A/N: Yes, I know. I am a bad updater and a horrible procrastinator. Please, accept this new chapter by way of apology. For all of you who have continued to bear with me: you are awesome! Thank you so much for sticking with this story, too!

A/A/N: The song in this chapter is "For Sure" by Lostprophets. All rights, etc. belong to them, not me.

Thank you to alethea293, Esha Napoleon, Writinglove101, miles89, Nikki7993, staybeautiiful, Baby Jayne, BettyChampGirl, and xXx A Beautiful Nightmare xXx for reviewing the last chapter! You are all so very very cool! Love yas!

Chapter 8: Hey Jealousy

And every time I see your face, I laugh out loud

Acting hot; you're fitting in with all the crowd

He was done with her.

After what had happened on Raw four days ago—his clusterfuck of an encounter with Melina and the sleepless night that had followed it—Jeff had sworn that he was done with the paparazzi princess. Ambiguous emotions nonwithstanding, philandering boyfriend or not…the girl had kicked him in the nuts. If that wasn't a true indication of how she really felt, then Jeff was clearly the most oblivious guy on the planet. It was time he stopped dwelling on her, and instead started thinking about taking that title belt strapped around her boyfriend's waist.

And for a little while, he'd actually been able to keep that promise. The plane ride back to North Carolina, the three days of down-time at his home—during that time, the Dominant Diva, Madison Square Garden, and the events that had transpired there were the furthest things from his mind. But unfortunately for Jeff, this peaceful ignorance was not destined to last, and it was on the flight to New York that the first fleeting memories of Melina began to trickle back into his conscious mind.

At first it was just little things: the confused longing in the paparazzi princess's brown eyes as she stared back at him, the velvety softness of her lips beneath his thumb. But as morning became afternoon, more sensations and recollections returned to him, so by the time he pulled into the parking garage at the Savings Bank Arena in Jamestown for Friday's house show, the whole shameful incident had resurfaced, replaying itself over and over in his head like a bad horror movie.

Despite the passage of time, the Charismatic Enigma could still remember everything, every nuance of feeling, as though the incident had occurred seconds rather than days ago. He could still feel his mouth grazing hers—moments before reality had painfully reasserted itself in the form of a kick to the groin—and the rush of electricity that simple contact had brought. It had been like a million TLC matches rolled into one; it had been like hitting the Swanton off the top of a skyscraper. The sensation had exhilarated him, it had scared the hell out of him…and oddly enough, it had felt right.

Which was even more terrifying--because this was Melina.

And if I could stop the time

And ask you for a clever line

And just because I know you won't give it to me

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt a sardonic smile slip across his face. Why was it that whenever you wanted least to be reminded of something or (in his case) someone, the whole world seemed to conspire against you? Even the Lostprophets song currently blasting in his ears seemed to have taken on a deeper meaning, as though the lyrics had been written with the Dominant Diva in mind.

Jeff ground to a halt, almost smacking the back of his legs with his suitcase in the process. This was ridiculous. Here he was, two days away from an Intercontinental Championship match—his first WWE pay-per-view match in more than three years—obsessing over a girl than he didn't even like and trying to find meaning in a rock song. Thank God Matt wasn't here to witness this; his older brother would have given him shit, favoring him with a pitying look before offering some well-meaning but patronizing advice. It had been a long time since Jeff had actually listened to any of Matt's advice, and he was pretty sure that whatever his big brother had to say about Melina would dovetail neatly with his own experiences and observations.

Simply put…Melina was a bitch. A golddigger, probably; a harpy, definitely, but "bitch" was really the tidy little five-letter word that summed her up perfectly. The only person who seemed to be worthy of her was a douchebag pretty-boy who apparently couldn't keep it in his pants; everyone else was beneath her, nothing more than dirt on the sole of her stiletto boot.

Since his first day back, she had gone out of her way to belittle and sabotage the Charismatic Enigma. At best, Jeff merely disliked her; at worst, he downright loathed her. They had nothing in common, they never would have anything in common, and his aborted attempt to kiss her had been awkward, inappropriate, and absolutely insane. Boom. End of story.

So then…why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

It's raining hard here now

That'll never change

We'll start a war here now

So who's to blame

When it starts to rain down?

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff caught a glimmer of movement and looked over, his face immediately lighting up when he saw who it was. "Hey, 'Ria!" The backstage reporter hurried toward him, arms outstretched, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior let go of his suitcase so he could envelope her in a warm hug.

