*Oh, yeah, and before I forget, this is a shout-out to Stupid Lille Whore (I'm assuming you meant to write either 'Little' or 'Lil', by the way): About the very flattering comments you left in your review--and I quote, "If it is Scott Stapp i say ha!!! that guys a fag plus he's married...you poop head," have you ever heard of a little thing called divorce? What an era we live in, huh? If you still don't get it--after all, when you're calling yourself stupid, you must really be brain cell challenged--Scott Stapp got divorced nearly two years ago. So...who's the "poop head" now?
Chapter Two
From
what one could tell at first glance, there were five people in the room
who seemed to be the most important. Naturally, Stephanie McMahon was there,
and she had apparently been speaking with the gorgeous young man from the
hallway--Scott. Hunter Hearst Helsmley, a.k.a. Triple H, was also in the
room, chatting with two darkly handsome young men as if they were old buddies.
Trish gave a meaningful look at Stephanie, and the youngest McMahon hastened
to explain.
"Trish,
I want you to meet Scott Stapp," she began to introduce the dashing young
man standing beside her.
"We've
met," was all Trish said, at the same time that Scott chimed in, "Hey,
aren't you the girl from the hallway?" They shook hands anyway, as Stephanie
continued.
"Scott
is the lead singer of the rock band Creed," she explained.
"Yeah,
they're going to be doing the newest version of my theme song," Triple
H cut in. He then jerked his thumb at the two men he had been talking to.
"These are guitarist Mark Tremonti and drummer Scott Phillips."
As Trish moved in to shake their hands as well,
Scott Phillips spoke pleasantly, "Feel free to call me Flip. That way,
you won't get me confused with Stapp over there."
Trish smiled in reply, before turning to Hunter
and arching one blonde eyebrow questioningly.
"Why
do you need a new entrance song?" the Canadian diva wanted to know. "Didn't
Drowning Pool just finish recording a remix for the Forceable Entry
CD?"
Hunter gave her an incredulous look.
"Have
you actually taken the time to listen to that thing?" he demanded.
Trish looked down guiltily at the floor.
"Um...no?"
she admitted in a tiny voice.
"In
that case, let's just say that it didn't quite live up to expectations,"
Hunter said delicately.
"Yes,
and there's only so much one can take of Triple H's constant whining before
she finally has to give in," Stephanie spoke up dryly, as the WWF Superstar
and her real-life boyfriend turned around and gave her a mock evil eye.
"You
see, the rather lackluster live Wrestlemania performance didn't exactly
impress neither the fans, nor management. So that's why I contacted Creed,
which has quite the reputation for its exhilarating live shows, and asked
them to perform a live version of The Game to replace the Drowning
Pool remix," she further explained.
"Oh,
yeah, now I remember you," Trish murmured. "The Desire videos!" And she
sang a few bars from My Sacrifice.
"Guilty
as charged," Scott said, and a smile lit up his face again.
"So...are
you going to perform tonight?" Trish ventured.
"No,
of course not," Stephanie responded before a member of Creed could. "They're
just here to get a feel of what a WWF crowd is like. We're using Creed's
song Bullets as the official theme song of Backlash, and have negotiated
a deal for them to perform that song live at the pay-per-view. It is also
there that they will record a live performance of The Game--think
of it as a refund for the people who ordered Wrestlemania and were disappointed
by the lackluster live rock performances."
"Oh,
okay," Trish murmured.
"We
should probably go now," guitarist Mark Tremonti spoke up, and he and the
rest of Creed began to walk out the room. Hunter left soon afterwards,
but not before giving Stephanie a quick kiss good-bye.
"So,
how are you and Matt?" Stephanie asked cheerfully once the men had left,
skimming down a few pages of scripted matches as she spoke. The innocent
question brought Trish back to reality, as she stopped looking after the
disappearing figures of Creed--or, specifically, Scott Stapp--and focused
on Steph's words.
"We're
okay," she lied, conveniently forgetting to mention the fact that lately,
she and Matt had been spending less and less time together.
"Great."
Stephanie smiled. "Because believe it or not, you're going to interfere
in his and Jeff's tag team match later tonight."
