A/N: Well, that was fun. Here's the next part!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing, and I'm still listening to the song, which also isn't mine.

-

Chapter Two: Drink Up, Love

It was our Fate to meet.

I was still in developmental at the time, while he was up there, playing with 'the big boys'. They wanted me to do a try-out, and he was there. We started talking; he was trying to tell me how to improve my ability, when I took a chance and asked him to dinner.

We hit it off, and it escalated from there.

He asked me to move in with him, and I did.

I was released from my contract with developmental, and just decided to go into retail. In a city like Los Angeles, it was easy enough to find a job, as long as you weren't chasing fame.

Wednesdays became routine. I'd fix dinner, he'd come home, and I would hand him his drink before we both enjoyed the meal together.

Then one Monday changed everything...

-

She was coming up the front walkway when a red Corvette pulled up in front of the house. With grocery bags tucked under her arms, she watched as a leggy blonde stepped out of the car, pushing a pair of designer Ray-Ban's to the top of her head.

"Hey, you live here?" the blonde asked, making her own way up the walkway.

"Yeah. You looking for somebody?" She asked, hints of jealousy permeating her voice.

The blonde smiled warmly, causing the other woman to instantly hate her. "Actually, I am. Can you tell John Morrison that I'm looking for him?"

'No.' "And who are you?"

"Kristin." The blonde smiled, extending her hand before noticing the bags and retracting her hand. "Kristin Morrison."

"Kaylah Jameson." Kaylah smiled, feeling a bit at ease. "I never realized John had a sister."

The blonde, Kristin, let out a laughing, trying to stifle it with her hand. Unsure of what was so funny, Kaylah rolled her eyes and headed up the front steps, trying to juggle the bags and fish out the house key. She got some help when Kristin grabbed two bags from her, freeing up her hand more.

"I can see why John likes you." Kristin smiled, following the brunette into the house. "He always was attracted to women with a good sense of humour."

Kaylah shrugged, making her way into the kitchen. "I don't see how me saying you were his sister is funny."

"Because I'm not his sister." She replied, setting the bags onto the kitchen counter. "I'm his wife."

Tension hung thick in the air as Kaylah tried to get her head wrapped around the information. "But he said... John said he was single..."

Kristin let out a few giggles, her icy blue eyes sparkling in amusement. "John is far from single, darling. I'm wife number... five?"

"F-five?"

"Mhmm. Well, Danielle was his first. Then there was Tanya, who was followed by Cynthia. Jess and I were about the same time, and then there was Laine." Kristin ticked off the six names.

It was as if Kaylah's world had just stopped. "But, why?"

"He's a Mormon, Carla."

"Kaylah."

"Sorry." Kristin smiled softly. "But what John wants, John gets. I'm sure you'll be getting the question soon enough."

'Or, you know, not.' Kaylah thought bitterly, working on unpacking the groceries.

-

Poor, sweet John. Lying about being a Christian, and single.

I couldn't have any of that garbage, and after what he put me through, there was no way I was going to be the oblivious one.

If only he had told me when he met me...

-

She had her back to the doorway of the kitchen, busy with the chicken fettuccine alfredo, when he walked into the room.

"Smells great, Kayl."

Kaylah couldn't help but smile. "It'll taste even better."

"I can't wait."

Turning, she let him engage a kiss, kissing him back before pulling away. "I poured you some red wine already."

John kissed her again, smiling. "You're too good to me, baby."

'Damn right.' She thought, returning to her cooking, as John went over to get the glass, drinking heartily from it.

-

Who knew that even professional wrestlers were susceptible to the effects of arsenic?

Johnny didn't even make it through dinner that night. After spending hours making the pasta from scratch, as well as the sauce, you think he could have at least tried.

And apparently, taking special time and care on dinner doesn't work well as an alibi.

Maybe I should have seemed more... devastated... that the guy was gone. But how can you say that a woman in love is guilty for killing a man who never really loved her back? I'm sure the other six would have done it eventually.

I just happened to be the first.

-

I'm so sadistic. I'm laughing at this whole thing. Oh dear lord, someone help my sanity...