A/N: Well, here we are at last. To everyone who read and reviewed, you're awesome and I thank you so much. It's nice to know that some of you actually take the time to review this, instead of just adding it to the faves/alert list and not even bothering to leave me your opinion. I'm thrilled you all enjoyed this, and again, thank you for reading!

A big thanks goes to Robbells (Rhiannon Leigh Black) for suggesting JBL for the last chapter.

Chapter 7: Sloth—Matt Hardy

"Idle hands are the Devil's workshop"—Unknown

"MATTHEW MOORE HARDY!"

The former ECW champion cringed at the unnaturally high shrill of his girlfriend, Missy Leigh's, voice. The two of them had been living together for four years now, and he knew her well enough to know that that particular tone of voice equaled trouble for him. He sighed and ran his palm over his face, trying to think of what he could have possibly done this time to make her mad.

"Yes, Missy?" he questioned, as he slid around in the large recliner chair he was currently positioned in, meeting Missy's gaze with his eyes. Missy's hands were on her hips and her blonde hair was askew, several strands falling across her face as she spoke. After four years of living with Matt, Missy was beginning to think that maybe it was time for them to go their separate ways. After all, Matt didn't do anything to help out around the house anymore, literally nothing. A typical day for Matt Hardy consisted of sleeping till three or four in the afternoon, raiding the refrigerator and pigging out until he was absolutely full, watching TV for a little bit, and then going back to bed again. It was a constant, never-ending cycle for Missy and Matt. And frankly, the Canadian woman was sick of it.

"Don't 'yes Missy' me, Mister," she hissed, quite aggravated. "You promised me that you were going to clean up the house before I got home from work today." Missy pointed an accusatory finger in the face of the dark haired North Carolinian. "Look at this house, it's filthy." She motioned to the endless pile of paper plates and plastic cups that were strewn around the house. "What's wrong with you, Matthew?"

He simply shrugged, not ready to have this conversation again. It seemed like no matter what he did, he always caught flack from the blonde Canadian. He'd worked his ass off for the better part of twelve years—didn't he deserve a little rest and relaxation. So he spent most of his days sleeping and eating. So what? After all the bumps he took, the bruises that covered his body, and the life-threatening injuries he'd sustained, wasn't it only right that he take some time off? Was he really being lazy? Matt didn't think so. In his opinion, Missy just wanted something to bitch at him about. She was just bitchy by nature anyway.

"Mel, I told you, I can't do any kind of physical labor until my foot heals," Matt began. "And even if I could, bitching at me probably isn't the best way to get me to do work." He relaxed against the couch, stretching his back muscles out. "Besides, it's not like you work that hard. Try working for 270 plus days a year."

Missy rolled her eyes in disgust. Where was the hard-working, give-everything-his-all man that she'd fallen in love with? She swept her eyes across the small living room and fought back a grunt. The room was filthy, and Missy knew that the upstairs area would be just as disheveled. Matt couldn't seem to realize how lazy and complacent he'd become over time—when they first started dating, he was the perfect boyfriend, always cleaning up, insisting that Missy had enough to deal with at work. He would always cook the meals, and the two of them had date nights at least once a month. A tear slipped out of Missy's eye as she realized a harsh truth that hadn't come to her attention until now: Matt was even too "tired—really, it was just laziness—to be affectionate anymore. Gone were the sweet gestures Matt had once shown, like rubbing the back of Missy's neck and kissing her forehead. Matt always complained that he wasn't "in the mood anymore", and even though she let it go every night because she didn't want to start an argument, Missy was very hurt by Matt's words. She felt like she wasn't attractive to him anymore, when that wasn't even the issue at all. The downfall of Matt was slowly emanating, day by day, and there wasn't a thing that Missy, Jeff, Shannon, or Gregory could do about it. The only person that could save Matt was Matt. But because he didn't realize the severity of the issue, Matt continued to trudge along the path, not even realizing what he was doing to his friends and his family.

"What…" Missy started to say, but closed her mouth quickly. Almost every conversation she had with Matt now ended in an argument, and after working all day with screaming children, she just didn't have the strength for it. The Canadian wished that there was some way that she could make Matt see what he'd become and the path that he was headed down, but if Jeff couldn't accomplish anything, how could she? Their relationship was deteriorating quickly because of Matt's lack of enthusiasm and lack of desire to straighten up.

"You know what, I'm going to Jeff's to visit for a while," the blonde stated, as she grabbed her car keys and her purse off the nearest table that wasn't filled with junk. She was very close with Jeff's girlfriend, Kaylah, and Missy knew that at least over there, she could vent her frustrations without having an argument in response. It wasn't like Matt was going to miss her, anyway. He'd just sleep most of the day, wake up, eat a little bit, and then fall asleep with the food in his lap. Missy looked over her shoulder before she left, at least expecting some sort of response. But, just as she'd predicted, Matt was now asleep, his usual dinner of steak and potatoes placed on a plate in his lap.

If only the fans could see this, Missy thought sadly, closing the door behind her and locking it in the deadbolt. Most women would kill to be with Matt Hardy—too bad they didn't know that the real Matt Hardy was a lazy, disgusting, boring pig. Missy hadn't known herself, but now she did—and that meant that sooner or later, she was going to have to decide whether or not being with him was worth it any longer.

I apologize for any errors/typos..I typed this on the couch, with my laptop in my lap. I managed to break my tail bone the other day, and lying down is the only way I'm comfortable. LOL. Anyway, you guys rock for reading and reviewing this!