. I mean, when has that ever happened?"
Maria giggled. "I wouldn't worry about it. I just saw Candice in the bathroom in her Catwoman outfit, crawling around on the floor. Did you know she's actually planning on crawling down the ramp on all fours tonight?"
"That shouldn't be too hard for her," Ashley replied. "Candice on her knees, in a cat suit…that's pretty much every Friday night for her."
This comment made the backstage reporter laugh even harder. "Yeah!" she answered when she was able to talk once more. "I bet she loves Halloween, because it's the one day out of the year where guys don't come up to her and ask her how much for an hour!" At this, Ashley cracked up as well, and a few minutes elapsed before both Divas were able to get themselves back under control.
Maria looked back up at the rookie Diva, her expression sobering a touch. "Speaking of costumes, I saw Mickie's and I have to say…I'm a little freaked out."
Ashley's smile faded and she glanced down toward the bench. "I hear ya," she replied after a long pause.
"I mean," the backstage reporter continued. "It's one thing to say you're Trish's biggest fan—but it's another to actually dress up like her for Halloween." She peered at Ashley, her green eyes narrowing a little. "Ash, you're around her more than I am. Between the two of us…is she really as crazy as she seems?"
The Diva Search winner shrugged, bending over to pick up her black-feathered wings. She looked down again, fidgeting with one of its straps for several seconds before shrugging. "I don't know," she finally admitted.
Ashley wasn't trying to evade the question; she truly didn't have an answer. There was no doubt that Raw's newest Diva was incredibly talented in the ring, and with her addition to Trish and Ashley's partnership, the evil triad had wisely kept their torments (on and off television) to a minimum. Plus, there were times when Mickie was actually sweet and laid-back and fun. But inevitably, the manic exuberance and crazed enthusiasm she had displayed during her debut always eclipsed these glimpses of genuine personality, leading the rookie Diva to the conclusion that Mickie must be missing a few screws upstairs.
Either the new Diva was completely insane—or she was smarter than she looked, playing the crazy card to throw everyone around her off-balance. Whatever the case might be, Ashley found that she just couldn't bring herself to trust Mickie James.
There was a sudden knock at the door, startling both Divas. Maria frowned a little and headed over to answer it, her feathered high heels making little clicking sounds on the cement floor. Ashley turned back toward the row of shelves behind her, concentrating on slipping her arms through the shoulder straps of her wings. It wasn't her job to gauge Mickie's sanity…especially when, lately, she seemed to be going a little crazy herself.
"Ash!" The Diva Search winner turned at the sound of her friend's voice. Apparently done conversing with whoever had been at the door, Maria was now walking back toward Ashley, an enormous grin lighting up her pretty face. "Present for you!"
Ashley's brows came together in confusion, and it took her a second or two to realize that Maria was holding something. Nestled in the other Diva's arms was a sizable bouquet of flowers, wrapped in green paper. A closer look told her that the blossoms were roses, their petals a vivid hue of magenta. Even though the rookie Diva was the farthest thing from a girly-girl, she still couldn't suppress a squeal of delight at the sight of the bunch of flowers. She rushed toward Maria, scooping up the bouquet and bringing it close to her face to inhale their soft scent. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed. Ashley touched one of the roses, feeling its velvety softness beneath her fingertips. "There's no card…I wonder who they're from."
"Duh!" The Diva Search winner glanced back up. Maria rolled her eyes good-naturedly before mouthing "Matt!" At the mention of her boyfriend's name, Ashley felt a familiar pleasurable tingle ripple through her body. It was a sensation, though, that always seemed to bring with it just the slightest hint of pain, of longing—her heart's way of subtly reminding her that no matter how much she did care for the elder Hardy brother, their relationship was merely a compromise.
It was a compromise that she herself had made, because following her heart would have been too uncertain. And it was a compromise that she couldn't even hint at to anyone; not her friends…and definitely not to Matt. Because she was treading along a razor's edge; one wrong move, one wrong look at the wrong person at the wrong time—and everything she had built up for herself would be destroyed.
Besides, Matt was funny, he was cute, he was sweet, and he genuinely loved her—which was a hell of a lot more than she could say about some people.
The rookie Diva realized that Maria was still talking to her, and rapidly brought her thoughts back to the present. "I mean," the backstage reporter added, unaware of Ashley's mental zone-out. "Who else would they be from?"
