Another run, another town. This time, the landed in Charlotte, NC. They arrived a day early so they wouldn't be so jet lagged. Mark drove the rental car towards their hotel with Heather in the front seat, reading while Reves stretched out in the backseat. Rev was staring out the window listening to her Saliva CD. They passed the arena where tomorrows Raw would be held. As they passed the venue, Reves bolted up reading the electronic sign. "No way!" she shouted as she reached forward to grab Heather's should, causing her to jump and drop her book in her lap.

"What?" Heather asked with alarm in her voice.

"Linkin Park! They're doing a show at the arena tonight."

Heather turned back and squinted to decipher the lettering on the sign that was growing smaller in the distance

Reves leaned between the seats and turned towards her father. "Can we go, Dad?" she asked, hopeful.

"Eh, girl you know I ain't into all that new stuff they got today. Ain't even music." Mark replied.

Reves made and exasperated grunt, throwing herself back into the seat, arms folded over her chest. She didn't know what pissed her off more: the fact that the answer was always no, or his round about answers sometimes.

Heather picked up her book, finding her place. It was a pity, she would have like the see the show. It had been a long time since they had been to any concerts and as he stated, Mark thought most of their favorite artist were just noise. Disappointed, she turned back to her book. Rosario had just revealed to Ambrosio in the grotto, that he is in fact a woman!

After a few minutes they arrived at the hotel to check in. They turned to head towards the elevators when the notice Matt, Jeff and Amy entering the lobby. Matt raised his hand over his head and waved at them.

Mark approached the three of them and the girls followed. "Hey, boys. Hey, Amy." Mark greeted them. "Didn't know you were getting in early too."

"We just did a house show in Greensboro last night, so we figured we'd head down here," Jeff replied. His accent seemed somehow broadened by being in his home state.

Mark nodded.

"What's up, girls?" Amy addressed the two teenagers.

"They're pissed at me right now," Mark volunteered.

"I'm not upset," Heather said meekly, looking up at him. Still, her emerald eyes were painted with chagrin.

Reves gave a sideways glance at the younger girl. Yeah right, she thought.

Mark looked down at Heather as well, giving her a half smile. He was aware she was disappointed. Yet at least she was agreeable. He loved how sweet and easy going his youngest was. She had the patience of a saint. His oldest daughter was very much the opposite. She was stubborn and cocky with a rebellious streak. Unlike Heather, who naturally fell into obedience, Reves would challenge every command then demand explanation. If she said the sky was blue, she would insist it was green until he provided a million reasons why she should believe it so.

"They want to go to this damn concert and I ain't up for that," Mark continued. "This Lonkin Prak?"

"Linkin Park," Heather corrected timidly.

"Whatever they are," Mark returned, shaking his head.

"Yeah, we did see that coming in! Love Linkin Park. They are one of my favorite bands," Amy replied elated.

"I know. Too bad we have to miss it," Reves stated, making not attempt to disguise her annoyance.

Mark was becoming agitated. "Girl, will you just drop it?"

Amy glanced between Matt and Jeff in a subliminal understanding, then to Mark. "You know, Mark we were actually thinking of going to the show. We could take the girls, if that's not a problem," she smiled at him.

Reves snapped her head towards her father to see his reaction. Heather couldn't help the grin that creeped across her face.

"No. It ain't yer responsibility to look after 'em."

Heather's face fell, while Reves's already skeptical face remained the same.

"It's not a problem for us, Mark," Jeff told him, his rainbow hair swayed as he spoke.

"You're sure?" Mark's expression changed to that of confliction. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, mulling it over.

"Positive. It's totally cool," Matt answered him.

A few moments later, Marks countenance softened, and his shoulders sagged. "Hell," he said dropping his arms. "Alright. Ya'll can go."

The girls squealed as they jumped up and down in elation. Reves's arms flew around his waist. He hugged he back while wishing he would get this type of affection without always having to give her something in return.

"Thank you, Daddy," Heather expressed gratitude as she kissed his cheek.

"Just don't go actin' crazy," he warned them sternly. He turned to the trio. "Thank you, really. Let me know if they get out of hand."

