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"John, what is he talking about?" Alyssa stepped forward in an effort to close the physical space between her and her boyfriend; but when the comfort didn't come, she had to cross her arms.
"I think you should come inside." John held the door and waited for her to move.
There was a strenuous pause in reality where both of them were able to pretend nothing was happening, that everything was the same as it'd been the last few blissful weeks, where Randy and Candy didn't exist. Then, the circumstances slammed right back into thought. Alyssa peeled her gaze away from him as she walked into the stale room. By now, the sun had hid behind a uniform of clouds which dimmed the lighting and cooled their confined surrounding.
Her back was to John when he spoke. "I was with her last night."
Alyssa shut her eyes, feeling worry plant deeper into her brain.
"After work, the guys and I decided to grab a few drinks."
John's voice grew louder with each word, and by the time she opened her eyes, he was already standing in front of her.
"We saw her drunk as hell. She vented about men, and it made me feel bad for stringing her along as a rebound so I took her out to eat."
"And you didn't think this was important to tell me?" Her voice came out much softer than she expected. The palpitations ramming in her chest were growing more convulsive, her outer façade should've been anything but calm. However, her brain was too busy processing this startling information that it made her nearly inaudible.
"I did. I did. That's why I called you, but you didn't pick up."
"You couldn't even leave a voicemail? A text?"
"I wanted to hear your voice when I told you."
"Then how about this morning?"
"You were in such rush to hand out the scripts. I didn't know how to properly tell you."
The anger simmered. Alyssa tightened her crossed arms. "And yet you had enough time to have sex with me."
John clenched his jaw. "I wasn't thinking about Candy when I woke up. I was thinking about you."
"What time did you even get back to me?"
John's blue orbs traveled as he thought of a number. "I-I don't know. I lost track of time."
"I called you back before one."
"And I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I didn't realize my phone was still on silent from the script meeting."
"You were that caught up, huh?"
"Al…" John placed his hands on her elbows, encompassing a large section of her arm, but she didn't move. She didn't budge. The two remained in a stare down.
"I don't understand. I mean… hell, it's Stacy Candy, we're talking about. Do you remember what she tried to do to me and you?"
"I do, and it was my fault."
"Your fault? You did not force her to jump on you. You did not force her to print those sick pictures and send them to me. You did not force her to get information from Randy. You did not force her to get into our business."
"No, I didn't, but the second I let her into my life, I let her into my business. I have to take blame, too."
Alyssa uncrossed her arms, forcing John to release his hold on her. "Look, I'm trying to see where you're coming from, but hearing it from Randy first is just making it even harder."
"That's totally understandable."
"And her of all people? How does the thought of taking her out even cross your mind?"
"It was the guilt."
"But you had to have wanted to feel the guilt for you to even speak to her in the first place."
John opened his mouth, but he realized he had nothing to say. She had a point.
"I don't- I don't think we should talk about this right now. I'm still trying to register what happened."
"Okay. Take as much time as you need." John waited a second, hoping she wouldn't use this as an opportunity to leave, before stepping more into her proximity. He bent at the waist to plant a kiss on the top of her head.
The contact, surprising but comforting in all forms, made her lose all resolve. She closed her eyes again, only this time, to mentally pull herself to John. She didn't want to let this hiccup web her thoughts for the sake of their relationship. No, this situation wasn't the easiest to swallow, but it wouldn't and shouldn't determine the quality of their relationship. It was a mishap.
John nursed her cheek with his palm, and she melted right into it. Her eyes shot open.
"I'm really happy to have you back from work," John said.
"Happy to be back. Are you leaving me for work soon?"
"No, I'm staying right here."
Alyssa, looking up from her shorter height, nodded and moved into his arms. He circled them around her as her dainty scent traveled up his nostrils. He breathed into it, wanting to inhale every bit of her, knowing that together, they had made great strides not only in their good days but in their bad too.
"Hey, John!"
