The 'I Remember' Series
Story 1 – I Remember
Rating overall: R, because I have to cut it down.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from the WWE. It's just that I'm borrowing them. And for Steph and Chris, I won't be returning them for a long, long time, but eventually, I will. :).
Feedback: Please. R&R. Come on, I need it. I need to know how I'm doing.
Author's notes: I was writing this in pencil, waaaay back when Jericho was still the Undisputed champion. I've altered the fic a bit, so that it would be a little more accurate and more adjusted to the time now. Sorry for that. Since this story was set quite sometime ago, I suppose I'll be making a bit of mistakes here and there, so bear with me. =). Remember, this is only FICTION, and it doesn't apply to real life.
This font is for the normal writing. Italics stand for speaking in reality during memory recalls. *Things that are within the stars are thoughts.* This: * means the scene is changed. This: ~*~ means that the scene from the memory goes back to reality. This: *** means the chapter has ended. ~ Things within the wavy lines are song lyrics. ~
Chapter 1 – Look Behind Rating: PG-13
Starbucks. Alone.
Quarrels and rivalries weren't quite the causes here. Stephanie just wanted to relax, time to think about a lot of things, and the perfect way to do it was coffee in a small Starbucks outlet. It had been a really long day, trying to finish work behind the scenes. It was harder than she really thought. There was the whole Hunter thing as well. Still not divorced with such irritatingness. If there ever was a word like that.
"Hey babe," A voice called her as she stared blankly at the ripples the stirrer made in the coffee. She groaned when she saw Jericho smiling, looking down at her.
"What do you want?"
"I saw you sitting my yourself, so I thought you looked lonely and I decided to keep you company."
"Go away." She gave a frown and stirred her coffee some more.
"Hey, I'm trying to be nice to you. Remember that," he said. She rolled her eyes. "Besides, no one else can make you feel better than the living legend, Chris Jericho." He stressed on the words 'living legend' and trailed the words as well, to make himself sound greater than he actually was. "So, what's wrong?"
"Nothing was quite so wrong until you came." He took it as half a compliment. "What do you want?"
"A friend is trying to relieve you of your misery. Appreciate it."
"Appreciating, appreciating," she sighed.
"You haven't told me what's the matter."
"Duh, the husband problems."
He seat himself across her, then put up his elbows on the table, in a praying manner and leaned his chin against his closed fists. "Why don't you divorce the guy? You hate him anyway."
"Daddy doesn't want us to file the papers yet. He has yet to take care of matters like the ownership of the company before me. I mean, what kind of dad is he sometimes?" She gave a sigh. "Right. He owns every single one of you wrestlers. And part of me as well."
"Hey, nobody, owns this champion-to-be here except me." His thumbs poked his solid chest, then set his forearms flat on the small table.
"Well, we're rich enough to sue your sorry ass. Anyway, life's pretty much a bitch now." She took a sip of coffee as Chris sat silent. "Steph, have you… Have you gotten an abortion in you life?"
Her eyes shot up at him. "What?"
He held up his hands in defence. "Just a question."
"…No." She set her cup down after gnawing on the styrofoam. "Why?"
"Like I said, just a question." He broke another moment of silence. "When did you first date?"
"What's with all the questions about my personal life?" she retorted.
"I'm making your day more interesting."
"My first instinct was that you came here to brag."
"Steph, I'm crushed that you think I brag."
She felt like laughing in his face. "I'm really not down now. I'm just having coffee." But since he brought up the subject, she was already kind of lying about her situation. He leaned forward. "Tell me."
She started off by copying his position. "It started when I was 16. Sophomore year in high school, and I saw him everyday. He sat two seats diagonally behind me to the left, and we threw notes to each other and launched gum at the teacher." She sighed. He gave a smile at the gum part. "He was 18, because he repeated 8th grade and sophomore year. It was weird that I don't remember his name or his face though. What's more, daddy never liked him…" Her cheek rested on her upheld palm, her eyes staring into space somewhere on the right of her table. "Well anyway," she snapped out of her trance, "I met him during the start of senior year…"
~*~
All I really remembered specifically about him was that he had this slightly below shoulder length hair in a ponytail, and a chin full off stubble. And he loved track pants and jerseys.
