Chapter 2: Lost and Can't Come Back
(From Stephanie's perspective)
I stared dully at the "E C F'N W" tee shirt that lay dejectedly on the back of my hotel room chair. In all honesty, I wasn't sure why I had bought the company in the first place. It was Shane that had convinced me to buy it –he told me that Daddy was making a fool out of the World Wrestling Federation – and in a way, I guess, that's true.
But what are we doing, really, that's all that different? We're invading WWF television broadcasts, taking up someone else's time! We're acting like spoiled brats! Well, at least that was what Shane had been doing; I just came out as owner of ECW tonight.
And it has ruined my life completely.
I shocked the world and I was quite pleased with myself – at the time. Shane cheerily instructed me on what to say as an explanation tomorrow night at the Smackdown tapings, and I cheerily agreed. I was on top of the world! I owned a company! And I was sure that Hunter would support me every step of the way. Of course, I hadn't informed him of my plans, but hey – who cared? He would support me anyway.
Or so I thought.
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I was cheerfully celebrating with Shane and the other new ECW stars, when I saw Paul Heyman come out of the crowd. I threw him a smile, and he gave me one back. He started waddling over towards me.
I turned back to Shane. I thrust my cell phone into his face, and said, "Here, take this. I'll be right back." He nodded in agreement, and I walked out to where Paul was standing.
"Mr. Heyman?" I asked politely.
He smirked, and said, "Ah, Mrs. Helmsley, how do you do?"
"Quite well, thank you." I said, putting on an equally nauseating smirk.
"You should be," he said, "I let you buy my old company."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "No one lets me do anything, Heyman. I'm Stephanie McMahon. I make my own decisions, and I make them whether or not people let or want me to."
Heyman cracked an even bigger grin. "Of course, Mrs. Helmsley."
I raised an eyebrow. I knew by instinct that he was up to something. No one ever responded to me when I said something like that. They just shrunk back into the crowd and shut their mouths.
Finally, my curiosity got the better of me. "What do you want, Heyman? You were looking at me before." After a slight pause, I added, for good measure: "You'd better tell me, or I'll fire you."
He laughed. "Now, Stephanie, I'll tell you. I'll tell you what I'm up to, if you cut out the threats."
He cleared his throat. "Stephanie, I tipped you off about the ECW. I informed you that there was a revolt going on with the former ECW stars. I was your brother's mole. I may let Shane take all the credit now, but I sure as hell played a large part in this invasion."
"What are you getting at?" I hissed, already impatient.
"I deserve a reward." He said point blankly.
I almost thought that I had missed something. "Excuse me?"
"A reward. I want a reward," he said. "In fact, I demand a reward."
I laughed. "Who are you to demand anything?"
"Don't you think I deserve one?"
I looked at him with a look that I thought clearly meant, "No." He didn't seem to catch it, however. He continued to look at me, an evil spark in his black eyes.
Mentally, I wondered what he wanted. Money? A promotion? Whatever it was, it probably wasn't too bad. There was no reason not to give him a reward. In fact, he did deserve one. I sighed. "All right. What do you have in mind?"
The smirk on his face broadened. "I'll show you." He grabbed me by the wrist, and walked me away from the crowd.
"Where are we going? Let me go!" I exclaimed.
"Don't worry, boss," he grumbled sarcastically as he dragged me through the crowd, "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Well, where are we going?" I asked, annoyed as my new employees stared at us as we walked (or in my case, dragged) by.
"I'll show you." He repeated, and I rolled my eyes. He continued to lead me on - lead me, a McMahon – until we came out of the thicket of the crowd, to a small room. He didn't let go of my wrist as he opened the door.
After the door opened, and he had taken me inside, turned the light on, and closed the door, he let go of my wrist. "Here we are, boss."
I looked around. The room was completely empty, and had a boring interior to say the least – white plaster, which was cracking and peeling off in certain areas. "What's here that could possibly be a reward?" I queried, confused, and I rubbed my wrist ruefully. I looked up and caught his glance. What I saw in his eyes was something I didn't like at all.
It was lust.
I backed towards the door, now knowing his intentions, wanting to get out of the small enclosing room.
"Don't be afraid, Steph," he soothed, "all I want is a nice kiss."
"That's boss to you," I snapped. I turned around, and turned the doorknob. It wouldn't work. Frantic, I turned and jiggled it every way. It wouldn't open.
He had locked the door.
"Heyman, let me out. You don't deserve a reward. I…I'm married! Let me out!" I said, continuing to turn the knob.
