Chapter 24 – The You-Know-What Hits the Fan
By Evilution
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people or places mentioned in this story. I don't have any association with WWE, OVW, or any of the casinos in Las Vegas, other than I've gambled in some them before. Enjoy!
Dave Batista exited Paris' room and entered him and Paul Levesque's suite, his mind racing as to how he was going to break the news to his best friend, Randy Orton. He was momentarily distracted by the sound of the shower running and he didn't know which one of his teammates was currently in the room at that time. Swearing, he pulled the door shut, not noticing that it had caught on the carpet and hadn't closed all the way.
Suddenly, Randy Orton burst into the room, looking frantic and out of breath. Dave halted his nervous pacing to face his best friend.
"Dude, thank God you're back. I need to talk to you." Dave cocked his head toward Paul's room as he heard the shower turn off. Now that Randy was standing there before him, he knew that Paul was the one in the shower and he also knew that he didn't have a lot of time before the shit hit the fan.
"Dave, I'm freaking out here!" Randy exclaimed. "I gotta find Paris…do you know where she is?"
"Yeah, she's in her room, but Randy, there's something I…"
Dave never got to finish his sentence because at that moment, Paul sauntered into the room, wearing a pair of sweats, his hair damp from his shower and a cocky look on his face.
"Dave and Randy," he taunted. "Just the two losers I was hoping to run into."
"Why's that?" Randy asked, looking puzzled.
"Because you two fucks each owe me $100."
"Excuse me?" Randy said, glancing between Paul and Dave, trying to figure out what the hell Paul was talking about.
Paul shrugged. "Sorry to break this to you, Randy, but I won the bet."
"What!"
"Yeah, I nailed your little girlfriend not twenty minutes ago…right next door. I gotta tell you, man…you don't know what you're missing."
Dave closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the massive migraine he could feel coming on.
Randy stared at Paul, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. Then, out of nowhere, he started laughing.
"Yeah, right. You had me going there for a second, Paul. All I can say is in your dreams."
Paul chuckled. "No, Randy, in reality."
Randy snorted. "I don't believe you."
"No? Just ask Dave. Being the voyeur that he obviously is, he saw the whole thing."
"I didn't see the whole thing!" Dave shot back as Randy stared at him in disbelief. "Sorry, man…I was trying to tell you."
Randy glanced back and forth between Paul and Dave, his heart feeling as if someone had crushed it. He was so completely heartbroken, shocked, and angry that he couldn't even speak. Dave kept looking at him, worried that he was going to have a complete meltdown, his eyes urging Randy to say something, anything. Randy couldn't even bring himself to hit Paul, which was what he really wanted to do, because he was too stunned to move. Don't lose it, Orton, he told himself. Hold it together or he wins again. Randy closed his eyes, trying to block out the images that kept popping into his head, each of them streaked with red from his anger. How in the fuck could Paris do this to him? He swallowed hard, his heart in his throat. All those weeks of protecting Paris had backfired. He hurt her feelings by pushing her away, rejecting her, and she ran right to Paul. So much for good intentions, he told himself bitterly. At that moment, Randy decided that he wasn't going to be hurt again. Without skipping a beat, he turned it off like a light switch, ice water flowing through his veins. Slowly and deliberately, he removed his wallet and casually threw a $100 bill on the table.
"Congratulations,
Paul…I guess the better man won."
"I don't get it, man," Paul
replied, not quite as triumphant as he should have been.
"What?"
"When I ran into Paris in the hallway, she was pissed. She was out to get laid and that was the end of it. I don't even think it mattered that it was me. It could have been anyone and the result would have been the same. God knows you've had all these opportunities to win this bet…why didn't you take them? Aside from the bullshit about having feelings for her…what gives?"
Randy laughed derisively. "You mean you still don't get it?"
"Get what?"
Randy opened his mouth to verbally rip Paul a new asshole, but he never got the chance. Suddenly, the adjoining door flew open with a bang and Paris stomped into the room, wearing only a large towel from her bath, her violet eyes blazing. She completely ignored Dave and Paul, and walked right up to Randy, glaring at him with tears in her eyes.
"You son of bitch!" she screamed. "You made a bet with him over who could sleep with me first?"
Randy didn't answer. He was ashamed that she had heard the entire conversation, but he was too busy staring at the marks on her neck, reminders of her betrayal with Paul.
"Well?" Paris shouted when he didn't respond.
"Paris, baby…" Paul began.
"Shut up! Answer me, Randy!"
"Yes, I did, but…"
"How could you, Randy? I trusted you! God, I was in love with you!"
"Paris, I love you, too…it's…
"Oh, don't even say it!"
"It's true!" Randy exclaimed. "This whole thing happened on your first night here, when we all had that fight. It was just a joke, OK? Then, I got to know you, but Paul…"
"Don't drag me into this, Orton."
"What do you mean, don't drag you into it?" Randy spat at Paul incredulously. "You're the one who wouldn't drop it even when you found out how I felt about her!"
"Because I never lose," Paul replied nonchalantly.
"So, Paul…tell me, how much did win on this bet?" Paris asked sarcastically.
"Baby…"
"I'm not your baby! How much?"
Paul sighed. "$100 from each of them." He pointed at Randy and Dave.
"Each?" Paris squealed, completely indignant. "Dave, you were in on this, too?"