Stephanie slammed her locker shut. *They should change these. They rust and squeak and my books get all… gross.*
She tossed her hair back, with her bad slung over one shoulder, carrying her books on the side without the bag strap. She brushed off her halter-top and black pants to clear any filth that had spilled out from her locker. Her long brown hair fell straight behind her shoulders. She looked ready for a modelling interview, not for history class. As she glided through the hallway in her black sandal, the girls would stare at her annoyingly or in complete envy, their jaws dropping as she walked past. She entered class, which was still considerably empty, with only two people at their desks.
She sat down in her seat, leaving her bag on the inner left-head corner of her table leg. She popped some gum into her mouth and decided to wait and slack before lesson started. "Hey, babe!"
"Hey babe." Stephanie realised that she was the one being called, and lazily turned her head.
"What?"
"What's with the bitchy look?"
"Y'know, that's rude. If that's your way of picking girls up, you're gonna stay single until a hoe marries you in your eighties."
"Ooh," he taunted, pretending to be intimidated, "Sorry." He tried to irritate her with a cheesy smile.
"Stop it," she laughed. The morning bell sung in the hallway, and the students started to pour in slowly.
"Babe!" Stephanie rolled her eyes and turned. "What?" He made her sound like an animal… It was in a book… A pig was it? It didn't matter.
"What's your name?"
"Stephanie MacMahon. And don't you forget it. Now leave me alone." She turned back to find about most of the students already seated.
"Whoa. So you're the Stephanie. And your dad's the chairman of a wrestling company right?" A few heads turned at that.
"Thanks for giving away my identity. You know how fast the word travels and people will start to think I'm a rich snob, making a useful friend out of me. Nice going there."
"No sweat princess." She gave a sigh as the teacher walked in. "Morning class."
"Morning Baldo," she mumbled as the other students mumbled other things of their own.
"Now, has anyone heard of the accident Mr. Mildred had?" The class fell silent. Some were not even bothered to listen. "Well he had an accident with cycling yesterday."
"He cycles?" A student with her slick fringe covering one eye sniggered. She was chewing gum, like Stephanie and almost every other pupil. "I can't believe it! I mean I can. He's so fat, I thought the wheels would explode from too much pressure. And ooh, the cellulite on his legs… Some guy must've tripped the bike because of that." That class was smiling at the pictures in their heads. "And that face---"
"That's enough Miss Lindon. This is a traumatic event that has occurred." The teacher folded his arms. "Anyway, he teaches you math and science, if I'm right, and since he is in no condition to teach you, you will not see him for the next three weeks." Most of the student cheered, except for Stephanie. *Here comes the but…* she thought. "But." The high fives stopped. "It gives me great pleasure to tell you that I, Mr. Harrim, will be taking over with either history or geography lessons." The class groaned and spouted curses. "All right," he continued, "spit out your gum now before we begin our lesson." The same girl that commented on Mr. Mildred's cycling accident smiled. "Everyone on three." Those that had gum in their mouths got ready. "One." They reached into their bags or pockets and came up with a plastic spoon. "Two." They balled their gum and placed it on the space. The teacher protested, but it was too late. Stephanie just loved this part. "Three." They all propelled their coloured candy at their teacher and for him, he shielded his face with his hands and arms. To his dismay, about four to five out of twelve or thirteen had hit him.
"That's not funny Miss Lindon." She laughed as she looked at the other students and silently mocked him. "Well, let's see how you laugh at the principal's office, shall we?" Her jaw fell as her laughter stopped.
*
"Hey, you with the dangly earrings! MacMahon!"
"What?"
"I saw you actually paying attention to Harrim."
"I don't want to fail my semester." She was about to turn on her heel, until the girl stopped her again.
"The blonde guy, even if the hair colour ain't totally real… He likes ya." She had a huge grin on her face as she said that. "Oh, it's my turn now, if you'll excuse me," she said as a boy stepped out of the office. "See ya. By the way, the name's Pryce. Pryce Lindon."
"Well I'm off to the cafeteria now."
Stephanie hated the beginning of school terms. Even if it was the third week already. No one took care to notice her, and she was happy with that until that lousy jock did and gave away her status as a MacMahon. If only she could kick his ass.
