Warning: Shotacon. Puberty. Angst. Hormones. Gay and Bisexual dilemas. Swearing. Sarcasm. Underage Drinking.
Disclaimer: I don't own WWE. I don't own any WWE superstars. I don't own any pop culture products mentioned below. I don't condone underage sex or underage drinking. If you don't even know what the alcohol percentage in alcohol means, without googling it, then don't drink. OH! and i know shit about football so don't expect Madden play by plays, yeah?
Randy had gone to the halloween game before the party. Evan, Mike, and Stephen came with him. They ended up paying full price, except Orton, since John Cena had gotten him a discounted ticket the other day. Of course the others made fun of him for it. Joking that Cena was Randy's sugar daddy and was buying Randy's love.
Randy fliched everytime they said the word fag, like it was a pin prick to his naturally tan skin.
But the game had taken his mind off of his personal battle with dismissing the questioning feelings. He watched happily, loving a good game, watching live. Randy was never really one for watching sports on TV. Really, he only liked football as a way to stay close to his dad, as difficult as that seemed to be lately. That's probably the reason why, when Randy decided to not play this year, it had been an easy and quick decision.
The way the helmets cracked together in every play and how the chilling wind had everyone's cheeks blushed pink, it put adrenaline in Randy. He was shouting and cursing with the rest of them when, at the beginning of the game, their home team was losing. And then, like a rush of adreniline had coarsed through the teams veins also, they came back from half time and ended up slaughtering the other team.
The last play had Randy on his toes. Not because it was a tie-breaker (far from that, really). No, Randy was on the edge of his seat, ready to cheer, because it was gorgeous long pass. Teddy Dibiase, star quarterback, all around cliche rich kid with the hot cheerleader girlfrined, and dashing good looks, threw the ball like it was nothing new, the faux pigskin sliding from his finger tips, spinning with the gentle but chilling end of october wind.
Randy held his breath, only realizing he was when he jumped up and cheered with the home team crowd, even Stephen was cheering, and he hated American football.
The wide reciever slammed the winning ball into the grass, letting it bounce away from him. He started dancing, moves flowing despite the heavy padding under his varsity jersey. His hips were shaking side to side as he pumped his fist in the air. When his teammates rushed towards him at the endzone he started to dance even more, backing his ass up into them. Laughter could be heard from the team dressed in school colors. They were such clowns.
Of course, Randy knew who the wide reciever was. He could read the back of the jersey, he wasn't blind. But it only really hit him when the wide reciever took his helmet off.
John Cena's hair was slick and matted from the helmet. A sheen of sweat came from his face, highlighting his reddened face with the high voltage stadium lights.
On their way out of the school stadium, Mike was grinning. "Dude, you see those cheerleaders. I'd bring it on to them, anyday."
The others laughed. Evan replying with, "The redheaded one was hot. I don't care if she has no soul, I'd tap the ginger out of her."
Randy and Mike stared at him for a second before cracking up in laughter in an eery unison. They pounded his fists, amazed that Evan had said something so dirty.
Stephen, on the other hand glared at them. "So are you saying I have no soul there, fella?" His accent thick, arms folding over his muscled chest.
Mike patted Stephen on the back. "Don't lie man. You can't hide from us the fact that you're a souless ginger."
Stephen gave him a look and slapped Mike upside his head, snickering when Mike put a hand on the back of his head muttering in pain something along the lines of, "Stupid Irish bastard, that hurt."
They continued walking down the sidewalk towards the Dibiase mansion. They had no ride to the party so they had to walk the several miles to the party. None of them really minded, sure they complained, but in reality, they walked together everywhere, so it was no different then what they were used to.
The air was warmer when they weren't just sitting on their asses watching the game. Could have been since they weren't in an open area like the field and instead amongst the houses and random yard plants.
Randy hated the cold. Seriously. Like with a passion. Evan always joked around that it was because Randy liked being tan so much that his skin isn't resistant to cold as much as the others. Randy just thought it was ironic. Randy was cold-blooded, needing the sun to warm himself up and move pleasently in the warmth of loose muscles.
Suddenly, a horn beeped at them from the trail of cars coming from the game. It was a family sized truck, four doors, with a small trunk bed. It was sleak for something a couple years old. It stopped on the side of the road beside the boys, who had stood still watching the truck that had honked at them.
John Cena slid out the wide open window of the passenger seat, sitting on the sill, a broad grin on his face, his breath making soft visable puffs float away and disappear around his wide mouth. "Hey," he said waving.
As the freshmen waved back, nodding, with blank looks, wondering what Cena wanted from them, Ron Killings, who was behind the wheel, inched his car foward, making Cena lose balance a little and grab onto the hood of the car as if for dear life itself.
Cena pursed his lips and kicked his leg over John Hennigan, also in the front seat, and shoving his foot into Killings shoulder. "Don't mess around Truth, I'm trying to kidnap these innocent high school freshman, dammit." As he spoke, a grin graced his dimpled face.
Truth laughed a curt burst. "Sorry, man. I just want to hurry and get to the party before the it ends."
From the backseat, Teddy Dibiase and his girlfriend Maryse, and Maryse's sister, sat, his arm around his girl's thin waist. "Truth, you know the party don't start 'til I get there." Maryse gave him a look and he corrected himself, "Until me and Maryse get there."
Hennigan rolled his eyes and talked to Dibiase's eye contact through the mirror. "Everyone may start drinking when you get there, but the real party happens when you leave." Dibiase simply flipped him off, wearing his cocky grin.
Cena laughed, eyes squinting with amusement, before focusing back on the waiting freshmen, who had stood there contemplating if they should walk away during the exchange within the warm truck. "Anyway," Cena said rolling his eyes. "You guys need a ride up to the party?"
Evan looked at his friends who shrugged. He looked back at Cena, eyes glimering in deviance. "And are you going to just tie us to the roof or drag us from the tailpipe?"
Cena waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "No. No, no way, Evan. ...We were going to just slingshot you up there using my amazingly large jock strap. You'd get to the party before even realizing that you have my ball sweat on you."
The freshmen made faces of disgust and amusement. The guys in the truck cracked up. Maryse scoffed. "Mon Dieu, Cena, can't you contain your stupid wit when there are ladies present."
Cena shrugged with a forced frown. "Fine. I'm sorry Hennigan, I didn't mean to insult you with my insensitive comment about using my jockstrap. I know how much you wanted to use it yourself. But I already told you, it's too big for you."
Hennigan snapped his head to look at Cena, shock on his face. "What the hell, man? I wasn't even in this!" He folded his arms over his chest with a deep frown, getting even more upset when Maryse laughed at him.
Truth shook his head. "Come on, Hennigan, don't let that ruin your fun, he was just making fun of you, 'cause he likes you."
Cena nodded, enthusiastically. "He's right, Johnny. I only tease because I love you." he said, sounding like a deep southern hick.
Finally, Mike sighed. It was cold. His legs hurt. And he wanted to get to the party already. "So, uh, about that ride to the party?"