"At first, yes," Dave tried to explain as he glared daggers at Paul. There was absolutely no reason why Paul had to tell her that he was involved. "But I backed out the first night when I found out Randy liked you and I got to know Amy."
Paris laughed bitterly. "I guess I should be flattered…my going rate was slightly more than a common Las Vegas whore! Thanks, guys."
"Paris, it's not like that," Randy said, touching her arm.
"Don't touch me! I'm leaving for OVW tomorrow and I never want to speak to any of you ever again! You're the biggest group of macho assholes I've ever met! Evolution, my ass! You guys are barely scraping the bottom of the food chain as far as I'm concerned!"
"Don't forget who got you that job, Princess," Paul reminded her.
"How could I, Paul?" Paris shot back. "After all, I've paid you so well for it!"
Randy ran his hands through his hair, suddenly angry. She was being just a bit self-righteous, considering she was the one who fucked Paul.
"Yeah, what about that, Paris?" Randy shouted. "Look, I know this is all my fault! I fucked up, OK? I've done everything in my power to protect you and avoid a scene just like this one! Why the hell do you think I've been pushing you away? Do you think I've enjoyed the last three weeks of cold showers and intimate moments with my right hand? I don't think so! But look what I get for trying to be the good guy, for falling in love. I'm the one being crucified because I wouldn't take your virginity on a bet…a stupid, fucking bet!"
"Virginity?" Paul interjected, stunned. He looked at Paris, who rolled her eyes at him.
"Nothing gets by you, does it, Paul?" Dave mocked.
"I was stupid, Paris!" Randy went on, his anger beyond control at this point. "But how the fuck do you think this makes me feel? I'm freaking crazy about you, but we have one little fight and you go fuck Paul? Was it worth it? Was he everything you hoped your first time would be? Did you think it would help you in OVW that you fucked Triple H? Too bad everyone's gonna know you spread your legs to become a diva!"
Dave and even Paul flinched at Randy's harsh words, but before they could step in, Paris reared back and slapped Randy across the face as hard as she could.
"Fuck you!" she shouted, her hand still stinging, the resonating crack still echoing in the room.
Randy's blue eyes were blazing and there was a red imprint of a hand on his smooth cheek. On his best day, Paris could have given Shawn Michaels a run for his money. Never in his entire 23 years of existence did Randy ever want to hit a woman as badly as he wanted to at that moment. Paris was way out of line, but he held his temper, remembering his father's words that a real man would never hit a lady, even though he didn't think Paris was much of a lady at that point.
Dave sensed his friend's rage and quickly stepped between Randy and Paris, hoping to defuse the situation. He couldn't believe that Randy was being so mean and frankly, Dave thought that his teammate more than deserved a slap for his last comment, but he held his tongue.
"OK, let's just all chill out here, OK?" the Enforcer stated, trying to gently put his hands on Paris' shoulders and move her away from Randy, but Paris pushed him away.
"Fuck you, too!" she shouted. Dave stared at her in disbelief that she was so angry at him.
Turning to leave, Paris stopped in front of Paul. She glared up into his smirking face as she gripped her towel tightly around her. Her eyes were like violet chips of ice.
"And especially, fuck you!" she stated with finality.
Before Paul could respond, Randy interrupted the exchange, casting his ex-girlfriend a sardonic, Legend Killer smirk.
"Excuse me, Paris," Randy mocked, his voice cruel and bitter. "But didn't you already play that game on your back next door?"
"Orton!" Dave shouted, stunned at his friend's rudeness. Even Paul seemed shocked by the young Evolutionary's cutting words, even if they were true.
"Yeah, I guess I did, Randy," Paris replied quietly, tears in her eyes. "Except I wasn't on my back the whole time!"
"Paris, that's enough," Paul warned, as Dave continued to massage his temples, the migraine getting worse with each passing word.
"Oh, please, don't hold back on my account, Paris!" Randy urged sarcastically, stepping towards her as Dave put a gentle but firm hand on his chest. "I'm sure I'll get to hear all about what a great piece of ass you are over the next couple weeks! Me and the rest of the locker room, right, Paul?"
"Orton, come on…" Paul interrupted, his teammate's jealous immaturity becoming tedious.
"Be sure you ask him how good I am at giving head because trust me, he knows that, too!" Paris shouted.
Randy lunged toward her, his fingers itching to wrap around her silly, little neck. With great effort, he was restrained by Dave, who desperately wished he could shoot himself between the eyes rather than endure another minute of this drama.
"As fun as this is, sweetheart, you need to stop! I think you've hurt him enough," Paul whispered, his voice low and dangerous, but Paris only wanted to egg it on.
"Checkmate and game over, you asshole!" she screamed at Randy as Paul wrapped his arm around her waist and carried her into her room closing the door behind him.
"I never want to see you again, you fucking slut!" Randy shouted at the door, trying to break free from Dave.
"Knock it off!" Dave yelled, shoving him. "Don't say shit you're gonna regret!"
"The only thing I regret is fucking meeting her!" Randy exploded.
"You know you don't mean that," Dave told him, at which point Randy's shoulders slumped as he tried to catch his breath and stop his head from spinning, the adrenaline wearing off.
"Dave, I…I don't know what to say…I don't know what to do…I…I…fuck!" Randy stammered as he sank down on the bed, putting his head between his knees, trying to stop himself from throwing up.