The WWE champion was placing black bands over his naked wrists when he heard faint footsteps jogging towards him. It was now later in the day, and he'd done nothing more than lay in bed with Alyssa for the past few hours. He loved his job, the crowd, and the energy, but at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the web of cotton with the warmth and flesh of his girlfriend. He patted his wrist and shifted his head to eye the speaker who'd called his name just a couple seconds prior. It was Candy. "Hey."
"I wanted to thank you for last night. That was really nice of you to do, especially for me."
John gave her a nod. "You're welcome, Candy."
She shifted more weight onto one foot and looked as if in contemplation or hesitation. "Are you and Alyssa okay?"
John shot her an uneasy look. During their late binge, they hadn't delved into John's love life. He didn't understand why she was bringing it up now.
"I mean, you know, since you ate with me and all. She's okay with it, right? Does she know?"
"She knows. It wasn't the smallest pill to swallow, but we're perfectly fine."
Candy curled her lips into a smile. "Good."
Silence lingered as John ruminated of what to say. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to prolong this conversation. Then, he remembered Randy's visit. "You and Randy?"
"Sam was the woman he was with."
John's lips formed into an O shape.
"I may have overreacted. I may have been too sensitive, but he should've warned me."
"Well, you guys will have to learn how to work it out."
Candy nodded. "Like you and Alyssa do? I agree."
John adjusted the bands around his wrists into a more comfortable fit, sliding one finger to circle inside the perimeter. Then, he removed his belt from a nearby table and slung the heavy combination of leather and metal over his shoulder. "Well, I gotta head to the gorilla."
Candy took a step back to provide room for his coming departure. "Okay. Have fun out there."
"Thank you. Have a good one." John's lips perked into a subtle grin as he began to walk away from the brunette. It wasn't until he took more steps forward when the corners of his lips began to drop. Simultaneously, his strides grew slower and more hesitant until it completely came to a halt.
"Rekindling with an old friend, huh?"
John gripped the belt tighter, feeling the cold metal against his skin. His shoe burrowed onto the ground. "Alyssa, it was an innocent conversation."
She shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure it was."
"By the tone of your voice and the look on your face, I'm not sure if I believe you."
Alyssa pushed the stack of scripts higher on her forearm. "It's just weird seeing that. All of a sudden."
"It has nothing to do with me and you. It's trivial, really. Think of it as an old, ugly scar fading."
"Well, just a few days ago, we weren't even looking at that old, ugly scar."
John dropped his head at the humor and seriousness infused in her tone. He didn't know whether to smile or frown so he opted to kiss her instead. "I gotta get to the ring. I'll see you after, okay?"
"After I finish my work." Alyssa patted his chest before walking off to disperse the load of work in her hands. She looked through the remaining packets, reading over the names before stumbling upon the name most familiar to her. At the bottom of the pile read Randy Orton, and her heart nearly dropped out of her chest. Randy Orton? How? He was grouped with the roster she wasn't in charge of. Then, she realized she must have mixed this stack with Jackie's.
Looking up from the printed letters, she straightened the stack once more and continued to walk with speed and purpose. She was adamant to finish her round so she could watch John perform his segment. And maybe, just maybe, she was just itching to get this impromptu meeting with her former best friend over with. Although their last encounter was fairly recent, it was still brief. He appeared angry, almost possessively protective over Candy, exactly the way he used to be with her. Today, she wasn't sure if he'd direct more anger towards her or if he'd be the warm Randy she used to know.
Alyssa, not wanting to dwell on wonder, raided the arena in her typical quick and efficient manner. She met with superstar after superstar. The more faces she saw, the less scripts she had. By the time there was one left in hand– Randy Orton's– her actions rested on autopilot as her mind plummeted to nerves. She found herself taking the longer route to Randy's locker room, unsure if intended or not, and was soon inevitably face to face with his door. She drew her shaky hand to grip the script, which was already cradled by her other arm, before bringing it to knock.
She waited in anticipation and looked to the floor. Suddenly, she didn't trust the four-inch heels she'd chosen to wear. It was feeling brittle suddenly.
