Chapter Two: "Taking Over Me"

Author's Note: Thanks to Heel Princess, Ashleymassarophan1, Ilyse, TJ Sparkles, Christal-R, spinning in colors., SweetNJuicyx0 and xSomeKindaRush for reviewing the last chapter. Twilight and Taking over Me (by Amy Lee) helped me out with some ideas for this chappy.

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I believe in you
I'll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you
To live, to breathe
You're taking over me

'Though the thoughts of her father that she had left behind still flooded her mind, Mickie still managed to bring herself to the place she needed to be. Unfortunately, she had been a few too many minutes late – the showing of her fellow Superstars and the familiar face of Candice Michelle already seated at a table let her know this. Even still, Mickie continued to move at a quick pace, as she pushed herself past security.

The fan signing had been located outside this time around, there had been two long tables set out – one table had been filled with Legacy's Ted Dibiase and Cody Rhodes with Candice Michelle seated in the middle, this had been the table Mickie soon approached.

"Here!" Practically breathless, Mickie announced as she stopped in front of Candice's table – the fans hadn't yet been allowed to approach the superstars and divas for autographs, so Mickie was lucky enough to get at least a word or two with Candice. She threw her hands in the air as if to show off a 'Ta-da' showy way. Of course this had all been sarcasm; Mickie knew she hadn't even needed to remind Candice that it was just 'great' to know of the schedule change at the very last minute.

A small smile wrapped around the lips of Candice before it eventually broke out into a short giggle. "So, I see," the candy-coated diva began, "glad that you got my text."

The petite diva nodded before slowly pulling off her jacket from her skin whilst also making her way around the long table, when she reached the standing spot behind Candice, she had noted that there was no fourth chair (which had been much of what she was expecting). Her plucked eyebrow rose upward. "Um, did you get one of these two to hold my seat for me or something?" Unsurely, Mickie asked – it had been what only made sense to her, if Candice was seated at this table then shouldn't she be seated with Candice as well?

The dark haired diva turned around to face Mickie, showing a small, sympathetic frown on her face. "Sorry Micks," had been what Candice begun with – immediately causing a slightly worried reaction from Mickie, "…they assigned us these seats this time around." Candice shrugged her shoulders; she had heard word about this earlier and had enough time to be disappointed about it all, leaving her to not be able to show much more emotion about the new change. She just grew to tolerate the new change for this fan signing.

Mickie clinged onto her jacket in her arms. "..Well, that sucks," under her breathe, she muttered to not so much anyone in particular – only something needed to get off her chest. She rolled her eyes, "Alright, fine, whatever. If I'm not sitting at your table, then where exactly am I sitting?"

Instantly, Candice released a short chuckle from her lips.

Candice's poked out one of her fingers and pointed off to a direction not so far from their table – it had been another table consisting of two other superstars. "Over there," Candice directed her.

After being told, Mickie drifted her eyes off to the same direction she had been informed about only to find the likes of ECW's Evan Bourne. He had been the returning superstar and many fans had been awaiting his return. This made sense to why he was at the fan signing. But it hadn't been Evan sitting at the table that caused the petite diva to become numb. "…That table? Are you sure I'm sitting at that table?"

"Yes, of course. What other table would you be sitting at? There is only but two tables."

Yes, the words of Candice had actually made perfect sense to Mickie. But the fact remained that her question was just rhetorical. It didn't need much of an answer. The diva was neither blind nor confused – she clearly seen there was two tables and one table was full while the other had one empty chair still sat out – Mickie was just unwilling to sit there, of all places.

"What're you complaining for anyways?" The dark haired Candice Michelle then gestured toward Mickie to lean down a bit – and so Mickie did – before she began quietly whispering in her ear, "You see that? Evan is sitting over there." She said his name as if he was the gift to Sports Entertainment and the grin that soon appeared on her lips assured that perhaps she did believe that.

Mickie distant herself away from the conversation with thoughts flooding her mind – Evan isn't the only guy sitting there, Candice. And, Mickie's thought had been right. There was a tall, tanned figure sitting on the far end of the table. Yes, his head had been down and he seemed to be just as distant from everything around him as Mickie now was with Candice…but did Candice really not notice him? To Mickie, he had the presence of just making himself known first.

"Ugh. I probably don't even have a chance with a guy like him 'though, right?"

