Sorry for the longer wait again. I promise I'm really trying to get back into the weekly updates.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Portland, Oregon
Juliette Madden had never been a stranger to scars.
The white line of her first was still visible down the length of her shin, nearly twenty years old. She spent her childhood rough-housing with her older brothers and had duly picked up her share of scrapes, the first permanent mark coming from falling out of a tree she'd been chasing Seb up. When Nate carried her home with her leg bleeding and tears rolling down her cheeks, Carol Madden had sworn that she'd put a stop to her daughter being so careless with her brothers. Jet never let that happen. It was impossible to stop her running at breakneck speed out of the door as soon as school finished, ready to get into more trouble.
Wrestling had given her plenty of scars from the first day she'd stepped into training to the most recent on her chin from Wrestlemania. They were rarely from anything serious, the worst being the result of a broken arm that had snapped so spectacularly it required open reduction. The scar left behind wasn't much to look at really, just a faint straight reminder of an incident that had cost her plenty of money and time in the ring.
Then there were the jagged criss-crossing reminders of her years with Kurt. They were the most unsightly scars. Her back was the worst place for them, that had always been his favourite spot to attack. She was somewhat thankful for that; they were in the one place she couldn't stare at all day. Not that she hadn't spent plenty of time in front of mirror, hating herself for every single mark. After coming to terms with what her life had been like and slowly learning to accept that it wasn't her fault, Jet began to ignore them, accepting them as just another part of her.
And finally, there was him. Phil Brooks was by far the worst scar.
He wasn't a line that she could cover with make-up. He wasn't a old reminder of childhood games with her brothers, or of too many risks taken in a ring, or of a situation that she had become proud to escape. He wasn't on her skin, he was under it. He was a deep gnawing pain that refused to alleviate. She thought it would be feeling better by now, if only a tiny bit. She hadn't expected to feel progressively worse each day. It was the worst when there were no shows, she ended up with too much time on her hands. With time to think, she thought about him. Always.
Distractions didn't work. Corey was still adamant that the best distraction was to find somebody new, if only for a couple of weeks. Someone to get her mind off Punk and get her focused on something good again. AJ went the complete opposite direction; she thought it was best for Jet to go through the relationship grieving process without dragging new men into it. She had been stared Jon out of the restaurant as soon as he made the offer for Jet to go to his room, then promptly launched into a tirade about how completely tactless and inappropriate the Ohioan was.
Jet didn't take him up on the offer anyway. The prospect of turning up at his door only for him to laugh and say he was joking wasn't one Jet was going to entertain. Not that she wanted to go to his room anyway. She didn't buy into Corey's 'back on the horse' plan whatsoever. The next best plan for a distraction was booze, Jet's old failsafe. She couldn't be thinking about Punk if she was too drunk to think about anything at all.
That was if she ever got past the people who suddenly wanted to ask her about him. For the first week they all seemed to understand that they should avoid the topic at all costs, but now it seemed fair game.
"He's an ass," Dave insisted.
Jet sighed, holding her phone between her shoulder and ear while she changed the weights on her barbell. She wished she had continued to employ her no phone calls policy while in the gym.
"Yeah," she agreed half-heartedly.
"You're better off without him."
People kept saying that and it definitely didn't seem to be true yet. Maybe after that booze…
"So you're gonna be in LA next week, right?"
"Er, yeah. Flying in on Friday for Summerslam stuff."
"Cool, you wanna grab dinner?"
Jet almost snapped at him that it was his offer of dinner that had been the catalyst in all this, but she managed to rein her frustrations in. "I dunno. I mean, I think I'm gonna be pretty busy. I'll let you know."
She got him off the phone as quickly as possible, just as AJ strolled in to start her work out. "You're up early."
"Hm. Couldn't sleep."
"You haven't been sleeping a whole lot recently."
"I'm fine," Jet assured her best friend, despite knowing she was running on maybe twenty hours of sleep for the whole week. It was a wonder she hadn't passed out yet.
"You can ask Steph for a few days off, y'know? I'm sure she won't mind."