"I
will?" Trish was surprised. Stephanie nodded.
"Remember
that feud with Lita you were supposed to begin a month ago?" she prodded.
At Trish's, "Yeah," the brunette McMahon said, "Well, we've finally found
a way to start it. See, on your match with Jazz tonight, you already know
that you're going to lose that title shot."
When Trish nodded, Stephanie went on.
"After
the bell has rung, Jazz will continue to beat on you,"--Great, so she would
be bumping like hell--"and Lita comes out for the save. Later on, during
the Hardys' match up, Lita tries to help Matt but gets pushed off the apron,
so you run down to try and return the favor."
"Okay,"
Trish nodded along.
"However,
you accidentally cost the Hardys the match up, and Matt ends up taking
the brunt of the beating," Stephanie continued. A light dawned in Trish's
eyes, as she began to see where the plan was going.
"Oh,
I see. And Lita gets jealous as I'm spending more time than necessary checking
up on Matt," she guessed.
"Right,"
Stephanie added. "And there we go: Perfect start for a feud between two
of the most popular divas in the World Wrestling Federation."
"Got
it," Trish replied, glad that she had a storyline to focus on, instead
of her mounting troubles with Matt Hardy and lingering thoughts of Scott
Stapp.
Trish knew the routine by heart. As soon as her music hit, out she came from behind the curtain, strutting confidently down the ramp, flashing her sultry smile for the crowd, before rolling into the ring and taking off her cowboy hat to toss back a headful of shining, sun-gold locks. The bell rang, as Lilian Garcia announced the contest to be a title match, while Trish took off her silky black coat and tightened one of her elbow pads. And then, as Jazz's music hit and the reigning Women's Champ made her entrance, Trish, in her routine sweeping glance of the crowd to check some of the more creative signs, unwittingly found Scott Stapp and the rest of Creed sitting in the front row, getting a feel of what a live WWF audience was like, and how different it was from their concert crowds. Fortunately for Trish, though, before she had any time to worry about Scott and Matt, Jazz stormed into the ring, and the bell rang, signaling for the blonde Canadian diva that it was time to forget about her mounting relationship woes and start fighting for her life.
Scott Stapp had to admit to himself that the first time he'd encountered Trish Stratus, he didn't exactly think that highly of her. He had all the respect in the world for the beautiful and intelligent Stephanie McMahon...but Trish, although equally lovely and just as nice, had struck him as one of those silicone Barbie doll types that a company like the World Wrestling Federation used only to draw in horny young males. As the blonde Canadian's match commenced against Jazz, however, Scott noted with growing amazement the degree of athleticism both women--not just the fearsome Jazz, but Barbie doll Trish as well--displayed in the ring. Beside him, Mark Tremonti winced as a particularly rowdy fan attempted to throw an empty beer bottle at the hated Jazz as she exited the ring, and nearly struck him in the process. As the drunken fan got kicked out by Security, Mark turned to the dark-haired lead singer sitting beside him and asked, "So, what do you think? Can we handle these people?" Scott shrugged, a distracted frown on his face. Throughought the course of the match up, Trish had taken a particularly nasty bump--he didn't know the first thing about professional wrestling, but as a person who boxed to warm up, he did know how to spot a move that would hurt like hell--and he was worried whether the petite blonde was all right. Through the course of the rest of the night, Mark noticed that Scott appeared distracted, concerned with something that had occurred earlier. It wasn't until a limping Trish came out to try to help the Hardys and subsequently cost them their match did Creed's dashing frontman finally relax, assured that the sultry diva was, indeed, all right.
After
showering and changing out of her risqué onscreen outfit into less
flashy clothes, Trish toweled her hair off and went to seek out Stephanie
McMahon, anxious to hear the head of the booking department's opinions
on her performance that night. Passing by Lita (who had given her one mean
slap for costing her "boyfriend" the victory, she might add), Trish called
out a brief greeting, to which Lita flashed a quick smile.
"Hey,
good job," the flame-haired femme fatale added, slapping her a quick high-five
as she headed off to the women's locker room to shower and change.
