Stormy Sky
I don't claim to own WWE or any of the wrestlers!
I knew I said that I wasn't gonna update this one any time soon, but I didn't mean to take this long to post something. Lol. I was without a computer and internet access for about a month and a half. The love of my life, (my laptop), just like went to hell and I had to get a new one. But I'm back and this was the first story where ideas started rampaging my thoughts.
About this chapter, it's basically explaining how they first met. I'm thinking the next chapter should flashback to OVW. What do you think?
I hope you enjoy it.
Ch. 2: Hi, I'm Sky…
Punk's POV
When I fell asleep last night, I fully expected Skylar to be gone by morning. But to my surprise, she was still in my lap, peacefully breathing on my neck. Okay, maybe she isn't as demonic as I had described. But that's just because she's asleep. And that is usually demonically charged, as well.
So this is a shocker for me. She sleeps like some kind of wild animal, or something. I caught her sleepwalking one night, and she literally had a knife in her hand. Can you say mentally disturbed?
But actually, right now, she's tolerable. It's so odd to see her quietly resting, being still and not slapping or kicking the hell out of me. I kinda want to get my phone out of my pants pocket to take a picture or record a little video of this. Cause I'm pretty sure I'll never see her this calm again.
And as drunk as she was last night, I'm pretty sure she'll be wondering what she's doing in here, with me. Speaking of last night, she apologized for what she did to me. And you know what, as I lay here, quite uncomfortably, I must add, I remember the nagging reality that I haven't apologized for what I did to her.
Skylar's POV
I woke up this morning with the usual hangover headache, eh, I'm used to it. The shocking thing though, I woke up in Punk's lap. Despite the fact that I forgot most of what happened last night, I'm pretty sure we didn't do anything, uh, 'un-moralistic' or whatever the hell he would call it.
To put it in words that I would understand, we didn't fuck. I know that for a fact. He's too pure for me. Well, I've corrupted my share of the pure, so strike that statement. Okay. I've got one, I'm too dirty for him.
So here's where the bewilderment starts. Why in the living hell am I all cuddled up with him in this damn hotel room?
But as much as I hate admitting this, I love his warmth on my body. I've missed that. Hope I didn't hit him last night. I sleep like a rabid beast, and it can get pretty painful for anyone else around.
My initial thought for this strange, yet very nostalgic predicament would have to be… he felt sorry for me and brought me up to his room to make himself feel better. Ugh, that's so him.
Fuck, I can't believe I actually halfway believed that this prick and I could coexist. Ugh, I'm so hating myself for even missing him.
"Fuck!" Ugh, my emotions got the best of me. I was pretending to be asleep for about ten minutes. Just thinking. Until my thoughts went to hell.
I sat up and quickly removed his arm that was wrapped around my waist. I really could care less if he was asleep.
He wasn't, unfortunately. There's nothing better than interrupting someone else from their sleep. "You okay Sky?" He asked. Great, another one of his little pity concerns. "Whatever. Why am in in here, with you?" I asked, crawling over him to get out of the bed.
"You don't remember?" He asked as he started to move his legs around. "I know we didn't fuck, that's for sure." I scoffed as I clumsily got on my knees to look for my shoes. "No, we didn't. But at least you tried, right?" He sarcastically chuckled.
I looked up at him and noticed the little smirk on his face. "Punk, what the hell are you talking about? Even in my drunken state, I wouldn't try anything with your prude ass." His sarcastic ass smirk grew even more wicked, like he was all knowing, or some shit like that. "Oh, really. The names, Philly and Punkin ring a bell to you?"
Whoa, I haven't heard that in a while. Almost forgot those. But really, come on. Why would I need to come on to him?
"This is confusing. My head's killing me and this isn't making any sense. I don't even remember what happened last night. I mean, I remember the bar, but after a few drinks and dancing with that Batista guy, the rest is a big black hole." I sighed.