Those last six words were uttered in a teasing tone, and were clearly meant as a joke, but nevertheless, Ashley felt something inside her falter and she flinched a little bit. "Yeah," the Diva Search winner replied slowly, hoping that the dread and uncertainty gripping her insides wasn't registering on her face. "Who else?"
Who else?...
Her entire body had gone numb; she could no longer feel the rose petals against her fingers or even the floor beneath her feet. Ashley quickly turned and walked over to the makeup counter, setting the bouquet down next to her flatiron before she could drop it. Her head swam with dizziness, the world in front of her eyes inverting itself, and she knew with an awful sense of certainty that if she didn't leave this room right now, she was either going to throw up or pass out. Or both.
"Excuse me, 'Ria," she said, her voice sounding calm, collected, and completely alien to her own ears. "But I have to go pee. I'll be right back." She heard Maria's confused "Sure, Ash—" as though from a great distance, but didn't stay to hear the rest; she was already barreling out the door.
As soon as she was out in the hall, away from the questioning gaze of Maria, Ashley took a few deep breaths, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Her nausea had lessened; she could still feel it lurking at the back of her throat, but the urge to puke was no longer so immediate.
The rookie Diva looked up, her vision beginning to steady as she took in the familiar sights of equipment crates and chairs pushed against cinderblock walls, of people (Superstars and backstage personnel) going about their various tasks. But even though Ashley had regained control over her own state of physical consciousness, she still couldn't quell the anxiety clamping down on her stomach.
Maria had just been joking; of course Matt had sent her the flowers. He was her boyfriend, for crying out loud; that's what boyfriends did. So why was she freaking out? Why was she out here in a crowded hallway, on the verge of a panic attack, over some comment that was completely innocuous?
Maybe because Maria's remark—as innocent as it had been—had been a reminder that despite Ashley's better efforts, the Diva Search winner still had unfinished business…
Ashley was so lost in her own mental turmoil that she shrieked when two hands came down to rest on either side of her neck. She spun around, nearly clipping the other person with her wings.
Matt jumped back, narrowly avoiding contact with the feathered costume piece. "Whoa, watch where you swing those things!" he exclaimed. "You're gonna put someone's eye out!"
For a single instant, Ashley's mind went completely blank with shock. Then, as reality reasserted itself and she realized that her boyfriend was standing right in front of her, Ashley's astonished countenance turned to one of elation and she rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "Matt? Oh my God, you scared me so bad!"
The elder Hardy brother chuckled, slipping his arms around her waist to draw her closer against him. "Sorry, baby girl, but I have to admit: if this is what I get for scaring you, I ought to sneak up on you more often."
The rookie Diva pulled back a little, trying to look indignant and hold back her laughter at the same time. "You jerk!" she replied, swatting his arm playfully. She studied his face, drinking in the warmth and affection radiating from his gaze. "Matt, what are you—"
That was all she got out before Matt ducked his head down, capturing her mouth in a kiss, and for several long seconds, the Diva Search winner was effectively silenced. Gradually, they broke apart, and Matt placed a gentle kiss on his girlfriend's forehead. "I missed you, Ash," he murmured.
Ashley closed her eyes, pressing her body just a little bit closer to his. "I missed you, too." she whispered. After a moment or two, she tilted her head up to meet her boyfriend's eyes. "Seriously, Matt—what are you doing here?"
The elder Hardy brother shrugged. "Just backing up my buddy Rey tonight in his match against that walking 'roid freak, Chris Masters." Over the past few weeks, Raw and SmackDown had been engaged in a bit of a brand war, ever since a resentful Eric Bischoff had turned the lights out during a SmackDown six-man tag match at Raw's Homecoming. After that, SmackDown Superstars had been crashing Raw, Raw Superstars had been crashing Smackdown, and tonight, the two brands would be represented in an interpromotional match between Rey Mysterio and the self-proclaimed "Masterpiece".
Matt went on. "The way I see it—I'm just returning the favor to Bischoff for sticking me in that 'Loser Leaves Raw' debacle." He glanced down fondly at the rookie Diva. "So who are you rooting for tonight? You going to be loyal and pull for Raw?"
Ashley made a derisive noise in the back of her throat. "Please. My first day here, Chris Masters tried to hit on me, and I almost threw up in my mouth. I may be a Raw Diva, but trust me…" She took hold of Matt's shirt, pulling him closer to her. "My heart belongs to SmackDown." she finished.