Mickie then drifted back to reality, and reality had been Candice still gawking over the returning ECW superstar – Mickie released a small chuckle, as coolly as she could. She barely held onto the meaning of the conversation but she still could grasp on to a good estimation of what Candice was speaking about. "Uh, yeah," Mickie answered before pausing, "Well, I'm going to head off to my table."

'Though those words surprised her – shocked to see she was now suddenly so willingly wanting to go over to her table (perhaps Candice's babbling had something to do with that) – Mickie still waved toward Candice and slowly made her way toward her table. She first past Evan Bourne. He had been sitting on the nearer side of the table, he greeted her with a friendly wave and instinctively, she waved back to him.

But a sigh escaped her lips as she tried her best to make it to the empty seat nearby her without him noticing her. Though as he dodged his head up – she wondered if even just her muttered sigh was loud enough for him to hear her coming. Just as he had so quickly glanced at her back at the café, he had done the same here.

She wondered how he knew so well when someone was so nearby. As if he had animalistic instincts.

The feel of his icy blue eyes burning her down, almost caused the diva to freeze. And, so she'd admit that she did pause for a few moments when her dark-brown eyes had met his icy blue colored ones – though she did just as quickly continued walking forward and took a seat into her chair.

She placed her jacket on top of the table, leaving it to sit right in front of her before she crossed her arms and then leaned them on top of the table, as well. She wanted to try her best to shift off into a comfortable mind of state, but how could she? Minutes that passed by felt like hours – the feeling of misery had been all she had felt as she counted down the minutes until the fan signing would officially begin; it always felt like security had made the fans wait hours as if to anticipate them.

Or perhaps just to torture her, more today than ever.

…More minutes passed and it became quite easy for Mickie to learn when and as well as when not Randy had been staring toward her – it was as if a long, cold breeze would blow against her skin every time he had glared in her direction and then once he'd look away, it suddenly (to her) would begin to feel much more warmer. Though sitting here, she almost learned what bothered her most was Randy far from intimidated by her. He hadn't been as fearful to stare at her as she often was to stare at him. He could glare at her for hours – and to her, it was feeling like he was doing just that – only him attempting to purposely make this awkward for her

.

He had no reason to hide the fact that he was staring at her. She didn't intimidate him and he knew of that.

Mickie could already hear the voices of her fellow diva friends if she was to tell them about his staring at her. They would insist that the reason behind him staring at her had been just to intimidate her, prove a point. But she doubted that. To her, she felt that this all was beyond past trying to intimidate her like he had done with others.

But she had to admit, for hours she was feeling much like his prey. Inside, she was trying to build up enough courage to just turn and face him…but, she only worried about what would happen next, if she did so. Their eyes would meet and then what would be next? She only felt she was better continuing to "ignore" it. Pretending that she hadn't known that he was staring in her direction and hoping this signing would eventually come an end, very soon.

"Mickiiiiiiiieeeeee!"

The sounding of her name being used drifted Mickie away from the thoughts of the man sitting beside her. She now focused on a tiny girl running toward the table with her mother following shortly behind her. It seemed as if she was trying her best to try and control the girl, and reason with her to slow down. But there seemed to be no reasoning as the small girl only ran with more and more force toward Mickie.

Judging by the pigtails and overalls, Mickie guessed that the girl had only been about four years old and it pleased Mickie to see little girls into WWE at such a young age and what flattered her more had been when they seemed to be fans of her. The small girl soon approached the table, causing a smile to appear on Mickie's lips and a grin on the small girl's face. "Hi there," in a sweet voice, Mickie greeted her.

The small girl raised up a recent picture of Mickie James above her head as she stood on her tippy-toes, trying to see over the large table that seemed to be bigger than the very small girl. "…can you sign this for me, pretty please?"

Mickie instantly giggled toward the girl's adorable approach. "Of course," came Mickie's reply as she kindly grabbed the photograph from the little girl and sat it in front of as she pulled out a pen and worked on her infamous signature – the eyes of Randy Orton hadn't been watching her anymore. His eyes instead had been pointed down toward the table.

It shocked him how a little girl like that could be so dedicated to just one person – it almost tore him down, wondering where his loyal fans were? He was at a fan signing, yet he was feeling more than lonely. Fans had come and gone from there table and the majority had brought gifts and pictures to sign for just Evan and Mickie. He could count the number of fans that came to see him on just one hand.