Looking up, she realized the door had opened and there stood Randy with an expression nearly as shocked as hers. He was in his ring attire which exposed too much skin for her liking. The scruff on his face was much thicker than he used to allow, but his skin still glowed just as much.
Alyssa opened her mouth with words that slowly followed. "I got your script."
Randy's eyes fell to the paper over her chest.
She stuck out an arm to hand him the last of her job for the night.
"Thank you," he said. His eyes remained on the paper.
Alyssa, suddenly feeling naked without anything to hold, crossed her arms. Her mind was scattering for her next words but was abruptly stopped when the door closed shut in front of her. No longer was there a bare inked man in her line of vision but a black door. The shock of what happened suddenly became second to the disappointment that succumbed her. Her foot remained in place.
Two or three seconds later, the door flew open.
She brought her eyes to meet Randy's. The expression on his face was unreadable. His mouth was open until it slowly receded into one firm line. She contemplated on asking the default question of 'how are you'– despite his icy stare– but decided against it when he took a step forward.
"Excuse me, I gotta warm up."
Alyssa stepped to the side on instinct, feeling like an intrusion, as the legend killer swiftly moved around her. The black door shut for the second time as the crushing feeling slammed into her for a second round.
Randy couldn't believe what just happened. He was going through his normal schedule when the face and presence of his best friend showed up at his door. Yes, it was for business. Yes, it was part of their job. Albeit those concrete facts, he couldn't rid the image of her face and the way she looked at him and the way her eyes mirrored his own feelings. She missed him. She may even missed him as much as he missed her. And if she hadn't known that, she definitely felt it the moment he opened that door and saw him. He'd known her all his life to read how she was feeling and what that facial expression meant. If she hadn't looked at him like that, this would've been easier. He wouldn't have regretted shutting the door on her face. He wouldn't have opened it for a second time in hopes to stir a conversation he'd denied. He wouldn't have made the stupid excuse to warm up just to retract from her once again. Damn it. She'd made him an indecisive mess. The moment he saw her outside, he knew it would be best to keep it short and simple. He knew it was necessary to keep the wall, to keep the front. He knew she was better off without him. But when he shut the door, he couldn't stop himself from opening it again. There she was, even more prettier than he remembered, and he had to force himself to walk away.
Randy took deep and shallow breaths, his steps fast and heavy. Something as familiar as walking and prepping for a match was failing at keeping his mind off of Alyssa. He was doing fine. He was doing perfectly fine without her and her eyes and that look. His fingers curled to create a fist as thoughts of her continued to swarm him. Faces backstage blurred as he passed each one and every voice melted into one big noise. He continued to walk. He gritted his teeth. His knuckles began to turn white from too much pressure. He soon came face to face with a wall, with no company around him. A second later, he found himself punching the stark white concrete with his bare fist. The contact felt like nothing. It was as if his hands hadn't met the wall, but when he stared at it, blood began to ooze over the pink flesh. He grimaced at the sight and continued to walk. He walked further and further. He ignored everyone that came to sight, including those who expressed concern for his hand. It wasn't until a familiar, warm touch laid over his inked arm when he stopped thinking and walking.
"Randy! Are you okay? What's going on? You're fucking bleeding!" Candy grabbed his hand and examined it in horror.
He, too, looked at it, still feeling nothing.
"What the hell's going on with you?" she asked.
Randy exhaled. He closed his eyes briefly as if summoning any strength he could muster. He allowed more quiet seconds to pass. "What do you do when the best thing you could do for someone is the worst thing you could do for yourself?"
Candy stared at him, unable to comprehend.
Randy, not bothering to wait for an answer, began to pull away, falling back into his robotic trudge along backstage. Meanwhile, Candy watched silently. She didn't know the answer to his question, but she realized that maybe she didn't know Randy Orton at all.
Next chapter is halfway written already, it'll be up sometime next week :) Leave some feedback in the box below, please and thanks! How are you guys feeling about Randy now?
