Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I wasn't Vince McMahon. **rummages through
a drawer, and pulls out a mirror** Nope, definatley not Vince. I own
nothing. Oh, and by the way, I am making no money off of this story so
please don't sue me. Trust me, it wouldn't be worth the court costs.
I glance around the hallway as I walk towards the lockeroom that Jay Reso and I share, looking for a friendly face. All I'm met with are cold looks; none of them believe me either. My role as Chris Jericho has distanced me from all of my old friends. I mean, it does make sense; none of the "good guys" can be seen publicly hanging out with one of RAW's biggest heels. Rather than face the hostile glares, I hurry into my lockeroom, closing the door and moving into the bathroom, just wanting a hot shower.
I turn on the water, shed my ring gear, and step inside, leaning against the cold tile wall. Scott Levy, a.k.a. Raven, would have believed me. He would have hurried down to my room and made sure that I was okay. But, unfortunatley for me, he had asked to be released from his contract right after the match against Jeff Hardy last Monday night. The WWE hadn't been treating him the way that he deserved to be treated, and not getting into the Royal Rumble was the last straw. So my best friend had sliced off his dredlocks, hung up his kilt, and quit. He probably isn't even watching RAW tonight.
I shake my head, knowing that I am being selfish. I should be thinking about Stacy, and the pain that I've caused her, not standing around feeling sorry for myself. So what if no one believes me. I feel a tear trickle down my cheek, followed by a second, and a third. The fact that everyone of my so-called "friends" doesn't believe me only makes me feel worse about what has happened.
I lean against the wall, crying for a long while. Finally I take a deep breath and step out of the shower, hurriedly drying and pulling on my clothes. I have to find a way to set things right. I need to make sure that Stacy's okay.
I walk out into the main room, and Jay Reso's sitting at the table, reading a book. He looks up at me, and my heart sinks. His eyes are filled with doubt, sadness, and maybe a trace of. fear. I give him a weak smile. "Hi Jay."
"Hiyah, Chris." His voice sounds unsure. "How's. how's it going?"
"Jay I need to know-"
He cuts me off. "Chris, man, I know what you're gonna ask. I don't know what to believe anymore."
Wordlessly, I shoulder my bag and walk out of the door. I hear him call after me, but I pretend that I don't hear him. It'd be way too painful for me to awnser right now. I start running towards the parking lot; I need to get out of there. Now.
I turn a corner and collide with Shawn Michaels, knocking him to the floor. I hold out a hand, helping him to his feet. "Shawn, I'm so sorry. I- "
He holds up a hand to silence me. "I know, man. For what it's worth, I really believe that you didn't mean to hurt that girl."
"Y-you do?" My voice is filled with hope. Finally, someone who believes me.
"Yeah. Shit happens." He sighs, glancing down at his watch. "I have to run. I'm late for a meeting with Bischoff. Take it easy, Chris." Shawn moves around the corner.
I take a deep breath and then continue towards the parking lot. I hurry over to the security booth, and sign out, looking up momentarily and seeing anger in Arn Anderson's eyes. Great, another person who doesn't believe me. I pull my keys from my jacket pocket and hit the unlock button on my rental car. First thing's first. I need to know that Stacy's okay.
Author's notes- Okay, I wanted to start make one thing clear. I don't believe that Stacy being hit by that chair was scripted. Reason one; I sketch as well as write. Thus, I am good at reading facial emotions and body language, and if Chris Irvine was acting, he deserves an Oscar, because he completely had me fooled. Reason two; Have you ever seen Test break down like that before, in ANY scripted event? Because I haven't. And finally, Reason three; if it was scripted, Jericho would have come up behind Test while he was distracted and nailed him with the chair. That's how his character is. This story is based on MY opinion that this was a scripted event gone wrong. I honestly don't think that she was supposed to be standing there. Everyone is entitled to his/her own opinions, but please do me a favor. If you think that it was scripted, PLEASE don't bring it up in the reviews. I'm sorry to bring it up, but it's driving me nuts that I'm getting a bunch of reviews/e-mails saying how most of wrestling is fake. Trust me, I know it is.
Any reviews/ e-mails OTHER than the ones mentioned above are more than welcome. Thanks a bunch.