"Oh, I don't think that will happen," Amy grinned.

"Well, let's go get settled in for now," Mark told the girls.

They bid goodbye to their friends and headed to their room after collecting the key.

"Oh my God. I have like nothing to wear!" Reves announced, tossing her suitcase on the bed.

Mark groaned inwardly. Every time she uttered that statement, she usually asked to go shopping. He didn't understand what the hell for, either. Those girls had so many clothes they could cloth at small country. Hell, they could probably feed a small country if they sold even a fraction of their wardrobe.

"I'm just going to wear a pair of Tripp pants and my Hybrid Theory tee shirt. It must be fate that I brought it on this run," Heather said with a contented smile.

Reves glared at her, unzipping her suitcase. Her sister always did an immaculate job at ruining her plans. If baby Heather was content, she was always shut down.

Heather only stared at her questioningly. What had she done?

"Well, girls I'm going to get my workout in down at Gold's Gym. We can get something to eat after," Mark told them.

"Okay." Heather nodded in compliance.

Reves struggled to mask her annoyance. Still, she knew she was darn lucky to be going to the concert so it would have to be a tradeoff.

After Mark changed into his workout clothes, they head down to the rental car and drove the ten minutes to the nearest location of the gym that was popular amongst many of the wrestlers.

"Hey Mark, what's up? Hey girls." They were greeted by Glenn Jacobs, also know as Kane, a close personal friend and wrestling partner of Mark's.

"Hi," the sisters said in unison.

"Hey, man. How are you?" Mark questioned as he approached his friend, getting ready to start his workout.

Heather and Reves settled themselves on a nearby bench. They both carried their CD player for music. Reves pulled out her sketch pad and some pencils, while Heather immersed herself in the scandals of The Monk once again.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, two others walked into the vicinity in the form of a blonde giant and a smaller dark-haired man.

Reves looked up from her drawing in exasperation. It was already turning into a disaster. Her piercing blues fell upon the two men once known as The Outsiders. She supposed it was still a fitting title for them now. After watching them for a few moments, Scott Hall turned towards her with a grin, his chocolate eyes staring back at her. A coy smirk stretched across her lips, but was almost immediately replaced by a scowl. He's kinda cute, she said to herself. For an old guy…

Scott chuckled. She was big and bad, alright. But her dark eyeliner and combat boots were a valiant addition to the aesthetic. He watched her tuck a strand of ashy hair behind her ear. And return to her artwork.

Kevin witnessed the exchange, but once she turned back, his eyes shifted to the right and fell upon the tiny creature sitting beside her sister. She sat with her legs crossed under her. She was hunched over a book that's cover her couldn't see. He couldn't see her face because she was wearing a hooded jacket that shielded her face. Still, he knew who she was courtesy the shiny raven locks marked with violet, that cascaded from the hood creating a curtain over the front of her small frame. He noticed her shoulders quivering, a sign she was either crying or laughing, but he couldn't hear over the din of equipment, chatter and music coming over the speakers.

She canted her head towards her sister, but her mossy eyes were caught by his. Her delicate lips were tugged at the corners in a bemused grin. Her visage was instantly flushed in a deep crimson and her smile faded. Kevin caught one last glimpse of her eyes from behind her dark rimmed glasses before she dropped her head, pulling her hood further over her comely face.

Kevin shrugged and turned back to spot his friend. He didn't know why the girl seemed so skittish, like some sort of scared rabbit. Like it matters anyway he told himself. Still, those sparkling eyes burned into his mind for a few more moments.

Heather's heart was beating a little rapidly. She was not anticipating to look up and see Kevin Nash. She wasn't positive, but it would seem he had already been observing her for a few moments. Why would that be? She shuddered. Her dad's friends were some of the oddest people.

Every once in a while, Reves would steal glances in the direction of the two mean. She had had to sit and gawk at not only other wrestlers, but every other meathead Joe Some in gym after gym, but she never considered how hot it could be until she was watching Scott's muscles flex as he worked the equipment. She felt a tingling between her legs and sighed inwardly. She hadn't had any since she was dumped by her boyfriend, Eric when she told him she was going on the road with her dad. Thinking of her break up quickly shifted her thoughts away from Scott. She frowned, closing her sketchbook.

