A/N: I apologize for the lack of recent updates... the main reason is reviews. I'm not gonna withhold a chapter unless I get an estimated amount or anyting like that. They just make me so insecure. Say, If I have about 15 chapters of this story, and only 8 reviews. It drives me to hit the "delete story" option. It doesn't matter, and I'll get over it. Its the writing that builds the story, not the reviews! :D

Thank you to xHalosandwings, Caged Sparkle Black, Pinayprincesa, undermyumbrella, and SBMFanatic for reviewing the previous five chapters! & Thank you to the (surprisingly) large amount of people who added this story to alerts and favorites. Love ya. xx


Pure Intentions
Chapter Six: Morning After

Shawn groaned groggily as he attempted to lift his seemingly heavy body from his bed. It proved futile, and he quickly fell back onto the pillows, suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. "Ugh," he grumbled miserably, bringing his hands to his forehead and begining to gently massage his temples.

As expected, it helped soothe nothing what so ever.

He tried to sit up again, succeeding this time as he struggled to his feet, gripping the wall for support. Never had he experianced such a painful --

"Thats a hangover for you."

Hunter sat in the armchair seat of the makeshift living room, grinning towards his longtime friend with bemusement. He was obviously enjoying the older man's suffering more than he should.

HBK scowled and trudged into the bathroom and exiting it a few minutes later. Still as grumpy as before.

"It is not a hangover," Shawn growled and then flopped back into bed. Not bothering to adjust his rather uncomfortable pajama pants in which were almost down to his thighs. His buddy laughed. "Sure its not," He said sarcastically, rubbing his chin and using the remote to shut the muted televison off. "Why were you tossing back the drinks so much last night?" He asked, his tone transitioning from amusement to curiousity. Although the man was pretty sure he knew the reason why.

"I don't know exactly," came the Heartbreak Kid's answer, "I guess I just wanted more... fun."

He shoved his face into his pillow and reflected on last nights coarse of events. The last thing he remembered (before sitting down at the bar and forcing the bartender to pour him more whiskey) was seeing Violet dancing provacitively with Evan.

It might have just been the aftershocks of drinking too much, but a bit of bile rose in the man's throat as he imagined the scene. He swallowed it down replusively and focused on thinking about something else.

He couldn't, though. All he could see was Evan's hands grasping the young woman's every curve, pulling his body closer to hers, and what sickened him more was that fact that she had let him touch her in that way.

Well, it might've been because of the few shots she had consumed, but she was about half sober and aware of her actions nonetheless.

At first, Shawn thought of -and considered- the prospect of punching the highflier's lights out, but then the careless side of him kicked in. Violet was Chris' problem to deal with, he thought, so he'd leave Irvine to it.

That was then he dropped himself on a stool, interacted with the group of usual barflies, and absorbed too much alcohol, prompting his friend John Cena to drag his drunken self back to the hotel.

"Fun? It looked like you wanted to escape the bar somehow."

Feeling somewhat better (from the hangover, that is), Shawn was freed of his thoughts and glanced at Hunter, confused. "What do you mean?" He asked sitting up, temporarily blinded because of the bright light shining through the small window. Hunter must've drawn the curtains to help wake him.

"What I mean is, you weren't exactly the friendliest to Chris' sister, and her little date--"

"He wasn't her date," HBK stated quickly, convinced that he had only said so because it was the truth. But even if Evan was, what did it matter? He shouldn't be worried or concerned or be feeling anything else towards the girl. She wasn't more than one of his co-workers little sister.

Hunter eyed him suspiciously, but ignored Shawn's comment, choosing not to bug the man. He knew that if he started an agruement, there's no way there'd be an end.

At least not until Shawn had won. Which (given the chance) could take forever. He was very head strong, and very stubborn. Yet the man was as equally as wise and won verbal fights just as much as he did physical ones.

So yes, it was a good decision not to press on to the subject.

The Game cleared his throat, "So there's no hostility or jealously towards Evan? And there's no 'romantic'", he air-quoted the word and continued, "feelings towards Violet?"

