Still moving along at that slow but sure pace. Thanks once again to morrowsong and Idcam for the reviews.
Kevin made his way hastily to Scott's room. First, he tried knocking. "Yo, Scott. It's me. Open up," his bass voice called from the outside of the door. The door remained shut and there was no answer on the other side. Inserting the key, Kevin opened the door to the dimly lit room. The curtains were drawn tight and even though it was still somewhat daylight out, his eyes needed to adjust to the darkness. He moved into the room and let the door close behind him. "Scott?" he called out again to no response as he began moving across the room. His foot kicked an object and there was the sound of empty aluminum as it skittered across the floor. Another step and he heard a crunching under his foot. He knew dreadfully well, but he had hoped against it.
His vision acclimating to the dim surroundings, Kevin could see that the floor was littered with a few dozen beer cans and there was even a drained Vodka bottle that lay on its side near the bed. His eyes shifted to the bed, and there was Scott. He was shirtless, lying on his stomach and hanging haphazardly half off the bed. His dark, curly hair was unkempt, falling loosely over his face.
No. Just No. A hand on his hip, Kevin raked the other through his thick hair apprehensively. "Dude, Scott. What are you doing?" Kevin asked and forcefully kicked at the mattress with his foot, rattling it. He was met with a gurgling groan in response and was relieved that Scott was at the very least, still conscious, if not coherent. "You got a match, bro. Are you trying to get yourself fired?"
"She won't talk to me," Scott garbled in a scratchy tone. "I fucking love her and she hates my guts! She used me." With what appeared to be great effort, Scott lifted his head slightly. "Just like that bitch, Dana," he spat.
Kevin winced at the mention of Scott's ex-wife. Ouch. He was truly in a bad way. Then he had to rewind Scott's babbling inside his brain and he did not like his conclusion. "Just like that bitch, Dana." Christ on a cross. It wasn't his ex-wife he was lying there pissing and moaning over. It was Reves.
Reves fucking Calaway. He could not be serious. Had he really just declared that he was in love with that little wench? In his inebriated state, Kevin sincerely hoped that it was the alcohol talking, but he had a good sense for his buddy's state of mind under these conditions.
The larger man heaved a sigh. That explained why she was even more deflective than usual when he spoke to her. Scott had mentioned that night that they had an argument, but he never revealed the extent of what it was about. It was like Scott had fallen off the face of the Earth after that. So this is what he had been up to, drowning his sorrow and depression with one drink after another. Kevin had not witnessed him this bad off since his divorce became final a few years ago. That was completely scrutable. He had lost the woman he'd spent nearly a decade married to. Yet, he had known this girl all of a few months and this is what he was reduced to, all because of her? Did this broad have a golden pussy or something?
Nash rubbed his hands over his face. He had seen this coming from miles away. He knew the girl was bad news and Scott would be the one to pay the piper. He just hadn't realized how hard his buddy had fallen for her. He almost believed Scott would never let another woman get close to him after his divorce. Sure, he had his little rendezvous, but that was it. Kevin thought that was what Reves Calaway would amount to someone he would have fun with for a few months, then break it off as cleanly as possible. That was how Scott liked to do it.
Who was he shitting? He had hoped that was what it amounted to. He had seen from day one the way Scott looked at her. It was the same way she appeared to look at him, but he supposed she simply had a convincing poker face – conniving was more like it. The situation only became exacerbated once the Calaway sisters were added to their little group. Another brilliant scheme that was sure to backfire eventually, and leave them all fucked.
Unfortunately for him, Nash couldn't think of one sister without the other. His mind shifted to the raven-hair girl who was practically still cutting teeth compared to him. She was a major pitfall for sure.
He needed to stop. This wasn't about him, or the little one. Hell, it wasn't even about Reves, really. At that moment, it was about the fact that Scott was scheduled to appear on television and he was in no condition to perform. Kevin felt that sinking feeling in his gut and shook his head. This was going to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Scott's job was hanging by a thread, especially after that hellacious plane ride coming back from that European tour a couple of weeks ago. In no uncertain terms, Vince made it quite transparent that if Scott no-showed, he would be canned. In the same token, if Scott appeared in this condition, he would surely suffer the same fate. It seemed as if he was fucked seven ways to Sunday and Kevin could do nothing about it.
Fuck that. He had come here to drag Scott's ass out of the Inferno and that's what he was going to do. He was going to try at the very least. If he had to pull Scott through every circle of Hell, he would, but they had to take it one step at a time. First things first, he had to get Scott to the arena. They still had a couple of hours before the show. Perhaps they could manage to sober him up to be partially functional for television. He'd like to think the effort had to count for something. After that, Scotty required help beyond what he could offer him. There was a chance he would even refuse help, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it.