When Mark finished his workout, he hit the shower and changed clothes. After that, they grabbed a bite to eat. Following their meal, they returned to their room where Mark laid down for a nap as he had said. He felt like an old geezer, but he had been doing this for a long time. He started training before the kids where born. Not to mention, the traveling and mental stress sucked the energy right out of him.

In another room connecting off of Mark's, Heather lay on her stomach, her nose still buried in her book. Meanwhile, Reves was restlessly pacing back and forth. They still had a few hours before the could even begin getting ready for the concert. Reves, then suddenly, plopped back onto the bed beside her sister, causing a slight bouncing motion. Heather acknowledged her with a furtive glance and redirected her attention to the scandalous tome.

After a minute or so, Reves spoke, "What do you think of Hall and Nash?" she quizzed the younger girl, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling.

"What do you mean? I don't think of them," Heather stated flatly, "Other than they being overtly abhorrent, as is everyone else in this industry." Her eyes never left the pages of the book, although she had stopped reading to confer with her sister.

Reves shook her head, "Never mind." She gave a fail-safe smirk.

Heather thought it was odd of her sister to make such an inquiry, but she wasn't the type to prod for answers, so she moved on from it. She deduced she was probably sizing them up to measure if they were true to their word about not snitching. It was not as if they were delinquents. Yet, because of some of the wrestlers' attitudes towards them, Reves like to know what parties were copasetic and who they needed to steer clear of (not that Rev ever garnered much success in that category).

Finally, it was time to prepare for the concert. They teenagers were listening to the Hybrid Theory album as they were doing their make-up and getting dressed. While they were finishing up, Amy, Matt, and Jeff knocked on the door to pick them up.

As they came out to from the adjacent room, Mark looked the girls over. Heather was fine, of course. "You really think I'm going to let you walk out this door like that?" Mark questioned Reves with his arms folded over his chest.

"What?" she groaned in agitation.

"Don't act naive. I've seen longer skirts that that down in the red-light district." He was exaggerating of course, but that scrap of fabric – sure as hell couldn't call it a skirt – not on his daughter!

Reves's eyes flashed and Heather, mentally pleaded with her to not let slip the words that came next, "And what would you know about the length of the skirts in the red-light district?"

Mark glared at her with fire in his eyes. He clenched his fist, talking himself down. The tension in the room was as thick as mud. Amy and the boys shuffled their feet in awkward discomfort. "Go put something else on, or you are not going," Mark demanded in an even but grousing tone.

"Aye, aye Captain," Reves saluted in her most benevolent disposition before walking towards the other room.

Mark released and aggravated growl, turning to the three that were waiting, "Sorry guys." Thanks again for doing this."

"Nothing to thank us for. Already told you that," Matt stated.

A minute later, Reves reappeared with a pair of leggings on beneath her skirt. "Is this up to your standards?" Reves scoffed.

"Girl, don't push me," Mark warned. "Now listen to Amy and the boys and don't do nothin' stupid," he instructed as they walked out.

Anything. Don't do anything stupid. Heather had the urge to correct him, but knew better as he was already heated.

Don't do nothin' stupid. I can think of a million ways to accomplish that, Reves thought to herself.

When they got into the elevator, Reves removed her boots and peeled off the leggings, stuffing them in her bag.

Heather gasped. "Rev, Daddy told you to wear those for reason," the younger sibling reprimanded her.

"Oh please," Reves glared at her.

Heather looked to Amy, Matt and Jeff for backup. Amy shrugged, "I don't see what's wrong with it," she admitted.

Matt and Jeff were looking to the walls awkwardly. "Ya could have at least went to the ladies' room." Jeff informed Reves.

Heather's shoulders sagged. "Just remember to put them back on before we come home."

"Yes, mommy," Reves spoke sardonically.

They made their way to the rental car. As they did, they passed Scott Hall and Kevin Nash, this time with Hulk Hogan. Heather nodded politely and hurried on.

Reves purposely made eye contact with Scott, though she quickly regretted it when he grinned at her causing her to blush in vain. She averted her eyes and quickened her pace to catch up with the others.

