Rating for this chapter: T+ ; Mature Themes
The sun cracked through the blinds, letting light into the room. Her clothes were thrown on the floor; empty wine glasses lied on the floor, unaided.
I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
Cause no one else cared
The bed was unmade, shuffled, her half naked body mixed in with the silk white sheets. The suitcase was left open, clothes and personal items draping out of it.
After my dreaming
I woke with this fear
What am I leaving
When I'm done here
Papers and folders lay on the dresser, unorganized and scattered. In the bathroom, several medicine bottles were left open, pills strewn all over the counter and floor.
So if you're asking me
I want you to know
Blood dried in the sink and floor and trailed back to the small table by the window.
(Chorus)
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed
The purse was spilled, loose change and many large bills fell on the table next to the cell phone and keys.
And don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Next to it was the open laptop. A website was still on the screen with a picture of herself, at work, just when she had returned, with the words 'slut' below it.
Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
(End Chorus)
On the side of it was an article titled, 'Controlling Billion Dollar Bitch is back and firing officials left and right'. Then the alarm clock blared.
Its noise woke her to a start; her head quickly popping up, startled, and looked around, frantic. Her eyes found the clock, and glared at it, while she slammed her hand down on it, shutting it off.
So if you're asking me
I want you to know
She sat up all the way and brushed back her blonde hair. Groaning and clutching her head, which was throbbing, she slowly got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom.
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that ive done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed
With her eyes still partially closed, she bent down, turning on the water, and rinsed her face. Wiping it off with a towel, she pulled back the shower curtain and turned it on, all the way to the hottest setting.
Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
She threw the towel in the corner and peered at herself in the mirror. Heavy, voluminous eyes stared right back at her. Her normally bright blue eyes were dark and clouded, her lips in a thin line, looking like death itself.
Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
She hastily opened the medicine cabinet and pulled pill bottles out. Closing it, she popped off the top and dumped them in her hand, then threw her hand back and shoved them down her throat, swallowing hard.
Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well
She threw the bottle down and did the same thing to the second one.
Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
Panting profoundly, she leaned over the sink and stared back at herself again.
She blinked, fighting off a wave of dizziness, and lifted up the toilet seat and threw up.
Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
She sighed, in substance, as the steam filled her lungs and her naked body washed itself of the sins from the hot sweltering water.
Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
Though the hot water turned her skin red, she did not care.
Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well
It felt good. It felt real.
Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
I can't be who you are
(end song)
As she grabbed the shampoo bottle, her thoughts drifted to what had occurred between her and John Cena several days ago. Then, the thought of her father and the council jumping on her about Paul Heyman's backstabbing and stealing many talents from them. Of course she'd get blamed for that. It was all her fault. She never got the recognition of the good things she'd done; alone the negative things. She's never been enough. Not through her middle and high school; not through college and now in her career. She wasn't enough for her ex-husband and she wasn't enough for her family and friends. She wasn't the good boss; she was the enemy. It wasn't her; that wasn't who she was. So why was she always attacked and why did it affect her so much? She could only put on a show for so long. And twenty seven years was in fact a long time. As she wrapped the towel around her, she sighed, feeling slightly better, but still with a small headache. As she got of the bathroom, her cell phone rang. She gradually walked over to it, knowing full well it was a business call. Someone wanted to bitch her out once more. What else was new? Rolling her eyes, she reached and flipped open the phone, saying her proper introduction: "Stephanie McMahon."
The news had traveled fast. WWE lost over seven million dollars from ECW breaking away from WWE and the USA network and Sci-Fi to going over to the Spike Channel on an extensive viewing. Not only did they lose money by network, but by losing over twenty superstars, new ones included, to ECW, ripped from OVW, Smackdown and Raw. Then they lost money in merchandising when ECW and Heyman filed a lawsuit against them for unlawfully selling the products once the stars contracts were ripped up.
Once Stephanie pulled into the parking lot, her head began to pound. Never had the business been in so much trouble, financial or otherwise, and her father always made sure of that. Now, somehow, someway, everything was falling apart, and all in her management. Evidently, it didn't look too good for her.
"How do you explain all of this, Miss McMahon?" one of the senior members asked.
Of course, Stephanie was at a lost. What exactly was she to say? What could she say? Instead, she inhaled and replied, "I don't know, Mr. Fullon."
He sighed, shook his head, and wrote something down in his notebook. Stephanie glared at him, but said nothing. From across the table, her father was conspicuously staring at her, unmistakably angry, but powerless to speak.
"Well," said another member, "World Wrestling Entertainment is in quite a tangle. We now have a lawsuit against us, we are fast approaching a debt and we've lost, not only fans, but over two hundred and fifty million dollars, just in this past week." Stephanie looked down, feeling mortified and doubled teamed between her family and the council. "We're thinking of replacing the leadership on Raw."
Stephanie's head popped up. "What?" She looked at her father, who didn't say anything. "Why?"
He stared at her, his eyes boring into hers as he folded his hands and sat up straighter. "Miss McMahon, Paul Levesque and Michael Hickenbottom, are both out of action. The storyline has Adam Copeland moving to Smackdown and John Cena has lost his huge fan support. Raw's biggest talents, the leading headliners, are no longer there."
