Author's Note: Like all the other fics out there, I'll make a fic about Christmas too. It features wrestlers that I like (see my list in my profile). All of the chapters will feature songfics… to make the chapters more interesting lol. It's my goal to finish this before Christmas so… flame me if I haven't updated within one week!

Disclaimer and Copyright: Are you dumb enough to believe I own everything?

Summary: The superstars and divas try to overcome their love complications before Christmas.

Content: Trish Stratus and Chris Jericho

Song: Christina Aguilera's Impossible

Timeline: Somewhere near to Christmas

It's impossible
It's impossible to love you
If you don't let me know what you're feeling
It's impossible for me to give you what you need
If you're always hidin' from me I don't know what hurt you
I just, I wanna make it right
Cos boy I'm sick and tired of trying to read your mind

Trish Stratus was heartbroken when she overheard the conversation between Chris Jericho and Christian. She was foolish and gullible enough to believe that Jericho actually liked her.

"Trish? You look kinda spaced out. What's eating you?" Lita asked.

"It's nothing, Li. I'm fine," Trish gulped down her urge to cry.

"Are you… going to… cry?" Lita asked again.

"It's nothing okay, Li! I just have something in my eye…" Trish softened her voice.

"If you say so…" Lita mumbled, heading to the showers.

Trish quickly packed her bag, double-checking if she left anything, and left before Lita could come out and interrogate her. Trish knew Lita was only trying to help but right now, Trish didn't need the third degree from anyone.

"See you, Trish," Victoria said as Trish opened the door.

"Yeah, you too, Vic. If Lita comes out, tell her I already went back, okay?" Trish requested from the black-haired Diva.

"Sure," Victoria nodded before stripping her ring clothes to take a shower as well.

It's impossible (impossible)
Oh baby it's impossible for me to love you
It's the way it is
It's impossible (impossible)
Oh baby it's impossible
If you makin' it this way

Chris Jericho spotted the blond Canadian Diva walking to her car in the parking lot. He turned and signaled to Christian, giving him a thumbs-up. Chris was planning to get Trish in bed and have Christian fork over the money.

"Hey Trish," Chris said smoothly as Trish got inside her vehicle.

"Hey Chris," Trish answered as she started the ignition.

"Christian already left in his rental car and the other superstars are still in the arena and I don't want to get in the same car with René and Sylvan. They talk too much French. So do you mind if I hitch a ride back to the hotel with you?" Chris asked.

"Okay, sure, why not?" Trish smiled easily at him.

Chris smiled too but he was congratulating himself. He could easily picture him and Trish in bed and getting the money the next day. Christian would have a hard time trying to convince Lita. The fiery redhead was as tough as nails. Chris had chuckled when he wished Christian good luck.

They reached the hotel minutes later. Trish wasn't talking to him. Chris didn't find it that odd. She never liked to talk first. Chris always had to start the conversation.

"So where's your room, Chris?" Trish asked.

"It's… room 223. But… uh… I can't find my key. Can I crash yours until Christian comes back?" Chris pretended to look horrified.

"Yeah, okay," Trish said almost instantly.

This was too easy for him. Trish was as gullible as Hansel and Gretel. They went to Trish's room, which was a couple of rooms away. When they reached there, Trish told Chris to wait outside first while she 'got ready'.

But after she closed the door, Chris unmistakably heard the door lock click. He frowned and knocked on the door. He didn't expect Trish to lock the door.

"Uh… Trish…" Chris began.

"Yes Chris?" Trish asked from the crack of the door.

"I thought you said while you got ready… why'd you lock the door?" Chris asked hesitantly.

"Well… I thought it'd be easier for you to wait outside. Or… why don't you tell Christian that you had sex with me so you can collect your money?" Trish said in a venomous tone. Chris's mouth gaped open like a goldfish.

"But… Trish… I…" he tried to come out with a flimsy excuse to throw at her face.

"Save it, Chris," she said icily before closing the door firmly.

Impossible to make it easy
If you always tryin' to make it so damn hard
How can I, how can I give you all my love, baby
If you're always, always puttin' up your guard
This is not a circus
Don't you play me for a clown
How long can emotions keep goin' up and down

As soon as she closed the door, Trish flung herself on the bed and cried her heart out. She never understood why life was so cruel to her. Every man she dated, it ended up in a disaster.

Except her relationship with Jeff Hardy. Jeff loved her for the woman she was. But they broke up because he had to leave the WWE and she was busy to visit him on a regular basis.

Her cell phone rang shrilly. Trish fumbled around in her travel bag until she found it. The caller said that it was Lita.

"Hello?" Trish sniffled, trying to erase the croak in her voice.

"Trish? Is that you? God girl, why are you crying? Where are you right now?" Lita asked.

"Hey Li, yes it's me. I found out something really bad. I'm at my hotel room right now. Can you come here immediately?" Trish asked.

"Victoria told me that you went back to the hotel. I'm driving to the hotel. I'll be right there, girl," Lita said and hung up.

Trish walked over to the bathroom and glared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She washed her face, washing away all her tears and sorrows as well.

"Trish? It's me," Lita's voice said at the door a few minutes later.

Trish hurried to the door and opened it to let her best friend in.

It's impossible (impossible)
Oh baby it's impossible for me to love you
It's the way it is
It's impossible (impossible)
Oh baby it's impossible
If you keep treating me this way
Over, over (over and over)

Chris kept stealing glances at Trish across the departure hall. She looked subdued and was standing beside Lita, who also kept glaring at him every five seconds. Christian was given a straight pep rally, courtesy of the fiery redhead, who was appalled at their guts for betraying them like that.

"No wonder they looked so forlorn. American men don't have any respect or courtesy for women!" Sylvan Grenier was saying loudly to René Dupree.

The word had spread like wildfire. Everyone had thought that it was a storyline but it was actually real. Chris gritted his teeth. La Résistance definitely had the courtesy to remind Chris and Christian about it every five seconds too.

"Listen here, you junior assclown. Christian and I are Canadians. What part of Canadian do you not understand?" Chris growled at the French-Canadian man.

"I know that but the respect and courtesy you have for women is equal to how Americans treat the women too," Sylvan simply replied.

The flight for the Canadians to go back to Canada finally arrived. The superstars and divas exchanged hugs and handshakes as they prepared to go back home for Christmas break.

Chris checked his ticket. He was in seat 14C. He wondered who the lucky person was to sit near him.

"Hello… there?" he stopped short when he saw who was his seating companion.

Seated at the seat next to him was Trish Stratus, who glared up at him.

"Uh… Trish, look, I'm really sorry," Chris tried to apologize.

Trish looked out of the window and didn't answer him. Chris sighed. He gave up totally. Trish was being stubborn and pig-headed about it. He looked around for any Canadian superstar who was willing to exchange tickets with him.

"Hey Grenier!" he called to the La Résistance member.

Impossible baby (impossible, impossible)
If you makin' it this way, this way
Oh baby, it's impossible
If you makin' it this way

Trish felt someone sit on the seat that Jericho was supposed to sit. She refused to turn to face him or her.

"Trish…" the person began.

"Jericho, I told you that I'm not talking to you," Trish snapped.

"Whoa… Mademoiselle, I'm not Chris Jericho, the Canadian turned American. If you look carefully…" Trish turned around.

She blushed a fiery red when she saw that it was Sylvan, not Jericho.

"Sorry, I just thought that…" Trish started.

"Ah, it's not a problem. I heard about it. You are right to be angry at him," Sylvan said in his cute French accent.

Hey, you know, he's quite a looker too, Trish thought to herself, smiling as the cute French-Canadian launched into an interesting conversation.

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