Happy Valentine's Day! Although I don't think you're gonna find any love here. Lol, besides there's a much more important holiday coming up in just 6 more days... my birthday! Yes, yes, despite my mother's blatant denial, her little girl is growing up. Only one more year till I can 'legally' get a tattoo! Very excited about that, but I don't think it shows in this chap. Lot's of changes that will have an impact on the rest of the story, although I just noticed now it's a little shorter than the others. Nevertheless, enjoy : )
"Do you want chocolate or vanilla, sweetheart?"
Stacy grinned as her mother leaned in as if sharing a top secret. "How about I give you both? No one else has to know."
Her eyes rolled as she scooped two large amounts of both flavors of ice cream on her plate without waiting for an answer.
"Mom, just because no one else finds out doesn't mean my body isn't gonna get the message."
"Oh Stacy," her mother chided. "You don't need to be on any ridiculous diet. Did that Luke boy tell you that you were fat?"
"No," she answered smoothly. "Luke thinks I look great, but I just want to tighten up for cheerleading tryouts." A slight throbbing started in the back of her head like a consistent drumming, but she ignored it as her father walked into the kitchen.
Wait, her father? Her parents had been divorced for a while now, what was he doing here?
"You know I'm not entirely ecstatic about you starving yourself."
Stacy let out a strained laugh. "You know I'm not daddy." Everything about the setting told her something was off, but the only thing she felt was peace. For once, she didn't feel the pressure of the business.
"Stacy," her father said in a warning tone. "If you lose another pound, I assure you the wind will blow you around like a paper bag. I can't have that happening to my prettiest girl, can I?"
Stacy giggled as she pointed to the heaping bowl of ice cream before her. "How can I lose any weight when I have mom pumping all these calories into me?"
"Stace, are ya ready to go?"
A familiar voice sounded through the house as the front door slammed shut. Stacy's eyes widened as Sarah walked in, as if nothing had changed. As if she hadn't seen Stacy in more then ten years.
As if she hadn't died.
"Sarah?" Stacy managed to choke out. Sarah only gave her a bewildered look as she gave a quick kiss to Stacy's mother and a bright smile to her father. Both parents beamed at the young woman. Sarah had always known how to manipulate parents into thinking she was a perfect angel, when she was no such thing.
She had been the one who had introduced Stacy to the club scene before they were even legal. She had been the one who had first told Stacy of exactly how to position herself for the maximum amount of pleasure out of her orgasm.
She had been the one who had drunk too much one night, and paid dearly for it.
"What are you looking at me like I'm dead for?" asked Sarah. She grinned at Stacy, not seeming to be bothered by the incredulous look on the leggy blondes face.
"I've missed you so much," Stacy finally managed to say.
Sarah's eyes rolled. "Yea, I missed you too Stace, twenty-four hours is way too long to be apart from you.
"Are you ready to go? I told Jesse I would meet him there in ten minutes and we're already late."
Stacy seemed to snap out of whatever haze she was in and smiled brightly. Her doubts and shock were gone. There was only happiness as she stood up. Pure and complete happiness.
"Love you guys," she called to her parents. But the pounding in her head was getting worse. Her knees buckled under her suddenly as she felt the whole world spinning out of control.
She hissed in a breath through clenched teeth as she forced her eyes open.
Her own reflection stared back at her, eyes hollow and dull. A sudden sense of deep loneliness washed over her, as she realized she was alone. Her attention was caught by a paper on the floor. She bent to retrieve it, knowing what it was almost immediately.
Teen Girl Killed in Accident
Sarah.
Stacy's eyes burned with tears as she flung the newspaper clipping away from her. She had memorized the whole short article. They treated it so lightly, she had been disgusted. Sarah's last picture was right next to an advertisement for vacuums.
Her gaze was arrested again at something else on the ground. Her fingers trembled as she picked up a photograph.
Her parents wedding picture. Her mom had looked so young. As Stacy stared, a fine line appeared in the middle of her parents. Suddenly, the picture was ripped in two.
Stacy let out a wrenching sob as she stumbled away. She was alone. She had been alone ever since Sarah had died. Her parents divorce had only cemented her belief that no one cared for her anymore.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she raised her hands to her eyes, pressing hard to stop the flow of tears. No one could make this go away.