At the cafeteria, I met the same guy again. While I was in line, he jumped the queue.
"Hey, you're cutting the line."
"Too bad. You just gotta deal."
"You have no right! Get out! You don't know who I--- HEY! Are you listening?!"
"Could you just shut, the hell, up? You're making a lot of noise." She huffed and put the matter aside, mumbling little curses at him. *Stupid idiotic evil asshole mule man-whore fruitcake no good slacker…* She skipped everything except the salads while artificial blondie walked off with oily, high-fat intakes. *…Irritating S.O.B horrible filthy sarcastic mean impossible---*
"Are you moving off? Because you're holding up the line," the guy standing behind her said. She apologised, hurrying away. She sat at the empty table farthest away from the bugger, and soon she was joined by Pryce. *Pryce is such a weird name,* she thought.
"You avoiding the guy?"
"Duh. I mean, he jumped right in front of me in the queue." Pryce gave it a little thought.
"Attention seeking. He likes ya." Stephanie huffed in her sarcastic way and looked back at the guy. Then she shook her head, obviously denying Pryce's hypothesis.
"No way! Look at the boneheads around him! They're all a class ahead of us. He's probably the dumbest jock of the lot."
"If he's dumb, you're probably dumb---"
"Hey! It was because I didn't study much last year. Otherwise, I wouldn't be having such a bad time now."
Price smiled. "So you really hate it here?" Stephanie blinked.
"Not that---"
"You know, I never worked hard in my life. Drugs, drinks and sex all the time. And I know I never will work hard for as long as I live. Take a look around in class. Boy with the bandanna? Once he has his eye on you he's ready to go after you and go to the most drastic measures to get laid. Not very nice of him but he can't help it. No one can change. And only they themselves can change."
"Wow. Pretty good words from a girl like you." She paused. "He sleeps with anyone?"
"Look at him. He's the dreamiest guy you'll ever lay your eyes on. Charming too y'know." She pointed at him, the table just behind Stephanie. "That's him. James Callow. Remember that once he has his target set, you'll never escape. And you'll most probably succumb… Friggin' playboy." Stephanie turned to look at him. She was right. His purple bandanna covered his head, and he had bright eyes. The dark goatee made him look even better. But like Pryce said… *Friggin' playboy.*
Unfortunately for her, after recovering from laughs and high fives with his small clique, he had noticed Stephanie looking at him. She immediately turned back to Pryce, who was watching Steph all the time, and shrugged. "Definitely no chance with me."
"Because you like the dumb jock over there don't---"
"Shutup!" She laughed light-heartedly. "…You know his name?"
"Sorry babe. He's never been in the same class as me. I know you're eager to know him, but love takes time."
"Me? Love? No Love. Nuh-uh. Stephanie waved her hands in front of her. "No, love." She just remembered her uneaten salad. *Who gives a damn about some salad anyway? I'm not hungry.*
Pryce may look and talk like a punk, but deep down inside, she's the perfect friend. I don't think she had many at the time. It was possible that I was her only one. That day when she told me about James, I didn't care. But what happened later in time was entirely different. The Barbie, well, he didn't come in that importantly until that later in time. Then, friendly love hate relationships grew more than that…
"Get out of my face."
"Saw you and the rock chick hanging out. Guess she was telling you about the class people." Stephanie tried to ignore him. "You know, you don't know me yet." He held out a hand. "My name's---"
Damn! I can't remember!
She took his hand. "Nice to have a little truce," she said.
"We were never enemies."
"Whatever." She walked back to class, the boy following.
~*~
"Look at the time." Stephanie frowned at her watch.
"I have the whole day," Jericho said, trying to keep her there and listen to her life story. Well, love life development in her adolescent years story.
"Well, I don't. There's always tomorrow, right?"
"Tomorrow's the next show… We won't have time."
"Before the show. 5 or 6?" she stood up, gulping down her coffee and then after setting it down, she left the shop. Jericho had given a nod before she left.
*James Callow… He sounds familiar…* He picked up the lip-stained cup and took a sip. He realised that it was a left over, frowning in disgust. The name still bugged him.
He could only wait for the next day.
***