Disclaimer: I've managed to lose my cell phone. I can't activate the voicemail, so if there's a message from WWE… well, let's just assume there isn't, okay? I can't take that heartbreak.
August 15th dawned silently in Leigh's hotel room. Similar to that morning in late June, she awoke before the alarm went off and lay in bed for a few moments, gathering her thoughts for the upcoming day. Her room was unlike the others had been up until this point: a king size bed with glorious down comforter; sheets washed in lavender water and so soft they glided across her sensitive skin; a large television sat across the room which she would never get the opportunity to watch. The small desk was the only other piece of furniture that Leigh would use on a regular basis while here: it was her link to the outside world. Her laptop sat opened and activated, alerting her to the thirty-seven different emails that had been delivered overnight. The message light on her cell phone warned that there were voicemails that needed her immediate attention. Files for that evening's card were scattered haphazardly around: Benoit v. Orton; Triple H v. Eugene; Jericho v. Edge v. Batista; Diva Dodgeball. These were the angles that she had had a hand in creating, for bringing them to life. Except for the diva gimmick; that one she had been ordered to work on. Leigh had initially suggested a shoot angle with the resident ladies of RAW: they were already partially pissed that these seven women were getting more tv time, not to mention a quarter million dollars. Marc had the brilliant dodgeball idea and brought it to Vince and Stephanie without first telling Leigh; Vince had jumped at it. Then the newest member of Creative had to make it watchable. Not even Fit Finlay could help her with this.
Leigh had just finished tying the laces on her running shoes when there was a knock at the door. Glancing at the digital clock and realizing it was still too early for housekeeping, she unlocked the deadbolt to see Dave Batista, his eyes squinting at the early morning light. His skin was gray and he reeked of a toxic mixture: alcohol, smoke and sweat.
"Morning, sunshine. I didn't think you'd make it," she grinned. The behemoth merely nodded mutely, still unable to speak.
During the four combined pay-per-views WWE puts on annually, Vince would foot the bill to have both rosters stay in a luxury hotel of the company's choosing. The talent relished this time to re-connect with old friends not seen since the last 'big' show. The parties lasted longer, the liquor flowed more freely and the sex was easier to come by. Nowhere was that more evident than anywhere the members of the Evolution faction were camped. While three of the four men were married, they still very much lived their gimmick while on the road. Paul, Stephanie, Ric, Dave and Randy had lead a large group of the talent to an exclusive club in downtown Toronto where 50 members of both RAW and SmackDown had danced and drank until the wee hours of the morning. Now, at 7:30 on Sunday morning, Dave stood at Leigh's door, supposedly ready for their morning run.
"Was it worth it?" Leigh teased as she grabbed her room key, ready to leave. Dave had begun accompanying her every morning in each new city they toured. Because the young woman was too stubborn to admit her terrible sense of direction, she had eventually recruited Dave, the human compass, to be her partner. It had been suggested to him that he work on his cardio to strengthen his in-ring performance, so it seemed a decent fit. They were similar runners in that neither liked to chat during the course, but Leigh immensely enjoyed the quiet talks they shared afterwards when they would stop for coffee on the way back to their hotel. Dave and his wife had been having marriage difficulties when she was suddenly diagnosed with ovarian cancer. While now in remission, it had convinced the couple to work out their issues, but Dave found he was only able to confide in Leigh. She was happy to listen and they both benefited from their joint counseling sessions. Finally, Leigh never had to worry about getting lost or being molested, and Dave didn't have to worry that a fan would stop and request an autograph or picture.
"Nothing is worth this pain," the monster grumbled as he collapsed facedown on her unmade bed. "It's fucking cold in here, Leigh."
"I sleep better when it's cold," she answered simply.
"Remind me never to sleep with you."
"I don't think that's something we'll need to worry about," Leigh replied. "Listen, if you're not up to this, we can take a raincheck. I won't be able to haul your ass back here by myself if you get sick a mile into it." Dave's only response was a soft snore, so Leigh quietly let herself out and, placing the do-not-disturb placard on the doorknob, made her way down to the elevators.