"We'll talk about her later buddy," Kevin told him when he finally spoke, "Right now, we have to get you to the building, okay? You know Vince is already having a shit-fit." Kevin stewed over just how livid Vince would be with all of this, but he couldn't dwell on it. He reached down, pulling his friend into an upright position.
Scott could scarcely sit up on his own, but threw his head back, looking up at the larger man. "Will ya get 'er to talk to me?" he slurred pathetically.
Kevin gave a sigh and shrugged. "I don't know that she'll listen to a damn thing I have to say," he said to Scott earnestly as he recalled how she had shut him down little more than an hour prior. Scott knew damn well that he and Reves were like oil and water, so this was unequivocally the plea of a genuinely desperate man.
Kevin rummaged through Scott's suitcase for a shirt. He had to aid his friend in putting it on and he wondered how much success they were going to have in delivering Scott to the arena, much less getting him in a state to be able to wrestle. Kevin was beginning to question his design as he tied the other man's hair back. He grabbed Scott's duffle bag with his gear and hauled him up off the bed.
Deep down, he knew Scott wouldn't be wrestling tonight, but he didn't want to think of the consequences of that. He didn't want to ponder all the catalysts that had led to this situation. He only tried to focus on getting Scott from point A to point B and whatever happened after that was anybody's guess. His buddy was fucked and it was entirely unfair.
Getting to the arena was a chore and a half. Scott was unstable and had both of them stumbling like newborn foals as Kevin tried to assist him. When they finally made it to the locker room Kevin deposited Scott onto the couch. He huffed, pushing his hair out of his face as Paul Wight came in.
Paul looked at Scott wilted over on the couch. "Oh damn. He is fucked up, isn't he?" the giant asked.
"I don't know what the hell to do," Nash admitted, shaking his head in exasperation.
"Hey yo. I'm right here you pricks," Scott chimed in. He looked up at his best friend. "Kev, go get 'er. I need to talk to 'er," he whined but pounded his fist on the arm of the couch.
Nash rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyeballs. This was one grand mistake. "No! You're not talking to her in this state," he bellowed down at the other man. "You know full well she doesn't want to talk to your drunken ass, anyway."
The expression on Scott's visage couldn't mask how deep Kevin's words had cut although his features twisted with indignation. "What do you know? You're just a miserable asshole anymore."
Kevin let out a snort. He was the miserable asshole while Scott was laid up in his hotel, getting shit plastered and simpering over some broad? Glaring back at his friend, Kevin didn't welcome the emotions that swept over him. His chest rattled as a certain tiny demure girl invaded his mind. No, he couldn't go there. He had to keep any thoughts of her at bay. If he were honest, he would have to acknowledge that he identified with Scott's disposition more than he was permitted to confess.
Kevin's face softened as his anger dissipated. Damnit, buddy, we're in the same boat here, he wanted to divulge. He may have no love loss for Reves, but he understood the inner turmoil Scott was living with. He understood volumes more than he wished to.
Paul had been standing there during their exchange, his attention alternating between the two of them in bewilderment. "Who are you guys talking about?" he asked Kevin with genuine curiosity.
"No one," he said at the same time that Scott blurted out, "Reves."
Paul's eyes nearly popped from his head. "No way! You're shacking up with her?" he asked Scott incredulously.
You idiot, Kevin glowered down at Scott. "Not anymore," he said with an air of finality.
"No, we just had a little tiff. That's all," Scott argued through narrowed eyes.
A little tiff. Sure. His buddy was drunk and delusional. Recalling the way Reves had reacted to their earlier conversation regarding Scott, it was clear they were not going to patch things up any time soon.
That nagging voice then came to the back of his skull, reminding him that he was just as delusional where the little one was concerned. He didn't want to entertain the thoughts of his own folly so he shoved them away once more.
"Oh man," Paul chortled in his rumbling voice, "Mark is gonna kill you when he finds out."
Kevin didn't find that the least bit comical. "He's not going to find out about it because we are through discussing this shit and nothing more is going to be said. Is that fucking clear?" he growled at the other seven-footer.
"Jeesh, man calm down. It was just a joke," Paul said throwing his hands up.
"It's not a joke when his job is on the damn line." Kevin knew he was taking it out too much on Paul, but there were very few people who could speak a certain way about Scott. Paul was a very good friend but he just wasn't quite in that circle. Kevin sighed. "I'm going to go find him some coffee or something. Do you mind keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"
"Oh, so I gotta be the babysitter now?" Paul feigned annoyance. "Sure thing man."
