The Illustration Trilogy
Part 1 - Can't Wait to Love You (Chris Jericho/Trish Stratus)
Rating: PG13 for language, and later mildly sexual scenes.
Time Frame: None, really, though there are references and mentions of 2002. No current storylines that the characters are in play a part in this fiction.
Disclaimer: The characters are all property of the WWE. The actors are property of themselves.
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It took a lot of convincing, but Li finally managed to get me out of the room. She took me to a diner a few blocks down from our hotel. It was an old Victorian-looking building, so elegantly presented from the outside, but so comfortable an atmosphere inside. After all of the pleading Lita had to do to bring me along with her, I was glad I ended up going after all.
I didn't order much to eat. Day by day my appetite changed so much. One day I'd be too depressed to eat, and the next I would stuff myself out of anxiety. Lita ordered enough for herself to feed both of us, so I ended up eating half of her meal and hardly touching mine.
Lita did a great job of getting my mind off of myself and my problems. Of all of my friends, Lita was the most spirited, and she'd put her whole life on hold to make others' better. There's not a single thing I could do for her that would repay all she's helped me with.
We spent another hour or so after finishing our food just talking, but Li never mentioned that I looked sad or depressed. She never brought up what we had just talked about earlier in the hotel room. I was extremely grateful that she could leave that topic alone, because it made being there a whole lot easier for me.
That was the last weekend for a few months that we had off. No shows to go to, no autograph signings, no appearances. Li and I had the whole weekend to relax, but I hardly managed to do any of that. I wanted to see Chris so badly it hurt. Every time I looked at him, I felt a knife pierce through my heart, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, I desperately wanted to see him that weekend.
He didn't have to talk to me; didn't even have to look at me. I just wanted to see him. Maybe if I saw his face in person I could get the image of him out of my head. It probably wouldn't work so simply, but I figured an image stuck in your memory was like a song you can't get out of your head - if you listen to it once, it's not lingering in your mind anymore.
My reasoning was always terrible. If I saw Chris in person once, he'd still be on my mind twenty-four hours a day. I couldn't help falling in love with him, and I'd known for a while then that I really was. Of all the men I'd been with in the past, which honestly there haven't been too many (I always loved being single) I had never felt for someone like I did for Chris.
I never believed that any of the men in my life really loved me. It's hard to accept someone proclaiming love to you when they barely know you inside. The only reason I ever thought any of them "loved" me was for my body, my fame, anything like that. When one of them expressed their love to me, I never found the ability inside to love them back, because I couldn't return what I didn't feel was true.
The way I thought back then was perfectly reasonable: if someone claims it, but doesn't truly love you, you can't truly love them, because in your heart, you don't feel a real, true, honest connection or love. I used to believe that was human nature; that no one can love without being loved.
I felt so foolish for believing that theory long ago, because since then, I myself had proven it wrong. Chris hated me and I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone in my life. Though I've tried to rule out the possibility of what I feel actually being love, I know inside of me that I'll never feel that way for anyone else as long as I live. That alone proves that it's love.
When Lita and I weren't working tighter schedules, the two of us and a few of the girls would take a few days for ourselves all the time. It's just been so hard to do that anymore, so Li finally getting me out of the apartment was a blessing.
After we had some to eat, and a long talk about how hectic work has been, old memories, a lot of little things here and there, we took a walk from the diner about a half-mile down the street. We stopped at a bar for a short while to pick up a few drinks and head back to the hotel.
As soon as I stepped in the door, the smell of beer and whiskey poured from the inside of the bar into the street. It was so thick in the air, I almost gagged when I took a breath. Li winced when we first walked inside, but we soon got used to the heavy smell.
It was a typical looking bar, dim lighting, a couple old card and pool tables scattered in the back, football on the television. It was pretty crowded inside for a late Sunday night, a little uncomfortable for me. I never did much bar-hopping without Lita, and we'd mostly follow the guys into bars after Raw went off air, not on our own. She'd always joke with me about being stalked by drunken fifty-somethings back to the hotel if we went alone without the guys.
Li turned to me, mumbling some words I could barely hear over the clutter of voices in the bar. I was somewhat able to read her lips, so leaned over her shoulder to respond.