The lobby was quiet and a solitary figure sat at a table eating breakfast and reading a newspaper. Leigh strolled outside into the crisp air and lightly shivered. I'll never get used to living without humidity, she thought. Having spent the previous evening with a street map rather than a bottle of Jack, she started along her mapped-out course, winding through the streets of downtown Toronto. She relished the empty metropolis early on a weekend morning, knowing that tomorrow it would seem like a different city entirely. She passed street vendors setting up shop for the day and men down on their luck making a few dollars by selling newspapers. The day dawned a bright robin-egg blue and Leigh pondered the events of the past few weeks as she jogged.
She had signed the papers transferring the small house in Easton to her name. She lucked out in finding the place, the owner having just divorced and wanted to be rid of the painful memories at whatever cost. Leigh had spent weeks arranging everything to her own high specifications, greatful that her mother had flown up from Texas to help with the painting, gardening and other minor repairs needed to make the house seem like home. Leigh had asked that only her bedroom suite, a gift from her grandmother, be delivered from Houston; she had sold her previous home along with almost everything in it before moving to Connecticut permanently. She had refurnished the house entirely because everything had been bought when she and Jim were still together. A few family pieces of her late husband's had moved with her but, all in all, everything was new and free from memories.
Her friendships had grown as well. She had quickly become one of the favorites backstage, surprisingly enough as she rarely made it out to any of the local nightlife after parties with the wrestlers or divas. Her popularity stemmed not only from her looks, but her talent as well. It was known that she was well-versed in the business and she was attempting to create new angles that would allow the talent to showcase hidden abilities; fresh rivalries were imminent as Leigh did her best to clean up the existing ones without sacrificing logic.
Leigh had settled into a friendship with all the men in the group comprising Evolution, mainly due to her initial relationship with Paul and Stephanie. Ric looked at her as he would his own daughter; Dave had quickly become a good friend and running buddy; Randy was… an enigma.
After the night spent in Sacramento, they had spent a lot of time together. They did eventually have their lunch, the beginning of which was spent in an awkward silence. Launching in on their mutual dislike of seafood had broken the ice between the two, and now they rarely went half a day without speaking. Leigh enjoyed being around Randy, but she hadn't quite forgotten the effect his nearness had had on her; she still got chills when she thought back to the almost-kiss at her hotel room door. Randy, however, was still young and greatly enjoying his status as resident playboy of WWE. He loved women and the feeling was mutual, as he was seen to have entertained several at time whenever it struck his fancy. He made no excuses or apologies regarding his behavior, however, so if it didn't affect his workrate, it didn't affect anyone else. Leigh couldn't blame Randy or the women, as a few years and a marriage ago, she would have, no doubt, tried to place herself at the center of his harem.
When Leigh was in sight of the hotel, she slowed to a walk. She felt invigorated after the three mile run and knew she would need this boost of energy for her upcoming day. Stopping in the lobby to pick up two coffees, fruit and muffins for herself and Dave, she took the elevator up to the silent 12th floor and walked down the corridor to her room. Checking her watch, she saw she had enough time to shower and change before she was due at the Air Canada Centre. Opening the door as quietly as possible, Leigh realized it hadn't been necessary when she heard Dave's massive snores reverberating throughout the room. He was still in the same position she had left him in: sprawled across her bed and drooling. She set down the make-shift breakfast and kicked his foot.
"Do you have any idea how unsanitary it is to come into direct contact with bedspreads in any hotel?"
Dave rolled over and grunted at her, trying to sit up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, cleared his throat and, accepting the cup of coffee, smirked at her. "Hell, I'm one of the reasons these things are unsanitary."
"You're abhorrent. Now, you need to go so I can get myself cleaned up and over to the arena. I'll see you later, though."
"Eh, you and your big college words; can't you just say 'nasty' like everybody else?" Dave stood up and slurped his coffee; Leigh cringed.
"Please. Hanging out with me is the only education you're ever gonna get. Sooner or later you're going to have to start talking in those promos; wouldn't you like to sound the least bit intelligent?" She slipped off her windbreaker and pulled her shoes off. Standing up again, she walked over to the door and opened it for him.
"Not if I sound like the SAT prep book," Dave laughed and followed her to the open door. "Sorry I bailed this morning; if you'd come with us last night, though, you would totally understand," he said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.
"I'm not a big hangover fan. Now go. I'll see you later."