She had been alone throughout her relationship with Test and with Scott. And even with all her friends in the company; she was alone. No one understood how it felt to have to keep a perfect image while her life was falling apart, along with her belief in happiness.
What was happiness anyway?
(X X X)
Christy fingers clenched the rim tightly as she felt another strong wave of nausea pass throughout her entire body.
She lurched forward as more of the contents of her stomach spilled out into the toilet. What the hell was happening to her?
She had woken up to find herself sprawled on the living room couch alone, with a terrible headache. Her stomach had felt like a mini amusement park, and she had barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up.
"Shit," she sighed as she rested her forehead against her cold hand. Her whole body shivered uncontrollably.
Her knees started to ache from kneeling on the tile floor. She barely had time to move when another wave of nausea hit her like a freight train. Her whole body shook with convulsions as she tried desperately to keep her hair out of her face.
Where was John? Her eyes closed as she struggled to recall the events of the day before. The last thing she remembered was going in to the kitchen for some food.
She attempted to revert her breathing to that not of an erratic rabbit before trying to get up. She had to attend a taping tomorrow, but she felt like she had just been run over by a semi. Her legs wobbled as she stood to take a swig of water in her mouth to rinse out the bitter taste.
(X X X)
"Wait, what happened to her?"
Trish Stratus closed her eyes, letting out a tired sigh. She pushed her hair behind her ear and looked up at the doctor, who was glancing at a chart in front of him.
"Miss Keibler was admitted yesterday." He shook his head, pursing his lips as if he went through this everyday. This only made Trish more frustrated. Did he think she hung out in hospitals just for fun?
"Do you have any idea if she's ever suffered from eating disorders?"
Trish shook her head numbly. If anything, Stacy ate more then her. "Why?"
"We checked her blood pressure, and sugar levels, and it seems she hasn't been eating very well these last couple of days." He shook his head as he quickly scanned Trish. "Do you work together with her?"
"Yes, we're…" Trish bite her lip. What were she and Stacy? Could they even be considered friends anymore? "What's wrong with her?" she repeated.
"Her blood pressure is relatively high. This might be caused by stress, and the fact that she hasn't been eating well. We can let her go tomorrow, but she needs to start taking care of herself." He paused as if thinking about his next words. "I realize you girls may feel the need to be perfect, but starving yourself isn't the way to do it. In fact, men prefer women with a little meat on their body."
Trish's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" Realization struck her suddenly. "Do you think we're strippers or something?"
The doctor only shook his head and shrugged. "I didn't mean to insult you in anyway, but when she first came here, we thought she had overdosed."
"You can take your assumptions and shove them up your ass," snapped Trish. Her eyes narrowed. "Just take care of her and stop making judgments." Her throat tightened as he turned and walked away calmly.
She had never liked doctors. As much as her mother had tried to convince her they were nice people, she had always had the feeling that they felt like they were above everyone else. She didn't trust that the power they had over someone's life didn't get to their heads.
"What'd he say?"
Trish turned around to face Lita. The redhead held a steaming cup of what Trish guessed was coffee. She took it and gulped down the bitter liquid, not caring that it was burning the back of her throat. She made a face as she finished it.
"Ever hear of sugar?"
Lita rolled her eyes, gesturing in the direction the doctor had gone in. "What happened?"
Trish looked down, as if ashamed. "He said she hasn't been eating well, and she's under a lot of stress."
Lita sat down heavily. "I've been wanting to ask her why she's been so down lately." She raised her head and locked eyes with Trish. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"
Trish paused as she averted her gaze. Should she tell her? Hadn't she promised herself it was better to keep this all a secret? Her fingers tapped along the edge of the hard chair. She stood suddenly.
"She slept with him."
Trish's mouth snapped shut as soon as the words escaped from her mouth. Lita's brows went up in confusion. "Slept with who?"
Trish sighed. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest. Finally, she took a moment to close her eyes and think.
"Stacy slept with Randy. She told me she didn't want to, but we all know what a charmer that jackass is. So he blackmailed her and told her that if she didn't continue fucking him, he was going to tell everyone. She didn't want anyone to know so she did it, but I caught her one time and I got real pissed. I mean, what the hell? She knew how I felt about him. That's when all the stress started probably. And she hasn't been eating well because I told her that I would think about what to do with our friendship, but I guess I took too long and now she's here"
Taking a deep breath, she tried to read Amy's reaction. To her astonishment, the redhead had a faint smile on her lips.