Jet scoffed. Time off was the last thing she needed. Packing her days full of working out and wrestling on the shows was all that was seeming to keep her sane. "I'm good. Quit worrying."
AJ shrugged as she headed for the treadmill, starting up a jog. The two of them worked in silence for a while, AJ still shooting concerned glances over in Jet's direction. She was just waiting for the moment Jet broke down. However, the Brit was more concerned with glancing in the mirror along the back wall, twisting around to stare at the back of her body.
"How can I get an ass?"
"Excuse me?"
"You look like a twelve year old most of the time but your ass is banging. I'm literally flat," Jet whined, bending a little at the waist for a different angle.
"I dunno, looks good to me." Jon announced his arrival with a lecherous grin and a soft smack on Jet's behind. She jumped forward out of the way, swatting back at him.
"Ugh, you again?" AJ groaned. The smaller woman apparently wasn't at all keen on Jon's overtly flirtatious nature with her best friend.
"Me again," Jon confirmed, winking at AJ. "You like me, Half Pint, you can admit it."
"I'd like you if you left her alone."
"I don't see her telling me to leave her alone."
"Her has a name," Jet cut in, waving her hands between the two of them, "And her would prefer if you two could keep your bickering to a minimum while I'm trying to work out."
"Tell him to leave you alone then," AJ retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.
Jet rolled her eyes. Honestly, she didn't want to; Jon's easy-going teasing made her days better. "Jon, for the sake of April's sanity, can you please refrain from being vulgar in her presence?"
It wasn't exactly what AJ wanted, but it was the best she was getting.
"Well damn, there goes my fun."
Chicago, Illinois
He didn't know what name to put to what he was feeling. Jealousy? Anger? Regret? All of it, combined in a tight bundle in his chest.
It had been Colt who first brought the pictures of his attention. He tried being delicate about it, but Punk was in no mood for delicate. He had been in no mood for anything at all since he got back from Los Angeles. He finally snapped and just demanded Colt spit it out, at which point Cabana had showed him the photos on Twitter of Jet out on what looked to be a date with one of the newest NXT talents, Fergal Devitt.
He shouldn't have, but Punk had to go through every single one of them, carefully studying body language and facial expressions. She was uncomfortable, he knew that. He could see it written all over her in the way she smiled tightly and angled her body slightly away from the Irishman. As he went through the pictures, she gradually eased up but only to smile at Devitt, not moving any closer. It was the same smile she showed to AJ and Claudio. It wasn't the smile she'd always saved for him. It wasn't the smile she flashed him when she woke up on his chest, or when he finally relented and let her put a Disney movie on. There was clearly nothing between her and Devitt.
It was in that moment that Punk realised he'd seen the same uncomfortable look on her face before – around Dave.
He must have been blind not to notice it before. Blind or stupid, maybe both. She always had that look around Dave, the look that said she wasn't entirely sure about him. Maybe she didn't even know it herself, but now that Punk had seen these pictures, he could recognise it. He dragged his hand down his face, sighing heavily as the full weight of how badly he had fucked up washed over him. He needed to tell her that, tell her he knew. He had his phone in his hand before he knew what was happening.
I know how wrong I was and I just hope you can forgive me. I love you.
He had promised AJ he wouldn't do it, but he couldn't help himself. Jet didn't have to read it, after all. Hell, she might even have already blocked his number by now if her unfollowing him on Twitter was any indication. His heart soured when he saw the little 'Delivered' change to 'Read 15:04'. One text wasn't going to fix things, but just knowing that she was still willing to hear from him, even just through text, reignited Punk's hope.
Portland, Oregon
"Brock!" Jet yelled, swinging helplessly from the rings in the gym.
She and AJ had gone to have lunch and then Jet wanted to return to her work out. AJ agreed to keep her company in the gym, but there was no way she was breaking that kind of sweat again. AJ was just surprised that Jet even wanted to go back; it was hard enough to get the younger woman into the gym once a day, let alone more than that. Maybe she had underestimated just how badly Jet wanted a distraction.