After pushing Dave out the door, Leigh went into the bathroom to shower and change for the day. She washed and dried her long blonde hair and pulled it up into the ever-present knot all the talent was familiar with, securing it with two silver knitting needles. She put in her contacts and applied her make-up, not knowing why she was bothering. Slipping into the black sleeveless shift dress with the boatneck and heels she planned to wear, she then began gathering her work portfolio together and was out the door in thirty minutes.
Like every live event she attended, the hours leading up to showtime passed quickly for the Creative Team. When everyone had recovered enough from the previous night, they stumbled into the depths of the arena and managed to find their way into the office. Slowly they ambled towards the coffee machine and tried to bring themselves to life. The group received a stern lecture from Vince about the current state of affairs and the behavior that occurred the previous evening, and then they were able to get to work.
This was the first time Leigh had attended a combined Creative meeting: representatives from both RAW and SmackDown were present, much like the talent for SummerSlam itself. She was finally able to meet many of the people responsible for the sad state of the secondary show. She wasn't surprised; the team was led by Stephanie, of course, but the underlings serving that show didn't have the capability to stand up for themselves when presenting an angle, so they ran the same tired ones over and over again. Leigh had discovered early on that an important part of getting your ideas heard backstage was to present them in a way that allowed Stephanie, Vince or Paul to think they had come up with them. Leigh loved the three McMahons dearly, but it was obvious that they didn't understand what the fans wanted nearly as much as they thought they did. She had been lucky, so far, in that many of the angles she had been involved with lately had already been created. All she had done was to spin them in a logical sense and give them psychological background that made the fans care about it. Leigh had nothing to do with the Kane/Matt Hardy/Lita angle; she wouldn't go anywhere near that.
First they discussed Heat, and the matches that would appear there as a precursor to SummerSlam; since Heat is a RAW show, they settled on Rhyno/Tajiri v. La Resistance and Rosie v. Tyson Tomko. The remainder of the hour would be devoted to promos and summaries of the pay-per-view card. The production staff had done an outstanding job, as always, and had put together several packages that summarized the events leading up the main event. Leigh sat back proudly as she watched the snippets of Randy Orton's Path to Destiny: the Battle Royal where he was crowned number one contender; the training matches against Ric Flair and Batista; finally, the tension between student Orton and mentor Triple H. That last one had only been alluded to; Creative would work that in more in upcoming weeks.
They broke for lunch and Leigh checked the voicemails that had come in throughout the morning, not realizing that several from last night were only now appearing. There was one from Randy asking why she wasn't going out with them. One from Stephanie, screeching along to a song playing at the club. Leigh couldn't even begin to fathom what song it was; Steph didn't have the best singing voice. A second message from Randy telling her where he was and would she please meet up with him. One from Marc, asking her if she was avoiding him and what he had done wrong; Leigh rolled her eyes at that one and glanced back at the dark haired man at the table who pretended he hadn't been watching her. His crush was getting old; she couldn't figure out why he was still holding on to it, as Leigh had done nothing to encourage him. They had to work with one another, of course, but she made sure they were never alone together. A final message from Randy came in with a time stamp of 3:42am, presumably the end of the night, when he was alone at his hotel room. "Hey princess, it's me. I just got back in; went by your room but didn't want to wake you. I just… I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. SIGH I miss you. Give me a call when you get a minute." Leigh giggled at this one. Drunken phone calls are the best.
Stephanie walked up to her, trying her best to look perky, upbeat and not at all hungover. When Leigh smirked at her, Steph gave Leigh her best evil glare and slumped her shoulders. "You are officially my hero," she mumbled as Leigh handed her a cup of coffee. The two women walked back towards catering to grab some lunch and Steph could then fill her friend in on the occurrences of the previous evening.
"So, what happened last night?" Leigh smiled as they sat down with their plates. They had chosen a table away from the rest of the crowd but Steph still leaned forward and spoke in a whisper.
Steph groaned. "We started at a place called Joker; I think that's where I called you from. They play that Steve Miller song every hour; anyway, that's where Dave had the great idea to start with shots. I drank stuff that's probably illegal in the States. We didn't stay there too long, though, and wound up going to some place called Area 51. There was lots of dancing; I twisted my ankle when I was dancing on the table. Lots more drinks: Ric and Paul ordered a couple bottles of champagne. I heard Cena had sex in the bathroom. Stacy and Andrew got in a huge fight on the dance floor and got kicked out. Trish wound up slapping one of the diva contestants, so don't be surprised if dodgeball gets brutal tonight. It was so much fun, but good God, am I paying for it now."