"That fucker," Trish heard her whisper.
"What?"
Lita started as if she just realized Trish was next to her. "You realize that fucker has screwed us all over at least once?"
Trish nodded, surprised that Lita wasn't yelling up a storm. She had never been known for her calm temper, and was often notorious for cursing up and down the halls if there was something not to her liking.
"Does he have a heart?"
Trish gave a bitter laugh. "Are you serious? If that man has a heart, its all for himself."
Lita nodded. "Do you think it feels good to do what he does?"
"Screwing around with no strings attached? Isn't that every man's dream?"
Lita shook her head. "No, I mean do you think it gives him pleasure to tell a girl that she was just a one night stand? To see the look of hurt and shame that passes through their eyes? To know that you just made a woman feel like a piece of garbage." Lita's hands balled into fists. "It must be intoxicating to have so much power."
Trish sat quietly. "I feel sorry for him."
Lita's eyes widened. "Why the hell would you feel sorry for that son of a bitch?"
Trish looked away, her arms wrapped around herself. Why was it so cold?
"Because, it feels good to fuck some random girl, but what's he gonna do when he gets older? That man isn't capable of loving anyone but himself. He'll be so alone."
"He deserves every piece of shit that's going to be tossed his way," Lita surmised. "Nothing can replace the feeling of comfort and security you have when you have someone you really adore next to you. You feel like you can take on the world."
Trish chuckled. "I hate it."
"Hate what?"
"That feeling of depending on someone. When your with that person, everything is good. Then he breaks your heart and leaves his mark just like the dog he is." Her lips twisted into a frown. "And you look back and all the shit you went through just shows you how weak you really are. All the sweet crap you said makes you want to throw up." She turned to look at Lita who was nodding. "I think I'm gonna be a lesbian from now on."
Lita rolled her eyes. "Join the club."
"How is she?"
Trish's eyes flickered up towards the deep voice.
Dave Batista looked huge compared to the small hospital staff that seemed to scurry out of his way.
A knot formed in Trish's stomach as she looked down quickly. The air seemed to disappear from her lungs and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before being able to talk. Lita was looking intently at her shoes, not knowing what to say or do.
"What are you doing here?"
Her question came off coldly, and Dave noticed. His hands were in his pockets, and his sunglasses reflected the fluorescent lights overhead.
"I'm here because I heard Stacy was in the hospital. And because you're here."
Trish snorted at his last comment. "I've been here all night. Did you just find out about it at the convenient hour of nine in the morning? By the way," she started, cocking her head to her side. "Did you have a good nights sleep? Because I got about two hours of sleep along with Lita."
Dave nodded as if expecting this.
"I would have come if you had called."
"Thought you were too busy with Ric," shot back Trish. A sense of ruthlessness had taken a hold of her tongue, and she was in no way willing to stop it.
"I'm here now, Trish. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Trish let out a harsh laugh. Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at her hands, clenched so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She relaxed them slowly, willing herself to calm down.
"You can go away."
Dave looked over her head at the view outside. He stayed quiet, not seeming to hear her.
Trish swallowed hard. His silence was only increasing her fury. She glanced at Lita, who was still intently looking at her shoes, visibly taken aback by the way Trish was speaking to Dave.
"You know where to find me."
Trish's head shot up. That was it? He wasn't even curious as to her change in attitude? He didn't even care as to why she was acting like this?
"Just leave," she hissed. Her body trembled with an anger she didn't think possible. Had it not been for the fact that Dave could easily hold her down with one hand, she would flung herself on him.
He turned to Lita, who was now as red as her hair. "Keep me updated on Stacy's condition." She gave a small nod, still not lifting her eyes from her shoes. Dave turned and walked away without a backwards glance.
"Are your shoes that interesting?"
"I don't think he deserved that, Trish."
The small blond crossed her arms stubbornly.
"He wasn't here for me," she stated. "And I shouldn't need for him to be here." She turned suddenly to Lita. "Do you see what I mean? How weak am I? I cant even be alone for a couple of hours?" She scowled. "God, I'm so stupid."
