Yay, chapter 9 is finally up. Took me a while, I know, but there ya go.
Something new should be up shortly after Thanksgiving!
[And years from now
[I'll turn around and see
[The girl I left behind me
"Do ya want some more?"
Amy lifted her head up at the sound of someone's voice, saw the glass she was holding up, shook her head, and then rested back down on the couch.
"When's the room going to stop spinning?" Casey mumbled, thinking she was putting the cup back on the table. It teetered on the edge and Rowen caught it just before spilling.
He rolled his eyes and handed them each a couple of Tylenol. "As soon as you guys get over your hangovers, that's when."
"I'm not drunk." Amy protested.
"Oh you're not?" Rowen countered. "Then get up and walk towards me in a straight line."
Casey looked at Amy almost too expectantly and nodded. "I think you can do it. We're not drunk." She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "We're slightly intoxicated."
"Even better." Ian muttered from behind the book he was reading.
"Ya know Ian, you can bite me." Amy said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She grabbed Casey's outstretched hand to pull herself up and only succeeded in causing both of them to fall to the floor in hysterics.
"It's kind of funny and pathetic at the same time." Ian determined honestly. "Only I'm thinking that it's more pathetic then it is funny." Rowen agreed and they watched the two on the floor who couldn't get up because they were laughing so hard.
They heard somebody clearing his or her throat from the doorway and stopped laughing long enough to see Jet standing there, her hands on her hips. "You guys are really pathetic." She said, shaking her head with a small smile. She took a seat next to Ian.
"So what did you do to them last night?"
She shrugged innocently. "We went to a few clubs and it is so not my fault that they don't know how to hold their alcohol."
"I have such a headache." Amy complained loudly, covering her head with a pillow.
Ian reached over and removed it off her face. "No Amy, we don't try to kill ourselves when we're drunk."
She glared at him and pushed the hair out of her face with one hand. She reached over and put her free hand on his shoulder. "Ian, you're kind of cute. Why did we ever break up?"
"Because you chose your wrestling career over me." Ian answered bitterly, getting off the couch and stalking to his room.
Rowen watched after him and, after making sure there was no sharp objects around the two, got up and followed Ian to his room. He knocked on the door and then pushed it open slowly. It took his eyes a while to adjust to the pitch-black room but he saw a lump on the bed and assumed it was Ian. "Hey, anything you wanna talk about?"
The lump shook his head and continued staring up at the ceiling.
"Is that really what happened?" Rowen asked, not really expecting an answer.
There was a shrug.
"Is that a 'you don't know' or a 'yes but you don't really feel like talking about it'?" Rowen asked, growing increasingly impatient at the lump's lack of information.
"That was a 'you should probably just shut up while you're ahead' kind of shrug. I don't really feel like talking about it so, in turn, the subject should be dropped." Ian responded sharply.
Rowen reluctantly agreed and stared around the dark room with disinterest.
Ian kicked him hard with his foot. "Why aren't you gone yet?"
"Why do you have such sharp, pointy feet?" Rowen retorted, rubbing his back where he'd been kicked.
"Fuck you."
"No, for real."
"Okay, for real, fuck you." Ian snapped.
Rowen got off the bed in time to avoid another kicking and stood in the doorframe. "You got some problems man." He observed. He ducked and missed getting hit by the flying show by mere inches. He rolled his eyes and shut the door, allowing Ian to wallow in his own self-pity.
*~*~*~*
Shane McMahon looked into the cab warily before actually getting in.
"Where to?"
"Can you take me to this place?" Shane asked, handing the driver the piece of paper with Amy's address on it.
The driver smirked and nodded. "Sure thing buddy."
They drove in silence until he pulled to a stop in front of this shabby, run-down apartment complex. "It's gonna be seven-fifty."
Shane glanced out the window with a look of pure disgust on his face, not even trying to cover it up. "This can't be the place." He said finally.
"This is the place." The man responded sarcastically. "Now give me the money and get out."
"Fine, there ya go." Shane muttered, handing the man a ten-dollar bill and watched as he sped off. He turned around and glanced at the building that seemed to be falling apart right in front of his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand securely around his wallet and approached the building with caution.
Shane pressed the buzzer and waited for some response.
"Yeah?"
"Um." Shane cleared his throat. "I'd like to know if someone is living at your complex."
There was laughing, and then. "Yeah, there are forty-six people living at our complex." He mocked.
Shane clenched his teeth. "Thanks for that assessment."
"C'mon, you think I know what assessment means smart ass?"
"No, but is there an Amy Dumas living here?"
"Dumas?" The voice asked. "Lemme check." There was some rustling and his voice came back over the speaker. "She was scheduled to move in here, but she never showed up."
Shane felt his knees start to grow weak and he held onto the rail, and then quickly pulled his hand away from the rickety mess. "Okay, thank you."