"Hey man, could you sign this?"

The voice was too close to him. He lifted his head up and much to his surprise stood a fan in front of him – he sighed, reluctantly. It's about time, he thought to himself. He wondered, how could the fans not want his signature? Just as he wanted to remain this satisfied, he noticed the fan wearing a familiar looking shirt. The logo, the words…it was a John Cena shirt.

Mickie had fans that were loyal and dedicated to her, while he was getting John Cena's fans? He could only mutter a swear underneath his breathe – something along the lines of him never doing another fan signing again. This was beyond ruining his early evening. He grabbed the photo from the fan and quickly scribbled his name on a corner and passed it back to the fan. As he watched the fan walk away, he only glared down at his now folded hands sitting on the table.

What's wrong with me that I can't have many loyal fans?

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What felt like a day of labor filled with red, blistered fingers and hand cramps had eventually came to an end of the six mixes of both divas and superstars. The area had been cleared away and the crew members had been sweeping away the mess that the fans had left behind. The short brunette had been the only one left at her table still. She had been checking the messages left on her cell phone – she always turned off her cell phone during fan signings to rid of any distractions when she was with the fans – Randy Orton had been standing near a jet plane with Ted and Cody. Evan had been already seated on the jet and Candice had been speaking with a few of the crew members.

Though none of this came as a shock to Mickie. She was now more glad than ever just to get back home as she prepared to dial a familiar set of numbers for a cab to pick her up from the area and take her back to Richmond, though before she could do so…she was soon approached by Candice.

"Hey, Mickie," quietly, Candice said, with a flustered expression on her face – Candice (like many others) was never good at these fan signings. Her fans were so loyal and always spent hours telling her how much of an inspiration she was to them, not to mention the million of photographs that just each one fan brought up to her at a time. Though Candice really was glad she connected with some of the WWE viewers, it was much better than none.

"Oh, hey Candice," came Mickie's soft-toned retort back as she closed the cover of her cell phone for just a moment and directed her attention toward Candice.

"Have you heard word, yet?"

The plucked brow of Mickie rose. "…Heard word of what?"

Candice cupped her hands on her hips. "About the upcoming house show."

Mickie shrugged her shoulders, "Yes, the one that none of our names was booked for this weekend, right?"

A sigh escaped from Candice's lips. "That's what I thought. Turns out they're dropping another bomb on us today – I just finished talking to some of the Crew members and we're all now booked for that house show. They're actually shipping us off to Seattle right now."

"What?" Her short word came from an instinctive reaction of disbelief.

"Its okay, Mickie. I know you're tired like the rest of us but the house show isn't until tomorrow. That will gives us plenty of time to sleep on the jet." Her words of reassurance were followed by Candice wrapping an arm around the shoulder of the petite diva.

"You don't understand Candice," Mickie began as she glared up toward the diva who slightly towered over her, "I have to go back to Richmond to meet up with my dad. He's expecting me to be back there!" Her dad was the only thing on her mind since this fan signing had begun. Well, perhaps there were other things – a certain Legend Killer to thank for – but her dad was the main thought, or so she told herself.

Candice bit into her lower lip. "…Geez, I'm sorry Micks." That had been all Candice really could say, feeling quite sympathetic for the diva not being able to spend the weekend with her dad – Candice perfectly remembered how much Mickie had been grateful that she was able to spend her weekend in her hometown with her dad, she planned it all out perfectly.

Instantly, Mickie shook her head. "I…I can't let him down," strongly, she said – she hadn't wanted to do that, not again. It had already been hard enough calling out of their breakfast together earlier; him finding out that she wouldn't be heading back to Richmond would only destroy him entirely.

"You kind of…don't have any other choice, you know?" The words hadn't come as harsh of a hit to Mickie as it did when Candice began walking away. Yes, the soft pat on her back that Candice had given her did help soften the blow but Mickie just couldn't understand how Candice could expect her to just hop onto that jet and head to Seattle?

But who was the petite diva honestly fooling? Did she have much of a choice? Refusing to go would only cause a bad rep for her when she entered the Raw Arena. She could expect an immediate de-push (becoming the new Raw resident jobber) and then eventually be released, or tortured more by watching other girls with half her talent win matches and titles that she knew she more than deserve.