The SmackDown Superstar laughed, but Ashley could hear the desire lurking at the edges of his voice. "That's why you're my girl," he answered. "And you are…without a doubt…the sexiest angel that I have ever seen."
"Hmm…" the rookie Diva murmured. She trailed her finger down his chest suggestively. "You think I'm an angel now…but wait until later tonight."
Matt didn't say anything at first, but Ashley could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. "Ashley Massaro, are you hitting on me?" the elder Hardy brother whispered, his tone husky with need.
The Diva Search winner tiptoed up until her lips grazed his. "Maybe." For a moment, they remained like that, then Ashley pulled back, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So…someone delivered a bunch of roses to the women's locker room—"
"Yeah, I wondered about that!" Matt interjected, cutting her off. "I passed the intern who was carrying them in the hallway earlier, and I wondered who they were for." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "If you ask me, Helms finally couldn't stand it anymore and decided to tell Maria how he feels about her. I swear to God, if this guy was still in elementary school, he'd be passing notes that say: 'Do you like me? Check Yes or No.'" The elder Hardy brother laughed. "If I see him in the locker room, I am gonna bust him so bad…"
Matt's mouth was still moving, words were still coming out of his mouth, but Ashley could no longer hear them. It was as though a veil had been dropped over her, shutting her off from the rest of the world. Her heart was beating wildly, slamming against her ribs, and as she stared up at her boyfriend, a kind of awful clarity came over her, bringing with it the terrible but unmistakable truth: Matt hadn't sent her the flowers.
And if Matt hadn't sent the flowers, then that left only one other person. One other man in her life who cared enough to send her a bunch of roses…
The rookie Diva kept the smile on her face, even though it hurt like hell. The lightheaded feeling rushed back in, making her head spin, making her feel as though she had been abruptly severed from the laws of physics and left to float off into oblivion. Her stomach churned, and when she swallowed, she could taste hot bile at the back of her mouth.
Matt, meanwhile, was still talking about Helms and Maria, completely unaware that his girlfriend had suddenly gone mute with horror, or that her face was a few shades paler than it had been a second ago. "Listen, baby girl," he remarked. "I've got to go meet up with the other SmackDown guys, but I'll see you later, okay?" He leaned down, kissing her quickly on the lips. "Love you."
All of Ashley's responses were automatic; she was operating purely through reflex at this point. "Yeah," she managed to say as Matt strolled off to locate his compatriots. "Love you, too."
The hallway was dim and deserted, but for once, Ashley was glad that it was that way. Right now, she couldn't even breathe; no matter how much oxygen she tried to draw into her lungs, it didn't seem sufficient to sustain her. The Diva Search winner stopped, pressing her face to the cool textured surface of the wall. Tears were stinging her eyes, gathering on her lower lashes and blurring her vision, and it was taking every modicum of self-restraint she possessed not to break down and cry.
Why had he waited until now, when the orbit of her world was finally returning to normal? Why was he still trying, when she had made it clear that he had lost his chance? Why wouldn't he leave her alone, when it was clear that they could never be together?
Ashley realized in that instant that as much as she loved Randy, she also hated him with an equal amount of intensity. The rookie Diva balled her hand up into a fist, slamming it against the wall. "Fuck." she spat. She hit the wall again, harder this time. "Fuck!" She tried for a third blow, but her strength abruptly left her, and her knuckles merely grazed the wall. Ashley let her hand fall limply to her side, the first tears rolling down her cheeks. "I hate you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I hate you…"
Ashley…
The Diva Search winner felt her heart stop. She looked around, but as always, the corridor was empty. But yet, Ashley could felt the unnatural intense cold slithering over her skin like an icy mist, all while that voice continued to resonate in her head.
Ashley…
The rookie Diva squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face against the wall. "You're not real," she whispered, her voice shaking, teetering on the brink of full-blown panic. "You're not real, you're not real—"
SILENCE…
The voice boomed in her head, nearly deafening her, and Ashley obeyed. Icy fingers gripped the back of her neck, almost hard enough to hurt, and she gasped. The cold filled her body, driving out the warmth, turning her blood to ice. The Diva Search winner began to cry, almost expecting the tears to solidify on her face. "Please…" she pleaded through chattering teeth. "Please…leave me alone."