"Yeah, I can't do that anymore; I'm so lame," Leigh laughed as she took a swig from the bottle of water on the table. "I used to be able to drink football players under the table, but apparently I've lost my touch. Such is life," she sighed.
"Well you were definitely missed last night. I felt bad for Randy; the guys were all giving him a hard time. One of the diva contestants, Maria, I think, kept trying to hit on him and he was trying to be the nice guy and let her down easy, but she kept coming over to him and rubbing on him and doing a bad imitation of flirting. He was up at the bar getting a drink and the girl went up to him and 'accidentally' started grinding with him from behind. Anyway, that's when Trish saw her and they got in a screaming match and Trish slapped her. Everybody started cheering and Maria actually got kicked out for harassing the bar patrons."
"Wait, Trish was jealous? I thought she has a boyfriend…"
"She does, really nice guy, too. I think she's just fed up with these women, but what can she do? This is what Dad wants…" Stephanie trailed off and shrugged her shoulders as she took the last bite of her sandwich. "So what did you end up doing last night?"
"Nothing much. I had been thinking about what Paul had said a while back about him and Randy at WrestleMania…"
"Wait a minute, you were working?" Stephanie balked.
"Yeah, I've been so tired lately and I knew today would be long, so I figured I'd skip last night. Apparently it was a good thing, too, seeing the state you and Dave are in this morning. I got a message from Randy last night at quarter to four saying he just got in… I can't do that life anymore; not begrudging anyone who does, but it's just not a regular occurrence for me," Leigh answered. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, having finished her lunch, and checked her watch.
"Wow, you really are lame. Will you come out with us tonight, then?"
"You're doing it all again?!"
"Well, yeah, celebrating. C'mon, I know Randy would love to have you around to protect him from Diva Maria," Stephanie smiled as the two women began walking back to the make-shift office for the second half of the day.
A/N: Okay, gang, I'm going to stop there. The next chapter will be part SummerSlam and part aftermath. I think I've got some promising plot lines, but we'll just have to see. Thanks again for all who've reviewed, especially those that have been with me from the beginning. I appreciate your feedback.
August 15th dawned silently in Leigh's hotel room. Similar to that morning in late June, she awoke before the alarm went off and lay in bed for a few moments, gathering her thoughts for the upcoming day. Her room was unlike the others had been up until this point: a king size bed with glorious down comforter; sheets washed in lavender water and so soft they glided across her sensitive skin; a large television sat across the room which she would never get the opportunity to watch. The small desk was the only other piece of furniture that Leigh would use on a regular basis while here: it was her link to the outside world. Her laptop sat opened and activated, alerting her to the thirty-seven different emails that had been delivered overnight. The message light on her cell phone warned that there were voicemails that needed her immediate attention. Files for that evening's card were scattered haphazardly around: Benoit v. Orton; Triple H v. Eugene; Jericho v. Edge v. Batista; Diva Dodgeball. These were the angles that she had had a hand in creating, for bringing them to life. Except for the diva gimmick; that one she had been ordered to work on. Leigh had initially suggested a shoot angle with the resident ladies of RAW: they were already partially pissed that these seven women were getting more tv time, not to mention a quarter million dollars. Marc had the brilliant dodgeball idea and brought it to Vince and Stephanie without first telling Leigh; Vince had jumped at it. Then the newest member of Creative had to make it watchable. Not even Fit Finlay could help her with this.
Leigh had just finished tying the laces on her running shoes when there was a knock at the door. Glancing at the digital clock and realizing it was still too early for housekeeping, she unlocked the deadbolt to see Dave Batista, his eyes squinting at the early morning light. His skin was gray and he reeked of a toxic mixture: alcohol, smoke and sweat.
"Morning, sunshine. I didn't think you'd make it," she grinned. The behemoth merely nodded mutely, still unable to speak.