She loved this business and those were the things she needed to remember during bitter times as this.

"Are you coming, Mickie?"

The voice being directed from her had been of Candice. She had been standing on the steps of the jet, looking back toward the petite diva. There were no other superstars in sight – not even Randy – leaving Mickie to believe they all must have boarded the jet by now.

"Um, yeah," Mickie managed to answer back. "I-I just have to grab my coat. I'll be there in a sec." Her assurance to the Candy-coated diva was enough to send Candice Michelle walking the rest of the way up the short staircase before she boarded the jet and took her set. A sigh fell from Mickie's lips as she looked down at her cell phone that was tightly held in her hands.

She knew that she should probably call her dad, now. Just get the pain over with and let him know the truth – that was she knew that at least his hopes of her coming back home wouldn't still be up. But she just couldn't do it. She didn't have enough courage to call him, yet.

Mickie shook her head and grabbed her coat, rushing to board the jet.

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What felt like an eternity on the plane had been in reality a half hour passed by. She had been seated next to Candice, this time around. Her knees had been pushed into her chest as she stared forward to the back of the seat in front of her – not that anyone had been sitting in the seat, Candice had picked out their seats and it had been toward the front of the jet. 'Surprisingly' a seat across from Evan's seat (where he had sat alone).

All the seats had been stacked up like it would on an airplane, so Mickie could barely get a glimpse of who was sitting behind her.

Instantly, Mickie felt a sudden surprise of Candice elbowing her in her side. As Mickie drifted her eyes toward Candice, she noted Candice removing an earpiece from her ear and holding it out to Mickie as she offered it to her but Mickie only shook her head.

"No, thanks," Mickie replied, "in fact, I'm actually going to go snag a magazine. Be right back." Mickie then instantly rose from her seat, whipping off the back of her jeans (as if there had been anything there) and made her way out toward the back of the jet.

Honestly, Mickie knew she could care less for a magazine or whatever it was that she had lied to Candice about. She couldn't even remember it. She only knew that her curiosity had taken over her. She had just wanted to see other faces than just Candice's and Evan's. And soon enough, she had done so. She passed a seat toward the back of the jet plane – it had only consisted of Ted and Cody. By the cold glare they threw toward her, Mickie estimated that the two were perhaps scheming some ideas of how they would walk out with a victory for their house show match.

Then again Mickie wondered if their loud chattering was really the best idea being that it was rumored they would be facing Evan Bourne and Rey Mysterio – though Mickie just shook off the thoughts about the two and continued walking. She passed by a few more seats, all had been empty.

Mickie sighed, coming to a decision to leave her opinions of all these empty seats (and one superstar in particular missing) alone as she soon approached a small back table in the back of the jet. Magazine booklets had been scattered across the wooden table for the superstars and divas pleasing.

Quickly, she scurried her fingers across the table. But much to her surprise, she felt a familiar cold breeze brush against her skin. She only doubted it to be who she estimated it was. She knew that it couldn't be him. She hadn't seem him earlier when she was skimming the seats and her best guess was he refused to go to the house show and probably would deal with his consequences later. He already wasn't on too good sides with the McMahons. What else did he have to lose now?

Mickie moved her fingers more quickly as the breeze became colder and colder. She tried her best to concentrate on the magazines laid out for her choosing and finally she was able to catch interest in one magazine booklet that luckily had been near her reach and she now more than ever just had the desire to get what was needed and head back to her seat as she could still feel the cold presence even with her back turned and she didn't like it.

She launched her arm out toward the magazine, her hand floating over top of the magazine just before a large weight of a heavier hand collapsed on top of hers – causing both hands to fall flatly on top of the magazine.

Her eyes dared to drift up toward the figure responsible for its hand now on top of hers. As her eyes rose up toward a towering figure, it was much to who she expected. A blue eyed Randy Orton had glared down toward her.

She wondered if they both shared the same surprise of them simultaneously reaching out for the same magazine at the same time. With so many other magazines on the table left for choosing, he had reached out for the same one as she did. And no, it hadn't crossed her mind that she actually may've shared the same taste as him – or at least as far as magazines were concerned – she more so was just intrigued by the fact that his hand was over top of hers, the same guy who had been treating her coldly the majority of her day.