"You're not stupid," reproved Lita. "You're in a fucken hospital, Trish. Even the strongest person in the world feels vulnerable in a hospital." She leaned in. "It's the coffee here, it makes you feel like death is around the corner or something."
Trish couldn't help but smile. "Maybe if you had put sugar in my coffee I wouldn't be such a bitch."
Lita rolled her eyes. "You must never have had sugar in your life."
Trish sat back in her seat, glad she could hold a conversation without wanting to hit something. "You wont tell anyone will you?"
"No. I think Stacy's feeling the effects of what that asshole did. And you should do whatever you feel you need to do."
"Yea," Trish muttered under her breath. "If I ever doubted Stacy's friendship because she slept with him, I know that she cares enough about it now."
"I gotta pee," announced Lita. "That coffee also makes you wanna go to the bathroom a lot."
Trish chuckled as she saw the redhead sprint to the nearest bathroom.
Everything would be okay now. There was no reason for her to think otherwise.
(X X X)
The buxom blond almost giggled with glee at the somber faces around her. She bit her lip to keep from bursting out into a fit of giggles, instead smoothing her skirt down.
"Are you sure those are the signs?"
Her attention was grabbed by the question directed at her and she forced a concerned look on her features.
"Yes, my, uh, friend did it when we were back in high school, and I know exactly what I'm talking about."
Truth be told, she had no idea of the information that was coming out of her mouth. She had merely memorized what Ken had told her, and from John's eager acceptance, it seemed good enough.
Torrie gave a small smile as she mentally ran over the events that had happened in such a short while.
She had gone to eat alone, and to her utter delight, she had found Christy there, looking worse than usual. When she had gone up to her cheerfully, Christy had only mumbled a hello. Dawn Marie had joined them a few minutes later, a confused expression on her face as to Christy's attitude.
It had been so simple.
Dawn was a natural chatterbox. Getting information from her had been easier then trying to give a gold belt to Hunter. The brunette had readily agreed to meet with her and after prodding lightly as to Christy's behavior, Torrie had planted a seed of suspicion.
"Sometimes people think that drugs will make their pain go away. It's only natural she would gravitate to using them now during her injury."
"Do you really think so?"
Torrie forced a straight face. "Oh yeah, people who are unhappy with themselves take them all the time to try to block out the harsh reality that is their life.
"You need to tell someone, Dawn. It really sounds like that's what she's doing. And you heard Vince's opinion about his stars taking drugs. If she tells him voluntarily, maybe the consequences wont be so bad."
"But I don't even know if she's taking any!" exclaimed Dawn, exasperated.
"If she's not, then she wont mind taking a drug test." Torrie smirked as Dawn bit her lip.
"Should I tell Teddy?"
Torrie nodded empathetically. "Absolutely. I think John told me something about her acting weird, maybe he should be there too."
And here they were. Teddy, John, and her. Dawn was away getting Christy. In a little while, Christy was about to find out why she should never have gotten involved with a man Torrie had claimed.
(X X X)
Stacy's eyes held a glazed appearance as she stared at the ceiling tiles. The last time she had stared at the ceiling, she had been in the midst of a powerful orgasm.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, as she gripped the blankets around her. Her face remained expressionless as she thought about the man that had single handedly ruined her friendship with Trish.
He had done more than that. He had shown her how stupid love really was. There was only lust. And lust was perhaps more powerful then love could ever be. After all, what was love if not a heightened sense of lust?
She looked up at the slow drip of the IV. She had just woken up, but she felt like she had been awake for such a long time. Her eyelids grew heavy. Who had brought her here? Had it been Randy? Had he finally grown a heart and decided he gave a fuck about someone but himself?
Somehow, she found this hard to believe. Her throat felt dry as sandpaper, but she didn't feel like doing anything about it. In fact, she would be content never to do anything in her life. Her whole body felt like it was crushed under a boulder, and she couldn't say she had the willpower to move.
A small sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes. It seemed as if the whole world had forgotten about her.
That was fine.
She didn't care about anyone else either. What had caring ever gotten her besides heartache?
(X X X)
Christy struggled to open her eyes as she heard a soft rapping on her door.