"Thanks,"
Trish replied. "You too." Even though Lita's job had been to slap the taste
right out of Trish's mouth for flirting with Matt.
She
finally spotted Stephanie, still holed up in the temporary creative office
the bookers had set up, going over some scripts with Paul Heyman. Trish
waited patiently until the two were done discussing whatever storyline
plans they had for the roster in the upcoming months, before stepping inside.
Stephanie glanced up when she heard someone approaching, and a smile of
recognition lit up her face when she identified that someone as being Trish.
"Hey,
great match tonight," the youngest McMahon congratulated. Trish smiled.
"Thanks."
And then, anxiously, "You don't think the audience noticed I kind of botched
up the Stratusfaction?"
"Hey,
everyone makes mistakes," Stephanie consoled her. "Besides, it's not entirely
your fault; I heard Jeff Hardy complain to Rob Van Dam that the ropes were
loose tonight. One little slip isn't going to count against you."
Trish smiled in relief.
"Good,
because even the Internet smarts are praising how I've improved by leaps
and bounds from valet to wrestler, and I don't want to go online tomorrow
and find several dozen posts about how I've completely dropped the ball,"
she muttered. Stephanie looked amused by her words.
"Well,
not everyone's going to suddenly become a wrestling goddess overnight..."
she started to say.
Just
then, Hunter poked his head into the room, his hair still wet from the
shower he'd just taken after a grueling twenty-minute main event match.
"Hey,"
he called out to Stephanie. "You ready to go?"
"Just
a second," Stephanie murmured. Trish refrained from asking where the couple
planned on heading. She'd just seen Matt Hardy crossing the hall, anyway,
and the blonde Canadian quickly peeked out the room and flagged down the
dark-haired Hardy brother.
"Hi,
Matt," she greeted, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You want to
go out and celebrate my costing you your victory?"
At this, Matt, who had been smiling till then,
suddenly froze.
"Oh,
no," he mumbled, as a weary expression began to surface on Trish's face.
Matt lowered his head, absently running a hand through his long, dark locks,
as he apologized in a rush of words, "Trish, I'm so sorry! I had no idea
you expected us to go out; I've already made plans to hang with the guys
at a local bar!"
Trish said nothing, just stood there in disappointed
silence as Hunter and Steph watched on warily, wishing they could inconspicuously
leave the room somehow.
"I...I'll
cancel...if you want me to," Matt offered reluctantly, although the look
in his eyes clearly told his girlfriend he didn't quite want to make that
sacrifice. Trish raised her head, and tossed back her shining blonde hair
with a casual flip.
"It's
okay," she finally said, forcing a smile. "I mean, it's not like we have
to spend every moment together." Even though we haven't gone out in
practically months, she added silently in her head, choosing to keep
that thought, amongst others, unspoken. A smile lit up Matt's face, as
he leaned in for a brief kiss.
"Thanks,
Trish," he said gratefully. "You're the greatest." And he jogged off to
join his brother and the boys on their late-night partying.
Trish
stood leaning against the doorframe, watching Matt's disappearing back
as he sprinted down the hallway. Just then, she heard a subtle cough, as
she turned around just in time to see Hunter with his arm around Stephanie,
an uncomfortable look on his features.
"I'll,
um, go wait in the car," he muttered awkwardly, perhaps sensing that it
was time for one of those girl talks.
"Okay,
bye," Stephanie murmured, giving him a quick kiss on the lips as her onscreen
ex-husband, real-life boyfriend left the room. As soon as Hunter had left,
an uncomfortable silence settled in the room between the two women, before
Trish quickly cleared her throat and prepared to leave.
"I
should probably go now," she mumbled, avoiding looking Stephanie directly
in the eye. "I mean, I don't want to keep you from your night out with
Hunter or anything."
"Trish...are
you going to be all right?" Stephanie asked gently, a sympathetic expression
on her features. Trish shrugged, before forcing a smile on her face that
didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Sure
I will," she assured her friend. "I mean, it's just one broken date, that's
all. No need to get melodramatic over it."
"But
I've noticed that you and Matt haven't exactly been spending much time
together lately," Stephanie, not knowing how else to say it, spoke up delicately.