I heard him laugh. "Come on, Stephanie. How am I different from every other man you've slept with in your marriage?"
I narrowed my eyes, and turned around, my thoughts of escaping temporarily blocked. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to, Mr. Heyman?" I asked, my blood boiling.
He shrugged. "Come on. What about Kurt Angle?"
"I never slept with him! We were friends!" I said, my voice shaking with rage – and with nervousness.
He rolled his eyes. "Sure."
"I – how dare you accuse me of being unfaithful to Hunter! I love him with all my heart!" I snapped, and turned back to the door.
"And the deception continues." He said in a booming voice.
"Oh please. You sound like a pathetic soap opera." I said, and crossed my arms over my chest.
"Stephanie. What about Summerslam? What about all those times Hunter hurt you? Did you honestly care enough about him to be faithful? It was a fixed marriage anyway!"
"That's not true!" I said.
"Yes; it is. Admit it, Steph – you slept with Kurt Angle." He said, a gleam in his eye. He whirled me around, and I was suddenly face-to-face with him.
"Why are you calling me Steph? I'm not your friend." I said shrilly. "And why should I tell you anything?"
He put his face even closer to mine. "I won't let you go until you admit it." He said.
"Why? Why do you care?" I asked.
He didn't answer. Instead, he just continued to look at me. I bravely stared back.
After awhile, he started to get to me. His eyes were menacing, and I think he already knew the truth anyway. He just wanted to hear it out of my mouth for some sick reason.
I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
I closed my eyes, my arms falling to my sides. "All right. Maybe I had a little fling with Angle. It's over, and I do honestly love Hunter. Are you happy, Heyman? Now, I highly suggest that you let me out of this room before I fire you!"
He cackled, an insane little cackle. "Stephanie, I guess I do have power. I got you to tell me your secret. If you fire me now, I will tell everyone, including your husband."
"You will not!" I said in disbelief.
"Oh, you'd better believe it."
My mouth hung open as I tried to think of something to say in response. I couldn't let him get away – I couldn't let him tell Hunter. "All right. I will not fire you," I said finally, "but, we will act as if this conversation never happened."
"You got it, boss."
"And you will let me out of this room. Now." I said firmly.
"Not so fast." He said, stepping even closer to me, if that was at all possible. His face was about half an inch away from mine.
I closed my eyes, knowing what he wanted. I prepared for disgust.
His lips were just on mine when I heard a frenzy of knocks on the door that I was backed against. Heyman immediately snapped away, and shoved me out of the door frame, and unlocked the door. While he wasn't looking, I wiped my mouth off with my hand.
"Stephanie!" I peered around the door, and saw Shane standing there, my cell phone in his hand.
Heyman cleared his throat, mumbled, "If you'll excuse me," and walked away briskly.
"Listen, you got a call," he said. "It was Hunter. And, quite frankly, he was pissed." He thrust the phone into my hand, and walked away.
I opened the door more widely, frowned, and muttered, "What could he be so pissed about?"
"Only one way to find out," I said in response to myself. I dialed my home phone number.
It had barely rung when Hunter picked up. "Yes?" he snapped.
"Hunter! You called?" I said in as pleasant of a tone as I could muster.
"Yeah," he said, "just to ask you what in hell you think you're doing."
Now there was something that I wasn't expecting. I had honestly thought that he would be happy for me. "I have my own company. Aren't you happy?"
"You are disgusting." He whispered.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Have you forgotten something, Steph? I work for the World Wrestling Federation. I worked my entire life to get there. I busted my ass to get there. It may be run out of business now, thanks to you and your selfish brother. Do you want to destroy that?"
"I assumed you would defect to ECWCW." I said coolly.
And the conversation went downhill from there.
He snapped. I could barely collect myself. He accused me of sleeping with Paul Heyman, which, in a way I guess was true, but then he accused me of screwing around with Kurt Angle. That really hit me since that, in a major way, was true.
He concluded the mostly one-sided conversation with, "I'm better off without you" and I heard him slam the phone down.
Shaking, I dropped the phone into my purse, which was slinged on my shoulder. I dully walked out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind me, still not quite believing the conversation I had just had was real.
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And here I am now, on bottom of the world, drinking away my woes. I don't drink that often, but I do it when I get depressed.
My marriage is ruined, and it is my entire fault. It had finally been going so well – I was able to be with him every day, and I wasn't with Kurt. If I hadn't started sleeping with him in the first place, I wouldn't be in this mess today.
There is no doubt in my mind now that he knew all along anyway. It had just surfaced when he saw me on RAW. Hell; now I could fire Heyman, and if he told Hunter, it wouldn't matter! I'm like my father – I'm heading for divorce.