Kevin met his eyes and there was an understanding. "Thanks, brother."
Making his way towards the catering area, Nash slowed when he was met with a rather unpleasant view which caused a bitterness to bubble up inside him. Standing there, just down the hall was the little one, and who else was there with her? None other than Kid, of course. He knew Kid had been chomping at the bit for him to leave so he could approach her. Had they been talking and hanging out the entire time? Nash wondered how she regarded Kid. The sight before him did nothing to quell his envy as she smiled down at her shoes and tucked a tress of violet-ebony hair behind her ear, revealing the bright flush tinting her cheeks.
Kevin could almost feel himself becoming just as red, only with ire. Thankfully, in the next instant his sense kicked in and he reproached himself for his impetuous reaction. She is not yours. She made that crystal clear. You have no right to be pissed about this. In spite of those affirmations, Kevin still could not help from injecting himself into their conversation. "Oh, so what is this? A private meeting in the middle of a very public hallway?" he probed in a derisive manner.
After leaping nearly half a foot in the air, the demure girl jerked her head to gape up at him. Her doe eyes widened incredulously as she stared at him. Kevin gazed back at her and he wished that he was met with the same hypnotic adoration that she seemed to carry just moments after he had kissed her. On the contrary, the expression painting her countenance appeared to suggest that he was Satan in the flesh. As was her habitual flighty custom, she turned to dash away rather than endure the slightest ounce of scrutiny from the goliath.
Alas, she had only retreated three or four steps when Mark had rounded the corner and called out to her in his gruff voice, "Heather! Where the hell is Reves?"
The petite girl halted, cursing her misfortune. "I…I h-haven't the faintest clue. I have not known her whereabouts since she had left the catering vicinity earlier." She muttered meekly.
"What girl?"
"I do not know," she repeated raising her voice ever so slightly.
"Well, what the hell are you up to then?"
"Uh, I w-was on my way t-to Make-up…" That was an honest fact – until she had crossed paths with Sean. Truthfully, she had welcomed his interlude even if it was only brief. She rather detested having to go to Make-up. She needn't a reminder as to how glamorous and desirable all the other women on the roster were compared to her. She shook her head. Why was she once again concerning herself with such frivolous matters? Previously she had never given such consideration to her appearance or the manner in which others perceived her.
Mark's gaze shifted from his daughter to the two men that were present, his eyes narrowing as his scowl fell upon them. "And what are you two doing over here? Isn't your locker room on the other side of the arena?" His inquiry was only mildly accusatory, but everyone was a dubious character where it concerned his daughters.
Sean stood there dumbfounded, not saying anything. Oh shit, was Mark going to kick his ass?
Nash glanced down at his friend. He could easily throw Kid under the bus here. What's more, a large part of him wanted to. Damn, he really had become a prick towards his buddies, hadn't he? That was beside the point. No way was he going to allow Kid to try and get his grubby paws all over the little girl. If he wasn't any good for her – which he knew he wasn't – Kid was ten times worse.
As strongly as he wanted to put Kid in his place, it was second nature to go to bat for his friends, no matter what they had done. "We were just heading to get some coffee for Scott. He's in a bad way and needs to sober up," Nash said solemnly, not bluffing at the last part.
"He actually made it?" Mark asked astonished.
"With some help." There was no point in hiding that fact.
"He's really going to fuck himself over. I'm going to have a talk at him," Mark declared as he started down the hall, the other two men following. "Come on girl," he called back to Heather, "I'm gonna walk you to Make-up, seeing that you were headed in the opposite direction." He gave her a seemingly knowing glance.
Nash wasn't keen on Mark insisting on talking with Scott. He was not in the frame of mind to have a logical conversation. Worse yet, if Scott went on moaning over Reves to Mark, they'd all be royally fucked. Nevertheless, he held his poker face as he listened to Mark talk.
Heather frowned and lamented internally, meandering several feet behind them. She had to will herself to move forward as she tried to focus on the conversation the men were having, but the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears made comprehending their words arduous. She wasn't certain that she could keep it together, so to speak and she pondered how Kevin could behave in such an apathetic manner. She supposed he had no choice really but he seemed too adept at pretending as if nothing had happened between them. It was merely one silly kiss, you foolish girl. People do so all the time and it means nothing at all, she reprimanded herself.
As it was on the way, Mark deposited Heather at the hair and make-up room where she reluctantly climbed into the chair with a sulking visage. "I'll come back to get you. I don't need you disappearing on me too," Mark informed her. That was precisely what she wished to do as she grudgingly removed her glasses and placed them on the vanity.