Trish internally winced; she had been hoping that nobody would notice that.
"It's
okay," she lied, conveniently leaving out the fact that she herself had
been worried that her relationship with Matt was going nowhere fast. "Just
because we're together doesn't mean we have to spend every single moment
with each other."
"Well,
if you're sure..." Stephanie's voice trailed off. She still looked doubtful.
Trish faked a smile.
"Sure
I'm sure," the blonde bombshell spoke confidently.
At
that moment, a trio of darkly handsome young men walked past the hallway,
and Stephanie flagged them down for a quick good-bye. Trish had no trouble
recognizing them as the men of Creed, and she tried to keep her eyes focused
on anything but Scott Stapp. She wound up pretending to be fascinated with
Mark Tremonti's boots, as Stephanie spoke with the rock band, smoothing
out some details about their Backlash performance and the differences between
a WWF audience and a Creed concert crowd. Just as Creed was prepared to
leave, Scott Stapp spoke up, his words aimed at Trish as he asked lightly,
"Hey, are you all right? You took some pretty nasty hits out there," referring
to her title match against Jazz and subsequent beating at the hands of
a "jealous" Lita for getting too intimate with Matt. Damn, Trish
silently swore. She had been hoping he wouldn't notice her. Hell, the Canadian
diva had been hoping so desperately Scott Stapp wouldn't see her, she'd
gone as far as practically hiding behind Stephanie McMahon! Raising her
head, Trish forced herself to look at Scott, but fiercely avoided making
eye contact, too afraid he might take one look and notice the internal
conflict she felt.
"Yeah,
I'll be all right," she stammered. "I just need to get back to my hotel
and rest up."
"Oh,
okay," Scott said. He then reached over, pulling something he'd been holding
behind his back throughought the whole chat with Stephanie, and handed
Trish a little white teddy bear wearing a miniature Kurt Angle shirt and
a patriotic American flag baseball cap.
"I
guess you don't really need a get-well care bear, then, but what the hey."
He shrugged, flashing a boyish grin as Stephanie's face lit up in delight
over the cute little thing and Trish furiously tried to stop blushing.
The blonde diva wordlessly accepted the little Kurt Angle teddy bear, as
Stephanie asked, "Where did you get this? I know we sell some pretty outrageous
merchandise, but to my knowledge, nobody has come up with the idea of WWF
care bears--not yet, anyway."
"Oh,
some fan was peddling a whole army of homemade wrestler teddy bears," Scott
said casually. "You should have seen the one for...well, I don't know his
name, but, you know, huge guy with the mask and the hellfire entrance?"
"That
would be Kane," Trish heard Stephanie say, as she silently hung on to her
soft care bear, trying to keep the delighted smile from showing on her
face.
"Well,
we've got to go," she heard Scott say, as he and the rest of Creed began
to exit the room. On an impulse, Trish reached over and gave Scott a quick
thank you hug, catching both the dashing lead vocalist and herself by surprise
at her gesture.
"Thanks,"
she murmured. "That was really sweet of you, even though I didn't get hurt."
"You're
welcome," Scott replied, flashing a boyish grin before getting ready to
leave. "See you two at Backlash, then."
"Bye,"
Stephanie called out, smiling as she waved after the rock band.
Stephanie
began to put on her coat, a smile on her face as she and Trish prepared
to leave the arena.
"Isn't
he a great guy?" the blue-eyed McMahon murmured, as she walked toward the
parking lot to join Hunter.
"Who?"
Trish wanted to know, sounding almost distracted.
"Scott
Stapp," Stephanie replied, as she added, "It was really sweet of him to
give you that care bear."
Trish glanced down at the cute little Kurt Angle
bear she cuddled in her arms, letting a sun-gold lock fall into her eyes.
"Yeah,"
she murmured. Clearing her throat, she added, "Yeah. He's a great guy..."
Her voice trailed off, before Trish finally ventured to say, "There's just
one problem with Scott, though."
At this, Stephanie stopped walking, and instead
turned around to stare at Trish.
"What?"
she wanted to know. Trish turned to her friend, a troubled expression on
her normally confident features, as she confessed, "I have a huge crush
on him!"