Dave went to comfort him, but they were interrupted by Paul, who walked through the adjoining door and slammed it loudly.
"Real smooth, Orton," the Game stated angrily. "I guess you just know all the right things to say to a girl, don't you? I can't imagine she won't be knocking your door down now." He snorted mirthlessly. "Regardless of what she did, she didn't deserve to be treated like that!"
"Oh, look who decided to play knight in shining armor," Randy shouted, rising from the bed. "Like you didn't have this whole thing planned, like this isn't what you wanted from the beginning!"
"You're outta line, Orton," Paul stated simply.
"What are you gonna do, Paul? Kick my ass?" Randy taunted. "Maybe if you kick my ass, Paris will suck your dick again…is that what you're hoping?"
Paul smirked. "If I wanted Paris to suck my dick, all I'd have to do is ask."
"Is that so?" Randy replied, his voice low and icy.
"That's enough," Dave said, stepping between them. His head was pounding and if either one of them looked at him wrong, he was in the frame of mind to flatten them. All he wanted to do was go crawl into bed with Amy and forget that this entire night had ever happened.
"All isn't lost, Orton," Paul went on. "She might take you back if you beg…a lot."
Randy's lips twisted into a sneer as he pushed Dave out of the way and got right in Paul's face. "This is all your fucking fault!" he said quietly, his voice warning. "If you ever say another word about her to me again or if you ever touch her again and I find out about it, I'll kill you! You hear me, Paul…I'll fucking kill you! Do you understand?"
Dave smirked knowingly. He knew that despite everything, Randy still loved her. He knew that the Legend Killer had realized that this whole thing was a grand scheme, orchestrated by Paul, the master manipulator. Paris' only sin was that she was weak and naïve. Not the best qualities to possess when dealing with someone like Paul. What she had done was wrong, but not unforgivable, considering the circumstances. He just hoped that once Randy worked through his hurt and anger that he could see that, too.
"Are you threatening me?" Paul taunted.
"Did I stutter?" Randy reiterated, enunciating each word, making sure The Game understood that he wasn't fucking around.
Paul laughed arrogantly. "What's eating you worse, Orton? That someone got there before you or that it was me?"
Randy was silent, his jaw twitching with impotent fury. "No," he replied flatly. "Just that it was you."
With that, he grabbed his gym back and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Fuck! I'm gonna go talk to him," Dave said, hoping he could catch Randy before his friend did something stupid.
"Not so fast, big man…you still owe me $100."
Dave stared at Paul in disbelief. He couldn't believe how egotistical the man was. "I owe you shit! I backed out, remember?"
"That doesn't mean you still don't have to pay."
Dave shook his head and removing his wallet, threw a $100 bill at Paul. "You know what? You're unbelievable! Don't you even feel a little bit bad about the virginity thing?"
Paul scoffed. "Oh, that? If it hadn't been me, Dave, it would have been someone else."
"Yeah, it would've been Randy! It should've been Randy!"
"Hey, man, that's not my problem."
Dave snorted, suddenly angry. "Couldn't you even tell that she was? Did you even notice or are you that fucking insensitive?"
"What do you want me to say, Dave? Would I have done it differently if I had known? I don't know—maybe. But it's too late to worry about that now. Besides, she didn't act like any virgin I've ever known."
"What's that supposed to mean?" It irked Dave to hear Paul talk about Paris in that way. It was like someone was talking about his sister or something.
"She was hot, that's what it means," Paul stated casually. "She was horny and so was I…we fucked, end of story. God, crucify me for having sex. Are you jealous or something?"
"Do you even care that Paris' first time is ruined? That this is how she's always gonna remember sex?"
"Dave, come on…I didn't hurt her. If anything, I gave her a good rogering. If you ask me, she has nothing to complain about."
"That's not the point! She's always gonna remember that she lost her virginity on a bet to some jackass who doesn't give a shit about her!"
"Hey, that's not true! I got her the diva job, didn't I?"
Dave snorted. "Yeah, you did, Paul. And like she said, she paid you handsomely for it, didn't she?"
Paul exhaled impatiently. "What do you want me to do, cry you a river or something? Do you want me to lie and say that she wasn't a great piece of ass? Is that what you want? What do you want from me?"
Dave shook his head, looking the leader of Evolution up and down. "Nothing," he replied simply.
"That's all you have to say?"
Dave shrugged, laughing bitterly. "What else do you want me to say? I mean, you're just an ass, Paul."
With that, he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Paul waited to make sure Dave was really gone before turning and knocking on the adjoining door.
"Paris? Paris, open the door!" he called.
There was no answer.
"Come on, Paris…I know you're in there. If you're gonna make a career in the WWE, you're gonna have to see me again…it's inevitable."
"What the hell do you want now?" Paris shouted, flinging the door open. She was still angry over him carrying her into her room earlier and dumping her on the bed, ordering her not to move until she had calmed down.
"Look, baby, there's no reason to be like that, OK? We fucked…big deal. I was horny, you were horny and a little drunk…shit happens. Did we or did we not have fun?"
"You are such an arrogant ass!" she exclaimed.
That was twice in five minutes that someone had called him an ass and he wasn't sure he liked it. Nevertheless, he smirked egotistically.
"Yeah, that's true…I am but, come on, Paris…don't deny it. You enjoyed every minute of it, up until the part where you realized that Randy might find out."