"Oh, Yeah," Cena said. He jutted his thumb out towards the truck bed and said, "Ride back there. It won't be a long drive."
The boys did as motioned, and climbed into the truck bed, holding on tightly as Truth jolted the truck down the road, laughing cheerily at them.
They were freezing. In the truck, though their legs were relaxing from the walk, they were catching harsh, fast winds to their face. But, in a way, Randy found it enjoyable. The view from the bed was different then from inside a car or walking. It was higher and more open. He could see the backyards of nice houses and the falling golden leaves scattering the ground every where.
And then, as if it was utter instinct, his ice grey/blue eyes drifted over to the boy at the other corner of the small bed space, studying the laughing grin and glimmering deep dark brown hues. The wind had blown a deep blush to his cheeks, giving him this flushed look that Randy couldn't help find... find so... so something. He couldn't place the feeling. Evan just looked... delicious?
Randy looked away, quickly, before anyone caught the flicker of dread in his eyes. He had to stop thinking like this. He shouldn't think like that.
When they got to the mansion, up the hill through black iron gates, all the lights were on and people outside their cars waiting for Ted to arrive and open the doors. Teddy took his time unlocking the tall arch doors, not giving a fuck about how cold anyone was.
Evan studied the inside of the warm mansion, feeling privelaged to see it. It was pretty nice, pastel painted walls and polished tiled floors. Pizza and chips lined the breakfast counter. Two deep buckets stood near the fridge, empty, waiting to be filled.
Behind Evan, Randy, Mike, and Stephen, came in the rest of the party goers who had been waiting. They all laughed and cheered about partying and drinking the night away. Four big guys brought in two kegs and placed them into the buckets. Ted stood nearby dumping bags of ice into the bucket and some ontop of the keg to keep the beer cold.
Some guys parked their truck outside the door and carried in some band equipment, guitars, drums, mics, speakers. The material list for a garage band. It took a second for Evan to realize the guy carrying a guitar was Edge. And when he saw them setting up in the large living room, he saw Jay put together the drumset. The lead singer looked familiar, probably a junior or sophmore by the look of it, wearing a vintage 80s band tshirt and stone washed jeans, his hair short blond and spiked up in the front.
Evan looked at Teddy as he stood, arms wrapped around Maryse, sipping from his red plastic cup. "How the hell do your parents let you have this party every year?"
"You mean," Ted smirked, the other seniors laughing at his side, "How is it I have like 3 or 4 parties a year and they don't know about it? Because they're always away on business trips when I have them and I pay off the maids."
Randy gawked. "He said maids?"
Evan nodded, eyes wide. "As in pural."
Mike pushed through from behind Evan and Randy. He held his hand out towards Teddy with a smirk on his face. "Hi, I'm Mike, I'm here to be your new best friend."
Teddy looked at him with humour on his lips. He just shook his head. Maryse scoffed, though. She looked at Mike and sneered. "Move away little freshman," her french accent thick.
Mike's eyes narrowed but he turned around to his friends muttering about stupid women.
The band had somehow set up in no time at all and started playing. The party goers clapped and started dancing. The beer was going pretty fast and Evan wondered if there was enough beer.
John Cena saw him looking and chuckled. "There is always enough beer in this place. Teddy stocks up his fridge the night before." Evan looked at him, wondering how an 18 year old can buy himself so much beer. As if knowing exactly what Evan was wondering Cena said, "Fake ID."
Evan nodded. He looked at Stephen who had a cup in his hand, frowning. "What?"
Stephen gave the cup to Evan and sighed. "American beer tastes like water to me."
Randy smirked. Stephen had told them all before about how in Ireland he'd started drinking as a kid. The beer was apparently better in Ireland. Evan looked down at the cup in his hand and sniffed it. He didn't know if he would like beer, since he never had any.
Cena grinned at him. His plan was in action. "Go ahead and try. A sip isn't going to kill you."
Evan nodded and his friends watched as he took a gulp of the golden beverage. He shook his head after a second like he didn't find it all that bad. After another few gulps, he'd finished his first cup, Cena was beside him waiting with another for him.
Mike was drinking plenty, too. Stephen looked at Evan and Mike with shining eyes. He turned to Randy and smirked. "This is going to be very funny if those two get drunk," he muttered to him. Randy laughed and nodded. The thought of his friends drunk was amazing funny. He could only imagine what Evan and Mike would say in the state of drunkeness, considering how stupid they were when they were hyper off candy.
Cena offered a cup to Randy and he took it. He smirked inwardly, thinking of how the plan of his love quest was on it's way. But John Cena would lose hope on Randy Orton getting drunk since he barely took a sip of his beer in just the first hour.
Randy watched Evan wearily. His best friend was walking around the party drinking from his 2nd cup of beer, nearly stumbling over his own feet.
But he had to admit, under his overprotective mode, Randy kind of found it a bit comical in a cute way. Evan's flushed cheeks were appealing and his careless mumblings were entertaining. If Randy had a camera able to upload on the computor, Evan would have been rightfully blackmailed by now.
Randy shook his head and rolled his eyes when Evan went for more chips and bumped into a pretty brunette.
Beside him, talking to Ron Killings and John Hennigan was John Cena. The blue eyed senior would wet his lips with the golden liquid in the clear glass bottle, not over indulging. Randy only guessed that Cena wasn't much of a drinker or was planning to drive home that night. Whatever reason it had nothing to do with Randy. Though what he didn't know was that it did, considering the fact Cena wanted to be sober enough to find out if hitting on drunk Evan and drunk Randy would end up in his favor. But to no avail since Randy just wasn't drinking.
But Randy wasn't drinking not because he didn't feel like it, because he did. No, Randy was too busy watching Evan like a hawk, making sure the shorter freshman didn't fall in the well because he wanted Lassie to come save him. Which, really wouldn't surprise Randy one bit.
Randy's attention strayed away from Evan when he was nudged by a broad shoulder. John looked down at him then nodded his head to the makeshift dance floor where some reggaeton song was blaring from the IPod house. His icey blue eyes followed the line of sight and watched as two girls, who were exceptionally sexy, were dancing with Stephen. And by dancing, Randy meant grinding into eachother like a couple of dry gears.
"I never thought girls loved'em casper white," Cena joked.
Randy snorted. "If he didn't have an accent those girls would have shoved him into a tanning booth by now," he said in return.
The seniors boys snickered but nevertheless continued watching Stephen dance with those girls. One girl was infront of him, his right arm slinked around her waist. His left arm was around the other girl, who danced into his side. Stephen swayed to the beat, face stoic, a sheen of sweat oh his forehead.
Stephen must have felt the eyes on him because he looked up at his friend and the seniors near the kegs. He smirked.
Randy smirked back, taking the moment to dry hump the air. "Get that!" he mouthed. Stephen just gave a curt nod like he was telling Randy that he had no other option.
"Yo," Killings exclaimed as Mike appeared at his side without warning. His eyes bugged out of his head. "What the hell?"