They remained in this embrace for a minute or so, before Jeff slowly drew back. He slipped one arm around Maria's shoulders, using his free hand to rip his ear buds out of his ears. "So how's your week been going since I last saw you?"

He felt Maria's arm tentatively reach around his back to rest on his waist, her petite body pressing even closer against his. The backstage reporter shrugged, somehow managing to make the wordless response both noncommittal and completely adorable. "The usual; nothing special." She glanced up at him, blinking her big green eyes. "How about you?"

Oh, nothing much…I got into a paint fight with Melina the Super Bitch in the parking garage of Madison Square Garden, I shoved her up against a wall, and—here' s the really funny part; you'll love this—I TRIED TO KISS HER. Of course, she nailed me in the balls before I could get very far, but STILL…

Oh, and you'll love this. Later on that night, I ran into that tool she calls a boyfriend, drunk off his ASS, and guess what? He's cheating on her! JOHNNY NITRO is cheating on MELINA! Yeah! I know! Who would have thought?

And here's the best part; this is the part that'll REALLY kill you—I got MAD at HIM! For cheating on HER! Melina's only the biggest banshee on both rosters, but I got MAD because Nitro's screwing around on her behind her back! And here's the kicker: for the teensiest second—an instant, really—I felt SORRY for her! Sorry! For HER!

Isn't that funny? Isn't that HILARIOUS?

"Nothing really," Jeff replied after only the briefest hesitation, amazed at how normal his voice sounded.

The pair walked slowly across the parking lot in silence for another minute or two, before Maria took a deep breath. Jeff felt her small frame tense up, and when she turned her face toward his again, her pretty features were fixed in a countenance of nervous seriousness. "Jeff…could I talk to you for a bit?" She glanced back behind them, taking in the handful of backstage personnel and other Superstars scattered across the parking area. "Not here; someplace more private."

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior kept his expression neutral, but inside, he felt his stomach give a sudden sickening lurch. "Sure thing," he answered calmly. He let Maria lead him into the arena, to a hallway devoid of equipment or other people. The backstage reporter reluctantly pulled away from him, turning to face him. Jeff leaned back against the wall, started to cross his arms over his chest, decided that it looked too intimidating, and settled for shoving them in his pockets instead. He stared intently at the Raw Diva opposite him.

Maria didn't speak at first; merely looked down at her feet, shuffling them back and forth. She twisted her hands together in front of her, fidgeting with the silver rings adorning her fingers. When she finally glanced back up at Jeff, her face was composed, but one look in her green eyes told him otherwise; she was so nervous that she was almost shaking. To Jeff, she looked like a scared little puppy, and his heart abruptly went out to her. Impulsively, he moved toward her, reaching out to cover her hands with both of his. The backstage reporter blushed and ducked her head again, but she didn't pull away. Jeff gently touched her chin, tilting her head up until her eyes met his once more. "Hey," he remarked softly. "It's okay; you can tell me." He slid his fingers along the curve of her cheek, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear. "Is something wrong?"

Maria shook her head fiercely. "No…nothing's wrong." She hesitated for a moment, blushing even harder. "I mean…I hope nothing's wrong." She looked down at her feet again, but before Jeff could ask what her enigmatic comment meant, the Raw Diva blurted out: "I like you, okay?"

Her doe-like eyes flicked up, locking on his, and Jeff was momentarily stunned by the intensity of emotion burning in their depths. Maria glanced to the side, as though checking for possible eavesdroppers, but the stretch of hallway was still deserted. Nevertheless, the backstage reporter lowered her voice. "And I don't mean just as a friend—I like you a lot." She ducked her head again, her long brown hair falling down over her face. She was still talking, her words tumbling over one another so fast that Jeff had to struggle to understand her. "You're the coolest guy I've ever met: you're sweet, you're funny, and I love hanging out with you. But whenever I look at you—" Another pause, another quick shuffle of feet. "I feel like there's something more there; like what we have could be something more. And I guess…what I want to know is…" Maria lifted her lids, her green eyes boring into his once more. She swallowed hard. "…whether or not you feel the same way about me."

Jeff had this momentary sensation of being trapped in a nightmare; the one where he was taking a test that he hadn't studied for. He'd sensed for a while that this talk was coming; the inevitable More-Than-Just-Friends discussion. However, that wasn't making standing here any easier, listening to Maria while trying to swallow a ludicrous feeling of dread—the feeling that, no matter which option he chose, he would be making the biggest mistake of his life.