"So what if I did enjoy it? That doesn't change what you did…you and Randy and Dave. Paul, you used me and then, collected money over it! Who does that?"
"Paris, I didn't use you any more than you used me," the Game explained smoothly. "Who was trying to drown their sorrows and forget about Randy? Who begged me not to go? Who begged me not to stop? Who didn't give a shit whether Randy found out or not? That was you…every step of the way, Princess."
"Yeah, because I was stupid enough to cheat on him…and with you of all people."
"You didn't cheat on him," Paul remarked slyly. "You guys were broke up, or did you lie to me about that, too?"
"We were broke up and what else did I lie to you about?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"
"You didn't ask, and besides, would it have mattered?"
Paul shrugged nonchalantly. "No, not really. It's pretty cool though…I've never broke in a virgin before."
Paris rolled her eyes in that annoying way that she knew he hated. "Somehow I find that hard to believe, jackass."
"Believe what you want, Paris," he mocked, fingering a wisp of her hair. "Forgive me for not realizing you were virgin. I've never had someone so inexperienced ride me like they were going for the top slot in the rodeo. Your technique is a little rough, but I'm sure with some practice, you'll clean up pretty good. I'll have to ask Adam Copeland to keep me informed."
"Fuck you!" Paris shouted as she slapped him across the face and slammed the door.
Paul rubbed his cheek, chuckling. "Maybe next time, we'll play rough, Paris."
Paris leaned against the door, tears stinging her eyes as she listened to his mocking laughter on the other side of the door. Utterly defeated, she climbed into bed and tried to cry herself to sleep.
Meanwhile, Dave went upstairs to Amy and Lisa's room, hoping that the raven-haired diva was out for the evening and he could talk to his girlfriend in private. He desperately hoped that Amy hadn't spoken to Paris yet and learned about his unfortunate involvement. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door.
"Hey," Amy greeted, opening the door and letting him in.
"Hey, babe," Dave sighed, sinking onto the bed and putting his head in his hands. There was no sign of Lisa, so he figured the coast was clear.
"Jeez, Dave, what's wrong?"
"The proverbial shit just hit the fan," the Enforcer replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Paris and Randy had another fight about the virginity thing."
"Oh, quel surprise," Amy mocked. "I don't get what his problem is. He should be flattered."
"He is, but there's more to it than that. That's why I'm here."
"OK, go on. Obviously, you need to get something off of your chest," she urged as she opened a can of soda.
"Paris fucked Paul tonight," Dave blurted out unexpectedly.
Amy spit soda across the room. "What!" she shouted, wiping soda off of her chin.
"Yep," Dave replied simply.
"She gave her virginity up to Paul?"
"Yep."
"Oh my God! What…wh…I don't even know what to say…I'm speechless."
"Imagine how I felt when I saw them."
"You saw them?"
"Yep. Trust me, she got a good shagging."
Amy was completely shocked. "What the hell…I mean, what the fuck…"
"Randy pushed her away again," Dave explained. "She got mad, she got drunk, and voila, there was Paul."
"How convenient."
"OK, there's more, sit down."
"Oh, goody…" Amy retorted with chagrin as she sat down next to her boyfriend.
"OK, remember the first night Paris was here, when she got in Paul's face and he tried to have her fired?"
"Yeah."
"Randy and Paul made a bet over who could nail her first."
Amy closed her eyes. How could anyone be so juvenile? "You've got to be shitting me?"
"No, sweetheart, I'm not shitting you."
"How could Randy do something like that? I thought he cared about her."
"He realized that about five minutes after he did it. Then, he found out she was a virgin and that's why he kept pushing her away."
Amy sighed. "Why didn't he just tell her the truth?"
"He didn't think that she trusted him enough to forgive him, but anything would have been better than this."
"God, I hope she used protection," the red-headed diva lamented.
"Oh, wait…there's more."
"Oh God…"
"I went to her room after I saw them and Paul had left. Well, Paris was kind of upset because it was pretty much wham, bam, thank you ma'am, so I went back to our room and waited for Randy."
"And…"
"I didn't even get a chance to break the news gently. Paul came strutting out of the bathroom and started in on the bet."
"Did Randy lose it?"
"No, he was too stunned to speak, but wait…there's more."
Amy closed her eyes, not sure she wanted to hear what was next.
"I accidentally left the adjoining door open and Paris heard the whole conversation. She freaked and then, Randy exploded on her."
Amy laughed ruefully. "This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
"Wait…there's more. This is the part I really wanted to talk to you about. Please know that all of this shit happened before you and I were an item, before I decided to even pursue you…it all happened that first night."
"I don't like the sound of this."
Dave breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. "I was part of the bet, too, but I swear to God, Amy…I backed out right after Paris came to our locker room and apologized and I knew Randy liked her. I regretted it right after I agreed to do it. I don't even know why I did it because I've liked you for so long. I guess seeing you with Matt all the time just kind of got to me and I acted stupid. Please know that I never made a move on Paris or pursued her or anything. She's like a little sister to me."
Amy was shocked, but somehow, she knew that Dave Batista was telling her the truth. "Wow," she said simply.
"Please say you believe me."
"I believe you, Dave. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. And I forgive you…I know how it is when you're 'with the boys.'"
Dave wrapped his huge arms around her, capturing her lips in a kiss. "I'm so sorry," he apologized.
"Where's Paris now?" Amy asked with concern.
