A/N: ME and Definitely NOT you, Lil Mary and Trish and Jeffy 4ever. Thanks again for ur reviews! Hey Wrestlemania is coming up like this Sunday, any thoughts about it? The few things I'm regretting are: 1, No Breto Hart. I guess that meeting with Vince Mac didn't work out. Damn, I wanted 2 see him, MADNY u are ONE lucky person to even SEE the legendary Bret Hart in person!

Okay, 2, No Matt or Lita! I can understand why the WWE is pushing back Matt bcoz of his whole damn 'VERSION 1' persona (sheesh he cud atleast think about turning face already!) but y did they push their most athletic diva out of WMXX?! Alright 3, Goldberg's last match in the WWE. He could've stayed along longer but I guess he's into making movies now-a-days, but what the hell, at least Brock Lesner will get the beating of his life for not believing the Hype! I dunno . . . those r some of my regrets. Looking forward to seeing all the inter-promotional matches. OK I'll shut up, it seems like I always blab a lot before each chapter and sort of take away the (if any) impact from the story. I dunno why, its like I lost speed after the whole 75-review vanishing thing. Lol. I'll stop whining. Here's the latest chapter.

Chapter 22

As cold as the night was, the darkness made it even colder. The only source for heat was the warm heat-light above her loose golden hair, which kept her from freezing. Not that being in the state of clothe-less served any benefit for Trish Stratus, and the words she listened to only broke her apart, aiming for the burst of tears that were pushing from the inside of her soft eyes. Tears Trish did not know why it was forming, happiness, sadness? Did she really need to talk with Jeff Nero Hardy at this late of nights? Trish didn't know anything any more; she hardly could find the strength to speak out into the cellular-phone, so she listened. That was all her current state of mind could allow, listening to the words, no not words, feelings, Jeff Hardy expressed so well. Trish was leaned against the sink, her back towards the mirror she was only facing just a minute ago.

"I don't CARE for what anyone else thinks Trish, it's driving me INSANE," Jeff spoke, by this time Trish was sure he was talking about her, talking about them. But he hadn't said the words fully to her ears, only the few words that normally build up to that kind of assertion. "I've been thinking about you Trish, and basically that's all I can think about." He spoke, she could hear fragments of broken sobs in between his words, "I . . . I just don't understand this world anymore. Are . . . are you there?"

"YES! Yes I'm here . . ." She didn't wait another second to answer that, in her own voice, Trish could sense the vibrant sounds. "I'm always here."

"Trish," she bit her lip forcefully as these words washed over her ears, "I . . . the feelings, they haven't changed. Not for me, they never changed."

It was true. Trish realized that, she couldn't stop the tears from raining down her face after listening to that, she was crying.

"They won't —ever— change."

"J . . . Jeff . . ." But Trish Stratus was cut-off yet again, by his strong feelings. It was true, it was all true,

"Trish, I love you." He said it.

For the first second, Trish couldn't be sure if it was a dream or complete reality. Her brain stopped with her heartbeat, the wet lines of eye-drops raced down her plain cheeks. And she knew it for now and that same boy confirmed her, that same —man— confirmed her. The tears were of happiness, and her soul didn't say anything less.

~ His side ~

Jeff sat at the edge of his bed, for the last minute it seemed to be the hardest of his life. Harder than the risks of the death-defying aerial moves he did from atop of a ladder, harder than anything else did. His eyes dripped of tears because of what he just said . . . he loved her, he loved Trish Stratus. And nothing else mattered. The only thing that was important was her feelings, he waited, aimlessly, his heart beating more rapid than it used to beat, the only thing he wanted was the response of those 3-words from that woman. He could hear her breathing hard, his breath in the equal manner.

She only had to say 'I love you too', and he could rest easily forever, only the answer was what he wanted.

At the first second when he heard something being said, his blurred eyes popped up,

"Is that Jeff?"

If Trish said those words, his heart would've sunk and never could be saved, like the Titanic. But it wasn't Trish, it was Chris Jericho. "MAAN! What're you doing up this late? You're alright right?" Jeff's face was shaking; his eyes showed the purity of anger. Slowly, very slowly yet boldly, the Hardy cursed out the words, "Fuck you asshole."

And threw the phone to a wall, of course wrecking it. It didn't matter. Nothing else did.

~ Her side ~

Trish couldn't speak out a second word, she was ready to tell him her feelings were the same. That she loved him too, but it was Chris who came rushing through the door and took the cell from her shocked hands. And now, he stood there, clicking it off.

She didn't notice that Chris was in the same state as she was. : Naked.

"Funny." Chris muttered, "He just closed the damn line! What were you two talking about?"

She couldn't respond.

"Are you alright?" It took Trish more than a full minute to break away from that blank set of mind. "Hnn . . . hmm?" She hummed, looking up to meet Chris. "Sorry if I interrupted anything important, I was missing you back there. C'mon, lets get you to bed."