The fingers on her neck suddenly released their grip, and for a heartbeat, Ashley thought that her invisible tormentor had departed. But then she felt the fingers graze her cheek, their touch as light and gentle as a caress, but with none of the physical warmth that such a gesture normally brings. And she heard the voice again, speaking in that same drawling emotionless intonation:
THIS…is only the beginning…
The chill abruptly dissipated as a warm hand gently grasped her shoulder, followed by a tentative voice: "Ash?" The rookie Diva whirled around, once again nearly nailing the other person with her wings. Ashley clapped both hands over her mouth. "Oh my God, Matt, I'm sorry…" Her voice trailed off into silence as she gradually realized that the person staring back at her was the farthest person in the world from Matt Hardy.
Randy Orton wore a loose blue button-up shirt over khakis, one hand shoved into his pants pocket, the other was still stretched out toward Ashley. For several long seconds, the Legend Killer and the Diva Search winner regarded one another, before Randy broke the silence, lowering his hand back down to his side. "Hey."
"Hey." Ashley replied, literally at a loss for anything else to say.
The former World Heavyweight Champion studied her for a few more moments, his brow creasing in concern. "Ash, what's wrong—" he began.
"It's nothing," the rookie Diva interjected tersely, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine!" Randy shot back. He moved toward her, reaching out as though to embrace her. "Look at you—you're terrified. What happened—"
"Don't touch me! I told you, it's nothing!" Ashley shied back from the Legend Killer's touch, her voice rising in volume until it was practically a scream. Randy halted, a mixture of emotions fighting for dominance on his handsome face. It was clear that he was torn between obeying her command and following his own desire to comfort her. His azure eyes were on her face, but as he stood there, his gaze moved lower, making a subtle sweep over her body. Ashley could feel the weight of his stare against her skin, and for the first time, she was aware of just how little clothing she was actually wearing. She crossed her arms over her chest, painfully cognizant of just how similar this situation was to the first time she and Randy had met…and how much things had changed.
Back then, he had been her only friend. Now…he was the last person she wanted to see.
The Diva Search winner glared at Randy, glad at least that she didn't have to fake her ire. Just looking at him made her head swim with a confused jumble of about twenty different emotions…but anger was definitely one of them. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice low but harsh.
The Legend Killer flinched a little at the iciness of her tone. His eyes slid away from hers, focusing on the patch of floor next to her feet. He hesitated for only a second before answering her…but it was just a second too long. "I'm here for Rey's match, that's all," he replied. However, there was no conviction in his voice, and his gaze never once budged from the floor.
"Bullshit!" Ashley shot back fiercely, feeling her face flush with emotion. She started to move forward, but quickly stopped herself. The closer she got to him, the harder it would be to resist him—and if he succeeded in putting his hands on her, it would be all over. The only way to hold onto her rage would be to keep her distance; otherwise, her anger would evaporate like snow in sunlight.
The rookie Diva locked her knees in place, moving her feet a little bit apart as though toeing an imaginary line. She hugged herself even tighter, cursing Creative and their stupid costume contest. This conversation would be so much easier if she was fully clothed. "For once, look me in the eye and tell me the goddamn truth. I know you sent me the flowers—so why are you here?"
Randy stiffened, and Ashley saw a cold resolution creep over his features. He looked up, locking eyes with her, and the Diva Search winner had to stifle a gasp. Randy's countenance was impassive, but his eyes burned with intensity and need; flames of blue fire flickering out from behind a face as unyielding as granite. "I came here to see you," he finally said. His voice was tight, strained, as though uttering each word was a strenuous endeavor. "Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear? I came here because I wanted to see you…because I had to see you."
Ashley stared back at him, unable to speak. A tsunami of emotion was gathering strength inside her; any moment, it would break over her and any self-control she still possessed would be washed away in the flood. Then it did crash, with a roar that only the rookie Diva could hear, and Ashley felt something inside her give way. Her lips moved, spitting out words that she could barely hear through the throbbing sensation in her head: "Fuck you."
Randy flinched again, his stony expression faltering for an instant. "Ash, listen—" he began, but the Diva Search winner kept talking, her words tumbling out over one another.
"No, you listen, you fucking asshole!" Ashley began to pace, all while staying on her side of the invisible line. "You can't do this! You can't just show up one day with a few roses and expect everything to change! It doesn't work like that!" She paused for a second, taking in a few deep breaths. "I gave you a chance, okay? I gave you a million chances—and every time I tried to get close, you pushed me away. But now, when I've finally found someone else, someone who loves me, you decide to show up and pretend that you care."