"Locked up in her room, probably crying or something. Can you believe that Paul actually made me pay him $100? He said that me backing out was like a forfeit so I still had to pay!"
"God, he's an asshole! Where's Randy?"
"I don't know," Dave shrugged. "Probably getting wasted or something. But he did take his work out bag with him, so maybe he went down to the hotel gym."
"You said he exploded at Paris? What was that about?"
"He was just mad," Dave stated. "She was crucifying him over the bet, but then, she turned around and fucked Paul. I mean, they're both at fault. Randy was pretty mean though. He called her a fucking slut."
Amy sighed. "Great, I better go talk to her. Why don't you go find Randy before he does something stupid? As if he and Paris could top tonight!"
"Ames, tell Paris I'm sorry," Dave said as they headed out the door. "I forgot to mention that she hates me, too."
"She knows about your involvement?"
"Oh yeah…Paul just had to let that slip."
"Of course, he did," Amy replied with sarcastic sweetness. "Shit…you go find Randy, I'll go talk to Paris…maybe you should wait until she gets to OVW and let her cool off a little, and then call her."
"That's a good idea. See you in a while?"
"After all this, I'm counting on it," Amy stated as she gave him a kiss and headed off towards Evolution's hotel room.
Dave walked off in the opposite direction, thankful that his girlfriend had understood. He went downstairs to the hotel gym, where he spotted Randy, punching the crap out of a punching bag. As he opened the door, he noticed that the only other person in the room was the gym attendant. He also noticed that Randy was sweating profusely and grunting with each punch. One of his knuckles was bleeding and Dave heard hard, pounding music in the background. As he approached, he could tell that it was Nickelback, one of Randy's favorite groups.
Dave could see Randy's biceps straining as he continued to hit the bag. Having heard enough of the depressing song, Dave approached his friend and gently touched his shoulder. Randy spun around, his fist cocked, ready to fight.
"Whoa…it's just me," Dave said, putting his hands up in concession.
Randy simply sighed and lowered his fist, switching off the music.
"You teach that punching bag a lesson?" Dave joked.
"I wish it was Paul's face," Randy declared through clenched teeth.
"I know, man."
"Did you talk to Paris?"
"No, I went to see Amy. I didn't want her to hear about my involvement from someone else."
"Yeah, wasn't that nice of Paul to slip that in?"
Dave snorted with disgust. "Typical."
"So was Amy mad?"
"No, she just thinks we were both pretty stupid." He laughed awkwardly, as did Randy.
"God, Dave, how could she do this to me?" Randy exploded, suddenly angry. "I love her so much! I was only trying to protect her and she goes and fucks Paul!"
The gym attendant glanced up warily at the raised voices and the profanity.
"Lower your voice, man," Dave urged, glancing apologetically at the attendant.
"Like I give a shit if anyone hears me," Randy shouted. "I'm pissed, OK?"
"I understand that you're pissed," Dave replied, his voice low. "But you don't really need this getting out. You want everyone to think that your girlfriend fucked Triple H so she could become a diva? I don't think so!"
"Yeah, well, maybe that is why she fucked him!"
"I know you don't mean that…any more than you meant those nasty things you said to her in the room."
Randy hung his head, somewhat ashamed. "I just wanted her to hurt as much as I am."
Dave put his hand on Randy's shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "I'm sorry to say this, bro, but I don't think she needs any help from you in that department. Come on…let's get out of here."
"Dave, wait…" Randy interjected, ripping the tape off of his wrists. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"You said you saw them, right? Paris and Paul?"
"I don't think I like where this conversation is heading," Dave stated.
"What were they doing?" Randy asked hesitantly.
"What do you mean…what were they doing?"
"When you saw them…be honest."
Dave shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. "Come on, Randy, what do want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me what you saw," Randy went on, impatiently. "Trust me, I can handle the gory details."
Dave was upset. "Randy, I don't want to do this," he replied, walking away.
"Are you my friend or not?" Randy demanded, following him.
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" Dave shot back, spinning around. "Of course, I'm your friend."
"Then, tell me what you saw, goddamn it!"
"They were fucking, OK?" Dave shouted, angry and not caring who heard him. "She was bent over and he was doing her from behind! Are you happy now? Was that graphic enough for you or do you want full play by play on it? I could call King and JR if you need color commentary!"
"Fuck you!"
"Fuck me? You asked for it, pal!"
"I didn't ask you to be a smartass about it!"
"Yeah, well, was it really necessary for you to have a visual description?"
"Look, Dave, I gotta know one thing…"
"If it has to do with Paris and Paul having sex, I don't want to talk about it."
"Just tell me, did it look like she was enjoying it?"
"Oh, come on, Randy!"
"I mean it! It didn't look like he hurt her, did it?"
Dave sighed. "No, but if you'd seen her afterwards, you would have thought differently."
Randy's jaw twitched, a look of anguish fleeting across his face. "What am I gonna do, man?"
Dave shook his head. "Honestly, I think the best thing you can do is just give her some time. Let her go to OVW and cool off for a couple weeks…maybe then you can call her." He shrugged, not quite knowing if he said the right thing.
"God, this sucks," Randy breathed, his voice laced with emotion. "I freaking hate her for what she did, but the thought of losing her makes me want to…and especially to him. It just makes me mad. All of my fucking good intentions were for nothing."
