Jeff showered, and changed into a black wife-beater, and a pair of dark, baggy, cargo jeans.
He walked outside to see a mob of fans outside.
"Shit," he heard from behind him, he turned around to see Trish standing right behind him in a white tank top, flare cargo khakis tight pants, and black platform boots.
"Really," he said in a low voice.
"Ohh! Jeff, look," she pointed at a white cab driving by.
"Go for it, I have my car," Jeff snubbed her, and walked off in the other direction.
Trish looked down at her feet, as they became foggy with tears. Jeff was the only guy she had ever actually liked, ever since, well, the night a man in a black ski mask took something she could never get back.
She hailed the cab, and quickly got in, throwing her bag in front of her, "The Plaza," she murmured, barely loud enough to be heard.
"Yes ma'am," a gruff voice said from the front seat.
Jeff walked to his black corvette. He noticed a shadowy person, about the size of Edge, sitting in the driver's seat.
He assumed it was Adam, and went ahead and threw his bag in the trunk.
Someone dressed in all black, hit him in the head with something heavy, his 6'1" figure collapsed to the ground.
"Come on Johnny, I can't pick him up," the figure in black said.
Another figure in black climbed out of the car, and grabbed Jeff's legs, and the two of them threw Jeff into the backseat.
"What the hell, this isn't the way to the Plaza, where are you going?" Trish asked the driver.
"We ain't going to the Plaza, Blonde," a man turned around and shoved the cold barrel of a gun between her eyes, "Now sit back, and shut up, you dirty little slut, I do have a few things in mind before I'll have to kill you," he grabbed her breast and turned around.
She closed her eyes, and pulled her knees to her chin, and cried silently into her lap, she had never thought something like this would happen again.
He walked outside to see a mob of fans outside.
"Shit," he heard from behind him, he turned around to see Trish standing right behind him in a white tank top, flare cargo khakis tight pants, and black platform boots.
"Really," he said in a low voice.
"Ohh! Jeff, look," she pointed at a white cab driving by.
"Go for it, I have my car," Jeff snubbed her, and walked off in the other direction.
Trish looked down at her feet, as they became foggy with tears. Jeff was the only guy she had ever actually liked, ever since, well, the night a man in a black ski mask took something she could never get back.
She hailed the cab, and quickly got in, throwing her bag in front of her, "The Plaza," she murmured, barely loud enough to be heard.
"Yes ma'am," a gruff voice said from the front seat.
Jeff walked to his black corvette. He noticed a shadowy person, about the size of Edge, sitting in the driver's seat.
He assumed it was Adam, and went ahead and threw his bag in the trunk.
Someone dressed in all black, hit him in the head with something heavy, his 6'1" figure collapsed to the ground.
"Come on Johnny, I can't pick him up," the figure in black said.
Another figure in black climbed out of the car, and grabbed Jeff's legs, and the two of them threw Jeff into the backseat.
"What the hell, this isn't the way to the Plaza, where are you going?" Trish asked the driver.
"We ain't going to the Plaza, Blonde," a man turned around and shoved the cold barrel of a gun between her eyes, "Now sit back, and shut up, you dirty little slut, I do have a few things in mind before I'll have to kill you," he grabbed her breast and turned around.
She closed her eyes, and pulled her knees to her chin, and cried silently into her lap, she had never thought something like this would happen again.