"Hey," Mike slurred, holding the word out for a couple seconds longer then should. Mike blinked hard, as if trying focus his eyesight. "I... I smelled a gangsta, cuz I'm sexy," he hiccupped, "And I do wha' I want."
The guys looked at him for a minute in silence, letting the thump of the IPod fill the white noise. Then finally Killings spoke up. "Yo, this kid need ta step away before I knock his crazy ass out."
As he finished saying that, though, Mike was already walking on to his next conquest... a slice of cheese pizza.
Randy just ...looked away. No one said you could chose your friends.
His eyes scanned the crowd back for Evan. The interest of his hidden desires was looking around, head whipping back and forth in search. Randy set his red cup down on the counter he had been leaning on and walked on to his best friend. To anyone watching, they could see the evident care in those icy hues.
John Cena watched as Randy put his arm Evan, laughing as Evan said something (most likely incomprehensible) to him. A hint of jealousy rang in his heart. Seeing them so close like that was annoying. He wanted to be with them. Have them on him. Holding onto his body as he kissed them and touched them. Instead he was watching them walk over, Randy pressing Evan into his body so the boy wouldn't fall as he stumbled.
"No luck in the plan man?" Hennigan asked. He leaned beside him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight jeans, the football jersey clingy to his toned body.
Cena had to mentally admit, Hennigan had a fucking sexy ass body for an 18 year old. Cena knew for a fact the guy worked out constantly, in fact, he would go with him most of the time, unless he was working. Hennigan had to be the most beautiful man in the school. But he was far from John Cena's type. Hennigan was hot, but other than that, he was kind of a douche bag. Not all the time. But Hennigan had a reputation of being a lady killer. He'd pick one up, date her, for a week or two then drop her like a hot potato. Sometimes, Cena wondered how he was friends with such a guy, but then he remembered how genuine and ignornant with innocense he was on matters other then sex, sports, and call of duty. And he was so easy going most of the time. Those times where he was flipping out was either from being uncomfortable or he was just joking around. Cena never really knew when it was which.
"Well," Cena sighed, turning his head from the sight of Evan leaning his thin, small body into Randy's growing muscled chest, the taller's arm around his shoulder holding his close. The sight of them like that was making Cena both jealous and a bit horny... Then again, the horniness was probably a combination of the beer, hormones, and Randy and Evan all close and unconsciously cuddly. "Evan's as drunk as his little body can take it. But Randy is still on his first cup. I think he's too worried about keeping an eye on his little buddy."
Hennigan gave the freshmen a good look over. After a good few full seconds, he nodded and sighed. "Randy's gay?" It was a question, though the way it came out, it sounded more of a statement.
"Tell you the truth, man, I'm not sure." John set his cup on the kitchen counter behind him and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, shifting his jersey to fold and collect against his wrists. "Like, if you look at him, you can tell he likes Evan, but I don't think he's liked other guys yet. So maybe he just likes Evan? ... Dude, I don't know. That's what the experiment is for."
Hennigan laughed at his fustrations. "Stop worrying about it man. Just let things ride out."
"Yeah, I guess," Cena muttered. He looked up at the freshmen who he has taken a liking too and looked at their faces with almost sad eyes. Why was he so sad? Shit, life was so fucking confusing. John Cena had never felt like this. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He felt so horrible about making these kids drink so as to find out if they liked guys or not, but he had to find out. He had to know if he had a chance. And if he didn't have a chance, he was afraid his heart would break.
Damn, what was he thinking. He was John Cena. He didn't get heart broken. He was the hot jock superstar with a sexy smile who was secretly bi-sexual. That was a combination of a man that would be strong to face everything that life threw at him. That didn't mean he was going to get heartbroken if some guys didn't like him the way he did them.
Randy's steely blue eyes were latched onto the way Evan's lips turned up gleefully in a wide grin. Those amazing eyes were cloudy. Maybe from the alcohol, or maybe from the same sadness John Cena was experiencing. John felt a pang of pity. He didn't want Randy to feel this sadness. It was a terrible thing to experience. If John could take it away, he would do it right then and there. On contrast, though, Evan looked just cheerful. He seemed a bit more carefree, nowadays anyway, compared to how he was with Stuart Bennett still bullying him those weeks back. But, if John looked hard enough -and he could be imagining this- it almost seemed like underneath it, hidden deep down, was an insecure guy. John wondered if it was because of Bennett that Evan was like that. Did that asshole make that kid start hating himself?! He'll kill him if he ever got the chance.
Woah! Why was he promising to kill someone for someone else. It wasn't his buisness... And yet if he had known, he would have stopped it. John knew what bullying felt like. Back in MA, before getting all buff and shit, he was a skinny anime nerd with baggy clothes and a thing for Vanilla ice. There were many a day that John was picked on. He would have done something. He would of knocked the shit out of Bennett if he had known Evan had been on his beat up list.
He had to stop thinking like this. He was turning into a love-sick girl. ...Love. He wasn't in love. He was too young to love. He wasn't like those other guys who are dating a girl for two days and they already say they love eachother. They barely know eachother. John barely knew Evan or Randy.
John came back from his zoning out as Evan and Randy got back to the counter, Evan eating a cold slice of pizza. Because he had been lost in the depths of his thoughts, John had somehow missed what Killings had said. Something about a hot girl in a nurse costume -he looked around to check her out happily.
Ron exclaimed, checking out the fullness of her chest, "why, tickle my pickle-"
"FOR A NICKLE!" Evan finished for him.
At the exact moment, though neither of them knew it, John Cena and Randy thought the same thing, "That's it?!" John refrained from searching his wallet for a nickel. Hey. If that's all it took to tickle Evan's pickle, right? But, alas, John knew it was just something a drunk kid was saying.
Hennigan and Killings, on the other hand were laughing hard. "Dude, how many has this kid had?"
Randy let a smirk tickle his dry lips. "Two."
"Oh, man what a lightweight." Hennigan chuckled. He took a long gulp from his own fresh red solo cup, as if to prove that a real man drank like he did.
Killings shook his head. "No, really. This kid's what? Twelve pounds?"
Evan hiccupped. "Nooo!" Evan slurred out long and slow.
"Eleven," Randy replied with a grin on his face.
Evan glared at him. "I'll-" hiccup, "remember this," hiccup, "Orton."
"Yeah, right, He won't remember a thing tomorrow," Randy said, taking the smallest sip of his luke warm beer, holding back a grimace at the taste.
Evan gave him a blank look, his inebriated mind having lost it's train of thought in the second it took Randy to speak of him. "Huh?"
Randy rolled his eyes. "What will you remember, Ev?"
Evan burped and shrugged as he leaned heavily on Ron.
Randy gave the other guys a look of amusement. "I rest my case."
John Cena raised his red solo cup up in salute. "The defense wins."
Killings looked down at the short Evan leaning on his side with buggy eyes. "Yo! Get this lil' Jimmy off'a me before I knock his ass back to coal mine with the other 6 dwarfs."