"You see where drinking gets you?" He said. Seriously? Yeah, drinking gets me in a bed all cuddled up with Saint Punky Punk the asshole. "It's all coming back to me now, Punk. I was leaving with Dave. You came out like you're fucking Superman and 'saved me'." I scoffed. "You know, I figured you wouldn't appreciate that."
"Appreciate what? You so called pitying me so badly that you had to rescue me from some kind of mistake I was so about to make. Seriously? I know what I was doing. And I'm an adult. I have the right to sleep with anyone I want." Ugh, he's so annoying.
"I know that. But the guy you were about to leave with is a dick. And sor-ry for actually caring for your reckless ass enough to get you away from him." He yelled at me. Ugh, as mad as I am with him, his yelling at me always turns me on. But it doesn't distract me from the matter at hand.
"Punk, I'm not a walking charity. You think you're fooling me with that 'I care about you' shit? Please. My pervert of an uncle cares about me more than you do." I growled.
"I can't believe you just went there." He softly spoke, a little taken aback by my words. Actually, I cant believe I went there either. Talk about a low blow. "You really feel that way?" His voice struck a nerve in my head and I instantly remembered the events of last night.
Shit! I'm such a bitch. "Phil, no. I, I'm sorry. I just, ugh. You know I say shit that I don't mean. when you said that, all of last night came back to me. I'm sorry for that." I started chewing my bottom lip, another habit of mine, besides fidgeting like a maniac.
"Don't worry about it." He said as he got up. He ran his hand through his hair and headed toward the bathroom. "You should call Shelly. I'm sure she's wondering where you are. You don't want her to be worried." He gave me one last look and shut the door.
I can't believe what just happened. First off, what was I thinking, getting drunk my first night out being in the big leagues? Second off, what the hell was I thinking when I was with Dave? He's actually a nice guy, and I don't want him involved with the mess that is me.
Throwing myself on top of Punk and almost raping him is beyond me. I mean, what the hell? I promised myself long ago that I would never cross that line again. The line being anything sexual with Punk.
See, he and I have a long history. We go way back. But that's in the past. And we're in the present. And I need to analyze my bizarre ass actions. The most bizarre of them all being me actually crying. In front of him. That's just not me.
My phone rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Shelly. "Don't worry. I didn't go and get myself killed, Shell. Seems like I had a guardian angel on my side last night. Making sure I was safe." I quickly said into the phone. I know she was gonna go all 'where the hell did your ass go last night' and all that. "Ooh, I hate when you do that. Wait, guardian angel? Who?" She's all for the juicy details.
"Uh, well. It was, uh, Phil." I whispered. It's weird to be talking about someone when their just feet away from you. "What the hell? Are you two-"
"Hell no! No. No. Don't even go there. I was about to screw up, pretty bad last night. He stopped me and let me crash in his hotel room for the night. That's it." I reassured her. "Oh. Well what floor are you on?"
"I have no idea. I passed out in his car last night." I sighed. She laughed. "Girl, what am I gonna do with you?" Glad someone thinks this is amusing. "Help me figure out why I'm such a fuckup." I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I refuse to cry again. Crying is a sign of weakness, and Skylar Burton is not weak.
"Babe, you're not a fuckup. You just had a bad night. Look, I'm on the second floor. Room 243. We can talk."
"Fine." I said. My stomach started churning and bubbling like I had some kind of virus, but I know that feeling. I scurried up to the bathroom door and banged frantically.
He opened the door and moved aside. He knew where I was headed, too.
Punk's POV
As she pushed the toilet seat up, all kinds of memories came back to me. Many nights of this same scene. Before she threw her head into the bowl, I quickly gathered her hair to make sure it didn't land in there, too.
I hate that sound. One of the worst sounds ever. But I should be used to it. Once she stopped, hands still gripping the sides of the bowl and her face still in it, I heard her mutter something. "Thank you." She said.
I didn't let go of her hair because I knew that in a matter of seconds she was gonna be doing it again. Instead of responding with words, I leaned over her and started to rub small circles on her back. I used to do this when this would happen regularly.
When she did start again, besides that horrendous upchucking noise, I thought I heard her sob. When she finally finished, the sob noises were still in effect. "Sky, you okay?" I asked.
