Chapter 6: Listen To Your Heart

Author's Note: So after I began writing this, candy-belle also posted a story dealing with the same split. I was totally excited, because I love reading other people's work, especially this author in particular, so of course I started reading. The issue is, I realized partway in, we have a scene that appears very similar. I worried for a moment that people might think I stole the idea, or vice versa. Clearing it up: While I had written my scene before I read the one in question, mine hadn't been posted anywhere so mine couldn't have possibly been plagarized either. I think it's just a case of great minds thinking alike. That being said, I'd also like to remind everyone what I've told numerous reviewers so far: nothing is ever as it seems. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. And make sure to check out A Rose By Any Other Name by candy-belle. I've been enjoying it as well. =)

Alex can't help it, something in him has snapped. To his credit, however, none of his punches connect. He tries to ignore the fact that it's because he's trying to hold back tears, and he knows that if he lets loose, really hits Mike, he won't be able to keep them at bay any longer. Once they're out of the ring, though, he can't stop himself, landing a few strikes against the back of Mike's head. He hears Mike make a few noises of pain, and he yanks the older back up, ripping his shirt in the process. He barely registers what he's saying even as he speaks.

"After all I did for you? After all I..."

He trails off, can't finish the sentence out loud. Instead, he drags Mike to the announce table, slides him over it and into the wall. The way his ex-lover slumps against the floor, he knows he's dazed him. He wastes no time, snatching Mike back up and getting right in his face.

"After all I did for you, you didn't even..." Didn't even tell me why. Couldn't even say it to my face. You son of a bitch.

He throws the older onto the announce table again, then scoops him back up and rolls them both back into the ring. He swings with a purpose this time, connecting solidly with Mike's face and then grabs him, slings him into the corner. A few fake hits later and he can't take it anymore, stepping away with a yell of frustration. He's never felt like this before, this awkward mixture of emotions that boils in his stomach and makes him simultaneously feel like throwing up, crying, and kicking Mike's ass, all at the same time. He still feels cheated, like he's been shortchanged in this whole breakup. Mike hasn't given him a straight answer once. He had put up with so much ridiculous bullshit, thrown away everything for Mike, and the older couldn't even be honest with him.

"Everything I did! Everything! For you!" All the beatings I took, all the bumps I felt, all the sleepless nights in pain, all the ridicule I suffered, all of it.

He throws Mike hard onto the mat, watches him bounce with an almost sick satisfaction. The older pushing himself up, and Alex almost thinks he sees tears in Mike's eyes, sobs trying to break forth. Good, he thinks, hurt. Alex swipes his hands over his face slowly, tries desperately to catch his breath as he's reminded they're taping, in front of an audience. He stalks back over, leaning down into Mike's space.

"Go to hell." he spits through gritted teeth.

Alex turns and storms over to the corner of the ring. He remembers he's supposed to end it some fancy way, so he rushes Mike, connecting a foot to the older's face lightly for good measure. Mike flips over onto his back. Alex doesn't stick around, can't. He storms up the ramp as fast as he can without seeming too upset, fighting his sadness the whole way. A storm brews behind his eyes. The second he's behind the curtain, Justin's beside him, saying his name and reaching for him. He suddenly feels like he can't breathe, shrugging his friend off.

"Not right now." he says, making his way down the hall to the locker room.

The second he's in the room, he's collapsing on the couch, face down. He buries his face in his arms, takes a few long, shaky breaths. It's not supposed to hurt this bad, he thinks. He thought he was past this, a brand new Alex Riley. He feels like he's back-pedaling. He hears the door open and Justin slip inside, walking over and dropping into a chair near the couch. Alex keeps breathing steadily, trying not to think about anything good Mike has ever done for him. Instead, he focuses on the way Mike had spoken to him in the ring, the way it felt as if the older was airing their dirty laundry for the world to see. It had felt like their breakup all over again, only this time, it was on camera, and Alex had to admit, he'd lost it a bit. But he couldn't help it! Once he'd started, he was completely unable to stop himself. He's honestly glad he's managed to keep from crying. He's so sick of feeling weak.

He sniffs a bit, finally calm, and sits up. Justin's sitting backwards in a chair, chin rested on folded arms. He shoots the high flyer a watery smile. Justin returns it, sitting up straight once again.

"You okay?" the South African asks quietly.

"I'm sure I will be. I mean, we've made it through the worst, right?" Alex replies almost hopefully.

"That's the spirit!" Justin exclaims happily.

Alex lets out an actual laugh. "That was...so gay, man."

"Says the guy who just beat up his ex-boyfriend in a wrestling ring." Justin fires back without thinking. His eyes grow wide instantly, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"No, no you're right. I have absolutely no room to talk." the younger says slowly, smile still intact. Even when Justin examines it closely, it appears real. He relaxes a bit.

There's silence for a few long moments before finally, Justin snickers.

"I can't believe you busted his lip open." he nearly giggles.

Alex closes his eyes, covering his face with his hands. He groans despite the slight smile on his face.