Randy glared at Ron Killings with mean icy hues. Killings tensed up and looked away. Apparently, commenting on Evan's height was a no-no, even with Evan being intoxicated. Weight, okay. Height, not okay. Gotcha. He gently grabbed Evan by the shoulders and leaned him against John Hennigan who looked up at his best friend with questioning eyes. But see, Ron didn't care about hennigan at the second, he just needed to get Evan off of him for fear of an evil Randy Orton attack. Truth was crazy but he was no fool.
Cena chuckled at the black teen. "What's wrong Truth? Scared of the puppy peeing on your leg?" He pointed his cup in the general direction on where Evan leaned against Hennigan, the short freshman hiccupping as he poked his finger at Hennigan's ribs with wonder in his glassy eyes. Cena surpressed the urge to pick the cute drunk Evan in his strong arms and hug him tightly.
"Nope, I just don't swing that way," Truth said, reaching behind them to a cooler filled with ice, grabbing a fresh and cool Corona. "Unlike you."
Cena felt his heart stop a milisecond, felt Hennigan's eyes on his face, as if measuring his reaction. Cena forced a chuckle as he relaxed. He slung his arm around Ron Killing's shoulder, the feeling of the red and white football jersey nice against his warm skin. He grinned, now, broadly. "Comeon Truth, I'm not diabetic. I can go for a chocolatey man. I'll call you Nestequick."
Hennigan spit out his beer, coughing and laughing. He doubled over, holding his ribs, causing Evan to stumble away, only to be caught by Randy. With the force of Hennigan's laugh, the other guys couldn't help join in, tears in the eyes of Teddy Dibiase and the beautiful Maryse. Even Truth laughed and looked at Cena with a grin in place. He high-fived the man and said, "In yo' dreams man."
The only one slighly uncomfortable by the whole exchange was poor Randy, holding his best friend stable on his feet as the shorter had laughed like a hyper 3 year old. He gave a chuckle for appearences, but the fact Truth so easily could make fun of something like homosexuality even to someone so obviously straight like John Cena scared Randy. Scared him a lot. It made him wonder, if they could pull jokes like that on the manly men, what would they say about Randy Orton, a pretty boy who spent every second he could with another boy?
They had to talk about him behind his back. Called him a closet fag. Because that's what he was right?
No! No. He was straight. He didn't love Evan like that. What he felt was just the love of a best friend to another. Nothing more. He wasn't attracted to men. He didn't think Evan looked absolutely beautiful when he did the shootstar press off the the turnbuckle. He didn't think Evan was just sexy when he slept soundly at night with his torso peaking out from under the muscle shirt when his arms were slack above his head. He didn't think Evan Bourne was amazing in everyway with those dark brown eyes and wide grin. ...He didn't think John Cena was handsome and charming.
Randy Orton wasn't gay, so he shouldn't be so afraid of people's comments about gays this and fags that. He wasn't.
Cena looked at Randy after he made his comment about calling Truth Nestequick from now on to see the boy lost in thought, conflicted. And John knew why. You could see the fear deep in his eyes. You could see it if you knew where to look. John knew where to look because he had felt like that too. Plenty of times since moving to this town. But John said nothing. This wasn't the place to say anything. And John realized, it wasn't even the right time to mention the subject to Randy, because the boy was still in denial.
Cody could hear the party's music a couple blocks from the enchanting and exquisite Mansion, it's main wing cascaded in light and crowded with people.
Cody took a deep breath as he opened the familiar front door, hearing Ted's voice from nearby cheering a "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"
He couldn't help smiling warmly as he let his eyes go straight to Teddy's stunning face. The beating of his heart rapid and hard against his chest, matching up with the drum of the reggaeton pulsing from the next room. His eyes roamed down Teddy's body, fast, so as to not be caught checking the other man out, but slow enough to admire the way the jersey fell from those broad shoulders or how those jeans were just the perfect fit. Cody gulped down the jittery feeling he always got when looking at his unrequited love. He smiled in responce, dashingly attractive to any person looking his way in interest.
But, alas, the charming smile meant nothing but a greeting to rich boy jock, Teddy Dibiase Jr. ...And that broke Cody's heart a little to think about.
His smile was just a smile. It wasn't a secret expression that Teddy would recognize and swoon over. It was just the movement of muscles.
From behind him, Phil pushed him forward over the threshold of the mansion door. Cody spared a glance towards Punk as he spoke over the music, into Cody's ear. "I'll be with Amy," Phil said. Then, seeing the helpless look on Cody's face, he added, "Text me if you need me."
Cody nodded and watched the back of his best friend as he retreated into the crowd of people to his girl friend, who was chatting with her bandmates, Jay, Edge, and Chris Irvine. Her flaming red hair stuck out in the band of blonde men, not that anyone minded. She was a knockout for sure, Cody knew. She wasn't exactly... his type, but he knew she was a total dream for straight guys. How Phil got with a girl like Amy Dumas, Cody was still wondering. Perhaps the similar taste in music and fashion helped.
Cody nearly jumped out of his skin when an arm slung around his thin shoulders. His eyes flickered up to the strong face above him. Ted was happily looking around his crowded kitchen of halloween sluts and drunken freshmen with blue eyes of crystal. Cody could feel his heart jump up into his throat.
He was just so hopelessly in love with this guy.
And yet, the man he loved was with someone else, someone not even in his general gender.
Teddy was with a girl. And Cody wasn't a girl, biologically or genderly. He was male. He was something he was sure Teddy wasn't the tiniest bit attracted sexually or romantically towards.
Cody could feel his heart ache some more.
Christ, he was so pathetic.
"Codester, can you believe all the hot chicks that showed up this year?" Teddy asked, grin on his all american boy next door good looks.
Cody didn't even care to look around. The only one he had eyes for in that mansion had his arm around him. And as delusional as Cody denied himself of being, for a split second he was in heaven just standing there. But it didn't last long. The feeling of the arm around his shoulder disapeared and Cody knew why the moment he heard her voice.
"You shouldn't be looking at other girls with me around," Maryse sneered to her boyfriend after his comment.
Cody looked at her and felt the knot in his throat. It was so painful to look at the girl Teddy kissed and touched and held against his gorgeous body. She was so beautiful. So amazingly pretty that Cody knew exactly the reason why Teddy was with her. He didn't blame him for being with her. He didn't blame her, either. He didn't blame her for being with Teddy. But, God, did he hate her so much. With her long and silky blonde hair, those pretty lips, her long legs. She was the catch. Teddy deserved the best. Cody was far from that. He was far from perfect with his skinny body and normal features... not to mention the fact he has a penis.
To Teddy Dibiase Jr., Cody wasn't anything other then just one of the boys and Maryse was the total knockout he got to bang after school, -heck, he wouldn't be any shocked if they did it during school too. Maryse was all Teddy could ask for, and Cody... well Cody was the farthest thing. And that's why he hated Maryse. She had what he didn't.
"Oh, baby, you know you are the hottest girl here," Teddy responded, moving away from his friend Cody to put his arm around his lovely lady.