When the men began walking away, a stagehand approached Mark. "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Taker," he began nervously. He was a young guy and appeared to be new as none of the men had seen him before. "But Mr. McMahon needs to speak with you for a few minutes," he continued quietly. Nearly everyone was apprehensive around Mark, whether he was in a foul mood or not. People just didn't mess with him.
What could McMahon possibly want now? Mark wondered, but told the young fellow, "I'll be there in a few then." With that, he left with hardly so much as a nod to the other men.
Kevin breathed a sigh of relief as Mark left, not miffed in the slightest that he barely acknowledged them. Once the other giant was out of earshot, he whipped around to address Kid. "What the hell's wrong with you? Didn't I tell you to let her be?" he demanded of his friend through gritted teeth.
"What? Everything was going fine until you came along and scared her like a giant douchebag," Kid insisted stubbornly.
Kevin had been actively ignoring her reaction to him and he didn't appreciate being reminded of it. "Damnit Kid, Mark will fucking castrate your ass if you so much as touch her." But not if I get to you first.
"I don't give a shit about Mark," Kid replied bolder than he felt.
"Well, then you're a fucking dope. You know how much pull he has these days. All he has to do is say the word and you're out on your ass."
Heeding solid advice had never been a strong suit for Sean. Therefore he continued with his own musings as if he had not heard a word of what Kevin had told him or anything from their previous conversations for that matter, "You shoulda seen the way she was smiling at me," Kid said, looking like he was drifting on cloud nine. "Holy shit, I want her so bad. And I think she really likes me too." He grinned ear to ear like a moron.
His temper flaring, Kevin struggled to contain himself as he envisioned bear-pawing the smaller man and slapping that idiotic grin right off his face. In order to subdue his fury, he shifted his focus back to the issues with Scott. "Will you stop thinking with your dick for two seconds?" he nearly shouted. "Do you even care that your friend's life is falling apart? Sometimes there's more important things than chasing pussy, ya know."
His remarks made him pause although the indignant scowl never left his face. Was that not more or less the same speech Little One had given him the other night, in her own articulation? This was different though. They were talking about Kid trying to have his way with that sweet, innocent girl, not some hussy ring rat. The mental image of Sean anywhere near her in that manner was making him riled all over again, and that was precisely his dilemma. He had held her. He had kissed her. Kevin felt as if she belonged to him now, unbeknownst to Sean. Kevin sighed inwardly. He was a jackass to entertain such a theory. He had about as much chance of winning her over as Kid probably did – perhaps less.
"Well, you're one to fucking talk, aren't you? I do care about Scott, but just because you two are a couple of miserable, divorced pricks, don't mean the rest of us have to be. Besides, she's not just some random pussy, " Sean argued.
Damnit, you think I don't know that, you little son of a bitch? Kevin nearly burst from the pent-up emotions simmering inside him. He was well aware that he was being a major hypocrite, but he wasn't about the divulge any of this to Kid. "Fine. Go get bent, then. Nobody wants to listen to a damn thing I have to say. Well, don't be surprised when you fucks get screwed," he growled and stomped off in a rage.
Kevin made his way back to the locker room without coffee in hand. When he got there, Paul looked at him apprehensively. It wasn't an expression that was very reassuring. "What is it?" he asked, not certain that he wanted to hear the response. He probably knew all too well as he looked at Scott who had now fallen asleep slumped against the arm of the couch.
"Vince stopped by while you were gone. Took one look at Scott and pulled him out of his match. Put me in instead," Paul told him humorlessly.
"Shit." Kevin kicked a metal chair and ran a hand over his golden mane. "Was he pissed?" Kevin asked as he then sat down on the chair.
"It's Vince. What do you think, man?"
"Fucking Hell. Why, Scotty, why?" he asked the unconscious man, rhetorically. "I gotta talk to Vince," he stated, springing up from the chair.
"Dude, look at him. He's dead to the world." Paul argued indifferently.
"I know. But that doesn't mean he should lose his job. He needs help. Not to be fucked more," the blonde man responded as he exited the room.
Paul just shrugged his enormous shoulders. He didn't know what Kevin was supposed to do for Scott at this point. Obviously, he needed some sort of rehab, so maybe a hiatus from the company wasn't the worst thing. They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions and Paul sometimes felt Kev couldn't see the forest through the trees when it came to Scott and his problems.
I want to make it known that I am in no way making light of Scott's issues and personal demons. I used them for the story, yes, but I don't pretend to know exactly what he has gone through or anything close to that. Also, I make no disparagement against anyone's wives or ex-wives. It's really more, I need a name to fill in the blank, and those are the first to come to mind. I don't know any of these women, so again, I don't pretend to know how they acted, what they did, etc. Thanks for reading. See ya next time.