"I can't believe I busted his lip open." he repeats, removing his hands slowly. "I didn't even mean to! I just...I mean, I hate to say it, but it kind of felt good to hit him at least once. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No. Everyone wants to pummel their ex every once in a while. You just got the opportunity to." Justin reassures him with a kind smile.

Alex sighs quietly, leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Yea, but...I mean, maybe I was imagining it, but...He kind of looked...I dunno, upset." the younger says, an almost guilty tone to his voice.

Justin frowns.

"Alex...Don't forget, he's the one who dumped you. He kicked you out. It's not like he didn't have ample time to apologize. Don't feel bad about it." the high flyer tells him. "Who knows, maybe you knocked some sense into him and he'll come beg you back."

The younger breathes a laugh.

"You have got the most incredible faith in this situation, don't you?" he asks, turning his smile back on Justin.

"I've got faith in you." Justin replies softly, then turns away as if he didn't mean to say anything at all.

There's a near awkward silence between them for a few beats. Justin's unsure where the sentence had even come from. He can't even begin to count the reasons it's a really fucking bad idea to be getting feelings for Alex Riley. At the very least, he's beginning to think that at least Alex would return his advances. Unlike Heath, he thinks bitterly. He can't help it; he misses the redhead. But it's not as if Justin can forcibly remove the younger's head from his ass. Heath's got to do it himself. Alex suddenly coughs, ripping Justin from his musings.

"So, I dunno about you, but I need a drink, and there is a club around the corner that is calling my name." the younger suggests with a wide grin, standing and clapping his hands, rubbing them together.

"Uh, I, ah, I really don't drink." Justin starts to object.

Apparently, however, Alex's puppy face is incredible, because the next thing Justin knows, he's leaning against the bar in a low-lit club, bottled water firmly in hand as the lights flash and the bass pumps through him. He has to admit, at least the music is good. It sends vibrations up and down his spine that have him moving to the beat every so often. He reminds himself sternly that he only came to watch Alex, make sure nothing bad happens to him. He's glad he did, the way the younger has been slamming back drinks since they arrived.

Speaking of Alex, Justin thinks, scanning the floor. He lets his gaze sweep over the mass of writhing bodies until they finally fall on his companion, wide smile on his face and hands on a tiny brunette girl's hips who is grinding against him as if she's trying to fuck him on the dance floor. Alex's head snaps up as if he feels Justin's stare, his eyes locking with the older's through the crowd. His smile gets impossibly wider and Justin watches as he leans down and says something to the girl before turning and making his way slowly back to the bar. He slides up beside Justin, slinging an arm around the smaller man so hard he almost knocks him down.

"Whoo! I am having a blast!" Alex exclaims, tugging Justin close. "Thank you sooo much for coming with me! Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

"Really, I'm fine. I'm glad you're having a good time though!" Justin manages to respond. His thought processes are all shorting out with Alex this close. The high flyer can feel the light layer of sweat that's made its way across the younger's skin. Justin's shocked that the smell of it turns him on a little. Suddenly, Alex's lips are right against his ear. Justin closes his eyes, repeating to himself, he'sdrunkhe'sdrunkhe'sdrunk.

"I'd be having more fun if you'd dance with me, though. I promise I don't bite." Alex practically purrs, pressing closer to Justin as he speaks. "That is, unless you're into that kind of thing."

The high flyer swallows thickly, barely supressing the shiver that itches to run up his spine.

"I-I-I d-don't," and Justin has to pause and swallow again, cursing the way his voice cracks, "I don't really dance."

He tries to retract himself from Alex's grip, but the younger's flirtatious expression almost paralyzes him. He takes a deep breath.

"About that drink though..." he says. It's becoming rather apparent that he's going to need it.

XXXXX

"Oww! Fuck!" Mike exclaims, trying to pull away from Chris and his evil alcohol swab of doom. He glares at his friend. "That fucking stings."

"Well you have to let me clean it out. You can't let it get infected. I mean, whatever would you do without your cute little pout?" the older jokes, smirking at his friend.

Mike sighs begrudgindly, but sticks his lip out once again. He cringes, but doesn't pull away this time as Chris disinfects his wound. When Chris pulls back to examine his handiwork, he lets his eyes trail down the front of the younger's body as well. He tries not to flinch, but Mike catches it anyway. He shoots his friend a sad smile.

"He really did a number on you, huh?" Chris questions softly.

The younger's eyes dart away. Chris instantly feels bad.

"Mike-" he tries, but the other cuts him off.

"No, I deserved it. He was so hurt, man. I feel like I've been lying to him." Mike mutters, still not looking at his friend.

"Uh, you kind of have." Chris replies, trying to ignore the glare Mike shoots his way.

The younger has been feeding his ex half-truths and white lies the whole time. At least, when he hasn't been ignoring Alex entirely. Chris just wishes he understood that avoidance is not the way to handle this. The older sighs.

"Look, how about we go out tonight, just me and you? Have a few drinks, maybe dance a bit. Take your mind off things for a little while. There's even a club right around the corner." he offers, a last ditch attempt to help Mike feel better. At least if Mike got too fucked up, he'd be there. This was a good idea, he was sure of it.

He can't do anything too stupid if I'm there, Chris thinks as Mike agrees half-heartedly, right?