Cody's stomach clenched and his heart fell into the depths of the abyss when Teddy leaned in and pressed his lips to the glossed pair of his girlfriend. He felt the air in his lungs halt and his face paled.
It was one thing to know they dated, another thing to see them makeout.
Cody couldn't handle it at all. It was all too much.
He walked away, back outside, not saying a word to his good friend/crush. There wasn't a point. Teddy was playing tonsil hockey with his girlfriend. He wasn't even giving a spare thought about Cody, or anyone else for that matter.
The cool late October air hit his face as he walked past the many teens drinking and talking as they smoked, backs leaning against the stone house wall. Cody should have felt it, but all he felt was numb.
He was numb.
The thought of the fact he didn't even last a full 10 minutes inside the Dibiase Mansion this party crossed his mind. He hated to say it, but Phil had been right when they talked about the party the other week. Phil had said Cody wouldn't last in there with the Maryse and Ted show on blast with surround sound, but Cody had said to him that he'd be okay.
But was he okay?
He didn't feel okay.
Nowadays, Cody never felt okay.
He highly doubted he would ever be okay with the fact the guy he absolutely is in love with is straight and dating the school's french blonde bombshell.
Cody was in so much pain. His heart was aching.
He pulled his cellphone out, pressed a few buttons then stared at the blank message screen for a few minutes as he walked down the long drive-way.
So badly did he want to text Phil and tell him that he just needed him there to cheer him up. But how selfish was that!? Phil was having fun at the party with his girlfriend. Cody didn't want to pull him away from that just so that he can have company as he licked his wounds. He didn't want to ruin Phil's night. Cody wasn't going to be a selfish douchebag like that. He wasn't going to tell Phil that he was about to have a breakdown outside of the mansion gates.
No. Cody wouldn't make Phil worry.
So, Cody instead wrote to Phil that he wasn't in the partying mood and had left for home.
He was sure Phil would know it was because of Teddy Dibiase, but Cody knew that because the text wasn't borderline hysterics that Phil wouldn't rush to his aid like he was some damsel in distress tied to a train track.
Cody walked home in the night's cold wind, hugging himself from the chill and from the pain in his broken heart.
And when the door to his room closed behind him, he slid down it, pulled his knees against his chest and cried into them until his eyes were dry.
Phil looked down at the text he just got from Cody and frowned. He had half a mind to chase after him, but he knew Cody wouldn't be happy with him for leaving the party just because of him. And Phil had tried many times to tell Cody that he was worth his time, no matter how much Cody denied it. Cody, though, was dead set against Phil coming to him in a time of need. Phil had a theory it was because of some egotistic, "I'm a man and I don't need help" mentality that Cody held.
Amy looked over his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "What's up?" she asked.
"Hm, Cody went home," Phil told her. "He's not feeling well."
Amy nodded then sighed. "Are you gonna make sure he's okay?"
Phil looked her in her pretty eyes and saw the defeat there. Did she expect him to go and leave her? He shook his head and took note of the relief her face flashed. "No. He should be fine."
Phil laced his hand in hers and held it tight. Amy was the best girl he had ever met. She was easy to talk to. She played in a band. And her happy smile was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He couldn't stop his eyes from roaming over to her at every chance he got.
"Adam, no more!" Jay cried from beside Phil. Phil looked at Adam who had a bottle in hand and was grabbing for another. Adam looked at his bestfriend and shook his head. He told the other blonde that he was fine. And then, Adam started walking towards John Cena and his friends, including the 3 or 4 freshmen. Adam chugged down the rest of the bottle in hand.
"Adam, stop drinking so much!" Jay pleaded, rushing over to Adam and taking away the fresh bottle of Bud Light from his hands. When Adam turned around and started hanging off of the amused guys in the group, Jay nearly had a conniption. "Don't you dare! ADAM STAY AWAY FROM THE IRISH CREAM! ... STEPHEN RUN!"
But Stephen heard the warning to late and found himself holding up a pretty drunk Adam Copeland, who was yelling extremely disturbing things in his ear.
"Irish cream tastes so good. I bet you taste good ... too, Stephey-weepy-booboo." Adam said. He had probably meant it as a whisper, he really did, but instead it came out very loud, and it nearly made Stephen jump back from the initial shock of having someone yell unexpectedly in his ear.
Jay finally pulled Adam away and pushed him to sit down on the sofa and eat a couple cold slices of pizza. Eventually, Adam layed down on the couch, over a couple of girls who weren't exactly happy about being used as a bed, and he somehow fell asleep, even with the deep bass of the R&B music blaring from the nearby speakers.
Jay put a hand to his head as he leaned back against the kitchen counter next to Amy and Phil, keeping an eye on his friend with the drunken slumber drool rolling off his face onto his t-shirt sleeve.
Phil took a second to decide if he should ask, making a couple of comically pensive faces, until he finally turned to his girlfriend and her bandmate. "Is he going to be able to play later like that?"
Amy laughed and Jay rolled his eyes. She said, "He'll actually end up playing better."
"We just don't tell him that," Jay sighed. "Lord knows how much he'll drink just to see how good he gets."
Cena, Hennigan, Killings, and the rest were still laughing at poor Stephen, who was not at all happy at the Drunk Adam Debacle that just happened.
"Aw, what's wrong?" Mike asked, elbowing Stephen a bit, hiccuping once before continuing talking. "Are you sad, Stephey-weepy-booboo?"
Stephen glared at him and said, "Call me that again, fella, and you won't be feeling your face tomorrow."
Killings threw his hands up, eyes as big as ever. "oh, big words coming from Booboo over here."
At this point, Mike and Cena were in tears and Stephen had walked away back to the girls who kept wanting to dance with him.
"Go get'em Stephey-weepy!" Hennigan yelled over the music. "You show them what Booboo can do, boy!"
Their merriment calmed and they went back to look around the party exchanging comments about girls and all else that came to mind. Only one not really participating in the fun was Randy Orton. He didn't want to be a downer, but he was so worried about Evan. Not that Evan was even aware of any sort of worry regarding him. He was so out of it. He was sitting on the floor in between John Cena and Randy, poking at their calves and singing some gibberish version of Mary Had A Little Lamb. Of course this all amused John Cena to very high extents.
Randy wasn't happy though. He was freaking out. He's seen Evan on sugar highs and adreniline rushes. But to see the kid drunk was all a different story.
Evan was completely out of his loop right now. Randy was sure that his best friend had become possessed by some alcohol eating demon or something, because he was on his fourth beer of the night and he was so skinny and short how was even holding that much alcohol!?
Suddenly, Evan fell back, laying spread eagle against the cold white tile of the party trashed floor.
Randy's eyes nearly fell out of his head as he and the rest of the group stopped talking and looked down at the not moving Evan Bourne. The taller freshman moved nearly at an inhuman speed and knelt beside his best friend, shaking his shoulders.
"Evan!" Randy called. "Ev! Dude, wake up! Ev!"
John Cena was soon kneeling beside him pulling his arms off of Evan, saying, "Kid, relax, if he wasn't knocked out before he is now. No need to shake his brain out."