The Beast looked over from where he was benching an insane amount of weight, and smirked at Jet's predicament. She had insisted to him that she'd be able to do her pull-ups from the higher set of gymnastic rings, but it was clear that her arms were barely keeping her hanging. She was too nervous to drop to the floor; after the work out she'd just put herself through, she knew her legs wouldn't hold out. She wasn't going to risk an injury.
"Yes?" Brock asked innocently.
"Come get me down."
"Drop."
"No, it'll hurt."
"You're a baby."
"Broccoli, come on," Jet pouted, drawing a grin from AJ who was still sitting in the corner of the gym on her phone.
The big man's face immediately fell into a heavy frown. "You call me that one more time and I'll leave you hanging there for a week."
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, just come let me down!"
AJ shook her head as she chuckled, watching Brock finally set down his weights and head over to the rings. He stood underneath Jet's flailing body, letting her drop down onto his back.
"Gonna carry me back to the hotel, Broccoli?"
"What did I just tell you?"
"That you love me?"
Brock rolled his eyes. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Because I can read and write Ancient Egyptian." The blank stare from her fellow Heyman client made Jet shake her head. "You've never seen The Mummy?"
"No."
"Damn man, that's sad." Jet slid down onto the floor, feeling the burn in the back of her thighs. "Remind me to not work out again for the rest of the year."
"Sure," AJ agreed, tossing a towel towards her friend. "Your phone is buzzing."
Jet towelled off her face and slung it around her shoulders while digging through her gym bag. Her phone had a text waiting for her and Jet's heart nearly stopped when she saw the name.
"If that's Jon, tell him to fuck off," AJ muttered.
Jet ignored her, swiping her thumb across the screen to open the text.
I know how wrong I was and I just hope you can forgive me. I love you.
Forgive him… Jet had forgiven him already. She couldn't still feel like this about him without forgiving him; she knew he hadn't meant what he had said. The problem was that Jet just couldn't forget. She couldn't forget how he'd made her feel that night and she couldn't let herself feel like that again. She was on a constant pendulum swing of being afraid to give him that chance, and being completely unable to let him go.
"Well?" AJ asked. "Is it Jon?"
Jet cleared her throat, noticing Brock looking in her direction. She forced up a smile for both of them. "Er, no. It was my brother." She shoved her phone back into her bag and tried to push down the knot that was back in her chest.
"I'll have whatever," Jet shrugged.
"Diet Pepsi it is," AJ nodded.
"I got you," Joe laughed, patting Jet on the shoulder as he made his way to the bar. When he returned he deposited a rum and Coke in front of her, earning himself a broad grin and wink.
"You know me so well."
"Oh, for Christ's sake," AJ muttered under her breath.
Jet glanced up to see what had annoyed her and quickly got her answer. Jon slid into the spare space beside Jet with a smirk and a wink thrown at AJ. Jet couldn't help grinning.
"What is your malfunction?" AJ demanded. "Are you actually physically incapable of staying away from her for a fucking day? Seriously?"
Jet took several large gulps of her drink, trying to keep out of it.
"Can you blame me?" Jon shot back. "She's just so pretty and smells so good." He leaned in to sniff at Jet's hair, deliberately playing up to the idea AJ had of him. "Wait, you do actually smell really good. Is that coconut?"
Jet tugged her head away. "Yeah, now you really are being a little creepy."
"Jesus, a guy can't get any love around here."
"I'll give you plenty when I've had a few, I'm sure," Jet remarked. She had a habit of being an over-friendly drunk.
"Ooh, I'm taking that as a promise."
The Brit blushed while AJ made a show of fake vomiting. "How much do I have to pay you to go away and never come back?"
"More than you could afford, sweetheart."
"I will sell a kidney on the black market if that's what it takes," AJ muttered.
She had nothing against the guy, she really didn't, but she didn't appreciate him zoning in on her best friend while Jet was still clearly grieving the end of her relationship. Jet needed time to figure out what she wanted without someone like Jon Good in the way.
Jet felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced down at the screen to see Colt's name flashing and quickly drank down the last of her glass. "You two discuss your differences while I take this outside, okay?"