Tired of asking himself the same question, Shawn shook his head no. "And I mean it." He confirmed, resisting the urge to cross his fingers.

Meanwhile, the girl was already up and energized, ready to start the new day. She had woken up and found that she had been relieved of a hangover, so she was slightly celebrating that fact as well.

She slid into a pair of dark jeans that hugged her legs perfectly and swiftly placed on a black t-shirt that read the name of one of her many favorite bands: Armchair Cynics. She (and her Canadian friends) had seen them live in concert in Victoria, B.C, Canada a couple summers ago, and ever since then she had been addicted to their music.

Violet smiled childishly as she plotted to throw a pillow on the sleeping figure of her brother. Whom was covered in blankets (and was scaringly still) for some strange reason. She quietly crept out from the seperating wall and walked over to the bed.

Something was up...

In one motion Chris Irvine jumped up and forward from the other side of the bed, causing his sister to shriek in surprise, almost falling backwards. He landed on the pile of sheets and smirked, pleased at his handywork. Violet sat on the floor, a steamingly upset and utterly angry mess. She crossed her arms and pouted.

"You suck!" She cried, frowning. He had disrupted her feeling of calmness. He briefly flashed her his tongue, acting like a kindergarten she was also pretending to be, and got up from the mattress.

"You know what I've just remembered?" Chris asks, wheeling around, the expression on his face: slight amazement.

Violet snaps away from her fake, kid-like attitude. "What?" She inquires, wondering whats got him so worked up.

"Its your birthday in a few more sleeps," He grins, pausing before walking out the room's door. Violet rolled her eyes. "Duh."

After a day of shopping with Chris, which proved to be a disaster, Violet gently tossed her bags aside and collapsed onto the bed. She was exhausted from walking from every mall in sight to another, and was tired of the complaints heard from her older sibling. Although, she didn't blame him, males were naturally repelled by the idea of shopping with their sister, and if she had to go through about a dozen tuxedo stores, she would be iritated as well.

Not a minute later, her cellphone rang, the chorus of The Strokes' "Reptillia" echoing around the room. Violet dug the device out from inside of her pocket, pressed the "answer" button and lifted it to her ear. "Hello?"

An unfamiliar voice chirped excitedly. "Hey!"

She has no idea of who is on the other end, but she asks who she's speaking to, making sure to sound polite.

"Oh, its Evan!" The cheery young man answers, sending a smile to her lips."What's up?"

"Nothing, really... but actually... I called to apologize."

"For what?"

"For how I handled you yesterday," He states, and she can somehow feel him flinch in shame. "I had no right to--"

Violet laughs and cuts his sentence short. "Its okay," She assures him, "You-We had a few drinks. Things happen."

A pause.

"I'm still sorry, drunken mishap and all." His voice is sincere and sweet, and she hears him swallow nervously. Even over the phone, she finds him cute. Violet can imagine him intwining his fingers and biting his lip. She saw him do all this the day before, and can still picture it vividly.

"I accept your apology, drunken mishap and all." She declares playfully.

He grins.

"But you had a good time last night, didn't you?" He inquires suddenly, his voice dropping at the last two words. Violet nods, and then realizes that she's on the phone and can't see her shaking her head.

"Of course," She affirms, taking strands of her strawberry blonde hair into her fingers and twirling them casually.

He slightly gains confidence from her comfirmation. "So I was wondering... If I'm not being too... eager, or straight forward... If you'd want to go out with me sometime. I mean, if your not busy or anything."

His invitation caught her off-guard, and she relapsed into images of the man who she foolishly believed she could stop thinking about. This moment brought an awkward silence, as Evan remained quiet, waiting for her answer.

"Its okay if you don't want to."

Violet broke out of the stream of contemplation instantly and nodded profusely. "I'd love to." she accepted, a little less enthusiastic than she was before. Did she say yes only because she thought it was the right thing to do? Or did she really want to see the highflier again?

Of course she did, she told herself, there's nothing else she'd rather be doing. Certainly, that was a lie.