"Ash—"
The rookie Diva rushed on, trying to hold back tears of indignation. "I'm with Matt now—I don't know what else I have to say to you to get that through your head. I mean, do I have to start describing our sex life in detail before you'll finally get it? What you and I had—what we could have had—it's over. Don't you understand?"
"Ashley—" Was that a note of irritation in the Legend Killer's voice?
"I mean," Ashley was almost crying at this point, but she didn't stop. Every emotion she had held back, all the pain and suffering she had hidden behind a smile and a quick quip for the last several weeks, was pouring out of her now and there was nothing she could do to deter it. "I'm a fucking human being; I'm not a yoyo! You can't treat me like this—"
Her furious rant ended in a startled yelp as Randy closed the distance between them, grabbing hold of her upper arms and pulling her to him. He leaned down, his face only inches from hers, his azure eyes smoldering. He wanted her; Ashley could see it in his gaze, could feel it in the way he held her. He wanted her—but he was holding himself back with every ounce of self-restraint that he possessed. The Legend Killer leaned even closer, and for one terrifying second, the rookie Diva thought that he was going to kiss her, but instead, he started talking, spitting out each syllable with a tightly controlled fury: "For once, would you please shut up and let me finish a goddamn sentence?"
Ashley was so surprised that her mouth snapped shut. Randy went on, his deep voice husky with emotion. "I know that I'm an asshole, all right? I know that. I treated you like shit, and you deserved a lot better than what I gave you." He hesitated for a second, affording her a second glimpse of the raw pain simmering behind his emotionless expression. "There are…things…in my life…things that I've done…that I can't tell anybody…not even you." His eyes bored into hers again; he almost seemed to be pleading with her. "But I am trying, Ash. I'm trying to make you understand—"
"Understand what?" the Diva Search winner interjected bitterly. "That deep down, you don't care about anyone except yourself? That the only thing that matters to you is your goddamn career, your goddamn legacy?" Her voice cracked again. "That I'm just another Diva to you; just another notch in your belt? That all you want to do is fuck me and—"
She saw the Legend Killer squeeze his eyes shut for a second in pain and stopped, vaguely aware that she might have gone too far. After a moment or two, the rookie Diva continued, her tone slightly gentler this time. "Look, why me, okay? There are a million other girls out there who would kill to be with you—why are you wasting your time with me? I'm just a useless little punk rock chick; what makes me so special?"
"Because you're different!" Randy shot back vehemently. The passion behind those three words was so intense that Ashley had no other recourse but to shut her mouth a second time. The third-generation Superstar continued. "Because when I'm with you…I don't know, it's like things make sense!" Randy glanced down for a moment, lowering his voice. "Look, I'm not a good guy, okay? I've never been a good guy. I'm a piece of shit, and I deserve to be alone. But when I look at you—" He looked up, transfixing her with those blue eyes once more. "I realize that I don't have to be. That I don't want to be." The Legend Killer relinquished his grip on her arms, reaching up to touch her face, resting his palm against her cheek. His touch burned; Ashley could feel it searing her skin. She felt an odd sensation, as though fireworks were exploding in her stomach. Randy was still talking; his mouth so close that his breath caressed her face. "I care about you…and I think, even though I've been a complete shithead, that you feel the same way about me." A pause. "I know you do."
Ashley couldn't speak. Her mouth and brain seemed to have been stricken completely incapable of forming words. The silence stretched out between her and Randy, and with it, the two paths available to her. Here was a chance to follow her heart, to say "Screw you" to everyone else and choose what would make her happy. But could she really do that? To Trish? To Matt? Could she truly turn her back on everyone and everything and forge ahead on her own path?
Besides, even though she had instinctively known from the first moment she had met Randy Orton that she was meant to be with him—who was to say that being with him was the right choice?
Three weeks ago, she had thought that she had finally made her decision. Well, she had been wrong. This was the genuine moment of truth for her, the point where she would have to walk through one door and not just shut the other, but slam it closed.
The Diva Search winner lifted her gaze, once again feeling that sensation of vertigo when her blue-green irises met Randy's azure ones. Her mouth was dry as dust, and it took a second or two before she was able to get the words out. "You always knew how I felt about you—but every time I gave you a chance, you just shut me out."
Randy lifted up his other hand, holding her face between his palms. "Ash, I'm sorry—" he started to say, but the rookie Diva waved her hand, shushing him.