Dave put a brotherly arm around Randy. "I know, man…let's go."
The two men exited the gym, failing to notice a silent figure that crept out of the shadows and approached the gym attendant's counter. Sarah watched Randy Orton and Dave Batista walk away, smirking nastily, as she leaned against the counter and smiled at the attendant, who was wearing a name tag that said 'Brian.'
"Excuse me…umm…Brian?" She leaned over the counter, giving him a generous eyeful of cleavage.
"Yes, ma'am, how can I help you?"
"I hate to be nosy," she began in a sweet and sugary voice. "But I hate to see a friend in trouble even more. You know those two guys that just left?"
"You mean Randy Orton and Batista?"
"Oh, you're a wrestling fan?" Sarah prompted, smiling.
Brian laughed. "Only since I was about ten."
"Well, I happen to work for the WWE…"
"Really? What do you do?"
"Oh, backstage production…executive stuff…it's all really technical, but that's beside the point. I'm actually very good friends with Randy and Dave and I couldn't help but notice that Randy seemed really upset about something. I hate to just go ask him because he's so closed off from the rest of us…you know, he doesn't like to share his feelings, but I'd really like to help. You didn't happen to hear anything, did you?" She shifted, giving him an even bigger eyeful.
"I'd like to help you," Brian replied regretfully. "But we have to respect our guests' privacy."
"Of course, you do," Sarah said smiling. "Thank you so much for all the extra towels." She discreetly slipped him a twenty dollar bill.
"Err…I didn't get your name," Brian remarked, pocketing the twenty.
Sarah smiled winningly. "It's Amanda. Amanda Jones."
"Um…Amanda, that's a pretty name. Are you really good friends with Randy Orton?"
"I grew up in St. Louis with him."
"Well, then, I guess it couldn't hurt to tell you…being that you only want to help."
"Oh, you're so sweet," Sarah commented. "Don't worry…I'll keep it on the QT."
"Well, he was all pissed off and pounding on that punching bag and then, Batista came in. I guess Randy's girlfriend cheated on him with some other dude."
Sarah's eyes grew wide with shock. "Oh my God, you're kidding! It's just not possible!"
"Well, if her name's Paris, then that's who they were talking about."
"God and she's a good friend of mine, too," Sarah went on with fake concern. "I never saw this coming. And Randy's just the sweetest boyfriend…I can't imagine who she'd cheat on him with."
Brian shrugged. "Some dude named Paul."
Sarah's eyes got even wider and her mouth formed a tiny O. Apparently, Brian didn't realize that Paul was Triple H's real name. Sarah smirked inwardly. She always suspected that Paris was a slut and now, the cat was out of the bag about how she became a diva.
"Wow, that's just tragic," she said, noticing that Brian was staring at her skeptically. "Gosh, Randy and Paris are like…the Ken and Barbie of WWE. I hope this Paul guy was worth it."
"From what I heard, he better hope he doesn't run into Orton any time soon," Brian remarked.
Sarah smirked once again. The idea of Randy kicking Triple H's ass was positively laughable. In her opinion, Randy was nothing more than a step above a rookie, still wet behind the ears.
"Well, I better be going. If I know Paris, she's gonna need all the friends she can get. Thanks for the info…keep it between us, OK?"
"Not a problem," Brian said, nodding. "Oh, Amanda…"
"Yeah?" Sarah replied, almost forgetting to answer.
"Maybe next time you're in town, we could go out or something?"
Sarah smiled a very fake smile. "That would be cool…let me give you my cell number." He handed her one of the gym's business cards and she quickly scrawled a number on it. Not hers, of course. Like she'd ever go out with this loser. She grinned evilly as she watched him memorize the OVW bitch, Tammy Petersen's number. Let that slut deal with it when he called.
"Hey, thanks. See ya around."
"Yeah, bye, Brad."
"It's Bri…" he began, but she was already gone, quickly off to start spreading the juicy gossip that she had just heard.
Meanwhile, Dave and Randy went back to their room. Paul was gone, probably to a club or something, and Amy was sitting on Dave's bed, watching TV. Randy threw his bag across the room and looked apologetically at Amy as if he expected her to rip him a new one.
"I'm gonna shower. You talk to Paris?"
"Yeah."
"How is she?"
"She's OK," Amy assured him. "I convinced her to get some sleep."
Randy nodded and disappeared, sulking into the bathroom.
Dave waited for the door to shut before joining the extreme diva on the bed. "So what did she say?" he asked.
"Nothing much. She just told me the whole story…it pretty much matched what you told me. She's really pissed at you guys, but I think she's more pissed at herself.
Dave nodded. "I'll probably call her tomorrow and apologize…you know, when she gets to Louisville."
"So you coming to my room?" Amy questioned.
"I probably better stay here. I don't think it's such a smart idea to leave Randy and Paul alone if you know what I mean."
Amy agreed. "Yeah, I suppose."
"Why don't you stay here?"
"Yeah, I could do that," the redhead stated, shrugging. "I'll go get my stuff…I'm sure Lisa won't mind."
She left and Dave began to relax, feeling that the nightmare was close to being over and hoping that Randy was asleep before Paul returned.
Next door, Paris was about to finally fall asleep when her cell phone rang insistently. Swearing, she climbed out of bed and grabbed the offending object. Her caller ID said 'Matt Hardy.' Great, what the hell did he want?"
"Hello?"