"No. My fucking head's in my ex-boyfriend's hotel room toilet bowl hurling out my goddamn lungs. No, I'm not okay." She growled. Okay, not only was that funny, but have you ever heard someone talk while their head is in a goddamn toilet bowl filled with puke? Pretty hilarious. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
She flushed the toilet and got up. She grabbed the free little mouthwash bottle, opened it, and poured the whole thing into her mouth. Oh no, go ahead and take it, I didn't want to use any. As soon as she spit it out, I was heading to the door. "Wait." She said.
I turned back to her to see that she was in fact sobbing a little. "What's wrong Sky?" I asked, still kinda amazed that she's actually crying. "Punk, I hate this." She sobbed as she plopped hard onto the tile floor of the bathroom. "Hate what?" I asked, taking a seat beside her on the cold floor.
"I'm so fucked up. I mean, I screw up everything. I don't even know how I ended up getting a contract with these guys. I already know that I'm gonna fuck it up. I fuck everything up, Punk. I always do." She sobbed.
This is what melts me. She's always this badass, punk dressing, metalhead that fights hard and parties harder on the outside. But once you get through all the exterior, she's this extremely vulnerable lost soul. That's one of the things I love, uh, loved about her.
"You don't fuck everything up, Sky. And you got a contract because you're truly talented. Remember you first week of high school?"
"Yeah, but how the hell do you remember it? Seniors didn't really hang with the freshies back then. Unless, you know, they're trying to get some hot young virgin ass." She was trying to be sarcastic, but neither one of us could hold in laughs. The way she said it was just epic.
But seriously, how could I forget? That was the first time I had seen her.
Flashback
I was chilling on break with a few of my buds, reading a few comics and catching up on the new gossip of 'who's screwing who' when she caught my eye.
Not too tall, but not too short either. I'd say about 5'7. Beautiful. Perfectly proportioned. And I swear she has the most delicious D cups ever. Her back length hair was brunette with blonde bangs and a few pink and red highlights. She had piercings, too. One on her right eyebrow, a small one on her nose, two on either side of her bottom lip, about six on each ear, and an awesome red skull one on her bellybutton. I noticed the bellybutton on account of her black little midriff top. God, those are hot.
"Hey, man. Who's she? She transfer here or something?" I asked one of my buds, nicknamed Jug. "Yeah, dude. She's freshmeat. Hot little number, isn't she?" He grinned as he eyed her. "You want you a piece of that, don't you bro?" Another one of my friends laughed and gave me a nudge.
"Hey man, you know Phil's not like that. He's a good guy." Jug laughed. I ignored the two as I watched her walk over to a tree where she sat down and pulled out a sketchpad and a pencil. She's artistic. I'm already falling for her.
As she sat by herself, earphones that connected to her portable cd player up to her ears, drawing her little heart out, I noticed a girl walk up to her. That girl was none other than Tessa Gould, the popular, snobbish, skanky, airhead that ran the school. The only way that dumbass made it to the twelfth grade was to bribe the teachers, or so I've heard. Her two little lackeys, Lana and Kate were elsewhere, doing the bidding for their leader.
"I'm Tessa, cheer captain, three time homecoming queen; soon to be four, and I'm also running for this year's prom queen." She smiled and extended her hand out, expecting the girl to shake it. Instead, she ignored it and continued drawing.
"I'm Skylar." She stated blandly, never looking up from her lap. Tessa frowned and placed her hand on her hip. "Well, just a little about me, I'm super excited to have you at our school. And I've taken it upon myself to help you out around here. This school can be pretty scary sometimes. Oh and in a few weeks, I'm heading out to the Big Apple for a movie audition, so you'll have to get by without me for a week. But don't worry, I'll-"
I'm so glad she cut her off. I swear Tessa is the most conceited snob in the world. "Thanks, but no thanks." Skylar said, still deeply in her artwork. Tessa's face turned red. I knew she was a little upset that Skylar wasn't excited to be in her presence.