"Please…let me finish." Ashley's voice was quiet, resigned. She took another deep breath. "So if you care about me; if you—"
Love me…
"—care," she finished lamely after a brief pause. "Then you'll prove it by doing something for me."
Randy moved closer, his face right above hers. Another step, and he would be close enough to seal her mouth in a kiss. "Anything." he whispered, and in that single word, Ashley heard everything: all his anguish, his desire—and above all, his hope that somehow, she was his salvation.
The Diva Search winner lowered her lashes for an instant. This was it; she was standing at the edge of the cliff now. One more step, and there would be no going back. She lifted her gaze, meeting Randy's eyes and uttering three short words. And with those three words, she felt her heart shatter into a thousand fragile shards.
"Leave me alone."
The look of shock on the Legend Killer's face was so comical that it would have been funny in any situation other than this. Slowly, he drew his hands back from her face, staring at the rookie Diva with an expression rapidly transforming into disbelief. "What?" he asked, as though he hadn't heard, although it was pretty clear that he had heard every word.
"You heard me," Ashley replied, hoping she could get the words out before she burst into tears. "Leave me alone. No more flowers, no more surprise visits, no more…" She faltered, swallowing hard. "…no more phone calls. You don't know me, I don't know you, and this thing, this relationship—whatever it is—never happened."
Randy was already shaking his head, as though by doing so, he could deny the validity of what he was hearing. "Ashley, please, don't do this—"
"I have to do this!" Ashley felt like she was screaming, even though her voice was barely above a whisper. "I have to…don't you understand? I can't have it both ways! I can't break Matt's heart—and as long as you're still in my life, I'm only going to break his heart!" She gestured at herself. "You say that I deserve better? Well…so does he."
"So…what?" the Legend Killer retorted, his tone bitter. "You're just going to ride off into the sunset with good 'ol Matt Hardy, and forget about what's between us?"
Just hearing Randy's derisive mention of her boyfriend's name made Ashley want to slap him, but she kept her temper in check, settling for glaring defiantly at the former World Heavyweight Champion. "As far as I'm concerned…there's nothing between us."
Randy leaned down, until she felt his lips graze her ear. "Now who's the fucking liar?" the Legend Killer murmured.
For one agonizing second, Ashley wanted to kill him. She literally wanted to rip his heart from his chest, and hold the still-pulsating organ up in front of his face, all while screaming: "See this? This is what it feels like whenever you look at me!" But instead of acting on her murderous urges, she turned her head from his, shying away from his touch. "Whatever. This conversation is over."
She started to sidle around him, but Randy grasped her arm, yanking her back. "No, it's not," he muttered fiercely, and grabbing her face in both hands, he captured her mouth with his.
Ashley wanted to struggle, wanted to break free, but she couldn't; her body was rebelling against her. Instead of struggling, she was kissing him back; instead of pushing him away, she was entwining her arms around his neck, pulling him against her as she returned the kiss. And then Randy was pulling away, his hands still on her face. He was breathing hard, his gaze sweeping across her face. The rookie Diva could feel the sexual tension and desire crackling in the air between them like electricity.
As though he was reading her thoughts, the Legend Killer smiled. "You feel it, too, don't you? What's between us. Don't you get it, Ash? This is more than just a crush." He moved closer, until his mouth was almost touching hers. "You're in this thing as deep as I am…and you don't want it to go away any more than I do."
"But it's going to go away," Ashley was barely aware that she was talking; her head was still spinning from that last kiss. "It's going to go away—because I love him." That was the trump card, the ultimatum, the one thing she knew would end this thing once and for all. Randy visibly flinched, but the Diva Search winner kept going, no longer caring how harsh she sounded, no longer caring how nasty she was being, only knowing that she was tired, she was so fucking TIRED of this—
"You wanted to know, so now you do; I love him." She moved back a step, but only so she could look the Legend Killer in the face. "I love him—and we're going to make it work." Randy looked away. Already, his face was shutting down, his eyes were shutting down, sealing his emotions behind a blank indifferent mask. Instantly, Ashley regretted her choice of words, but she couldn't take it back, not anymore. There was nothing left to do but end it. "This is just a Halloween costume, Randy. I'm not your savior. I can't save you." She peered hard at his handsome face, her blue-green eyes narrowing. "You can't even save yourself."
With that, she knew that there was nothing more to say, so she stepped around the frozen form of the Legend Killer, walking rapidly back down the hallway without looking back. She had nearly reached the end when she heard the crash, as though a stack of chairs had been knocked over. But there was no yell, no cry, no grunt of pain or anger to indicate that a human being had been responsible.