He never waited for what she had to say, instead, Chris dropped the cell on the basin and swept Trish off her feet with his strong arms. Lifting the diva from the ground, Chris carried her all the way out of the bathroom, the positioning of her body was balanced on his shoulders, her soft breasts were between his mouth so that Chris could nip and nibble them on the way to the bed. He dropped her there, climbed ontop of her and started to wash away anything from her mind as hard as he could, Chris Jericho sexed Trish until the remains of that dark night faded to a dawn, from her part he received nothing. The kisses weren't given back but they were accepted with ease, the suckling of her female organs didn't result her suckle back to his organs, it was like Trish was a statue to sleep with. He really couldn't make out what she was thinking. They didn't talk. Chris only touched her in every physical place possible, made her touch his physical forms, but he couldn't touch her emotionally as the man in the phone did . . . Trish still couldn't believe that her love belonged to another.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

New York City always seemed to wake from their everyday sleep at the early hour of 6:30 AM. The bright sun shined outside to represent a clear and beautiful morning, golden rays flashed over the white caves of snow on each corner of the streets. And it did highlight one building, shining through its glassed windows. Partly waking every creature who still remained asleep, but for those beautiful creatures who didn't receive the light of the sun, it was up to their loved-ones to gently wake them from their rest.

In her dreams, the raven-haired girl dreamed of a peaceful time, a time and place where the world wouldn't disturb her nor the man she sat on the bench with. Leaning forwards, she dreamed of being able to kiss that man and say out the words, which represented love, she wasn't scared anymore. As their lips parted, they hugged together, bonding as one and closing all distance or space between them. It was a feeling Amy Dumas felt for Matt Hardy, and she could hear his voice again, as if he was finally awake, calling her, gently brushing her hair with his fingers. " . . . Amy, Amy." She heard those soft voices speak her name. That one voice saying it over and over again, gently, softly, "Amez."

Finally her eyes opened, from the place she had her head rested on her forearms, she saw Matt looking at her, he was sitting in the bed, and 'he' was her Matthew. "Matt!" The dreams blew away from her mind at his sight, she almost jumped to see him, her arms wrapped around his neck and hugged him tight. "Oh God you're alright! I thought you were hurt, so badly hurt!" Amy's mouth was, of course, buried to his shoulder, through the muffled sounds, Matt could hear her crystal clear.

"Hey! Too much love!" He joked as of the tight grip, after a while of this, she released him, apologizing silently before seating properly to her chair.

"You look tired hun." Matthew clearly spoke, "You should go HOME. Rest a while, you were here all night long weren't you?" He was rather angry at that.

Looking to her eyes, Matt saw a look of guilt. "Aha," He said, "I knew it. COME ON Amy! You don't HAVE to do this everytime I'm injured y'know, I'm a wrestler for cryin' out loud. The HARDCORE Champion! Don't be concerned for ME that you put harm to yourself. You look tired."

"It's alright Matt, I . . . I'm alright."

"Well if that's the case you should go to the hotel room and get some rest." Her head was titled downwards; "I'll be FINE Amez! You need to take care of yourself, a beauty like you should never be struggling to stay up." He told her, but the struggle she was going through was far more important than resting, obviously Matt didn't realize that. He wasn't told, he didn't know. But he could sense something awkward about her, "Amez . . . something's wrong isn't it?" His voice changed, from the look in her eyes, in his girlfriend's eyes, Matthew Moore saw a look of hurt, a gaze of wound. In through it however, he also saw tears.

"Matt . . ." Amy bit her lip, trying to control herself from breaking apart. But she knew she couldn't hide anything from this man, not him.

The drops fell from her eyes,

"We need to talk." Matt never saw Amy so broken . . . so hurt. It made him feel the pain in his soul, she had been trying to say it for the last 3 days and he didn't listen . . . he had to listen now. Matt needed to listen this now, after those tears, something was dead wrong.

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There was a problem with the posting yesterday, that took me to post this tonight. Damn again, anyway, lemme know what you thought and plz come back next Thursday (6-days) for a complete chapter 23. I promise it won't be gaps in between.

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"Dude! You need to relax alright?" Randy Orton ducked away from being slammed on with a flying piece of furniture. "GOD DAMN DAVE!" He shouted.

"SHUT UP!" Batista's own flexed muscles wouldn't calm down for anything until his desired need was fulfilled. He was another monster, just like Kane, just like Brock, just like the Incredible Hulk (yeah I was watching the Hulk movie u got a problem wit tht?).

"Geez man! I never saw you this angry before." The Intercontinental titleholder of the Evolution group, slowly came closer to his teammate. Batista was snarling oxygen in and out, sweat pouring down his forehead and everything else were sweat is produced. "Randy . . ." He huffed, "I want it man! I want his TITLE! I want his GIRL!"

"Relax man, relax." But he didn't.

"ARRRRRRGH!" He burst into the extreme and grabbed Randy's collar to slam him against a wall, "I want Matt Hardy's belt man! I want to FUCK his GOD DAMN girl AGAIN!!! I want his life! I want EVERYTHING!" Though the teammate's coughs upon the release of the throat meant nothing for the beast. "You call yourself a Hardcore Champion Hardy-Boy?! You're gonna have to BEAT hardcore to BE hardcore! I'm coming for that title . . . hell YEAH I'm coming for that title."


(To BE Continued)