Chapter 3: My First Day In Hell (Stacy's POV)
A/N: Again, I'm just so overwhelmed by your awesome feedback...makes me want to write more! Just keep them reviews coming, and I'll supply you with my painstakingly-slaved-over-just-for-you chapters. More reviews, more (and better LOL) chapters...it's the law of "supply and demand."
Thank you all so much! -Cold-Zephyr
P.S: Melissa, of course you gotta write more, hon. With talent like yours, you always gotta write more. ;)
Getting forced into a stupid romance plot with the man I hate the most really sucks, but my poor best friend Lita is in the shits right now. How would you feel breaking up with your boyfriend of more than three years (I knew that Matt Hardy was a good-for-nothing jerk!), and then being forced to lock lips with the ugliest bastard on the face of the planet (not to mention having him knock the wind right out of you by dropping his 330-pound body on top of yours)? My situation is nothing compared to hers.
"Why don't you complain to the General Manager?"
Lita sighed. "I can't…the ratings are against me. The 'Wedding From Hell' scored a freaking 4.8 rating. This is the first time that I've ever been unhappy about getting high ratings for a segment I'm in."
"Well, that sucks. How are things between you and Matt?" I hated making her uncomfortable by touching on a sensitive topic, but if I find out that he's still being a jerk to my best friend, I'm gonna slap his face off. It went like this: he started turning into a real jerk when this whole storyline with her and Kane started, acting more jealous than was necessary. Before you knew it, their relationship was similar to mine and my ex-boyfriend Andrew's (Test's) in its dying days. Matt and Li were arguing all the time like me and Andrew used to, until finally they just broke up…and it wasn't pretty.
"I'll get over Matt one of these days," she said, shrugging, but the sad look in her eyes told me she wouldn't be over him for a long time to come.
Suddenly, she spotted something on the dresser in the Divas' locker room. It was a scarlet scented envelope, with her name printed in elaborate gold letters on the back. Li remained silent as she picked up the envelope and opened it, not noticing that I was peering over her shoulder.
Lita,
I'm not going to even try writing you a poem, because I'd probably just make a fool out of myself. And besides, no words could explain the way I feel about you…I've loved you from afar for so very long. Maybe one of these days you'll find out who I am…maybe.
"How stupid," I scoffed, "it doesn't even rhyme! That is so corny. Isn't it, Lita? …Lita?"
Funnily enough, that cheesy letter sent my best friend into her own little universe. I had to snap my finger several times to regain her attention. "Don't tell me you actually liked reading that piece of crap?"
She just smiled as she stared at the piece of paper in her hand. Oh, well…if it makes her happy, then I encourage that secret admirer of hers to continue sending those letters. Thank god something's actually gotten her around to smiling again.
"Hey, Stacy!" I turn around to the sound of that familiar voice and see Lilian Garcia standing by the open door. "Better get to your new dressing room before the directors catch you and force you to."
"Oh, crud," I groaned. "I hate having to stay in the same room as Randy."
"It'll be alright, Stace. I'm sure he's a nice guy." Yeah, right. And my name is Sandra Dee.
I decided to just face the music and stay in the same room as the devil incarnate like I was ordered to by the damned Board of Directors, when Lilian calls out to me one last time. "Stacy?"
"Yeah?"
"Randy's good friends with Chris Benoit, right?"
That's an odd question. "I think so…why are you asking?"
"Oh, nothing." I could have sworn I saw her cheeks turn the faintest shade of red as she said that.
The dressing room door that reads "Randy and Stacy" (ugh, I hate the mere sound of it!) towers in front of me like the gates of Hell. "Let the bloodbath begin," I sigh as I twist the doorknob open and enter.
It's a decent dressing room, really. I set my bags down when suddenly arrives the very person who makes this place a living Hell, and he's still seething over my turning him down last week.
He sets his luggage down on the other side of the room, and our eyes meet as he looks up.
"Don't get mad at me, they stuck me with you," we both said at exactly the same time. Apparently the two of us share a feeling of resentment for the higher-ups as well.
"Alright, listen," I tell him in the most no-nonsense tone I could muster, "you stay on your side of the room, and I'll keep to mine. Okay?"
Randy nodded with the scowl still on his face and walked back to his side of our shared dressing room. "No problem, you flat-chested witch with a capital B."
God, not another rude remark about my lack of cup size. I get enough of that from Trish "SLUT! SLUT!" Stratus. "What's that you said, jerk?"
He turned around and glared at me, fire burning in his eyes. He moved closer until there were only inches between us. "I said you're a hag with no rack!"
"You're one to start throwing insults, Mister I-Jobbed-to-Triple-H!" Hah---right where it hurts! Take that, Randy Orton!
"DON'T EVEN START, WOMAN!"
"TRY ME, BASTARD!"