Scott watched her for a moment. Could her skirt possibly be any shorter? Did Mark really let her go out like that? Fat chance. He felt his member twitch involuntarily which freaked him out. He shook off the thought when he heard Kev calling him, "Scotty, hurry the hell up, man."


"Third row?" Heather exclaimed when Matt handed them their tickets as they waited in line.

"Yeah, not bad for last minute," Amy stated with a smirk, pushing a lock of fiery red hair way from her face.

"Coolio," Reves grinned.

"Thank you for letting us come with you," Heather told them sincerely.

"Yeah, with all do respect to Mark, you two are young. You should be out having fun, not locked up in some hotel or Mark's dressing room," Jeff said in his Carolina accent.

"Glad somebody gets it," Reves sighed as she briefly laid her head on his shoulder, and smiled.

They moved forward in line and it was finally time to present their tickets in exchange for access to the show.

The opening act had been pleasing enough, but it was finally time for the band everyone had been waiting for. Following a few minutes devoted to set up between bands, the main act took the stage. The music flowed out of the speakers and everyone was growing hyped by the intro. The two sisters were so ecstatic to be allowed to be out and revel in something they loved probably for than anything: the music, the instrumentals, the words and the emotions. Linkin Park were a particularly unique band with their mix of classic rock guitars and drums married with turntables and electronic beats. It was complimented the combination of Mike's perpetual flow and Chester's growly screams.

The band's opener was With You and the audience was already pumped, jumping up and down to the music with their hands in the air.

Midway through the show, Heather gave a shout when she recognized her favorite Linkin Park song, Points of Authority. She sang along to all the lyrics breathlessly, "Forfeit the game before somebody takes you outta the frame and puts your name to shame…" Then the song flowed into perhaps their biggest hit, In the End.

The five young people lost themselves in the music, the lyrics, the vibe. For a short while, they didn't have to be characters or adhere to someone else's rules. The adrenaline rushed through the sisters' veins and by the end of the show they were too hyped to think about sleep when Amy and the brothers dropped them off at their hotel room at a quarter to midnight after stopping for some fast food.

The girls thanked them again as Reves inserted to keycard into the door. They bid the three goodnight and entered the room. The realization dawned on Reves as she entered the door. "Shit!" she expelled through clenched teeth. She had forgotten to put her leggings back on, so she made a b-line for the adjacent room.

"Hey Rev," a few moments later Heather entered and presented to her a note in their father's sloppy scribble stating he had gone out with some of the boys and would be back later.

"How shocking!" Reves sardonically feigned surprise.

"Dad works really hard. He deserves to relax too." Heather gently reprimanded her older sister, although in truth, she too felt he could spend less time in bars and with his buddies.

The girls washed the make-up off their faces and changed into their pajamas. They turned on the lights and crawled into bed with Cruel Intentions playing on HBO.

"Do you think with should be like a female Linkin Park?" Reves questioned her younger sister as she twisted a lock of blonde hair between her thumb and forefinger.

"The probability of success on such and endeavor is tremendously low," Heather stated matter of fact. "In other words: no, I don't think we could replicate Chester and Mike's dynamic, despite the fact that we are, in fact, sisters.

"Thanks for crushing my dreams," Reves replied with sarcasm, yet grinned.

They laid there watching the movie until sleep finally overtook them.


The round of shot glasses hit the table with a disjointed clinking. That was the third round and they were just getting started. It was good to have these motherfuckers partying together again.

"You get let off the chain or what?" Scott asked Mark.

"Fuck off, Hall," Mark grinned as he knocked back a swig of his Jack and Coke.

"He just gets a little slack," Glen quipped.

"Don't you start your shit too, Jacobs," Mark shot back. Had he not already been buzzed, he probably would have socked them all in the mouth.

On the stage immediately to their left, a leggy blonde slide down the pole that was fixed in the center. She thrusted her tight ass towards them as she bent over. Looking back at them, she smiled seductively over her shoulder. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her sequin bra. She turned, facing them. Holding it in place over her chest, she removed her arms from each strap before tossing it aside to reveal her ample breasts.