Please read and review!!
[And years from now
[I'll turn around and see
[The girl I left behind me
"Do ya want some more?"
Amy lifted her head up at the sound of someone's voice, saw the glass she was holding up, shook her head, and then rested back down on the couch.
"When's the room going to stop spinning?" Casey mumbled, thinking she was putting the cup back on the table. It teetered on the edge and Rowen caught it just before spilling.
He rolled his eyes and handed them each a couple of Tylenol. "As soon as you guys get over your hangovers, that's when."
"I'm not drunk." Amy protested.
"Oh you're not?" Rowen countered. "Then get up and walk towards me in a straight line."
Casey looked at Amy almost too expectantly and nodded. "I think you can do it. We're not drunk." She wiped her nose on her sleeve. "We're slightly intoxicated."
"Even better." Ian muttered from behind the book he was reading.
"Ya know Ian, you can bite me." Amy said, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She grabbed Casey's outstretched hand to pull herself up and only succeeded in causing both of them to fall to the floor in hysterics.
"It's kind of funny and pathetic at the same time." Ian determined honestly. "Only I'm thinking that it's more pathetic then it is funny." Rowen agreed and they watched the two on the floor who couldn't get up because they were laughing so hard.
They heard somebody clearing his or her throat from the doorway and stopped laughing long enough to see Jet standing there, her hands on her hips. "You guys are really pathetic." She said, shaking her head with a small smile. She took a seat next to Ian.
"So what did you do to them last night?"
She shrugged innocently. "We went to a few clubs and it is so not my fault that they don't know how to hold their alcohol."
"I have such a headache." Amy complained loudly, covering her head with a pillow.
Ian reached over and removed it off her face. "No Amy, we don't try to kill ourselves when we're drunk."
She glared at him and pushed the hair out of her face with one hand. She reached over and put her free hand on his shoulder. "Ian, you're kind of cute. Why did we ever break up?"
"Because you chose your wrestling career over me." Ian answered bitterly, getting off the couch and stalking to his room.
Rowen watched after him and, after making sure there was no sharp objects around the two, got up and followed Ian to his room. He knocked on the door and then pushed it open slowly. It took his eyes a while to adjust to the pitch-black room but he saw a lump on the bed and assumed it was Ian. "Hey, anything you wanna talk about?"
The lump shook his head and continued staring up at the ceiling.
"Is that really what happened?" Rowen asked, not really expecting an answer.
There was a shrug.
"Is that a 'you don't know' or a 'yes but you don't really feel like talking about it'?" Rowen asked, growing increasingly impatient at the lump's lack of information.
"That was a 'you should probably just shut up while you're ahead' kind of shrug. I don't really feel like talking about it so, in turn, the subject should be dropped." Ian responded sharply.
Rowen reluctantly agreed and stared around the dark room with disinterest.
Ian kicked him hard with his foot. "Why aren't you gone yet?"
"Why do you have such sharp, pointy feet?" Rowen retorted, rubbing his back where he'd been kicked.
"Fuck you."
"No, for real."
"Okay, for real, fuck you." Ian snapped.
Rowen got off the bed in time to avoid another kicking and stood in the doorframe. "You got some problems man." He observed. He ducked and missed getting hit by the flying show by mere inches. He rolled his eyes and shut the door, allowing Ian to wallow in his own self-pity.
*~*~*~*
Shane McMahon looked into the cab warily before actually getting in.
"Where to?"
"Can you take me to this place?" Shane asked, handing the driver the piece of paper with Amy's address on it.
The driver smirked and nodded. "Sure thing buddy."
They drove in silence until he pulled to a stop in front of this shabby, run-down apartment complex. "It's gonna be seven-fifty."
Shane glanced out the window with a look of pure disgust on his face, not even trying to cover it up. "This can't be the place." He said finally.
"This is the place." The man responded sarcastically. "Now give me the money and get out."
"Fine, there ya go." Shane muttered, handing the man a ten-dollar bill and watched as he sped off. He turned around and glanced at the building that seemed to be falling apart right in front of his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand securely around his wallet and approached the building with caution.
Shane pressed the buzzer and waited for some response.
"Yeah?"
"Um." Shane cleared his throat. "I'd like to know if someone is living at your complex."
There was laughing, and then. "Yeah, there are forty-six people living at our complex." He mocked.
Shane clenched his teeth. "Thanks for that assessment."
"C'mon, you think I know what assessment means smart ass?"
"No, but is there an Amy Dumas living here?"
"Dumas?" The voice asked. "Lemme check." There was some rustling and his voice came back over the speaker. "She was scheduled to move in here, but she never showed up."
Shane felt his knees start to grow weak and he held onto the rail, and then quickly pulled his hand away from the rickety mess. "Okay, thank you."
Please read and review!!