Once Randy's hands let go of their grip on Evan's shirt, the smaller sat up, wide eyed and the look of innocence. He looked around at the others before standing right up, putting one hand on his hip and another fisted in the air. He then shouted as dramatically as Randy had ever heard from his best friend since they were kids acting as superheros, "I have to pee! HUZZAH!"
Evan was skipping towards the bathroom before anyone could register what the hell just happened.
The first person to react was Randy.
Party-pooper Randy Orton busted out laughing. His snickers became cackles. His long teenage frame slumped against John Cena's, shaking and completely at loss of control at that point. There was even a few seconds where he couldn't even breathe, open mouthed and clapping his hands like a complete dumbass.
Cena looked from where Evan had disappeared to, to the completely mad Orton. And then, the handsome football star bi-sexual, with the dimples to die for and blue eyes of an angel, started laughing too.
They both had tears rolling down their cheeks, unable to control themselves. All the others watched laughing as well, but not as hysterical as Cena or Orton. Those two were on a level of their own at the moment.
It was only when Evan staggered back from the bathroom a good ten minutes later had they stopped their chuckles and huge grins. The moment had passed and John settled back against the corner of the counter that met the refrigerator, which is where he had been standing before Evan had fallen over. Randy took Cena's extended hand and pulled himself up to lean against the cool surface next to the senior boy.
No one had noticed it, really, except possibly Ron Killings, but Cena and Orton's hands didn't immediately let go. They stayed linked for a second longer then the usual procedure might have called for. Cena looked directly in Randy's eyes when he looked up at him in that long ticked second.
Randy held back the blush that was trying to creep onto his face. John's blue eyes looked down at him in that one second with a smile he couldn't quite place.
It was like Cena was reading his soul. It was like Cena knew about how much Orton was struggling with his sexual identity -though Randy swore he was straight even to himself. And John Cena's eyes showed something Orton hadn't expected. They saw right into him and they showed him ... understanding.
And then, the second faded, their hands let go and their eyes turned away.
Randy Orton, now much more relaxed (from the laughter he had because of drunk Evan or because of John's warm hand being right next to his as they stood side by side, he'll never know), was able to enjoy himself a bit more. And now that he was, he couldn't help but have a good time watching Mike and Evan be complete and total fools as drunks.
The door to the Dibiase Mansion had been left wide open for hours now, no one really remembered who left it like that, a random party goer in the entrance foyer remembered a skinny sophmore running out of it earlier but he couldn't remember if it was that kid who left it open. Not that this guy cared, he was tongue deep in a hot chick from the town over.
Melina took a deep breath, letting it go silently, as she walked behind Milena into the party. She glanced around. The place was trashed already, red beer cups everywhere from sitting half-full on the banister to crushed and littered on the wooden floors of the entrance. She wasn't all that impressed by the look of the place because of the mess. But she mused on the fact it was most likely a gorgeously cliche mansion when it wasn't completely unpside-down.
Her legs were a wobbily on her new pumps, but she was managing a sexy saunter. It was hard walking in heels, she mused. That was most likely the reason she rarely wore heels before her transformation earlier today. It was a weird feeling, walking this tall suddenly, when one is so used to being closer to the floor.
When Milena and her walked in, it was like the guys in the foyer all stopped doing what they had been doing -talking, drinking, checking out other girls- and looked up to watch as Melina walked , none of them thought she looked like a complete fool walking in thos shoes.
Because she felt like an idiot.
But she felt beautiful, too.
How was that even possible?
The way her feet ached in those black velvet pumps was both painful but sexy to her. It was an odd feeling. To look in the mirror and think she looked like knockout, but to feel like she was totally out of place without her loose jeans on her.
Maybe this wasn't a bad thing? Just maybe the way she felt dressed like this was a good thing. ...Did all girls feel powerful in a mini skirt? Is that why so many wore them?
All the guys were following her with their eyes as she walked passed for a reason right? She held power in the palm of her hand by looking like this. Melina was looking sexy and she would definately get a guy looking like this.
As Milena and her rounded into the kitchen, Melina spotted Stephen's bright red hair and approached what was most likely her group of friends standing near the fridge and food table laughing and joking.
Stephen, Randy, and Evan were standing with some senior boys Melina had seen before. Oh yes, she had definately seen these guys before. Especially one. John Hennigan, the most beautiful guy she had ever seen. He had cut muscles in places she didn't know existed. She had only seen his abs once though, one day walking home from school with Nattie some 3 weeks back. He had taken of his shirt and she nearly had a heartattack. He was gorgeous. She would just die if he became her first boyfriend.
She stopped beside Stephen, calling all confidence on her to flirt like Milena had taught her. Be confident and make eye contact with the guy you want. Don't shy away.
She propped her arm on Stephen's shoulder, used to the height difference. She smiled coyly to her friends. "Hey guys," she said, not bothering to talk over the music since the guys were all eyes on her and she could bet ten bucks they were going to hear her either way.
"Wow, Melina, you look ...hot!" Evan blurted out, hiccupping right after. He reached out his hand towards her, most likely to grab her cleavage from what his best friend could tell, but Randy quickly slapped his hand down, not daring to take his eyes off the new sexy Melina.
"Thanks," Melina chuckled. She moved her eyes to Hennigan, staring straight into his deep dark eyes, but continued to speak to her friends. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me to our new friends, guys?" She smirked when Hennigan smiled.
John Cena spoke up, looking around at the borderline drooling group of boys around him. He was sure he would have been drooling over her too, but he hasn't been interested in anyone else since seeing Evan and Randy that first day of school. "I'm John Cena."
"John Hennigan," Hennigan said, looking Melina up and down, in what she could only describe as intertest and approval.
"And I am Ron Killings, a pleasure to meet a beautiful lady like you," He said, taking Melina's hand in his and kissing the back of it.
Melina averted her eyes from Hennigan and looked at Ron with a blush coloring her already rouged cheeks. She wasn't at all interested in Ron Killings, but she didn't rip her hand away from him, instead, she let him let go of it first and then smiled up at him sweetly. "The pleasure's all mine."
Stephen looked down at Melina with an arched brow. Did Melina go Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on them in honor of Halloween? Becuase this Melina was almost a polar opposite. The Melina he knew was nervous when meeting new people. And she would never dress like that, body on display.
She was staring at Henningan again and he was staring back. Finally, Henningan put his beer down on the counter behind him and grabbed her hand. "Wanna dance?"
She shrugged and with a smirk said, "Sure."
They went to the dance floor and he grabbed her by the hips, pulling her into him so that her back was pressed against his... rock... hard... chest. She was melting inside, but her face remained calm. They swayed to the band playing. Melina registered that she knew the drummer and guitarist of said band, but she didn't spend too much time on that thought, since she was dancing with possibly the hottest guy on earth at the moment.
They were nearing the finish of the song when a drunken yell of her name came from beside her.
"Melina, I didn't know you were coming as a prostitute for Halloween." Mike said from her right. She looked over with wide eyes. He just called her a prostitute!
