Why Should I Care?

Getting Drunk to Stand Him

Disclaimer: I own no one!

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Trish Stratagias sighed, reluctantly taking a glass of champagne. Why had she agreed to this? An engagement party was the last place she wanted to be.

"Hello," Randy Orton said, stiffly. Trish sighed, sniffling miserably. They had broken up bitterly months earlier. Nothing seemed right to her anymore. Up was down. Down was up.

"Hi," she said, struggling to keep together. Glancing to the left, she wasn't a bit surprised to see his arm around Stacy Keibler's waist.

He had moved on. Judging by the gentle curve of her waist, Trish noted, not long after they had split.

"It was so nice of Amy to get alcohol free cider," Stacy murmured, in the bubbly way that drove Trish mad. Facing her, Stacy grinned. "We're pregnant,"

Like your waist didn't give it off! Trish thought, sipping more Champagne.

"How…How…" She searched for the right word. "How … nice,"

"Trish, how are you?" Randy asked, lightly shoving Stacy in the direction of the food table.

"Ready to kill the Bride to be," she snarled. Amy should have warned her that the bigheaded alien would be there with her ex.

Generally, Trish wasn't a catty woman. She didn't pick fights over who had stolen whose man. Then again, she had been convinced Randy was the one.

"Don't do that," Randy chuckled. "I miss you," Trish bit her lip in an effort to stop from chewing him out.

Yet you're having a baby with a bimbo? Trish thought, downing her third glass of Champagne.

"I think Amy is calling me," Trish muttered, pushing her way through the crowded room. She had to get away from Randy, or else she would strangle him.

"Trish, there you are!' Amy exclaimed softly, setting her hands on Trish's shoulders. "I wanted to tell you Randy brought Stacy."

"Too late," Trish muttered, struggling not to grind her teeth. "The bimbo's pregnant,"

"I told Adam not to invite him. I really didn't want my maid of honor put out," Amy muttered.

Just beyond Amy's shoulder, Trish caught sight of a guy. Medium sized and stocky, he was cute. Who was he?

"Amy?" Trish asked, softly clicking her tongue. The red head glanced up. "Who's that?"

"Who's who?"

Trish pointed, despite knowing it was rude. The guy intrigued her. She had to know who he was; she simply had to know.

"Oh…"

"Well?"

"AJ, a friend of Jay's"

"That's it?" Trish squealed, threatening to fall over. Amy nodded, hesitantly sniffing her friend's breath.

"Trish, how much champagne have you had?" Amy asked, struggling to hold her friend up.

"Three glasses, to get away from the Alien." Trish muttered. Amy groaned. It didn't take very much or very long for Trish to get sloppy drunk. "Could you introduce me?"

"To AJ?" Amy asked, searching the room for Adam. "Um, Sure,"

Trish followed her, keeping a tight grip on the red head's shoulder. The world began to spin. It seemed like there were now two Amys.

"No Champagne for you at the wedding," Amy grumbled, moving toward AJ. "This is insane,"

"Amy, who's behind you?" AJ asked, approaching her. Amy sighed, reminding herself she was doing this for Trish.

"This is Trish." Amy murmured, shoving her best friend forward. Trish grinned, sticking her hand out.

"I'm Trish," she said. AJ smirked, gently shaking her hand. "AJ, right?"

"Yeah," He nodded. "You okay?"

"Slightly drunk," she slurred, taking a step forward. Then, she collapsed in his arms.

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What do you think? Should I continue? Feedback appreciated!

-Jen