During the four combined pay-per-views WWE puts on annually, Vince would foot the bill to have both rosters stay in a luxury hotel of the company's choosing. The talent relished this time to re-connect with old friends not seen since the last 'big' show. The parties lasted longer, the liquor flowed more freely and the sex was easier to come by. Nowhere was that more evident than anywhere the members of the Evolution faction were camped. While three of the four men were married, they still very much lived their gimmick while on the road. Paul, Stephanie, Ric, Dave and Randy had lead a large group of the talent to an exclusive club in downtown Toronto where 50 members of both RAW and SmackDown had danced and drank until the wee hours of the morning. Now, at 7:30 on Sunday morning, Dave stood at Leigh's door, supposedly ready for their morning run.
"Was it worth it?" Leigh teased as she grabbed her room key, ready to leave. Dave had begun accompanying her every morning in each new city they toured. Because the young woman was too stubborn to admit her terrible sense of direction, she had eventually recruited Dave, the human compass, to be her partner. It had been suggested to him that he work on his cardio to strengthen his in-ring performance, so it seemed a decent fit. They were similar runners in that neither liked to chat during the course, but Leigh immensely enjoyed the quiet talks they shared afterwards when they would stop for coffee on the way back to their hotel. Dave and his wife had been having marriage difficulties when she was suddenly diagnosed with ovarian cancer. While now in remission, it had convinced the couple to work out their issues, but Dave found he was only able to confide in Leigh. She was happy to listen and they both benefited from their joint counseling sessions. Finally, Leigh never had to worry about getting lost or being molested, and Dave didn't have to worry that a fan would stop and request an autograph or picture.
"Nothing is worth this pain," the monster grumbled as he collapsed facedown on her unmade bed. "It's fucking cold in here, Leigh."
"I sleep better when it's cold," she answered simply.
"Remind me never to sleep with you."
"I don't think that's something we'll need to worry about," Leigh replied. "Listen, if you're not up to this, we can take a raincheck. I won't be able to haul your ass back here by myself if you get sick a mile into it." Dave's only response was a soft snore, so Leigh quietly let herself out and, placing the do-not-disturb placard on the doorknob, made her way down to the elevators.
The lobby was quiet and a solitary figure sat at a table eating breakfast and reading a newspaper. Leigh strolled outside into the crisp air and lightly shivered. I'll never get used to living without humidity, she thought. Having spent the previous evening with a street map rather than a bottle of Jack, she started along her mapped-out course, winding through the streets of downtown Toronto. She relished the empty metropolis early on a weekend morning, knowing that tomorrow it would seem like a different city entirely. She passed street vendors setting up shop for the day and men down on their luck making a few dollars by selling newspapers. The day dawned a bright robin-egg blue and Leigh pondered the events of the past few weeks as she jogged.
She had signed the papers transferring the small house in Easton to her name. She lucked out in finding the place, the owner having just divorced and wanted to be rid of the painful memories at whatever cost. Leigh had spent weeks arranging everything to her own high specifications, greatful that her mother had flown up from Texas to help with the painting, gardening and other minor repairs needed to make the house seem like home. Leigh had asked that only her bedroom suite, a gift from her grandmother, be delivered from Houston; she had sold her previous home along with almost everything in it before moving to Connecticut permanently. She had refurnished the house entirely because everything had been bought when she and Jim were still together. A few family pieces of her late husband's had moved with her but, all in all, everything was new and free from memories.
Her friendships had grown as well. She had quickly become one of the favorites backstage, surprisingly enough as she rarely made it out to any of the local nightlife after parties with the wrestlers or divas. Her popularity stemmed not only from her looks, but her talent as well. It was known that she was well-versed in the business and she was attempting to create new angles that would allow the talent to showcase hidden abilities; fresh rivalries were imminent as Leigh did her best to clean up the existing ones without sacrificing logic.
Leigh had settled into a friendship with all the men in the group comprising Evolution, mainly due to her initial relationship with Paul and Stephanie. Ric looked at her as he would his own daughter; Dave had quickly become a good friend and running buddy; Randy was… an enigma.
After the night spent in Sacramento, they had spent a lot of time together. They did eventually have their lunch, the beginning of which was spent in an awkward silence. Launching in on their mutual dislike of seafood had broken the ice between the two, and now they rarely went half a day without speaking. Leigh enjoyed being around Randy, but she hadn't quite forgotten the effect his nearness had had on her; she still got chills when she thought back to the almost-kiss at her hotel room door. Randy, however, was still young and greatly enjoying his status as resident playboy of WWE. He loved women and the feeling was mutual, as he was seen to have entertained several at time whenever it struck his fancy. He made no excuses or apologies regarding his behavior, however, so if it didn't affect his workrate, it didn't affect anyone else. Leigh couldn't blame Randy or the women, as a few years and a marriage ago, she would have, no doubt, tried to place herself at the center of his harem.