If he rejected Maria, then he was just an idiot, plain and simple. The Raw Diva was drop-dead gorgeous, laid-back, fun to be around, adorable—she could have had any guy she wanted, and she was willing to settle for his broken-down daredevil ass. And it wasn't as though he didn't like her, because he did. A lot. It was only natural that he and Maria should take their relationship to the next level—so why was he hesitating? Why was he fighting this?

Maybe because, deep down, Maria wasn't the one that he really wanted. Maybe because, lately, his thoughts were full of someone else—

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior almost laughed at this, holding back his humorless mirth with effort. Was that what this hesitation, this indecision, was all about? Jesus Christ… why was he still making a federal case out of this? Because four days ago, he had gone a little nuts and tried to kiss his archrival's girlfriend? Because, for one second, he had thought that something actually existed between them?

The only thing between him and Melina was pure, unadulterated hatred—and this past Monday's attempt had been nothing short of madness.

Why was he making this so difficult? It wasn't like Maria was proposing marriage. Maybe he didn't love her, but no one was asking him to. Hell, she wasn't even asking him to. Most likely, their relationship wouldn't even change—except now he'd get to kiss her, and that would be pretty damn awesome.

Choose the pretty girl standing in front of him, or dwell on the bitchy one who couldn't stand him—it didn't seem like a hard decision at all; even a burnout like him could see what the obvious choice was.

Maria was still talking, apparently believing that she hadn't argued her case strongly enough: "If you don't, that's cool; I don't want to force you into anything that isn't mutual. I just want to want to know now, before I get my heart broken—" Her flow of words ceased as Jeff placed his fingers over her lips, silencing her.

The Charismatic Enigma looked down at her, his mouth curling up into an affectionate smile. Nope, not a hard decision at all. "First of all…" he began. "Take a breath, please." The backstage reporter's cheeks flushed a bright pink. "Second…" Jeff continued. "You're not forcing me into anything. I think you're awesome, 'Ria. I want—" He hesitated for only the slightest second before going on. "I want to see where this goes, too. I mean…I think there's something more between us. I mean—" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stopped, feeling his own face start to burn. "Geez, can you tell it's been a while since I've done this?"

He looked the Raw Diva straight in the eye. Maria's green irises were shining with hope. "Screw this," Jeff remarked bluntly. "'Ria…will you be my girlfriend?"

The radiance and happiness that lit up Maria's face was so bright that it almost blinded him. The backstage reporter squealed with delight, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "Yes!" she exclaimed exuberantly. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Jeff returned her embrace, unable to keep the smile off his own face. After a while, Maria pulled back a little, her beautiful face only inches from his. The Charismatic Enigma felt a faint stirring of the old familiar panic. He wasn't sure whether the questions on this exam were multiple-choice or true/false. "Sorry," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm a little rusty…I'm not really sure we should go from here."

Maria smiled, her features full of that adorable sweetness he found so endearing. "Me neither," the backstage reporter replied. She reached up tentatively, caressing his cheek with her fingers. Her touch was light, warm, and Jeff felt a kind of peace fall over him. He had made the right choice.

Maria's high-pitched voice dropped to a whisper. "So let's just make it up as we go along." Tiptoeing up, she kissed him softly on the lips.

Melina Perez was in a foul mood.

Part of it was Johnny's fault. The Intercontinental Champion had returned to their hotel room on Tuesday morning, right as Melina was about to leave for the airport, extremely hungover and extremely irritable. So irritable, in fact, that the paparazzi princess decided not to press him on his whereabouts the previous night.

Three days of rest and relaxation had apparently cured the hangover, but not the attitude, as Melina unfortunately learned this morning. All Johnny had done during the flight to New York and the drive to the arena was bitch and moan—not about his head this time, but rather, about his title defense in two days—and his Unforgiven opponent, Jeff Hardy.

And therein lay the other half of her crappy view of the world, the additional contributing factor to her annoyance with life. Whatever blame could not be attributed to Johnny could be laid squarely to rest on the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's shoulders. She had managed to banish Jeff from her thoughts for the past three days, but yet, the second she had set foot in this arena, the entire humiliating episode from the past edition of Raw returned to her, slamming into her with brutal force. How he had tossed paint on her, how he had pushed her up against the wall, how he had—

No. She would not think about that. She would be damned if she would dwell on that any more. In two days, Jeff Hardy would get the ass-kicking that he deserved, and she would be rid of him once and for all.