~Holly
P.S.- I just need to say it. RAVEN, WE MISS YOU!!!!!
I glance around the hallway as I walk towards the lockeroom that Jay Reso and I share, looking for a friendly face. All I'm met with are cold looks; none of them believe me either. My role as Chris Jericho has distanced me from all of my old friends. I mean, it does make sense; none of the "good guys" can be seen publicly hanging out with one of RAW's biggest heels. Rather than face the hostile glares, I hurry into my lockeroom, closing the door and moving into the bathroom, just wanting a hot shower.
I turn on the water, shed my ring gear, and step inside, leaning against the cold tile wall. Scott Levy, a.k.a. Raven, would have believed me. He would have hurried down to my room and made sure that I was okay. But, unfortunatley for me, he had asked to be released from his contract right after the match against Jeff Hardy last Monday night. The WWE hadn't been treating him the way that he deserved to be treated, and not getting into the Royal Rumble was the last straw. So my best friend had sliced off his dredlocks, hung up his kilt, and quit. He probably isn't even watching RAW tonight.
I shake my head, knowing that I am being selfish. I should be thinking about Stacy, and the pain that I've caused her, not standing around feeling sorry for myself. So what if no one believes me. I feel a tear trickle down my cheek, followed by a second, and a third. The fact that everyone of my so-called "friends" doesn't believe me only makes me feel worse about what has happened.
I lean against the wall, crying for a long while. Finally I take a deep breath and step out of the shower, hurriedly drying and pulling on my clothes. I have to find a way to set things right. I need to make sure that Stacy's okay.
I walk out into the main room, and Jay Reso's sitting at the table, reading a book. He looks up at me, and my heart sinks. His eyes are filled with doubt, sadness, and maybe a trace of. fear. I give him a weak smile. "Hi Jay."
"Hiyah, Chris." His voice sounds unsure. "How's. how's it going?"
"Jay I need to know-"
He cuts me off. "Chris, man, I know what you're gonna ask. I don't know what to believe anymore."
Wordlessly, I shoulder my bag and walk out of the door. I hear him call after me, but I pretend that I don't hear him. It'd be way too painful for me to awnser right now. I start running towards the parking lot; I need to get out of there. Now.
I turn a corner and collide with Shawn Michaels, knocking him to the floor. I hold out a hand, helping him to his feet. "Shawn, I'm so sorry. I- "
He holds up a hand to silence me. "I know, man. For what it's worth, I really believe that you didn't mean to hurt that girl."
"Y-you do?" My voice is filled with hope. Finally, someone who believes me.
"Yeah. Shit happens." He sighs, glancing down at his watch. "I have to run. I'm late for a meeting with Bischoff. Take it easy, Chris." Shawn moves around the corner.
I take a deep breath and then continue towards the parking lot. I hurry over to the security booth, and sign out, looking up momentarily and seeing anger in Arn Anderson's eyes. Great, another person who doesn't believe me. I pull my keys from my jacket pocket and hit the unlock button on my rental car. First thing's first. I need to know that Stacy's okay.
Author's notes- Okay, I wanted to start make one thing clear. I don't believe that Stacy being hit by that chair was scripted. Reason one; I sketch as well as write. Thus, I am good at reading facial emotions and body language, and if Chris Irvine was acting, he deserves an Oscar, because he completely had me fooled. Reason two; Have you ever seen Test break down like that before, in ANY scripted event? Because I haven't. And finally, Reason three; if it was scripted, Jericho would have come up behind Test while he was distracted and nailed him with the chair. That's how his character is. This story is based on MY opinion that this was a scripted event gone wrong. I honestly don't think that she was supposed to be standing there. Everyone is entitled to his/her own opinions, but please do me a favor. If you think that it was scripted, PLEASE don't bring it up in the reviews. I'm sorry to bring it up, but it's driving me nuts that I'm getting a bunch of reviews/e-mails saying how most of wrestling is fake. Trust me, I know it is.
Any reviews/ e-mails OTHER than the ones mentioned above are more than welcome. Thanks a bunch.
~Holly
P.S.- I just need to say it. RAVEN, WE MISS YOU!!!!!