"Um, well Skylar, I'm just gonna put it like this, okay. I run this school, and before you do anything at this school, you basically have to run it by me first. You know, stuff like guys who you can and can't date, clothing that is inappropriate. You know, stuff like that." Tessa smiled.
That got her to look up. Her green eyes were gorgeous. She smiled back at Tessa and calmly closed her sketchpad and put it and her pencil in her book sack. "Tessa, isn't it?" She said with a vicious tone in her voice as she stood up to look her in the face.
"Little girl, don't waste your energy. Touch me, and you'll be out of here faster than the two seconds it took you to plan that hideous outfit." Tessa laughed and flipped her hair. "Who said anything about touching you? Trust me, you'd have to be mildly retarded or just dumb to want to touch you. And about your little rules, I don't think so. I answer to myself. And I don't need your permission to do a damn thing. Have a nice day." She picked up her book bag, put it on her back, and left.
After about two weeks, I had gotten some info on the new girl. She had just moved here from California. Her dad was some big-time lawyer and he moved his firm here to Chi-Town. Chick's pretty smart, too. She was able to skip the ninth grade on account of her high test scores. She's in a few of my classes now.
I haven't gotten a chance to introduce myself to her, but I'm planning on changing that at break today. I've built up the nerve to approach her. But wait, I'm the Senior. She should be the one nervous to talk to me, right?
"Hey man, there's your chance." Jug nudged me when he spotted her walking to that tree that she's claimed as her own little hideout. I was taking my time approaching her. I'm nervous.
But before I could get to her, the school's star football player made his way up to her. He annoys the hell out of me. And surprisingly, he wasn't dating the head cheerleader, Tessa.
I stood behind another tree, out of sight so I could listen in. He tried his corny ass pickup lines to no avail, which I have to say is very funny. Ian never gets rejected. She let him off nicely and he sulked away. I was thinking that I had no shot at her until Tessa and her two followers walked over to her right after Ian had left.
"Rule number one, weirdo. Ian Powell is off limits." Tessa exclaimed. "Don't worry Barbie, I don't want Ken. He's so not my type." She sarcastically said as she got two books out of her backpack. "Yeah, probably because her type is the punk, pierced, and tattooed crew." Lana giggled and pointed to my friends across the campus.
"Yeah, they do look pretty cool." Skylar smiled. "Oh no. I like you right where you are. Right under this tree, alone. Where no one can see you hideousness." Tessa laughed.
"The modeling agency I used to work for would beg to differ." Skylar replied, not taking her head out of one of the books she had taken out.
She should've looked up, because Tessa's face was hilarious. "Model? Yeah right. Not only are you a fugly goth, you're also a liar." She smirked. "There's still a few billboards up in New York for Calvin Klein. Look for them when you go." Skylar said, closing her book and placing the both of them back in her backpack before getting up.
"Oh, and if you hit the stores and you go to Blue Sky, be sure to tell the woman with the glasses you know me. You'll get a discount." She said before she started walking away. "Wait. Blue Sky? As in the store where all the fashionistas shop?" Kate gasped. "Yeah. It's my mom's store." Skylar nonchalantly said.
"Wait, so that would make you Kerrigan Burton's daughter?" Tessa frowned. "Yeah. It's not the first thing I tell people when I meet them, you know. I don't want the attention." She rolled her eyes and started to walk away again. This time, leaving Tessa speechless.
By now, I had taken a seat on the grass under the tree. Jug had given me a new comic to read and I was pretty eager to read it. It's a Chucky comic. You know, the doll from the Child's Play movies. He's awesome.
I've made up my mind to not even try anything with her. I mean, yeah she seems cool but nah.
I was really into this book when someone tapped me on my shoulder. I didn't even notice anyone standing beside me. When I looked up, I swear my heart skipped a few beats. "Hi, I'm Sky." She smiled at me.
I smiled back. "I'm Phil." I replied, keeping my cool. "Where'd you get that?" She asked, pointing to the comic book. "Oh, this. My friend bought it for me. He said it was brand new." I feel like a nerd talking about comics in front of her.
