A/N: Kylie, I just got off an insane youtube high. You're in luck. And it's better because Cara Mascara pretty much just wrote the greatest story ever for me and you should all go attack her profile page and READ IT AND REVIEW IT NOW.

"Jesus mother fucking Christ, who is that?" CM Punk asked, staring at the television monitor in front of him. He turned to his best friend, Scott, but more recognizable as Colt Cabana.

Scott scratched the back of his head in thought. "Shit, I know her name. I know this…"

The two were sitting in Punk's living room, watching the last OVW show on tape. The final of the women's tournament was currently showing. "She is seriously beating the crap out of Katie Lea. That shit is amazing."

"Damnit, Punk! Who the fuck is she? I know this! I know her name. Al Snow was always raving about her…calling her the wrestling lovechild of Lita and Trish Stratus…"

"Think, man, think!"

One…two…three

"She lost?" Punk asked incredulously, shocked that creative let someone with so much talent just run down the drain like that.

"Fuck…I've got it!" Scott gasped, putting his finger up in the air. "Kylie! Yeah, her name is Kylie, and she's pretty much amazing."

"No shit, Sherlock," Punk replied, playfully smacking his best friend on the arm. "Do you know her?"

"Aw, is my little Punky getting a crush?" Scott said in a baby voice, making fun of his friend.

Alas, Punk was smarter than his friend. "I'm sorry, but is it wrong to want to meet a girl who can actually wrestle and could probably kick the shit out of what's her face?"

"Kelly Kelly?"

"Yeah, that chick." Scott started laughing. "What's up with you, jerk off?" Punk asked.

"Well, now that I remember who she is, I can also remember a couple of things about her. I know for a fact that Kylie despises Kelly Kelly with a passion," Scott explained.

"Ooh, why?" Punk asked, leaning forward on the couch with his elbows on his knees and his hands under his chin.

"Does that really need explaining?"

"Nah, but I'd really like to know why. She's kind of hot."

"Crush!"

"No, it's just a polite observation."

X

"Oh, fuck," Beth Phoenix muttered under her breath upon entering the Divas locker room at the FCW show.

Kylie was passed out on a bench, a syringe on the ground just below her limp hand that was hanging near the ground. Beth rushed over to the fallen girl and tried to shake her awake out of her drugged out stupor. Beth's sheer strength worked it this situation. Kylie rolled her head to the side and weakly opened up her eyes a bit. "Beth? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Appearance. What the hell are you doing like this?"

"Like what?" Kylie asked, honestly oblivious to the fact that she had just passed out on a heroin high.

"You drugged yourself up again! Kylie, this shit needs to stop!" Beth yelled.

Kylie and Beth had been good friends for a while, dating back to when both of them had been in OVW. Beth knew of Kylie's self destructive ways and didn't approve of them whatsoever. Kylie knew of this, of course, but Beth knew not to interfere. Kylie was one stubborn bitch, and Beth knew that no matter how must she tried to sober up her friend, it was a useless endeavor.

"It doesn't need to stop," Kylie muttered groggily. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"You insane bitch!" Beth screamed, forcefully pulling Kylie up by the arm. She didn't really mean that Kylie was a bitch. It was just a part of Beth's "angry" vocabulary. "You weren't sleeping. You were fucking passed out from all of those fucking drugs that you're sticking in yourself. Jesus Christ, woman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're addicted to this shit like Batista is on steroids."

"Are you trying to take my needle away, Beth?" Kylie gasped, reaching around for her syringe. Beth quickly moved her foot and placed it on top of the syringe, dragging it away from Kylie. She bent down, picked it up, and left the room.

"Beth I fucking hate you!" Kylie yelled at Beth's retreating figure. A few minutes later, Beth returned, having ditched the drug supplying device. "Where the hell is it?"

"Who cares where it is? Look, I came here to find you for a reason, and it sure as hell wasn't to find you all drugged out and passed out on a bench. I have a surprise for you."

"You bought me a new syringe?" Kylie wondered hopefully with wide eyes.

Beth stared at her for a moment, and then her stare turned into a quick glare. "Um…no. After this show is over…wait, are you even wrestling tonight?"

"Of course not. Why the hell would they let me do anything? I just got here, even though I've officially been wrestling longer than any of the other girls that are here at FCW. Next week, I'm jobbing! Can you believe it! I'm fucking jobbing to some new chick! Yay for four years of developmental training and three years in the independent federations!"

"Please tell me you were sarcastic."

"I'm about as serious as the statement that John Cena can wrestle."

"Good. I'm glad you've retained your sense of humor while you're all fucked up on heroin. Real nice, Ky. Well, since you aren't doing anything, do you want to ditch out early with me?"

"Anything to get out of this place is a good thing, Beth."

"I bet…Well, the real reason I want you to ditch is because we've got a RAW in North Carolina on Monday, and I want you to come with me. I'm not scheduled for anything since they're having the 'prance of the pansies' number one contender match for my title. Maria versus Ashley. How stupid is that? So yeah, do you want to come and keep me company? I'll introduce you to some of the guys and maybe get you your ticket to the big time. You're better than this."

"Holy shit, you fucking Glamazon, I love you," Kylie smiled, slowly coming down from her high.

"There's one rule, Kylie. No drugs. Because like I said before, you're better than this."

"Okay, Beth. I think I can handle it for a couple of days," Kylie grinned, lying straight through her teeth.

A/N: RAW was sufficiently HORRIBLE.

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