"I'm not a prostitute..." she replied. "not my fault you don't know what a sexy girl looks like."
Mike made faces at her. "Oh I know what a sexy chick looks like. You look like a whore."
Melina glared at him. Behind her Hennigan leaned his head over her shoulder, just watching, as if he was being entertained. But Melina didn't notcie any of that. She was too preoccupied with cussing out Mike Mizanin. "I look like a whore? I'm sorry, I forgot about the expertise on girls you have under your belt."
Mike stared at her, lips pursed up. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you over how awesome I am."
Melina felt herself flare up with anger. "Nice comeback, asshole. How long did you spend thinking about that one?"
"All night," Mike said off-handedly. "It's pretty good if I do say so."
"You're a complete retard. It's like over the last few years we've been friends you forgot I was a girl, so when I decide to dress sexy for a party you decide to call me a whore. Fuck you, Mike. Never talked to me again!"
She could have stormed out. That would be the natural outcome of her words, but she knew Mike would get even more pissed off if she stood her ground and ignored him and went back to dancing with John Hennigan.
Mike's face went red as his jaw clenched. He turned around and stormed off, not even saying good-bye to his friends as he left the mansion and walked home, very suddenly sober. And very suddenly regretting his drunken words to the girl he's had a crush on since the seventh grade.
"well," Cena cleared his throat as he turned his eyes away from the trainwreck they all just witnessed. "That was... extremely dramatic."
Killings nodded enthusiastically saying, "When did we step into an episode of 90210?"
Stephen just shook his head. His friends were ridiculous. He would be dead before Mike and Melina finally realized they were meant to be. He just wished they would go off in the corner and snog. But no. Instead they fight all the time. And then who gets to hear all about it? That's right the pale guy with the flaming red head of hair.
Randy rolled his eyes. "I thought I was slow, but I think Mike is the new reigning king after tonight."
Stephen grunted in agreement. "Oh, Mike has been the king of stupid for a long time now, Orton. He has to be. If he wasn't that stupid he would have just told Mel that he likes her already."
Phil cleared his throat at that moment, calling the attention of those next to him. He had just so happened to overhear the conversation after watching the drunk freshman and the hoochie-mama freshman fight in the middle of the livingroom. "Not to be rude or anything, but it takes two to tango."
"And it takes four to Cha-Cha- Slide."
Phil and everyone sent a look of confusion and amusement to Ron. Where the hell did Truth get this stuff from? John Cena wondered.
After that interuption from Ron Killings, they looked back at Phil, eyeing him as he hopped on the counter and sat cross-legged. Stephen was the first to ask what he meant by the two to tango business.
"The way I see it," Phil started looking at Melina dancing with Hennigan. "She might not realize it herself, but she has feelings for him, too." He pointed his chin at her and saw the others look at her quickly, noticing that Melina was dancing, but her face was angry and her eyes would flicker around the room as if looking for someone. "You don't get that angry unless you like that person. And you definately don't keep looking around for him when you're with another guy if you like him that much."
Randy chuckled. "Now that you mention it, I wouldn't be surprised. They act like a married couple all the time."
Stephen sighed. "Fuck, they both like eachother and they're both too stupid to say anything."
"I don't think she realizes it," Phil said again. "I think her feelings are still so subconscious she doesn't even see how much she really likes him."
"That don't make this any better for me, fella," Stephen grumbled.
Suddenly a text vibrated in his pocket. He checked the ID to see it was from Mike. Randy looked at him, with raised brows asking him if it was one of his many girlfriends of the night so far. He shook his head and told the group it was from the reigning king.
"What did he say?" Teddy Dibiase asked. He had been whispering sweet nothings to Maryse for most of the event, but apparently he was as curious as all the other guys. Maryse gave him a look. "What? I just want to know if the dumbass crowned himself king of stupid yet."
Stephen let out a bitterly amused snort and read the text to himself first before he read it outloud. "He said: Shit I can't blv I jus did that dot dot dot."
Before another word could be said from Stephen a random drunk guy came walking behind them screaming "...AMERICAN!"
And then, not skipping a beat, another drunk kid from across the room retaliates with, "...KENNEDY!"
"Eeeeeeh-ver... A-gain!" Chris, the lead singer of the band, screamed into the mic at the end of a song.
John Cena looked around the house with eyes narrowed and face proving bemusement. "What the hell is wrong with everyone tonight. It's like the attack of the shit-faced one-liners."
Evan hiccupped from where he was leaning against the refridgerator, his fingers idly playing with Randy's t-shit sleeve, which Randy forced himself to not noticed. The small freshman looked up suddenly, making Randy look at him with the sudden movement. "I don't feel so goo'-"
He blew chunks across the fridge door on the other side of him before he could finish talking. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's better," he said before walking back to the food and grabbing a hand full of nacho cheese flavoured Doritos.
The group all somehow jumped back in unison when Evan threw up. John Cena, Killings, and Teddy Dibiase raised their beers up in the air in salute, all three giving a cheer. Randy and Stephen gave them a questioning look while Phil and Maryse rolled their eyes.
Teddy grinned. "Finally, the first freshman barf. I was waiting all night to see who it was gonna turn out being."
Randy and Stephen shared a look. Then Randy spoke. "Hold up, you guys were waiting all night to see which one of us would throw up first, and none of you bet money on it?"
Stephen frowned. "I don't know if I should be insulted at the fact you guys wanted to see us puke or the fact you guys didn't make any money off of it."
"Hey, now," Cena said putting his hands in the air as if in defence. "It's not like the game is just about you guys. It's for the whole freshman class. ...And I had my money on that chick over there." He pointed to Stacy, Randy's ex, who was poppin' and lockin' and droppin' it like it's hot all over some other chick like it was nobody's business. "Insecure sluts alway throw up first."
Killings laughed. "It's always like that! Makes ya wonder about lil' freshman, now, don't it?"
Maryse sneered. "Instead of thinking about insecure sluts, can we just relocate over there somewhere."
Stephen nodded. "Agreed." He gave a disgusted look at the barf on the fridge and then walked away with the rest of the group to the other side of the kitchen. They later laughed when some unknowing headbanger veered off the dance floor and bumped his dizzy body into the splatter.
Cena sighed, wiped his hands down his jeans and stood up straight. "I guess it's about time we take the fresh-meat over there away from the booze before he dies on us," he said pointing to Evan, who was trying to pump beer into an empty red cup to no avail. "We'll get him a juice box or something instead."
Randy nodded. They both went to grab Evan who latched onto Randy's waist so tightly, the taller almost couldn't breathe. John pried him off of Randy, laughing about how strong a scrawny drunk kid Evan was.
Randy's heart pound quickly. Evan had been so close. And under the smell of beer and other party fumes, Randy could smell Evan's cologne. He smelt so good. Randy always thought Evan smelt good.