"Wow. That must be a new one. I absolutely love Chucky, so I have just about all of the comics involving him. I'm a nerd." She chuckled. "Whoa. You're into comics?" I was pretty amazed. "No. Just the Chucky ones. But if I'm not drawing, I pick up a few and read." She said, taking a seat beside me.
"You don't mind if I read with you, do you?" She smiled sweetly. "Not at all." I smiled back and scooted closer to her.
Punk's POV
Yeah. That's my first memories of Sky. A long shot from what she's like now. And I can't believe I was so scared to approach her.
She and her mom don't talk anymore. Her mom still lives in New York. Her dad and her had a falling out after she left Stanford University after her second year. She modeled for a little while until she got into wrestling.
"I remember. I didn't know you heard all that." She sighed. Her tears had stopped when I was re-telling our past. "Yeah. And when she saw those billboards in NY, she had that awesome panic attack that kept her home for like two weeks." I chuckled, making her do so too.
"That was fun. We were so badass that year." She said as she started fidgeting with her hands. "Yeah. Sometimes, I wish we could go back to that year." I sighed. Me and her were inseparable that year. We were just best friends, despite what everyone said.
When I brought her to prom, that sent everyone into overdrive with their rumors.
Only Tessa, her lackeys, and I knew of her 'fame', so she was pretty much an outcast like me and my crew. And we liked it like that.
They called us The Metallipunks. On account of our punk rock looks and music tastes, besides Sky. She was all punk on the outside, but was all metal on the inside. The metal being Metallica. We were the comic geeks, too. Sky wasn't an avid reader like the rest of us, but she read occasionally. But if there was anything Chucky related, she was all eyes and ears.
Skylar is the only person I know who is obsessed with that little killer doll. I mean she has like four Chucky dolls, almost all of the comics that people have made with him in it. All of the movies. When we used to date, she used to sleep with one every night. I bet she still carries one in her travel bag. That's one of the strange things that attracted me to her. It's kinda cute.
"You're not the only one. You know, after you graduated, everything went to hell. That's when it started, Punk." She spoke, snapping me out of my thoughts. "When all what started?" I asked.
"I started drinking when I was in eleventh grade. Being the smartest, youngest, and weirdest in a higher grade will do that to you." She closed her eyes as if she was trying to hold back tears.
See, after school was out that year, she left and went to New York. I didn't hear from her that whole summer.
When she came back to Chicago, I was kinda pissed. We got into some petty argument about not keeping in touch. And she said something along the lines of 'she wasn't my girlfriend and she didn't need to check up with me'.
That kinda struck a nerve with me, on account of me having a crush on this chick for a whole year and a half. I said something back to her like 'I could are less where you go and what you do. And since it's such a hassle to call someone and let them know you're alive, don't bother calling me anymore'. Like I said, it was petty and stupid. We were young, what can I say?
After that argument, I didn't see her in person again until 2004. Add it up, when we had that argument, it was sometime in August of 1997.
"Then college was way worse. Although the frat parties were kickass." She softly chuckled. "Kickass because of the booze and pills, right?" I scoffed. Dammit. I couldn't help myself. I have a habit of saying things like that to her.
"See. See, that's why I treat you the way I do. Because of that superiority complex that you have. Just because you don't drink or do any kinds of drugs. Because you fucking drink Pepsi. Pepsi tastes like shit anyway." She growled and angrily got up, using my head to steady herself.
"I'm not like that, Skylar." I said to her before she left the bathroom. "The hell you're not. You constantly belittle me. Say things about me being an addict." She was standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
"I say the things I say to you because I care. If the shit I say to you bothers you that much, it's probably because you believe it too." She gave me one of her signature scowls and grabbed her shoes.
"Thanks, Dr. Phil. You really are a piece of work." She growled and left the room, shoes in hand. I guess she wanted to get away from me that bad. But seriously, if she got that upset over that, then I hit a soft spot.
Maybe she's not a lost cause.