Only silence…
Silence…
Silence…
Randy sank down to the floor, burying his face in his hands. Chairs were scattered around him, the victims of his one-man rampage, but the Legend Killer didn't care. They were inanimate objects; they didn't care. They couldn't feel pain, or heartache…or loss.
He couldn't describe the agony he was feeling right now; it seemed incapable of being expressed in words. The one thing he was sure of was that he had a heart. He'd spent years thinking that he didn't have one, that he was unable to feel, but now he knew for sure that he did have one—because it was being torn to pieces within his chest.
Randy looked up sharply, unsure if he was no longer alone or if his half-crazed mind was merely playing tricks on him. "You happy now, old man?" he demanded to the deserted corridor. "Huh? This what you wanted? Are you happy now, you son of a bitch?" There was no answer—not that he'd really expected one.
The Legend Killer leaned back against the wall, his blue eyes drifting closed once more. "Goddamn you," he whispered, in a voice too exhausted to hold any real malice. "Goddamn you to hell…"
Maria looked up as the locker room door swung open, her face lighting up when she saw that it was Ashley. "That has got to be the world's longest pee," she declared, her mouth curving into a playful smile. Her remark was greeted with silence, and the backstage reporter looked over at the Diva Search winner a second time, her grin fading. "Ash? Are you all right?" Maria's green eyes narrowed, and she peered closely at her friend's face. "Have you been crying?"
"What?" Ashley appeared to have been lost in a trance, but she quickly snapped back to reality. "No, no, This—" She gestured at her face. "I got something in my eye—like an eyelash or something—and I was trying to get it out." The backstage reporter nodded, but still looked unconvinced. The rookie Diva decided to change the subject. "So, you ready to go?"
Maria glanced down at her costume, as though taking a mental inventory of her appearance. "Almost. I just need my halo, and then I'll be all set. Where did I leave it, anyway…" Her last sentence was directed at herself, as the backstage reporter meandered over to the makeup counter.
Personally…Ashley thought to herself. I'd like to get out of this arena, out of this STATE…but I can't. I just have to smile and wave and pretend that my life isn't one giant clusterfuck—
Maria's shriek jarred her back to the present, and Ashley looked over at her friend, frowning in concern. "'Ria? What's wrong?"
The backstage reporter was standing stock-still in front of the makeup counter. One hand gripped her downy white halo, while the other was pressed against her mouth. Ashley glanced at her reflection in the mirror; Maria's eyes were so big that a line of white was visible all the way around her emerald irises.
The Diva Search winner had never seen her friend so terrified, and she hurried toward Maria, her stomach beginning to clench with dread. "'Ria? You're freaking me out—what's going on?"
Slowly, the backstage reporter pivoted around to face her. She still held onto her halo like a security blanket; with the other, she pointed at the bouquet of roses wrapped in green paper. Ashley saw that her arm was visibly trembling. "Ash…your flowers…" Maria seemed incapable of speaking in anything more complex than sentence fragments. Her green eyes fastened on Ashley's, and the rookie Diva saw that they were bright with terror. "They're dead."
A low roar, like the sound of the ocean, rushed past Ashley's ears, and she strode toward the makeup counter, pushing her friend aside to see the evidence for herself. Maria was correct: the roses were dead. Very dead, in fact. The vivid fresh blooms had inexplicably withered into dry brittle shells, their magenta hue now a muddy funereal purple. Hesitantly, Ashley reached out, with fingers that were trembling, and touched one of the blossoms. It instantly crumbled beneath her touch, the petals disintegrating into dust. The Diva Search winner rapidly backed away, biting back the urge to scream.
Maria was talking—"I swear, I picked them up right before you walked in, they were fine"—but Ashley could no longer comprehend the words. Her pulse was racing; any faster and her heart would explode. Everything had suddenly become too loud, too bright and too violent, and the overload of sensation was smothering her. She took a step back, then another, on knees that wobbled violently. Any further movements and she would surely collapse.
As she stood there, seeing but not seeing, understanding but not understanding, she heard the voice again—though whether it came from memory or reality, she no longer knew.
THIS…is only the beginning…
The room began to spin, faster and faster, until she felt like she was trapped at the center of a merry-go-round. Ashley's eyes rolled back into her head, and before Maria could even move to catch her, the rookie Diva fainted.