Neither of them paid much attention, both too interested in throwing tense glares at the other. Jet rolled her eyes as she began to push her way through the crowded club, heading for the relative quiet outside. She leaned against the brick of the building, sighing before she finally answered.
"Hi."
"Take your time, kid."
"Sorry. It was loud inside. What's up, Colt?"
"Nothing, just checking in. How you doing?"
Pretending that he was just calling in passing wasn't going to work on her. "I'm fine. So, what did you actually want?"
Colt sighed. "He's miserable, Jet."
"Nothing I can do about that."
"Of course you can. I'm not saying you have to forgive him or get back together or whatever, but can you just talk to him? Call him or something?"
"No," she stated firmly and clearly. "I'm trying to get over him, Colt. Calling him will just make it worse for me."
"He's my best friend, Juliette, and I can't do anything for him. He hasn't left the house since he got back from LA. He just… he hates himself. He won't even tell me what really went down but I can see the guilt eating him up."
That sent a shot of pain through Jet's chest. She didn't want him to be like that. "Tell him to stop that. I don't hate him so he shouldn't."
"That sounded pretty final. So I guess that definitely means no phone call?"
"Sorry," Jet murmured. She couldn't do it. There was no way she'd manage hearing his voice with the way she was feeling.
"Alright, well… if you change your mind I'm sure he'd love to hear from you any time. Be happy, kid, yeah?"
"Yeah," Jet agreed half-heartedly. Happy seemed a long way away. Just getting by alone was her main concern.
"I'll tell him what you said," Colt promised.
"Thanks. See ya around."
After hanging up, Jet had to stay outside for a few moments, tapping her fingers on the brick just to give her hands something to do. She didn't know what to do with the information Colt had given her; Punk sounded as miserable as she was while they were apart but getting back together would only make them worse.
"Goddammit," she muttered to herself just before pushing back through the door. The table had more people sitting around it now, all of them looking up to watch Jet head back.
"You okay?" Jon asked, noting the look on her face.
"I have tooth ache," Jet replied, deflecting away from her phone call. It wasn't a lie, her tooth had been aching for a couple of days.
"Go to the dentist," AJ advised.
"Yeah, yeah, as soon as I've got time. I need another drink."
Jon's hand had settled on Jet's thigh almost an hour ago and she wasn't at all inclined to move it. She had thought that maybe AJ would have violently removed it on Jet's behalf, but AJ had settled on shooting killer looks in Jon's direction. The glares were thankfully gone while AJ was in the bathroom.
"I need a drink," Jet repeated for probably the twelfth time that night. She'd gone way too hard on the booze, but it had served its purpose – she wasn't thinking about Punk anymore. Actually, all she was thinking about was how close Jon was and how good he smelled. She gently placed his hand back in his own lap and moved to stand up. Her legs almost gave out, dropping her unceremoniously back into her chair.
"Okay, I think it's home time for you," Claudio said gently, laying his hand on Jet's arm from across the table.
"No, I don't wanna!"
"I think he's right, sweetcheeks," Jon agreed. "You've had a few. Come on, I'll take you back."
"Are you sure?" Claudio asked, lifting his eyebrow slightly. He'd seen Jon leaning in close to Jet all evening – along with their growing friendship over recent weeks – and wasn't entirely sure he should trust the Ohioan with just getting Jet home.
"Yeah. I've only had a couple, I can be a responsible adult. I'll walk her to the hotel and be right back."
"Alright," Claudio agreed, somewhat reluctantly.
Colby looked between all three of them, the same look of hesitation on his face. He waited until Jon had Jet nearly to the door before he caught up with the two of them, grabbing Jon's arm to halt him in place. "Hey, don't do anything stupid, okay?"
"I'm not gonna do anything," Jon stressed. "None of you people trust me. Like I said, I'm gonna take her home and then I'll be right back."
"Okay. Just remember that AJ will kill you in the slowest and most painful way possible."
Jon chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, I know."
"Can we go?" Jet demanded, dragging the last syllable out over several seconds and quickly changing her tune from only just not wanting to leave. "I'm tired!"
"Alright, alright, we're going. Come on, sunshine, start walking."