"Get me whatever you're having," I had to almost yell over the drowning mist of voices in the air for her to hear me. She nodded and walked to the counter while I walked, hands pocketed in my jacket, to the back of the bar to look at some old tilted pictures that hung on the wall.
As I scanned the wall, sidling leftward across the floor, I picked up several bits of conversation behind me that I had no right listening into; mostly casual talk about cars and sports and chicks. Amongst the chatter of meaningless everyday bar conversation, I recognized a laugh. A sort of high-pitched, warm giggle, much too familiar to be a random drunk girl. That was definitely Miss Stacy Keibler.
I twirled around to face her, ready to greet and chat with her, but the very second I opened my mouth, my words were stifled. She, Chris, Christian, and Matt were sitting less than ten feet away at a table packed between others. I jumped at the sight of them, and quickly scooted backward against the wall.
Immediately my eyes locked on Chris's face, as I knew they would the second I saw him. A bright smile clear and distinct on his face, he held Stacy's hand next to him below the table. Christian leaned over the table and said something to Chris, then he and Matt left the table to pick up something else at the bar. Empty glasses sat in front of Chris and Stacy, who were now alone at the table.
The two of them faced away from me, but I had a clear view of them from the wall. Stacy leaned into him, resting her head in the nook below his shoulder. Her hair fell over his chest, and he brushed the back of his free hand over her head, gently placing his cheek on it. He raised their hands, fingers interlocked, out from under the table, and pressed his lips to the back of Stacy's small hand.
I'd seen them together before, but it just dawned on me as I watched them that it was serious, what they had. Stacy was with the man who should have been mine, and she was devoted to him in the sincerest of ways. It was obvious, and I refused to believe it until I saw them together, in a bar of all places.
Lita spotted me at the back of the bar, and she followed the wall to get to me instead of weaving through the tables. She noticed that I was staring at something, and followed my gaze to Chris and Stacy. She joined me in looking on for a little while.
"Ahhh… love," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She handed me the drink, and watched as I raised the glass to my lips and took a long, thin sip, my eyes never leaving the couple.
"Yeah, really….. love…," I replied. Those words pained my heart so greatly, even though I just barely breathed them. I noticed that my response had sounded a bit sorrowful and depressive. I never could hide my feelings well in the presence of Chris.
As we looked on at them, my own conscience started malfunctioning. I wanted to just dive between them and pull Chris away from Stacy's gaze. I couldn't do that though… not to Stacy. Not after seeing how much she truly did love him. But Chris, on the other hand… I still had this idea that if he couldn't love me, he couldn't love anyone at all.
Lita turned to face me, but I was too transfixed on Chris to pay mind to her. She traced my gaze back to the table, and then to me again.
"I don't think they'd be too happy that we're talking about 'em."
I shook my head and finally managed to turn away from them and look at Li. "They're used to it," I said. "Everyone else does. It's mostly because of him." I gestured toward Chris, and took one more long sip in a series of gulps, finishing my drink. I couldn't even tell what it was Lita had ordered us, but it went down smooth and refreshing.
"Well, Chris has never had a relationship with anyone in the business. That alone is bound to start some talk. I don't think I ever met any of his past girlfriends." Lita hummed, and looked back at the table. I couldn't focus on anything she said. Her words ran through my head in a blur and I couldn't, at the time, distinguish any of the thoughts she had pointed out.
It took so much to just stop my eyes from watering. Of course I wasn't the only one who knew what it felt like to watch the person you love act affectionate with someone else. This wasn't Stacy's fault though. She didn't even know. She, along with everyone else, thought I still hated him.
How hate could turn to love so quickly was beyond me. It was the most sudden change of heart I'd ever experienced. Maybe it was the glint of those lights in his eyes as he looked at me, or maybe just how he looked at me. He had never seemed so warm before. So… not Chris.
Maybe it was just the warmth that radiated from him as we walked through the streets. Maybe, the chivalry in him that I'd never seen before, when he seemed to truly care for me by offering his jacket. Maybe, how he insisted that I go with him, when he could have just as easily waited for someone else he liked better.
Watching him act with Stacy how he did with me that night, so concerned, calm, affectionate, generous, selfless… it only made me want him more. It made me pine for him. It made me unable to stand that I wasn't Stacy. It made me so fucking jealous, I just…
"What was this, Li? I'm gonna get some more." I held up the glass and cocked my head at her.