Even as the Dominant Diva contented herself with this vision of the future, however, another notion continued to trouble her. Namely—why hadn't she told Johnny what had happened? The Intercontinental Champion might be looking forward to his title defense with the same enthusiasm one reserves for a root canal, but that didn't mean he didn't want to beat the younger Hardy brother senseless. All during the trip here, Nitro had practically been begging for a reason to knock Jeff on his ass, and she could have given it to him. Lord knows she could have given it to him.

Throwing paint on your girlfriend? Oh, yeah.

Putting hands on your girlfriend? Oh, yeah.

Trying to kiss your girlfriend? Oh, HELL yeah.

So why hadn't she said anything? With all that the Charismatic Enigma had done to her, why had she remained mute? Why was she protecting him?

Melina touched her mouth, running her fingers over her lower lip. Even after four days, she could still feel the dry brush of his mouth against hers, could still feel the heat that had welled up inside her at that light touch. And she could still recall the single irrational thought that had flitted through her mind, an instant before reflex had kicked in and saved her: that she had wanted him to kiss her…and she had wanted to kiss him back—

This unwanted recollection was driven from her mind, along with everything else, when she turned the corner and saw the couple kissing. Melina's automatic response was to turn around and exit the way she came, but that action, too, was arrested as she saw who the pair was.

Jeff wrapped his arms around Maria's waist, pulling her against him as he intensified the kiss. Maria held his face in both her hands; her body was molded perfectly against his.

Melina wanted to look away, but found that she couldn't; she was in the grip of every human's voyeuristic desire to look, to see. She couldn't move; her body had been seized by paralysis. It was like a bad dream, only this time, the danger wasn't behind her, but right in front of her. They looked so perfect with one another, as though they belonged together. They looked…happy.

The paparazzi princess felt herself begin to shake, the tremors starting in her stomach and radiating outward. And she knew, with a cold certainty, that if she didn't get out of this corridor right now…she was going to throw up.

Slowly, with effort, the Dominant Diva retreated back the way she had come. Her hand shot out, grabbing onto the wall for support. For a few seconds, her slender fingers curved into talons, scratching along the cinderblock's porous painted surface. And then she was out of sight, the disgusting tableau no longer playing out before her.

Melina sagged against the wall, letting her breath out in a deep sigh. With one hand, she reached up, groping for a second or two before locating her designer sunglasses. She pulled them down over her eyes, making the world around her darker and less distinct, shutting out reality.

Her day had officially gone from bad to downright shitty.

Jeff pressed both hands against the wall, squatting down in a deep knee bend as he prepared for his match. He was tagging with Carlito tonight against Randy Orton and the A-List Douchebag. And wherever Johnny Nitro went, Melina was sure to follow…

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shook his head, giving himself an enormous mental slap. Why the fuck was he still dwelling on that harpy? He was with Maria now--definitely with Maria—and he should be thinking about her, not Melina. What was his problem?

His problem was that he was thinking about Maria: he was thinking that as great as their kiss had been earlier—and it had been great—it had been just that, a kiss. No fireworks, no electricity, no explosions.

Certainly not what had happened when he had felt Melina's skin beneath his fingertips.

The Charismatic Enigma tried to focus on his impending match, tried to tell himself that he was stressing himself out over nothing—but yet, he couldn't shake the notion that he had just made a huge mistake…

A boot caught him in the ankle, knocking him off-balance. Jeff fell to one knee, catching himself with both hands. He looked up, glaring at the culprit, and was not at all surprised to see Johnny Nitro smirking down at him. And just beside the Intercontinental Champion, an identical sneer on her face…

Jeff's gaze slid over to the paparazzi princess, and for just a moment, just an instant, their eyes met…and held. But in the next instant, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior looked away, forced himself to, choosing instead to focus on his nemesis.

The Intercontinental Champion shrugged, making a show of phony innocence. "You know, Mel, they really should stop leaving trash out in the hallway for beautiful people like you and me to trip over."

Jeff's response was to roll his eyes and pull himself to his feet. He was used to Nitro's brand of immature intimidation by now; his only consolation was that in a little while, he would be face-to-face with that fur coat-wearing motherfucker in the ring, where words were certainly not going to help him.