When Leigh was in sight of the hotel, she slowed to a walk. She felt invigorated after the three mile run and knew she would need this boost of energy for her upcoming day. Stopping in the lobby to pick up two coffees, fruit and muffins for herself and Dave, she took the elevator up to the silent 12th floor and walked down the corridor to her room. Checking her watch, she saw she had enough time to shower and change before she was due at the Air Canada Centre. Opening the door as quietly as possible, Leigh realized it hadn't been necessary when she heard Dave's massive snores reverberating throughout the room. He was still in the same position she had left him in: sprawled across her bed and drooling. She set down the make-shift breakfast and kicked his foot.
"Do you have any idea how unsanitary it is to come into direct contact with bedspreads in any hotel?"
Dave rolled over and grunted at her, trying to sit up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, cleared his throat and, accepting the cup of coffee, smirked at her. "Hell, I'm one of the reasons these things are unsanitary."
"You're abhorrent. Now, you need to go so I can get myself cleaned up and over to the arena. I'll see you later, though."
"Eh, you and your big college words; can't you just say 'nasty' like everybody else?" Dave stood up and slurped his coffee; Leigh cringed.
"Please. Hanging out with me is the only education you're ever gonna get. Sooner or later you're going to have to start talking in those promos; wouldn't you like to sound the least bit intelligent?" She slipped off her windbreaker and pulled her shoes off. Standing up again, she walked over to the door and opened it for him.
"Not if I sound like the SAT prep book," Dave laughed and followed her to the open door. "Sorry I bailed this morning; if you'd come with us last night, though, you would totally understand," he said as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.
"I'm not a big hangover fan. Now go. I'll see you later."
After pushing Dave out the door, Leigh went into the bathroom to shower and change for the day. She washed and dried her long blonde hair and pulled it up into the ever-present knot all the talent was familiar with, securing it with two silver knitting needles. She put in her contacts and applied her make-up, not knowing why she was bothering. Slipping into the black sleeveless shift dress with the boatneck and heels she planned to wear, she then began gathering her work portfolio together and was out the door in thirty minutes.
Like every live event she attended, the hours leading up to showtime passed quickly for the Creative Team. When everyone had recovered enough from the previous night, they stumbled into the depths of the arena and managed to find their way into the office. Slowly they ambled towards the coffee machine and tried to bring themselves to life. The group received a stern lecture from Vince about the current state of affairs and the behavior that occurred the previous evening, and then they were able to get to work.
This was the first time Leigh had attended a combined Creative meeting: representatives from both RAW and SmackDown were present, much like the talent for SummerSlam itself. She was finally able to meet many of the people responsible for the sad state of the secondary show. She wasn't surprised; the team was led by Stephanie, of course, but the underlings serving that show didn't have the capability to stand up for themselves when presenting an angle, so they ran the same tired ones over and over again. Leigh had discovered early on that an important part of getting your ideas heard backstage was to present them in a way that allowed Stephanie, Vince or Paul to think they had come up with them. Leigh loved the three McMahons dearly, but it was obvious that they didn't understand what the fans wanted nearly as much as they thought they did. She had been lucky, so far, in that many of the angles she had been involved with lately had already been created. All she had done was to spin them in a logical sense and give them psychological background that made the fans care about it. Leigh had nothing to do with the Kane/Matt Hardy/Lita angle; she wouldn't go anywhere near that.
First they discussed Heat, and the matches that would appear there as a precursor to SummerSlam; since Heat is a RAW show, they settled on Rhyno/Tajiri v. La Resistance and Rosie v. Tyson Tomko. The remainder of the hour would be devoted to promos and summaries of the pay-per-view card. The production staff had done an outstanding job, as always, and had put together several packages that summarized the events leading up the main event. Leigh sat back proudly as she watched the snippets of Randy Orton's Path to Destiny: the Battle Royal where he was crowned number one contender; the training matches against Ric Flair and Batista; finally, the tension between student Orton and mentor Triple H. That last one had only been alluded to; Creative would work that in more in upcoming weeks.