"Special blend… I wanted to try something new, so it's not generic. Actually I have no God damned clue what he even called it, just ask him to refill it." She took a sip. "It's good though, ain't it?"
I didn't bother to respond. I walked slowly through the tables, trying to stay out of both Chris' and Stacy's line of vision. I paused for a few seconds near their table while Matt and Christian were walking back, attempting to hide myself in a group of people. I heard Chris whisper lightly into Stacy's ear, and I told myself that I was just "overhearing" rather than spying.
"Stace..." He nudged her up off of his shoulder and kept his face close to hers, holding her hand cupped in his on her cheek. He paused, looked downward, and swallowed before making eye contact with her again. "Would you ever leave me?"
The way he said that to her, so vulnerable and delicate sounding, made me want to cry. I raised my hand to my mouth and bit the tip of one of my fingers between my teeth, continuing to watch and listen. I just prayed Lita wasn't watching this happen. She'd know right away something was up with me.
Stacy smiled at him reassuringly. A warm, loving smile, that I could read so very easily. She turned her palm away from her cheek and locked her fingers with his, lowering both their hands between them. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his, looking up into his eyes, whispering onto his lips, "You'd have to really screw up for me to ever want to do that."
Then she kissed him, and it was too much for me to bear. I felt cold chills run down my spine, and then everywhere on my body. My hands were shaking furiously, and I nearly dropped the glass in one of my hands. I turned and mustered up the energy to just continue on toward the bar. I didn't want to order, I didn't want to be there. Why did I have to witness that, to hear those words?
I almost slammed my glass on the counter, pulling up a stool. I sat down on it and nearly collapsed right there. I folded my arms in front of me on the table and buried my face in them, squirming in order to rub the tears from my eyes.
A cold sweat broke on me, and I felt dizzy, nauseous, sick, and numb all at once. I couldn't control the tears springing from my eyes. That kiss was too much to handle… hearing their words was too much. Being there… I shouldn't have been there.
Trying forever to deny that anything I felt was real, and then trying to deny that what Chris had with Stacy was real, and then this, and… oh God, I just… so many things were happening to me at once. My head was throbbing, I couldn't make sense of any of my thoughts, I thought for sure I would pass out if I wasn't sitting down right then. I felt a hand on my shoulder, the chills rushing through me again.
"Honey, oh my God, are you okay?!" Lita quickly pulled the nearest stool up close to me, and sat down, obviously as confused as she was worried.
"Oh my God… Trish, what happened? What's wrong? Talk to me… oh sweetie. God, what… what happened."
I turned my head in my folded arms to face her. All of the makeup I was wearing ran in meandering streams down my face. I shook my head, trying desperately to avoid this nightmare becoming the truth. Reality struck me at once, like it never had before, and I realized just how pathetic I was.
"Li.. I, I….. I can't do this… I…." I could barely talk. Between sniffles and outbursts of breath I tried explaining to her. I couldn't hide this anymore. And I had done such a good job up until then…
"Lita, I… Chris…"
"Honey, calm down… tell me." She began stroking my hair and trying to comfort me, the concern obvious in her expression and her tone. This was too hard for me to even begin to explain, let alone think of how to.
I shook my head violently, slamming one of my fists on the countertop. I didn't even try to speak, I just kept crying. It was all I could do. The feelings in me bunched and knotted up so tightly, I felt ready to burst. I was out of control, both physically and mentally… just trying to tell Lita was another obstacle to me.
"Trish… Trish, say it, tell me. It's okay, it's alright. What's wrong, sweetie?"
I looked up at her, my head still resting on the cold table, my arms loosely wrapped in front of me. I blinked enough so that I could see through my stuck-together eyelashes and running cosmetics, and took a deep breath. "Lita…" I bit my lips together, trying to bite back more tears as I reached within me for enough courage to say what I'd been hiding for two years.
"I can't do this… I… you're right about there being… something, something wrong with me. I lied. I'm not… alright. I'm not fine. God…"
Lita tried coaxing me on, brushing my hair out of my eyes and wiping tears from my cheeks. She looked at me, her eyes full of pain for me.
"Li…" I took a final deep breath and closed my eyes. I couldn't look at her as I said it, and I said it quickly, because I couldn't even stand to hear it after what I had just seen. "I love Chris."