"Paris, its Amanda…my phone died so I'm using Matt's."
"Oh, hey…what's up?" Paris asked, trying to sound cheerful.
"Look, I know it's late, but I need to talk to you. Can I come over?"
Paris glanced at the clock, agonizing over how exhausted she was. "Sure, I'm in room…"
"I know the number…bye."
The phone clicked and Paris thought that it was very strange that Amanda hung up so abruptly. A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door. It was Amanda, standing there in her pajamas with her new red hair.
"Come on in," Paris greeted, opening the door.
"Thanks."
"So what's going on?" Paris asked, motioning for Amanda to sit down and then, joining her on the edge of the bed.
"Look, I just wanted to say that regardless of what's happened between us, I'm really happy for you and I'm really proud of you and I know you're gonna be the best diva…" She stopped, hesitating slightly.
"You really mean that?"
"Come on, Paris, you're my best friend," Amanda replied, obviously embarrassed by the emotion. "Of course, I mean it. And I suppose I should thank you, too, since I got your job and all."
Paris laughed. "Yeah, well, you need to get away from those ring people. They're kinda weird."
Amanda grinned. "You mean away from Sarah, right?"
"You said it…not me."
"Yeah, well, just when I think that's gonna happen, Derrick goes and quits, and she gets promoted to travel coordinator, too."
Paris snorted. "I wonder who she slept with to get that job."
"Funny you should mention that," Amanda went on, her tone a little strange. "That's why I came to see you."
"OK, go on…"
"Look, Paris, we've been best friends for years, right?"
"Right."
"And I think I know you pretty well, which is why this is so confusing and so bizarre…"
"Amanda, get to the point already!"
Amanda took a deep breath. "I hate to beat around the bush, so here goes, OK? Sarah is telling everyone that she heard Randy and Dave talking in the gym and that Randy broke up with you because you…fucked Triple H to become a diva! There…I said it!"
Paris was stunned that the secret was out so soon. "What!"
"Which part did you not understand?"
"I…I understood it…I just…didn't think people would be talking already. I mean…I hoped I was far away in OVW before…"
"You mean it's true?" Amanda exclaimed shocked.
"Well, partly, yes.
"So which part is true?"
Paris sighed. "I did have sex with Paul, but it wasn't to become a diva. Vince gave me the diva job last week. And no, Randy didn't break up with me…I broke up with him because he wouldn't have sex with me."
"I'm confused."
"OK, pay attention—Randy's been putting me off when it came to sex and I didn't know why. Well, we got into a big fight and I broke up with him. Then, I hooked up with Trip…with Paul."
"And?"
"And…I was in my room changing and I overheard the boys talking next door. Turns out Randy, Paul, and Dave had a bet over who could sleep with me first."
"What!"
"Yeah, apparently, they made it that first night when they all hated me, but Dave supposedly backed out so he could get with Amy and then, Randy started to like me and found out I was a virgin, so he was trying to 'protect' me."
"That's the most juvenile thing I've ever heard…I mean are we still in high school?"
"So anyway, Paul won the bet, passed go, collected $200…you get the picture. I overheard this bullshit and I had a complete meltdown. Then, Randy went off on me and said some really mean things, so we're pretty much over."
"God, Paris, I'm sorry. I mean…I thought Randy really loved you."
Paris sniffled, the tears starting once again. "I thought so, too. Maybe he still does, but…"
"But what, honey?"
"How could he ever find it in his heart to forgive me?"
"Forgive you? What about what he did?"
"I know, I know…it was stupid and immature, but I honestly believe that he was trying to protect me, that he didn't want to take my virginity on a bet. Why else would he not have sex with me? It all makes sense now."
"If you really believe that, why don't you talk to him?" Amanda urged.
"I just can't face him. I can't look him in the eye. We had one little fight and I ran and had sex with…with the devil himself."
"I'm sure Randy knows who's more responsible for that and it's not you!"
"But it is me, Amanda! I allowed it to happen and I…I…"
"You what?"
"I liked it!" Paris replied, ashamed.
Amanda laughed. "Well, of course, you liked it! He's Triple H, for Chris's sake! Even a little virgin like you has to know that you probably got fucked good and hard by one of the best. I could think of worse first times than with Triple H."
"God, I'm so embarrassed!"
Amanda continued to laugh. "I'm so glad I talked to you. This is a whole new perspective now."
"Stop laughing!" Paris cried.
"I'm sorry, it's just that…"
"What?"
"Look, you and Randy, the major stud, had a little misunderstanding because he was stupid and misguidedly trying to save his own skin and come out the hero. You broke up with him, you had hot, sweaty sex with Triple H, and then, you found out the truth. You and Randy both screwed up. I say it all evens out."
"Amanda, two wrongs don't make a right."
"I still think it's worth talking to him. You still love him…Randy, I mean."
"Is it that obvious?"
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Der! Come here, you little ho." She wrapped her arms around Paris in a huge hug and started to cry a little bit. "God, I'm gonna miss you. Just when we make up…now you're leaving."
"I'll be back," Paris said, crying also. "Besides, you have Matt Hardy to keep you occupied."
"And you're going to be playing house with his little brother…hmm, interesting." Amanda arched her eyebrows suggestively.
"Stop it! Jeff and I are gonna be partners…nothing more."
"It's probably for the best…Matt says he's gay anyways."