Nitro went on, unaware that he was entertaining no one except himself. "Rumor has it, Hardy, that you actually managed to land yourself a girlfriend." At this, Jeff froze, but didn't say anything. The Intercontinental Champion chuckled derisively, reaching over to encircle Melina's waist with his arm. He went on, not noticing that his girlfriend had tensed the same moment that Jeff had. "Why doesn't it surprise me that the legendary Jeff Hardy would have to settle for the one chick who's a complete idiot?"

Jeff felt his hand clench into a fist, so hard that it hurt. But Nitro wasn't finished. "She probably said yes just because she's too dumb to see what a loser you are—"

The Charismatic Enigma felt his rage explode outward. Talking shit about him was one thing: he had a thick skin, he could take it. But doing so about Maria, who had done nothing to deserve it— Jeff lunged toward the self-proclaimed A-lister, swinging up his fist in preparation for the first blow, and feeling a small thrill of satisfaction at seeing the pretty-boy shrink back a little. "You shut your fucking mouth about her—" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior spat through clenched teeth.

"Hey, hey!" Through the red haze of his rage, Jeff felt a hand press against his chest holding him back. His vision gradually cleared, and he looked down to see that Melina had entered the fray, inserting herself between the two men. The Dominant Diva looked from Nitro to him and then back again. "Stop it." she commanded softly. Reluctantly, the two Superstars complied, each moving back a step or two.

Melina looked back at him, and Jeff felt something inside him clench when those brown eyes met his. He could still feel the warm pressure of her hand on his chest. Seriously, what was wrong with him? The paparazzi princess stared at him, the faintest tinge of pink coloring her cheeks. "It's not his fault," she whispered, and for a heartbeat, Jeff actually thought that she was talking to him. That they were the only two people in this hallway, and Nitro didn't even exist.

Then, as he watched, her expression changed, lapsing back into that familiar countenance of haughty disdain, and the Charismatic Enigma realized that such was not the case. "It's not his fault—" the paparazzi princess repeated, her voice full of bright mockery. "—that he can't beat you—" She moved back toward Nitro, her movements slow and seductive. "—that he has to settle for a bimbo—" The Dominant Diva reached up, entwining her arms around Nitro's neck. Her tone dropped to a sibilant purr. "—that despite all his fluke wins, he'll never…ever…get anything as hot…as…me." With that, she pulled Nitro down into a passionate kiss, pressing her curvaceous body against his.

Jeff watched them kiss, unable to stop a feeling of blank hatred from taking hold of him. Do you know that he's cheating on you?…he screamed silently at Melina. Do you know that while you're lying in bed at night, he's out sticking his dick in other women? Do you honestly have no clue…or do you just not care?

And as he looked on mutely, he felt another emotion latch onto him; an emotion he was all too familiar with. That emotion was jealousy—

Abruptly, the A-List pair broke apart, and Jeff quickly pasted a smile on his face, as though their PDA had done nothing but amuse him. "Yeah, that's right," he remarked sarcastically. "Just go ahead and suck face in my presence—I'll just remember this the next time I need to induce vomiting."

He started to sidle around them, but Nitro suddenly grabbed his shoulder, hauling him back. "What's the matter, Hardy?" the Intercontinental Champion sneered. "See something you want? Something you'll never have?" His tone was light, but there was an implied threat lingering at the edges of his words.

Jeff stared back at him, thinking only that he had been right the first time: this pair definitely deserved each other. "Listen, dude, the only thing of yours that I want…is that Intercontinental Championship." He glanced over at the blue-and-gold title belt draped over Nitro's shoulder. The self-proclaimed A-lister's smirk gradually dissipated.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior leaned in close, his mouth curving in a smirk of his own. "Tell you what: at Unforgiven…I'll take the belt—"

He jabbed his thumb in Melina's direction, never once taking his eyes off Nitro. "—you keep the skank."

Having claimed the final word, Jeff Hardy strolled away, whistling a Lostprophets tune softly under his breath.

For a moment, both Nitro and Melina were too stunned to respond. Then, without warning, Nitro exploded, tearing the sunglasses from his face and storming forward. "Goddamn asshole son of a bitch!" he snarled. "I'm gonna kick his fucking ass—"

Melina grabbed his arm, more out of habit than anything else. "Don't, Johnny," she snapped, her voice icy and authoritative. Nitro scowled, but grudgingly obeyed, easing his championship belt further up onto his shoulder. "Don't listen to him," the Dominant Diva went on. She watched Jeff disappear around a corner at the end of the hall. "He's just jealous."

Even as she said it, however, Melina wondered who the jealous one actually was: Jeff Hardy…or herself.