And thus began our verbal boxing match. It snowballed rapidly, and things were about to come to a head (I had my left stiletto shoe in my hand, ready to hurl it at him) when the backstage coordinator for Raw popped his head in the room. "Guys, will you knock it off!"
Randy lowered his fist and I put my shoe back on as he continued. "I'm here to explain to the two of you how your storyline's going to begin tonight. Now sit down---and behave yourselves!
"Stacy, you're booked tonight in a match against Trish Stratus, which will end in a DQ victory for you since you're going to be double teamed by Trish and Tyson Tomko. This is where you," he said, looking at Randy, "come into the picture. Basically you just kick Tyson's ass and scare off the both of them, leaving you and Stacy in the middle of the ring. You two stare at each other for a few moments, and Randy, smile at Stacy before you leave the ring and head back to the locker room."
Oh no...don't tell me I'll be forced to look at his smarmy grin again. This is the pits.
Randy and I exchanged glances one last time as first few lines to my theme song played. Leaving the room to go out to the ring, I looked backwards as he called my name. "Stacy...don't screw up." What an arrogant jerk.
In the middle of the ring stood my opponent and my least favorite person in the world (next to Randy), Trish Stratus. Now, other heel Divas like Gail Kim and Molly Holly were nice backstage, but Trish's in-character personality was no different from the real life Trish. She, like Randy, loved making fun of me having a flat chest, while the devious harlot paraded around in outfits that exposed her Grand Canyon-like cleavage (which, by the way, are only a result of BREAST IMPLANTS). I hope they make her lose balance one day and fall in front of a bus.
"Well if it isn't our resident toothpick-shaped Diva," she teased as she stared up to look me in the eye.
"Trish, you suck so bad that if you stand any closer to me I'll pass out from a lack of oxygen." My retort resulted in a stiff slap across the face from Trish, and the bell rang to signify the start of the match.
No more than five minutes later, the bell rang again, this time to mark a DQ victory for me. Trish's man-bitch Tyson Tomko held my arms behind my back and Trish prepared to hit me in the face with another one of her god-awful slaps, when suddenly a sound of steel against skull was heard and Tyson let me go, having been whacked behind the head by a steel chair. I couldn't help but smile as I watched my arch-nemesis Trish get RKO'd by Randy Orton, even though I'm not particularly fond of the guy who kicked her ass.
Now for the part I'm going to love the least.
I looked up to meet his gaze, and we locked eyes for what seemed like forever. Wow...I never noticed that Randy had such a handsome face. Those chocolate brown eyes are beginning to make my heart melt---oh my god, what am I saying? Ugh! Maybe Trish's slap caused me some major brain damage, because there's definitely something wrong with me actually thinking that.
Randy smiled at me like he was instructed to, and this smile was different from the arrogant grin I'm so used to seeing plastered on his face. This smile was...nice. Sweet. But that doesn't make me hate him any less! Anyway, he turned around and walked away, looking back one last time as he headed up the ramp. I was left standing in the middle of the ring as the crowd chanted "Randy! Randy!" (What is WRONG with these people?), and I stood there a few more seconds before leaving the ring as well.
I was greeted by the backstage technician as I returned to the back, only this time he looked pleased instead of angry like earlier. "Good work, you two! I can smell the ratings now."
For pete's sake, please don't say that. I want this storyline to end as soon as possible.
Walking over to the couch where Randy was, I took a seat (as far away from Randy as possible), and listened attentively to what the backstage coordinator had to say next.
"Alright, now you two are going to be airing a backstage scene after the next two matches are over, so listen carefully. Stacy, you're going to be on your way back to the Divas' locker room when Randy catches up with you. Randy, I want you to ask her if she's alright, or something like that, just make it clear to the fans that you care about this girl. Then Stacy's going to be so touched by how much you care about her that Stacy, you're going to kiss him. Alright, match's ending soon---better be ready to smooch in five!"
Eww! I'd rather lick a dead rat, thank you very much! I opened my mouth to protest when he walked hurriedly away to attend to other Superstars, leaving me alone with the bane of my existence on the couch backstage.
"You're the last man on Earth that I would want to kiss," I said disgustedly.
"Glad to know the feeling's mutual, Miss Keibler. But you know what?"
I raised my eyebrow at him. "What?"
"You may have landed a role in Bubble Boy, which, may I add, was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it role, but Stacy, I bet you can't act for shit!"
Nobody has any right to make fun of my acting skills! Making it big in Hollywood was my plan for the future, and I thought now would be a good chance to show him up. Yeah, I'll show 'em all, Randy especially, that I can be the next Julia Roberts! They'll see, oh yes they will.
"Orton, you're on."
A/N: Apparently a lot of you don't want to see yet another Matt/Lita pairing. I'm still open for suggestions to who Lita's secret admirer is! And I'm glad you all like the Benoit/Lilian pairing, so you'll definitely be seeing more of it in the future! Thanks much!
Cold-Zephyr