"Coming," she mumbled, forcing herself to get up. Even after meeting with Dawn and eating, she felt like crap. And she was sure she liked like it too. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and dark circles were visible under her eyes.
"Hey Dawn." she yawned as her fellow diva greeted her.
"Christy, can you come with me for a sec?"
Christy groaned inwardly. "Can this wait? I'm kinda sleepy right now."
Dawn chewed her lip. "I really want you to come with me. It's very important," she added.
Christy rested her head against the door. "Will this take long?"
"I don't know."
She thought about the warm bed that seemed to be beckoning her. But one look at Dawn's worried expression caused some of her drowsiness to go away. "Is something wrong?"
"I think so. That's what I need you to help me figure out."
Christy sighed. "All right, I'll come."
Dawn's face remained worried, and Christy couldn't help the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She slipped on her shoes and shut the door behind her, following Dawn into the elevator.
Once the doors were closed, Christy's sense of dread grew. Dawn was unusually quiet, and she seemed to be avoiding her eyes. "Dawn, what's wrong?"
Dawn shook her head. "I just want you to know that we all really care about you, Christy."
"Who's 'we?'"
The doors opened and the small brunette led her through a door. Stepping inside, she saw John, Torrie, and Teddy, seated on the couch.
Dawn shut the door behind her and took both her hands. "It's all going to be okay, sweetie."
Christy eye's naturally gravitated to John, who was sitting low in his seat, cap drawn down so she couldn't see his eyes.
"What's going on?"
"Christy," started Teddy. "We have all heard of Vince's drug policy. We suspect someone of taking drugs, we ask them to take a test." He paused as if considering his next words. "It would be in your best interest to comply."
His words struck Christy like a blow. "What are you talking about?"
"We would all like for you to take a drug test." Christy looked at Torrie, who had a look of contempt in her eyes.
"Why?"
"Because you've been using drugs, and we would like to get you some help," replied Torrie shortly.
Christy's features darkened. "I have not been using drugs."
"Then what was wrong with you yesterday?"
John's voice resounded through the air, momentarily catching Christy off guard.
"I don't even remember last night, John. Care to refresh my memory?"
"You were acting like you were on drugs," he stated simply.
Christy's teeth clenched. "I don't know if you all think this is funny, but if Vince even suspects that I'm using drugs, he'll suspend me."
"He'll get you help," interrupted Teddy, coming towards her. "You have our support, if you really didn't take them, take the test."
"You should believe me," said Christy, her voice rising. "Why the fuck would I use drugs?"
"Because you're hurt?" said Torrie, clearly enjoying herself. "Because your life didn't turn out the way you wanted it to? Because everyone thinks you don't deserve to be here just because you won some contest?" John placed his hand on her knee and squeezed to stop her.
"That's enough," he said lowly.
"I'm just giving possible scenarios," she protested.
"You're giving bullshit scenarios," snapped Christy. "In case you haven't noticed, you qualify for all those scenarios too. Why don't you take a drug test?"
Torrie's cheeks reddened. "You stupid-"
"Shut up," cut in John. He looked at Christy. "Just take it. If we're wrong, we're sorry. But the only reason we're doing this is because we care."
"If you cared," started Christy heatedly. "You would believe me."
"Christy, just please take it. Prove us all wrong," pleaded Dawn. She reached for her again, but Christy pulled away.
"I'll take the damn test. But when it comes out negative, I'm going to have to start looking out for myself. Because obviously, I cant trust anyone here."
Teddy nodded. "Alright. Just come with me tomorrow, and hopefully we'll get this all sorted out."
Christy jerked the door open. She took a last look at John, her heart wrenching painfully as his blue eyes stared back at her.
(X X X)
"Do you think she's awake?"
Trish shrugged as she stared at the door, unwilling to open it.
"Maybe we should open the door and see?"
Lita's voice sounded a bit impatient, but Trish didn't budge.
"Do you think she's okay?" she asked.
"There's only one way to find out," said Lita, opening the door herself.
Taking a deep breath, Trish stepped through.
Stacy's eyes were trained on the IV drip. Her face didn't seem to register that they were both there, and had it not been for her open eyes, Trish would have thought she was asleep.
"Stace?"
