Mark fidgeted in his locker room. Tonight was the big match between him and Lee and he was suffering from a large case of nerves. It didn't help any that Chris and Randy had stopped by to 'wish Mark luck' with his match. If Glen hadn't of been there Mark was certain that he would have planted his fist in Randy's face when he sneeringly said that the locker room would miss him. Mark jumped when he felt Glen's hands on his shoulders, the thumbs working on the tight muscles between the blades. With a serene smile spread over his lips and he reached up and placed his hand on Glen's, rubbing his thumb in a circle on the satiny skin on the back of Glen's hand.
"It's going to be fine, you're better than Lee." Glen said as he moved around to stand in front of Mark.
"I know that."
"Then why are you nervous. I've never seen you this nervous before." Glen straddled Mark's hips, holding Mark's head between his hands.
"It's just that, any man can beat another man on any given night." Mark said; repeating what he'd heard JR say over and over again over the years. "I know I'm better than Lee, that I have more control over my moves and emotions. But Randy and Chris are going to be skulking around the ring side area, I can feel it."
"So what if they are? If they interfere then Lee will be disqualified and you win." Glen shrugged his shoulders, his eyes searching Mark's in an attempt to see if Mark telling him the truth or if he was lying to him.
"That's if they hit me. But if they hit him then I'm going to be disqualified and then I have to go to RAW." Mark placed his hands over Glen's, his green eyes wavering as a sheen of tears built in them.
"Then I'm going to be ringside to keep it from happening." Glen said resolutely as he got off Mark's lap and hurriedly started to pull on his ring gear.
Mark's lips kicked up into a half smile as Glen worked the stretchy fabric of his black a-shirt over his torso; licking his lips as he imagined peeling it off of Glen later. He brought out of his fantasy when he heard Glen yelp; looking up he seen Glen holding an eyeliner and glaring at himself in the mirror.
"You alright there?"
"Yea."
Mark rolled his eyes and got up from the couch, sauntering over and taking the coal liner from Glen's hand; batting it away when Glen tried to get it back.
"Hold yer horses. I'm just gonna do this for you."
"And what do you know about putting on eyeliner?" Glen huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"More than you could forget in a lifetime." Mark retorted with a grin. "Now shut yer eyes for me."
Glen did as he was told and Mark bit his bottom lip as he ran the pencil evenly over the top lid and bringing it just a little way out from the eye. He did the other one and asked Glen to open his eyes and look up, gently running the deep onyx color half way under the eye. When he was done he smudged it a little with his index finger then moved back, studying his handiwork with a smirk. He recapped the liner and handed it back to Glen before going back and dropping down on the couch.
"Where'd you learn to do that?' Glen asked as he peered in the mirror at himself, taken aback at how the slight smudging gave his blue eyes a smoky quality.
"I told you, I know more about that then you could ever hope to forget."
"Seems to me that you know a lot that you're not telling me."
"Glen, even if I was hiding something—which I'm not—you wouldn't believe me."
A knock on the locker room door halting anything that Glen was going to say and he glared slightly at Mark before pulling the heavy metal door open. On the other side Brielle stood, dressed to the nines in her GM clothing. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant coif with curled tendrils hanging next to her face. She stepped into the room and ran her eyes over Mark quickly before speaking.
"You know how big a night this is…."
"Listen here Ms. McMahon, I know what needs to be done, you don't have to worry about that." Mark butted in as he stood.
"With your track record I think I have more than enough to worry about." She bit out as she noticed what Glen was wearing for the first time. "Why are you dressed to compete, you have no part in this show tonight."
"He's coming to ring with me." Mark growled.
"Who approved that?"
"I did."
"You don't have that authority." She hissed, turning her burning gaze over to Glen. "Get undressed and leave the arena."
"No, he stays. He's going to be ringside with me to keep any unwanted interference at bay. That is unless you want me to go to RAW, therefore putting that show up higher when it comes to talent."
Brielles' mouth flopped open wordlessly. With a grin Mark moved over so that they were toe to toe, his eyes flickering. He brought one large hand up and grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back so that their eyes were locked.
"M-Mr. Calaway…" She stuttered, her heart beating triple time in her chest. "L-Let me go before I call security."
"Do it little girl, have me hauled outta here so that I forfeit the match and get sent to RAW."
Brielle swallowed convulsively, tears springing to her eyes from the pressure but she didn't let them fall—there was no way that she was going to let Mark see her weakness. His lips curled into a smile and he released her hair, his eyes glittering in the light. Brielle took a step back, massaging the back of her head as she glared at Mark, her pride welling to the surface.
"Mr. Calaway…"
She didn't get any further; a knock sounded on the door followed by a stage hand calling Mark's name. With a satisfied smirk he pushed past her, Glen following him with a mumbled 'sorry' before the door shut on him. For a few moments, Brielle stood pulling in deep breaths; trying to calm her senses. But it was of no use, just as she got them under a small amount of control she heard her name being called over the loudspeakers by Stephanie. Wondering what she wanted, Brielle grabbed a mic and sauntered out onto the stage; plastering a Vince worthy scowl on her face. In the ring Stephanie stood between Mark and Lee, a large smile stretched across her face.
"Did you forget how to start a match?" Brielle shot at her; folding her hands across her chest.
"No, but I did forget to mention one other little detail when we ironed out this match, sister dear."
"And what's that?" Brielle frowned; not liking the sense of dread that was creeping slowly up her spine.
"If Mean Mark loses tonight, then not only is he coming to RAW but you're going to have to marry him."
"And if Undertaker loses?" Brielle bit out, her defenses rising.
"Then he goes to SmackDown and I have to marry him."
"Well," Brielle paused, smirking at Stephanie. "Looks you'll be marrying a loser no matter the outcome of the match."
Stephanie let out an offended screech and Brielle dropped her mic to the stage and stalked back, her mind whirling faster and faster with each beat of her heart. Soon the rapid beating blotted out all the other noises and Brielle felt as if she was floating. She dimly felt falling backwards and the last thing her eyes seen was a blurry smear of dark hair and intense eyes.