I emptied the beer bottle and looked at the side. It was boring and uninteresting. I smashed it on the hotel room floor.
"Great," I muttered to myself, "I'll have to pick that up later."
I blearily stumbled out of chair, and cast one last gaze at the ECW shirt. I headed to bed.
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I woke up the next morning with the worst headache I had had in years. It was just what I needed now – a hangover.
I rubbed my eyes, and fell out of bed. I straightened out my dress, which I had fallen asleep in, and headed to the bathroom. I grasped the sink as I looked in the mirror. My usually blue eyes were red and bloodshot. I turned the sink on, and splashed my face with cold water. I turned it off, sighed, and looked in the mirror again.
I guess I had to get going. I still had to go to work. ECW wouldn't wait. I had to hurt my father tonight. I had to stab the knife in his back in a little deeper.
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I arrived at the arena at noon. Shane, Paul, and the other ECWCW employees were already there, waiting for me. Shane looked excited, while Paul flashed me an evil grin.
"Steph, where were you?" Shane asked as I dragged my bags into the locker room.
"We've been here an hour already, and our boss is an hour late?" asked DDP.
Shane turned around. "Hey, I'm your boss." DDP shrugged with an indifferent look.
"I'm sorry." I said groggily.
"Well, it's okay." Paul said quickly, the self-satisfied smirk never leaving his face.
"Yeah," Shane agreed, "It's all right. While we were waiting for you, we all thought of a good speech for tonight. I know I talked about what we were going to do last night, but I have a great idea for the beginning of the show…."
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It is now seven o'clock. Shane was out there, with his WCW guys. I was waiting backstage with Paul Heyman and my new employees. He was rambling about how he had shocked the world last night.
I sighed, and waited for the cue in Shane's speech.
"Hey, Stephanie." Said Paul Heyman coolly.
I turned around, my eyebrows knitted. "Yes?"
"Well, we never finished out business talk from last night. After Smackdown tonight, do you want to finish it?" he said in the utmost casual voice.
"Not really." I said, and turned back around to the television monitor.
"I think we should. Remember?" he said roughly.
I turned around; again, and moved a little closer, so no one else would hear me. "You can't threaten me with…that, anymore."
"What? Don't you care about your marriage? Because, I think, my sources tell me, that if we don't finish our talk, your marriage will be over," he said his sarcasm fully in tact.
"I do care. But he already knows." The ECW music played, and I walked out stage, Heyman following closely behind with the ECW stars.
Heyman stood on one side of the ramp and I stood on another. The ECW troopers obediently filed out, and we walked down to the ring. In my mind, everything was a fog. On the outside, my face was worked up into an evil, sinister smile. I'm good at my faces; I'll give myself credit for that.
We walked into the ring, to a tremendous heat from the crowd. Heyman grabbed the mike from Shane, and began blabbing on and on just like Shane had been doing before. For the first time in my life, I felt sorry for the crowd. They must have been bored out of their minds listening to Heyman and Shane drone on and on. Soon I would be doing it too, so I guess I couldn't complain.
When he said he had seduced me with power, I mentally rolled my eyes. He was making me look like some kind of mindless drone. And maybe I deserved that. Maybe I was.
"…and without further ado, Stephanie!" he said, and stuck the mike in front of my face. I took it and said, "You can just call me boss." and Heyman bowed his head and grinned. As I looked into his eyes, though, I know he didn't mean the friendly look on his face.
I just talked for awhile, dreading each minute. Shane had told me what I needed to say; I just didn't want to say it. I was putting off the time until I actually had to say it, and I was putting it off with fluff. I didn't believe I was going to say this.
"Dad, we bought our own companies because we just couldn't wait for you to die!" I said, the awful words that I had to say finally out. I heard Jim Ross say, "Dear God" from the commentary table, and that's about what I was thinking. I don't believe I had said something so hurtful. I was talking to my father! I was daddy's little girl!
My music played, and we walked out of the ring. Shane was grinning ear to ear, and I saw him clearly mouth, "Good job, Steph!"
I didn't feel very good. I just wanted this to end. I wanted Invasion to come and go, and have everybody forget about it. I was hurting everybody I had ever loved. I wish I could reverse the whole thing, but I can't. I'm just in far too deep now. All my money is gone. All of my World Wrestling Federation stocks are sold. And I probably just killed my chance of getting back with Dad. And Hunter.
I'm too scared to leave now. I can't back out now.
I'm in far too deep.