John Cena looked at Randy as he led Evan to go sit next to the group. He saw the look of confused desire in Randy's icy blue eyes and smiled sadly. He was sad that Randy was so confused. He wished he could fix everything, make it clear for Randy. But John knew he couldn't do that. It wasn't his place. They weren't close enough for him to do anything like that. Though, John would love to get that personal with Randy. To know him. John would love to get to know Evan and Randy. Have midnight chats with them as they came off an erotic high, cuddling naked under the sheets.
Sigh, maybe he just read way too much anime fanfiction, John noted.
When they got back, Hennigan was already there with Melina under his arm. Hennigan looked up from behind his sunglasses. "Hey, Cena, we were just talking about maybe taking a tour of the haunted wing. Wanna join?"
Teddy rolled his eyes. "Comeon guys, I already told you my house isn't haunted. Can't you guys go one halloween with out going there?"
Ron's eyes bulged as he shook his head. "Nope! I know i saw somethin' last year. I bettin' I'll see it this year too! And then it gon' get got!"
Cena smirked. He had heard the story of the haunting the other day from some kid in his Spanish class, but he didn't beleive in ghost stories.
Randy, though, was up for it, along with the Stephen and Melena. Except Evan. Evan hated ghosts. And no matter how wasted he was, he knew they were talking scarey ghosts and shit and he wasn't gonna do it. Nope. No way. No chance in hell.
Hennigan had his arm around Melina as they led the group through the halls to reach the haunted wing. Next was Stephen, keeping a watchful eye on where Hennigan put his hands when it came to Melena. Behind him was Randy and a very scared Evan, who was ready to run for the hills if anything touched him in his fuzzy-brained state. And at the end, Ron Killings and Cena walked, watching amused as Randy kept looking over at Evan smirking and Evan flinching and gawking around like a pigeon.
The only people of the group not aprehencive about this ghost hunters adventure were John Hennigan and Ron Killings. Mostly because, well, let's face it. They knew it was all a game. And it was a game they loved playing on freshmen every year. And this year, the pair of best friends, had the pleausre of trying to scare their new best friend shitless. It was sure to be the best night of their young lives so far.
The building was dark. The only light was coming in from the windows where the party was shining in dimly. Also, Killings and Hennigan each had a flashlight. "We came prepared," Killings had announced before the troop went out to the deserted wing of the Dibiase mansion.
Randy walked next to Evan, trying not to find it sexually thrilling everytime Evan would inch closer to him when there was a sudden noise. It was just... . Sometimes their shoulders would brush and it ran the blood up into Randy's face, creating a blush he desperately hoped no one noticed in the darkness of the hall.
He should focus on something else. Yes. They were on a ghost hunt. He should be thinking of his favortite episodes of Supernatural, and with that thought, Randy realized he forgot to bring salt. He had half a mind to go running back to get some salt, preferably some in a shot gun hidden in the back of an Impala.
He was taken from his thoughts when Stephen leaned back to talk to him, making sure to face away from their scared little highflyer. "Hey, 5 bucks says Evan shits his pants 'cause of this."
Randy shook his head. "Nah," he muttered in his deepening voice. "I say he starts crying though. Five bucks."
John piped up from behind them, "ten bucks says he runs for it before anything even happens."
Melina laughed softly. "Guys, you're giving him to much credit. With the beer in his system, he'll passed out first."
Evan level a glare at the back of her head the best his could in his fading intoxication. "I'm right here you know," he scoffed.
Before anything else could happen the sound of a creeking door behind them made their voices and steps hault. Hennigan shot it flashlight's beam towards the sound but they saw nothing. Cena rolled his eyes. "It's the house settling, guys, relax."
There were a few scattered nods from the group and they continued down the what seemed like an extremely long hallway that lead to the garden. No really, how long was this damn hallway?! Evan was ready to just hightail it out of there. ...It's just he didn't want to go alone. He hated this shit. How the hell did he get pulled along with this? Oh that's right, Randy and Cena had both shoved him up the long staircase, down the hallways that had the lights on, down some more stairs, and into the depths of the Dibiase Mansion that apparently didn't have electricity or heat. Evan swore he could see his breathe.
Randy watched Evan with shy eyes, turning those icy hues from Evan to the walls and floor like a fidgetting bird. He didn't want to be caught staring, but he couldn't help it.
Suddenly a shrill scream peirced the hall behind them.
the group didn't even say a word or look at one another, they ran to the doors ahead of them. Hennigan struggled at first to open it, but after another mornful female cry from behind them, the door swung open and the group left the haunted hallway, only to reach the small rose garden just behind the deserted wing of the mansion, a garden that was fenced off from the rest of the area, only a sole gate to get to the rest of the backyard.
Evan sighed in relief. Randy placed a hand on his shaking shoulder. Evan was sure he just had a heart attack. If not, then why did it feel like his heart was about to come leaping out of his mouth? The adreniline from this damned ghost hunt had sobered him up right away. Realizing how close to Randy he was standing, he inched away, uncomfortable with the close contact of anyone at the moment.
Henningan spoke after looking around. "We didn't make it this far last year, Truth."
"No we did not." Truth said, making a dramatic look around at the garden with his buggy eyes. "I think if we just get to the gate right there we gonna be good. That is all I am doing right now. Is getting to that gate. I ain't need to be possessed by no damn ghost bitch"
Behind them, a potted rose bush slammed down off it's shelf infront of some bushes and crashed into many peices. To their other side, a small thin tree was uprooted without them seeing how it even happened, being distracted by the pot.
Cena, though freaking out internally, was the image of calm amoungst the unknowing teens. He scanned the yard and noticed other things amiss from when they came out originally. Apparently he wasn't the only one, because Hennigan stated the obvious "Something's changed."
"There's a change in the Landscape!" Truth yelled.
"Well you guys did say she was Mexican, right? She's just doing her job." Cena laughed.
Another scream from inside the house, just behind the door they had made sure to slam shut.
Evan glared at Cena. "you're making fun of the vengeful ghost? Are you stupid?
Cena smirked and apologized. No one else said anything, the soft sound of the nearby music adding a white noise to the exploration. Slowly, like a play off Scooby-doo, as a herd they slowly lurched to the door, some eyes directly to their way out, other looking around.
Then, right when they got to the gate, a female figure, with messy dark hair and a pale purple face appeared behind John Cena and screeched loud and angry, "MATAR AL DIABLO!"
The group was out of the gate and running towards the part of the mansion with people in it without even looking back once.
But if they had looked back at least once, they would have seen Teddy Dibiase coming up to the dark haired figure and hugging her and kissing her. The figure removed the dark wig and laughed, kissing her boyfriend back.
"This is the best year so far, babe," Ted said.
"I know!" Maryse laughed. "I swear that Evan kid almost started crying."
I want to tell you guys that I am extremely sorry. There's been a lot on my plate lately and I know it's been more then a year, but I fully intend to continue this story. I just have to survive life first, you know. I hope you guys didn't give up on me, because now is where the real good stuff starts up.
Also, I have a tumblr now, which i use a way lot more then twitter. So you guys can go on there and follow me. And when you see how procrastinating I am you can yell at me. I give you free reign. The link's in my bio. Sorry again guys.
Love Natsuki Lee