"Yeah, well, I'll believe Jeff's gay when I see it," Paris remarked, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, when he's banging you…that'll prove Matt wrong."
Paris laughed. "Would you stop?"
Amanda chuckled. "Hey, Paris, for what it's worth, Matt wanted me to tell you that he's sorry for what happened between you and him and Rob. He said you didn't deserve to be treated like that…he was just bitter about Amy and Dave and took it out on you. He's really a nice guy."
Paris smiled. "Well, if he likes you, he can't be all bad. Maybe he and I'll be friends some day."
"I'd like that. Speaking of Mr. Hardy…I better get back. I'll meet you in the lobby tomorrow…I want one last goodbye."
Amanda hugged her again and quickly left, brushing away tears…a mixture of happiness, sadness, and pride.
After Amanda left, Paris decided to take a walk because she was all wound up and couldn't sleep. She stopped at several rooms to say goodbye to Trish, Chris, Jay, Shawn, Jackie, and Amy. Amy was the only one who wasn't in her room, so Paris figured she must be next door in Evolution's room. Paris picked up her cell phone and called the red-headed diva. Within seconds, Amy knocked on the adjoining door and Paris let her in, glimpsing Randy asleep and Dave watching TV.
"I thought I told you to go to bed," Amy scolded.
"Couldn't sleep. Amanda came by."
"What did she want?" Amy inquired, her tone a bit snarky. Paris assumed that she was somewhat bitter over Amanda dating Matt and the new red hair.
"We kind of made up. She wanted to wish me luck and say goodbye and…
"And?" Amy prompted when Paris hesitated.
"And what?"
"You hesitated. Sounds like there was more to Amanda's visit than just goodbye."
"There was."
"Pray tell…"
Paris sighed. "Apparently, Sarah was in the gym and overheard Randy and Dave discussing tonight's drama. So now, tales of how I became a diva are well on their way to being blown out of proportion."
Amy rubbed her forehead. "God…of all people to be lurking around eavesdropping. Although, I have to admit, it probably would have been juicy gossip no matter who heard it."
"I'm just glad I'll be long gone when it hits the fan."
"Don't be so sure," Amy warned. "I hate to tell you this but Sarah probably still has ties to OVW."
"Thanks for the good news…"
"Don't sweat it…Tammy'll have your back, especially if it's against Sarah."
"I feel like a whore," Paris declared.
Amy sighed. "Look, Paris, sleeping with Paul isn't the worst thing in the world. It's not the smartest thing you've ever done, but definitely not the worst."
"I'll never be able to look at Randy again."
"Don't be silly…you just need time."
Paris snorted mirthlessly. "Time? All the time in the world could go by and I'd still be used merchandise. I'll always be the girl who fucked Triple H! Randy deserves better. Even if he did make that stupid bet, what I did was worse."
"Paris, Randy loves you. Someday you'll both see that. Just have faith, OK?"
Paris hugged her, smoothing her long, red hair. "I love you, Amy. You're the best friend I could ever have."
"I thought that was Amanda," Amy replied, sniffling.
Paris smiled, realizing that Amy wasn't jealous of Amanda and Matt, she was jealous of her and Amanda. "Amy, Amanda will always be my friend, but we're both moving on. She knows that as well as I do. I have a new best friend and her name is Amy Dumas."
"I'm gonna miss you, Paris," the extreme diva stated as she hugged Paris, trying to hide her tears.
"I'll be back," Paris promised. "And you'll visit me, right?"
"It's a date," Amy said, hooking pinkies with Paris. "Promise me one thing, K?"
"Anything."
"Dave's gonna call you…give him the benefit of the doubt, OK? I believe him…I know he wouldn't lie. He's not like Paul."
"For you, I've probably already forgiven him."
"I want you to get some sleep…you have a big day tomorrow."
"Yes, Mom."
"I'll be up to say goodbye in the morning," Amy told her as she tucked Paris under the covers in a maternal fashion.
Paris sniffled, wiping away a tear. "Don't. Let's just leave it like this. I don't want to see Randy."
"OK."
"Oh, Amy, would you give this to Paul for me?" She handed the redhead an envelope that contained the diamond anklet. "I couldn't keep it now…it makes me feel like an even bigger whore."
"What the hell is this?"
"He gave it to me this afternoon…I'd rather die than keep it now."
Amy put the anklet back in the envelope and stuck it in Paris' purse. "Keep it…you can pawn it if you need money."
"But…"
"It's the least the son of bitch owes you!"
Paris nodded and bid Amy goodnight as she watched the diva retreat through the adjoining door. She vowed one day that she would give the anklet back to Paul and tell him to his face exactly what she thought of him. His manipulation and her weakness had destroyed Randy and everything they had or could ever hope of having. There was no turning back. Despite what Amy had said, Paris knew that she could never give herself to Randy with a clear conscience. She had broken his heart and even if he had forgiven her, it would be a long time before she could ever forgive herself. She seriously thought about calling Danny and asking if she could come home, but she had already signed a contract and if she ran away, then that would just give Paul one more victory. She wasn't a quitter, but she had to be strong for what lay ahead of her. It wouldn't be easy, especially without Randy, but maybe someday, it would all work out.
Someday…that was her dream.
Only one more chapter to go and then, it's sequel time. Hope you enjoyed it—sorry this one was so long. Please review. Many hugs…
---Evilution