Her eyes widened as she drifted back to her sense of feel and instantly felt a bitter, painful feel of his hand. It shocked her. "Your hands…they're really…cold," she stammered through her words as she brought her eyes away from the magazine booklet that was underneath both their hands and met the icy blue eyes that stared down on her. The bitter cold touch of his hand still remained on top of hers, leaving her to feel the warmness of her hands being dominated by the cold touch of his.

Though the curiosity of his cold touch left her without a care of how quickly the warmness of her hands was fading. Though he soon ended what was interesting for the diva as he drew his hand away from her, instantly. He took a peek toward the magazine - leaving the diva to wonder if he was glaring at the magazine or her hand that still laid on top of it - but once she drew her hand away also, she noticed his eyes still hadn't left the magazine booklet.

Shortly, he then headed back to his seat, leaving the magazine (that he previously wanted) flat on the table.

She bit on her bottom lip, wearing a face that showed a dominant state of confusion. She was so unsure of what she had just seen…of what she had just felt from the man who was Randy Orton. Even with his hand now away from hers, she could still feel the coldness of his touch glued to her skin but it soon faded away with the warmness of her skin eventually taking back its place.

Sighing – despite how breathless she now was – she grabbed a hold of the magazine. With counting, this had been the third awkward encounter she had with him and she stood without a reason to why this kept occurring to her, of all people. She then, as she attempted to erase these thoughts, rushed her way through the empty aisle. Passing by many seats and this time, she actually noticed where Randy's seat at been. At the corner of her eye, she saw him in one of the few last seats (surprisingly, by himself and away from the duo of Ted and Cody) his fingers had been harshly pressing against his the skin on his palms (as if he was searching for the same cold touch she had felt) his eyes had been directed forward to the back of the seat in front of him, but as Mickie made her way pass his seat – she could feel the pressure of his eyes burning a whole through her back once it faced him

But she far from cared about that.

She was sick of drawing herself into a guy who only made her believe today he had wanted nothing to do without her – though she did hate sounding like some sick, sad love teenager but she was only deeply confused by this, was all. How could you blame her? She had been treated as if she had hurt someone he deeply cared about; as if she had done something that he was holding a grudge against her for.

Though the thing had been that she hadn't done anything to him, she barely knew him.

But she wouldn't let her thoughts lead her to feeling as if he had hated her. She actually felt like he hadn't hated her – and surely she hadn't hated him in return – but it still remained, he had given her unsaid reasons for her to believe that he wasn't her biggest fan, either. And that was enough to leave the diva wanting to figure out why.

Soon enough, she approached what previously was her and Candice's seat though she now noticed a dark haired male figure leaning over Candice. His arm had been tightly wrapped around her shoulder as the raven haired diva only giggled with her hands covering over her mouth. The two seemed to only continue this before one of the two (Evan) had peeked up feeling the presence of someone behind him.

He noticed the petite Diva standing over top of them, immediately putting an end to the attention he was feeding to Candice.

"Hey…Evan?" Unsurely, Mickie said when she noticed the very familiar face of the newly returned ECW superstar sitting next to Candice – the thoughts of what Candice had told her earlier had drowned out with the thoughts of Randy Orton now flooding her mind.

"Hey Mickie," a smile wrapped on his charming face, "Sorry about that. Here, you can have your seat back." Evan then stood up to his feet only to be pulled back down by the harsh grip of Candice's palms wrapped around his forearm. "…What?" he muttered underneath his breathe to the raven haired Diva sitting beside him.

The desperate look on Candice's face of wanting Evan to stay reminded Mickie of all she had told her earlier as she gestured a very fake smile. "Um, actually it's okay." The words that the diva said brought a pair of surprising glares from both Evan and soon Candice, as well. "…I have to make a phone call to my dad anyway and I guess it would be better if I was alone, you know?"

She wasn't sure what she was saying though it seemed to fly past Evan anyway as he instantly thanked her and she only replied back with a sweet nod and then made her way to the seat across from the two where Evan previously had been sitting.

The petite diva collapsed into the seat before curling her legs up to her chest. The horrible part of sitting in this seat had been that Candice and Evan were only a seat across from her, leaving her to still hear the constant giggling from Candice and the lame jokes that Evan told her – was either one of the two really buying it? Candice laugh had bleed fakeness and those poor excuses of jokes Evan sold were far from entertaining to anyone on the jet.