Stephanie's eyes narrowed. "Paul is coming back in two weeks, Michael is getting cleared in three days, I'll find an excellent heel for the fans to hate to raise John's fan support and I will rewrite the storyline for Adam!" she replied testily. "Myself and Chris Irvine are doing our best. Do you honestly think I wanted this or even expected it!" she demanded. She stood up, her palms pressed on the table as she leaned forward, her irate eyes going from her father to the members. "I warned you all," he turned to her father, glaring at him, "I warned you, not to hire Heyman again. But you all ignored me, and now you dare to blame me for your fuck up!"
The senior member stood up as well, challenging Stephanie. "Miss McMahon!"
She glared at him and stood up straight, crossing her arms across her chest, and glaring at him. "Are you challenging me?
"This kind of behavior will not be tolerated!" he bellowed.
She raised her eyebrow. "No? Let me tell you something; the fans think of me as a manipulative bitch." Vince stared at his daughter with a poignant expression, but still remained unspoken. "Heyman is a cocky asshole. Give me one week and I guarantee you that not only will I raise ratings for Raw, but I'll bring Heyman to his knees, begging for mercy."
The senior member raised his eyebrows and looked at the other members, silently conversing. He sighed and looked at Stephanie. "You've always been confident before, Stephanie," he said quietly. He glanced at Vince. "Your father has always been speaking highly of you so we will grant you this. However, if you do not meet what you have said, you will be fired, and not even your family will be able to stop that from happening. Do you understand?"
Stephanie gathered her papers together and gave him a short look. "Perfectly," she sneered.
Then she stomped out of the office, her high heels clicking against the perfectly waxed tile.
Randy twirled the basketball on his finger and smiled as he was balancing it perfectly just as he heard squealing. Losing his concentration, he stopped and turned to see a silver BMW speeding into the back lot of the arena, burning rubber as it made a sharp turn and slammed on the brakes, finding a parking space. He raised his eyebrows as he read the tag. 'Billion$$'. He smiled as Stephanie stepped out, slamming the door, and clicking the alarm, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking rapidly in his direction.
"Hey Steph," he greeted.
Without looking at him, she replied, "Hey Randy."
He followed her, bouncing the basketball. "So, any big plans tonight?" he asked.
"No."
"Really? No big matches?"
"Nope." She opened her office door and threw her bag down as Randy let himself in. He watched as she went directly to the phone.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Working." She raised her eyebrows as she pressed the receiver against her ear. "Are you bored or something?"
He smiled weakly and nodded. She shook her head as a thought suddenly occurred to her. She slowly hanged up the phone and looked at Randy. He noticed the look and took a few steps back. "What?" he said. "I don't like that look."
"Randy," she said slowly, standing up. He backed away even further, not liking her tone. "I need a big favor from you."
He shook his head. "Stephanie."
She batted her eyelashes. "Please."
He rolled his eyes, sighing. "You know I hate when you do that," he muttered.
"You'll enjoy it."
He looked at her closely. "Why?"
Her eyes darkened. "Remember RVD?" Randy looked at her closely. "I want you to take him out. He better be escorted to the back suffering from an injury."
Randy smirked, liking the sound of that. "Just tell me when."
She smiled back at him. The smirk on her face scared him slightly, but he pushed the feeling away. "Tonight."
As John walked down the hallway of the arena, he spotted Vince sitting in a corner, holding the ECW belt on his lap. Raising an eyebrow, he walked over to his boss. "Hey, Vinnie." Vince looked up at John, but said nothing. "You alright?"
"Yeah."
John frowned. "Sure don't sound like it." He pointed to the belt. "I'd sound a lot happier than that holding that belt."
Vince stood up and looked at the WWE champion. "It's all going to hell," he said as he turned to walk away.
John shook his head and jogged up to him. "Wait, what?"
"The company," the older man muttered. "I sank all these years into it, all this money, and now in my 'golden years', one little backstabbing, little, dickhead ruins it because he thinks he can take advantage of my family."
John frowned. "Vince, you gotta believe we'll bounce back from this."
He turned and faced John. "I can't interfere in this. So no, I don't know if I believe in it."
John looked at him. "What're you talking about?"
Vince sighed. "In the WWE contract, for the business, I've signed a sworn statement, stating my successor."
John nodded. "Okay."
Vince blinked, almost wanting to slap that kid for being stupid. "I chose Stephanie, but the council thinks it's a mistake."
John blinked. "Why? She's great."
Vince nodded. "That's what I've said. The very fact that Heyman tried this shit and we've lost so much money just convinces them even more that she's not."
John shook his head. "Okay, so what exactly are you saying? They're gonna fire Stephanie?" Vince nodded. "They can't do that."
"Sure they can. If in one week things don't change, they'll strip her of her title and kick her out the door," he told John. "But what kills me the most is that there's not a damn thing I can do about it."
"Maybe you can't do anything about it," John said, his voice tight and filled with assurance. "But I can."
- Linkin Park's- Leave Out All the Rest
I was going to write more to the chapter, but I figured I'd end it here and continue on another chapter to update later, you know, leaving room for reviews and opinions. :)