Barely two minutes after the two of them left the club, AJ reappeared from the bathroom, glancing around the table and then out at the dance floor. "Where's Jet?"
"She was drunk so Jon took her back to the hotel," Claudio replied.
"Are you insane? You sent a drunk woman home with him?"
Claudio shrugged. "He's just taking her back, that's all."
"Yeah, I'm sure," AJ scoffed. "God, I should go after them."
Claudio caught her arm, smiling calmly at her. "He promised, and I trust his word. She'll be fine."
AJ sighed but sat down. Claudio was usually a solid judge of those sort of things. "If she's inconsolable in the morning, all the blame is on you."
The walk back to the hotel didn't take long usually, but with a very drunk woman hanging off his shoulder Jon was finding it much more difficult. Jet had wrapped herself around his side, smiling goofy up at him the entire way while paying zero attention to where her feet were moving. Being that close to someone else felt good, especially with the continuous feeling of loneliness that had taken up residency in her chest since leaving Los Angeles. She mumbled the whole way back, things that Jon wasn't even sure were coherent. He got something of a stern stare from a man in the lobby when he led Jet through to the elevator, but couldn't take too much time telling the old guy to mind his own business while trying to keep her upright. Getting her into her room and onto the bed felt like an Olympic achievement.
"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked softly, heading to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water.
Jet nodded, the goofy grin still spread right across her face. She was staring intently at him and Jon almost felt like he should look away. He glanced down to his feet for a second, then met her eyes again. Her expression had changed to a slight squint, as if she was trying to make her drunken mind think too hard.
"You sure you're doing alright, darlin'?"
"I'm okay. Just thinking."
"About?"
"If it's a super bad idea to kiss you right now."
Jon paused as he set down the glass of water, watching Jet's face for any indication that she was joking. She looked nothing but sincere. He knew he shouldn't – he knew he'd get absolutely killed for it by at least three different people – but the curiosity was getting to him too. It had been for years, since seeing her in Florida.
"How are you gonna know if it's a bad idea unless you do it?" he asked, perching himself on the edge of the bed. Jet sat up straight, bringing herself almost level with him.
"You're a bad influence," she slurred.
Jon didn't have a chance to say anything else. Jet snaked her hand around to the back of his neck, pulling him forward. It was gentle to begin with, soft pressure clearly born from uncertainty. Jon leaned forward more, pressing them closer so he could tease her lips open. If this was his one chance, he wasn't going to waste it.
From there, everything progressed rapidly. He was tasting every inch of her mouth while Jet moaned into him. Her hands started to slide under Jon's shirt and he could feel himself getting a little too interested. With more willpower than he thought he had, he pulled away from her. He was almost immediately enticed back in by her clearly disappointed pout.
"You're drunk," he reminded her, gently removing her hands from his abs. "You don't wanna be doing that."
She didn't argue, thankfully. Jon wasn't sure he'd have the strength to walk away if she really tried to convince him. "Yeah…" she murmured. "Thanks."
Jet let herself fall back onto her pillow, still watching him curiously. "You gonna go to sleep now?"
"Yeah, think so."
"Good. Make sure you drink some of that water, alright?" He pushed it a little closer to the bed before leaning down to gently kiss Jet's forehead. "Goodnight darlin'."
He stayed until she settled in, electing to sleep in the clothes she'd been out in. Once she was almost asleep Jon carefully and quietly slipped out of the door, making his way back to the club. He had barely made it back to their table before Colby zeroed in on him, shooting him a disapproving glare.
"You promised you wouldn't do anything."
"I didn't," Jon shrugged.
"You have lipstick on your mouth."
"I didn't do that, she kissed me."
"Yeah, I'm sure you were fighting her off."
"I'm here, aren't I? I could have taken advantage and slept with her, but I put her to bed and came back here."
Colby lifted an eyebrow. "You want credit for not being a rapist?"
"No, I want you to get off my case." Jon didn't let his best friend say anything else, heading straight for the bar for another drink. While he waited for his whiskey, Jon pressed his thumb to his lips, still tasting the remnants of her. He grinned to himself, knowing his curiosity hadn't been remotely sated.
Yes? No?