Down on her knees, she crawled towards Mark. "You're The Undertaker," she stated, jiggling her DDs in front of his face.

She smiled keenly, running her hands over her taunt abs and flipped her hair. "So, would you be interested in a privet dance, Deadman?" she asked in husky voice.

"No thanks," he replied flatly. A war was waging inside him. It would be so easy to fall into temptation. Too easy in fact. But he and Sara were finally getting back to a good place. He couldn't fuck that up over one night of getting his dick wet.

Her face fell and distorted into anger. "Deadman? That stands for dead from the waist down, right?" She snarled, drawing jeers and laughter from his friends.

"Hey bitch-" Mark started.

"I got you, sweet thing," Scott intervened, slipping a fifty-dollar bill into the string of her thong.

"The Bad Guy," she grinned, as she turned towards him.

"You got it, Chica," Scott smirked, oozing machismo.

"What do you say? You up for some privet fun?"

"You got a friend for my friend?" he canted his head towards Kevin who was sitting to his right, puffing on a fat stogie.

"Certainly. My best friend loves her some Big Sexy." Her tits bounced as she leaned forward, quickly. They both eyed her salaciously. "Hey, Charity!" she called to her friend from across the club.

Charity's chestnut hair sprang as she pulled her attention away from the plump, suited business man upon whose lap she sat. She watched the smile that played on Candy's sultry lips as a perfectly manicured nail beckoned her over. She saw the group of wrestlers as she approached, leaving her current client confused and disgruntled. She was a little nervous, but maintained her charm as she her voluptuous hips swayed back and forth.

"Well hello boys," Charity said. Her voice flowed smooth as silk, "Having a good time?"

"It's decent," Nash shrugged. "But maybe we could turn things up a notched?" The sensuality in his voice made her shudder, drawing moisture between her legs.

This wasn't right she was the one who was supposed to leave her clients and hot and bothered, gushing with lust and desire for her. This was Kevin fucking Nash though. They didn't call him Big Sexy for nothing!

She looked around at the members of their party. "The Bad Guy" Scott Hall, Taker, Kane and others too.

"What did you have in mind, dear?" Candy asked in an alluringly husky voice.

"The Best Western at 9th and Main, 126 and 127," Scott replied, signature tooth-pick resting in the corner of his mouth.

The young women exchanged wry glances, their lips curved in sultry grins. "Give is about thirty minutes." Candy linked arms with Charity as both women eyed them wantonly before they slinked backstage.

"Can't believe you turned that fine ass down, Mark," Kevin said to him.

"Hell, I remember a time when you would have taken both those broads as once," Scott added.

Mark empty his glass, placing it in the table with an unintentional bang. "Look, I made a mistake once or twice, but that was a long time ago. I don't do that shit anymore," Mark growled defensively.

"Since when? Since your kids started comin' round?" Scott mused.

Mark's jaw clenched and his gazed locked onto Hall in a furious glare. His knuckles felt tight as his hand balled into a fist. His blood was boiling, but rather than get into a brawl, get got up and started to walk out. "I'm outta here! I got better things to do than hang around with you dumb fucks," his thick accent boomed.

"What crawled up his ass?" Nash questioned.

Glen slapped his forehead. "You two are dumb fucks. He almost got divorced before the whole stalker angle, they did. Spending the time with Sara helped save his marriage," he told them. "He was also having issues with his kids at that time. You set him off pretty bad."

Hall and Nash felt rather shitty after that, but there was no way they could have known. They didn't talk with Mark too often during their years with WCW or on their hiatus either. Still, they figured Mark would get over it rather quickly, so they shrugged it off after a few moments.

"Well, it looks like we have some business to attend to brother," Kev said to Scott as he stood up with a smug expression painting his face.

"Hey, you wanna switch broads?" Scott asked him.

Nash furrowed his brows at the absurdity of the request. "Fuck no!"

They exited the club, hardly paying any mind to Glen as they left him there, stuck with everyone's tabs.

"Gee, thanks assholes," Glen groused under his breath as he pulled two hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and threw them on the bar before leaving himself.


So had this chapter in mind for a little while, even before Chester Bennington's untimely death. R.I.P Chester.