As she crashed her knees farther into her chest, Mickie wondered how Candice could be so blind when she was in "love" (or whatever those Divas called it when they were head over heels for the so called "right" guy). The petite Diva never could see herself going there. Going to a place where she'd look as lovesick as Candice was at the moment.

She tossed the magazine to the seat beside her as she leaned her forehead against the window and just studied the sights. She remembered of the many things she left back in Virginia at her dad's place. There were her iPod and all of her bags, though she knew she'd have to manage without it. The most importantly thing she left behind of course had been her dad. She glared out of the window, finding entertainment in just how small everything was from where she sat – but the realization of her leaving Virginia had been tearing her apart.

Glancing away from the window, a thought scattered across her mind (surprisingly not one about her father). It had been just a wonder inside the diva's mind to if he had still been there. Yes, perhaps the thought of him was probably unhealthy and useless but the temptation of just wanting to know was ripping at her insides and she knew how well she remembered the exact spot his seat was: two seats away from the last seat on the right. It had been the same row as her new seat.

Slowly, Mickie rose up from her seat and then stood on her knees on top of the seat. She peeked over her seat (attempting to make herself not so obvious) as she then skimmed the jet – though she couldn't seem to spot his head anywhere. The feeling of not finding the self proclaimed legend killer was familiar, but it still frustrated her just the same. She stood up a bit higher on her knees to get a better view of the jet before her perfectly plucked brow furrowed. "…Where the hell are you?" Under her breathe, she muttered. Surprisingly, fine with saying her thoughts out loud as if an answer would soon be called back to her.

"You done with this?"

A deep (familiar) voice startled her instantly before then causing the petite diva to crash down back into her seat. She fell from her knees to her bottom before feeling her head harshly hitting against the window and her light-brown colored hair to fall over her eyes. Pushing away her light bangs – her vision returned back to her, leaving the figure in front of her to become very clear. Her fingers held onto the beginnings of her hair as she sighed in slight disbelief. "Randy…" she whispered quietly to herself, confirming to herself the name of the figure.

Tightly held in his hand had been the magazine that had caused their encounter not too long ago. The impatient expression on his face showed him waiting approval of being able to take the magazine and then be on his way. She could only guess he had not wanted much of a conversation.

"Are you done with this, or what?"

His voice was sharper than she expected it to be. She tried to ignore it, however. But why should she? Was she not use to it? He had been treating her awkwardly the entire evening and now she was being given a very cold treatment for no sensible reason at all.

"Mhm," quietly, she answered back – her words couldn't even be heard by him. Instead, it was her nod of assurance that let him know he could take it. She watched him as he glanced down at the magazine then back at her. Those ice blue eyes had met her brown ones, again. She felt like both their eyes could probably use a break from burning down each other. His burning hers down more than hers ever could do his – it shocked her how powerful they were, his eyes and strong glare.

She watched him soon turn away from her, from what she could guess, he was heading back to his seat. "You know," her soft voice began before finding a somewhat larger gain of volume in her tone, "it's not safe to stand on airplanes. Or jets, I guess I should say."

A chuckle escaped from his lips – a genuine chuckle which had been the warmest reaction she had received from him the entire evening – as he glimpsed over his shoulder to meet eyes with the diva. "I think I'll live," he assured her, surprisingly he had not rolled his eyes or did anything rude as she estimated he would – he only instead just ended his glare with her and turned to head back to his seat.

This left the petite Diva repeating his words in her head. It shocked her the "huge deal" it was that he had actually spoken to her. The way she had been treated by him the entire day proved that this was indeed a huge deal. It had not been much and she wouldn't expect for a friendship to unravel just days after – but perhaps she could look forward to him not walking off on her when she tried to have a conversation with him. The hidden pieces of the puzzle of Randy Orton were taking over her, causing her to need to know more.

She curled her legs back up to her chest and leaned her head against the window as her eyes slowly closed.

I believe in you
I'll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you
To live, to breathe
You're taking over me

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So, there's Chapter Two; felt like it was a pretty long one but I just wanted to get these two scene ideas I had stuck in my head out of the way so I can focus more on Mindy now by Chapter Three. As for Chapter three (sneak preview): John was her former flame. He wanted a place back in Mickie's life. She began wanting him there to. Randy was gone from Raw. John was gone from Raw. John gets injured. Who's to blame? You be the judge.