They broke for lunch and Leigh checked the voicemails that had come in throughout the morning, not realizing that several from last night were only now appearing. There was one from Randy asking why she wasn't going out with them. One from Stephanie, screeching along to a song playing at the club. Leigh couldn't even begin to fathom what song it was; Steph didn't have the best singing voice. A second message from Randy telling her where he was and would she please meet up with him. One from Marc, asking her if she was avoiding him and what he had done wrong; Leigh rolled her eyes at that one and glanced back at the dark haired man at the table who pretended he hadn't been watching her. His crush was getting old; she couldn't figure out why he was still holding on to it, as Leigh had done nothing to encourage him. They had to work with one another, of course, but she made sure they were never alone together. A final message from Randy came in with a time stamp of 3:42am, presumably the end of the night, when he was alone at his hotel room. "Hey princess, it's me. I just got back in; went by your room but didn't want to wake you. I just… I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. SIGH I miss you. Give me a call when you get a minute." Leigh giggled at this one. Drunken phone calls are the best.
Stephanie walked up to her, trying her best to look perky, upbeat and not at all hungover. When Leigh smirked at her, Steph gave Leigh her best evil glare and slumped her shoulders. "You are officially my hero," she mumbled as Leigh handed her a cup of coffee. The two women walked back towards catering to grab some lunch and Steph could then fill her friend in on the occurrences of the previous evening.
"So, what happened last night?" Leigh smiled as they sat down with their plates. They had chosen a table away from the rest of the crowd but Steph still leaned forward and spoke in a whisper.
Steph groaned. "We started at a place called Joker; I think that's where I called you from. They play that Steve Miller song every hour; anyway, that's where Dave had the great idea to start with shots. I drank stuff that's probably illegal in the States. We didn't stay there too long, though, and wound up going to some place called Area 51. There was lots of dancing; I twisted my ankle when I was dancing on the table. Lots more drinks: Ric and Paul ordered a couple bottles of champagne. I heard Cena had sex in the bathroom. Stacy and Andrew got in a huge fight on the dance floor and got kicked out. Trish wound up slapping one of the diva contestants, so don't be surprised if dodgeball gets brutal tonight. It was so much fun, but good God, am I paying for it now."
"Yeah, I can't do that anymore; I'm so lame," Leigh laughed as she took a swig from the bottle of water on the table. "I used to be able to drink football players under the table, but apparently I've lost my touch. Such is life," she sighed.
"Well you were definitely missed last night. I felt bad for Randy; the guys were all giving him a hard time. One of the diva contestants, Maria, I think, kept trying to hit on him and he was trying to be the nice guy and let her down easy, but she kept coming over to him and rubbing on him and doing a bad imitation of flirting. He was up at the bar getting a drink and the girl went up to him and 'accidentally' started grinding with him from behind. Anyway, that's when Trish saw her and they got in a screaming match and Trish slapped her. Everybody started cheering and Maria actually got kicked out for harassing the bar patrons."
"Wait, Trish was jealous? I thought she has a boyfriend…"
"She does, really nice guy, too. I think she's just fed up with these women, but what can she do? This is what Dad wants…" Stephanie trailed off and shrugged her shoulders as she took the last bite of her sandwich. "So what did you end up doing last night?"
"Nothing much. I had been thinking about what Paul had said a while back about him and Randy at WrestleMania…"
"Wait a minute, you were working?" Stephanie balked.
"Yeah, I've been so tired lately and I knew today would be long, so I figured I'd skip last night. Apparently it was a good thing, too, seeing the state you and Dave are in this morning. I got a message from Randy last night at quarter to four saying he just got in… I can't do that life anymore; not begrudging anyone who does, but it's just not a regular occurrence for me," Leigh answered. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, having finished her lunch, and checked her watch.
"Wow, you really are lame. Will you come out with us tonight, then?"
"You're doing it all again?!"
"Well, yeah, celebrating. C'mon, I know Randy would love to have you around to protect him from Diva Maria," Stephanie smiled as the two women began walking back to the make-shift office for the second half of the day.
A/N: Okay, gang, I'm going to stop there. The next chapter will be part SummerSlam and part aftermath. I think I've got some promising plot lines, but we'll just have to see. Thanks again for all who've reviewed, especially those that have been with me from the beginning. I appreciate your feedback.