Her eyes slowly focused on the redhead who had called out her name.
"How are you feeling?"
The frail blonde's only response was a faint shrug, as her gaze swept over to Trish. She almost shuddered. There was nothing in her look. Her face registered no emotion, and while Trish had been afraid she was going to start yelling, her vacant eyes were much worse.
"Cat got your tongue?" Lita tried to joke. The humor was lost in the room, however, as none of them laughed.
"What are you doing here?"
Her question caught them by surprise. Even her voice sounded different. Hoarser… colder.
"When we hear that one of our best friends is in the hospital, we don't exactly look at it as an opportunity to go out clubbing," answered Lita.
Stacy nodded, shifting higher on the pillows. "I'm fine."
Trish stepped forward. "You're not fine Stace. The doctor told me you haven't been eating and you're under a lot of stress."
"I'll get over it," replied Stacy.
"I know that I probably contributed to that stress, and I just want you to know that I understand what happened with you and Randy. Lita knows too and she understands."
"I'm so happy you learned something from all this," said Stacy, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Trish and Lita exchanged puzzled glances, but Trish kept talking.
"When we get you back, everything is gonna be the same as before all this shit happened."
"We're gonna stuff you with so much food," promised Lita, smiling.
Stacy turned towards them, not a trace of amusement visible.
"Nothing will be the same. How naïve are you, Trish? Everything happens for a reason, and if you cant see that, then obviously you're blind."
"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Trish, disturbed at Stacy's tone.
"I mean, I'm not letting anyone do what he did to me anymore. I'm not going to be the Stacy that everyone runs to with their problems. Maybe I should take a page out of Randy's book and start caring about myself only."
"Well that's a piece of bull," interrupted Lita. "You want to be known as a complete jackass?"
"Maybe," said Stacy. "Jackasses don't get hurt do they? They don't let themselves get attached to anyone, so there's not a chance for it to happen. And really, why would I want to get hurt?"
"Newsflash," said Trish, anger beginning to seize hold of her. "We've all been hurt by him. You think I liked it when he treated me like shit? You think Lita liked it? Join the fucken club Stace, women get hurt by men but we have to have some kind of support."
"I don't want to join a club," retorted Stacy. "Because I don't need your support. I don't need your pity, nor do I want it. I don't need or want anything from you guys or anyone else because I'm gonna be fine on my own."
"Did they stuck an IV up your butt too? Cuz you're acting like a total bitch right now," said Lita, raising a brow.
Stacy only rolled her eyes. "I need to have some rest. Tell Eric I cant make it to tomorrow's show. On second thought, I'll call him later. Thanks for stopping by." She turned away from them, making it clear she had nothing more to say.
Both women stood there in stunned silence. They had expected a joyful reunion with their friend.
What they encountered made them wonder if this was really Stacy at all.
(X X X)
"Stacy's in the hospital."
The words echoed in his mind, refusing to let him rest. He had attempted to drown them out by picking up Candice and Maria, but to no avail. He had barely cum before he was rushing to put his pants back on, their faces enough to disgust him.
Now he lay on his bed, alone for once. His hands were folded on his stomach, his eyes focused on poles at the foot of his bed.
He hated canopy beds.
He didn't reach for his phone when it went off, and he didn't open the door when someone knocked.
It was all her fault. She had been the one who had let herself go. She had been the one who didn't say no to him. She had been the one who had been stupid enough to let such a simple thing like sex do this to her.
So why was guilt gnawing at the back of his mind?
It drove him crazy. He had steeled himself against feeling guilt. Besides love, which was just as stupid, guilt made people do crazy things.
Like that time when he had accidentally stepped on his neighbors prized roses. If he had walked away, no one would have known it was him. But his seven-year-old over-active imagination had convinced him that he would get arrested if he did not confess. When he had gone to Mrs. Rodde's house, with his head hung in shame to tell of his offense, he had almost been proud of himself.
Almost.
Until that bitch had ratted him out to his parents who grounded him for a month and made him do her gardening work for two weeks.
No, he had erased guilt from his life completely. And he wasn't happy that the old familiar feeling was back.
He had to do something. He had to convince himself that he had nothing to do with her trip to the hospital.
Maybe the only way he could do it was by taking a trip to the hospital himself.
