A/N: OMG, NEW CHAPTER! Okay, first off, in my defense, I was trying to finish a 108-page screenplay and shoot a 9-minute film this semester, and unfortunately, both of those things took precedence to this story. But now, the semester is OVER, and what better way to kick it off than with a new chapter? To all of those who have read, reviewed, or favorited, you are awesome! Hopefully, you will enjoy this one!

Thank you to Esha Napoleon, alethea293, extremist, D Torres, miles89, LetNys, and Syco's Path for reviewing the last chapter! Love yas!

Chapter 11: The Morning After

The first thing Melina was aware of as she drifted back to consciousness was a pounding headache and the sour aftertaste of alcohol on her tongue.

The paparazzi princess moaned softly, rolling over onto her side. She could feel the pale radiance of daylight pressing against her eyelids, but kept them tightly closed, afraid that if she opened them, the jackhammer going nonstop inside her head would split her skull apart.

She reached out with one arm, groping blindly for Johnny, praying that he was at least a little less hungover than she was, that he was not in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god. More than anything, she needed Johnny to help her make sense of the previous evening—because, quite frankly, she couldn't remember any of it. She couldn't even remember how she'd gotten back to her hotel room last night. The Dominant Diva could recall going to the club, having a few drinks, gloating about Johnny's victory at Unforgiven…but beyond that, everything else seemed to have been swallowed up by a black hole; a vast void that had engulfed a selective chunk of her memories, leaving her with no clues as to what had transpired last night.

Instead of her boyfriend, however, Melina's fingers encountered only empty air and the cool textured surface of the bedspread. The paparazzi princess rolled onto her back, making a soft pitiful noise in the back of her throat. All right, no Johnny. Maybe he was out getting coffee or something. In spite of her discomfort, Melina felt a small smile touch her face. Yeah…that was it: Johnny had woken up, slipped out quietly so he wouldn't wake her, and any minute now, he would reenter this room with two steaming cups of fragrant, caffeine-infused brew.

And if that was the case—then at the very least, she could drag her carcass out of bed and make some kind of an effort to look presentable.

Slowly, so as not to exacerbate her headache, the Dominant Diva sat up, locking her hands together and stretching her arms up over her head. She rubbed her eyes, lifting her lids open a crack and peering sleepily around the room. The pain in her head had ratcheted up several notches and the taste in her mouth was disgusting, but it was nothing that a handful of Advil and a toothbrush couldn't cure—

Like a needle scratching the surface of a vinyl record, Melina's thoughts abruptly screeched to a halt, her eyes growing wide as she stared at the figure in the corner.

Jeff was curled up in one of the hotel room's armchair, his arms crossed over his chest, his feet propped up on the radiator. His head lolled to one side as he slept, his mouth was hanging open—and to top it all off, he was drooling.

For a few seconds, Melina couldn't move, couldn't do anything except blink in utter shock. Gradually, her paralysis gave way, and she reached up, digging her fingernails into her upper arm. The sharp pain that greeted her told her more than words could that this was no dream, that this was really happening, and the paparazzi princess shrieked, grabbing the covers and yanking them up to her chin.

It was as though a gun had gone off. Jeff sat bolt upright, reflexively wiping the saliva from his chin with one hand, as he struggled to orient himself. "Wha? Whazzgoingon?" As he struggled to unfold himself, the Charismatic Enigma lost his balance and slid off the chair, landing on his ass with a muffled THUMP.

Melina continued to scream, the covers still clutched to her chest. Jeff looked up at her, his sleepy bewilderment eventually fading, with cynical comprehension taking its place. A wry smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Oh…it's you." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior yawned. "Mornin', princess."

"What are you doing here?" the paparazzi princess shrieked. "How did you get in here?" With one hand, she jabbed her index finger in the direction of the door. "Get out! Get the hell out!"

Jeff looked unfazed by her near-hysteria. Instead of obeying her directive, he leaned back against the armchair, pushing his multi-hued hair out of his face. "Hate to give you a news flash this early in the morning, princess," the younger Hardy brother replied, his last words almost swallowed up by another enormous yawn. "But, uh…this…is my room."

Melina was already opening her mouth to utter a scathing remark to the contrary, when she suddenly realized that Jeff was right. The wallpaper, the carpet, the drapes—all were different. The bed wasn't even facing the same direction. And as for luggage—the only sign of the room's occupancy was a battered suitcase propped against the far wall, one which certainly did not belong to either her or Johnny.

The Dominant Diva snapped her mouth shut, tilting her chin up haughtily and averting her gaze from Jeff's. Okay, so she was in Jeff Hardy's hotel room—what the hell was she doing there?

An icy feeling of dread gripped her stomach, and Melina swallowed hard. No…surely not… She had been drunk, but she hadn't been that drunk…had she?

Jeff watched her discomfort with amusement, chuckling. "To answer your next question, princess—no, we didn't." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior slowly got to his feet, wincing. "Believe me—both of us would have to be wasted for that to happen." Pressing one hand to the small of his back, he gingerly walked toward the bathroom, his body clearly suffering the effects of last night's match.

As subtly as she dared, Melina made a quick check of her person. All of her clothes were still in place; she was even still wearing her jewelry. The only thing missing was her boots, and another swift glance around the room showed her that they were sitting a few feet away, neatly arranged side by side.

The paparazzi princess looked down at her lap, gradually releasing her hold on the covers. She knew that she should be feeling gratitude right about now, or at least some small measure of appreciation for what the younger Hardy brother had done for her. But all Melina felt was a dull sick anger, the source of which she could not identify.

Maybe it was the fact that she was hung-over. Or maybe it had something to do with waking up with no memory of the previous night, in the hotel room of the one man she truly despised. Either way, Melina Perez was possessed by a blank rage, a dull wrath that sought a target.

And right now, the only target available was Jeff Hardy.

The Dominant Diva's dark eyes narrowed, her lips drawing back from her teeth. "You sick freak," she spat. "I don't know what the hell you're on, but—"

"How about a thank-you, huh, princess?" the Charismatic Enigma interjected, rolling his eyes. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the fuming Diva. "Because—sorry to burst your bubble here—but watching you puke your guts out isn't exactly my idea of a fun evening." Jeff sighed, reaching up to massage his temples with one hand. "Look, princess, give me a break, okay? It's early, you're screaming, and I haven't had my coffee yet, so if you could give me five min—"

But the paparazzi princess had stopped listening. "You're disgusting," Melina shot back. She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up a little further. As Jeff reached the doorway of the bathroom, she added, her tone sweetly malicious: "Just wait until Johnny hears about this—"

At this, Jeff froze. Melina couldn't see his face, but down at his side, she saw his hand clench into a fist. Without warning, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior spun around, his eyes locking with hers. His green irises were bright with anger.

The Dominant Diva felt her rage abruptly drain away, replaced by the first faint stirrings of trepidation. She had made him mad; this time, she had really made him mad—and now, he was going to make her pay for it.

She had no way of knowing that it was her own words thundering in the younger Hardy brother's ears, drowning out everything else; words that she had uttered only hours before:

Johnny…he left me…

When Jeff spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous, with none of its previous scornful amusement. "All right, princess. You win. You're right—I'm a disgusting freak, a burn-out, a loser. But you know what? No one's forcing you to be here. So here's the door—" The Charismatic Enigma stormed to the main door, throwing it open and gesturing out at the hallway before turning his furious gaze back on the paparazzi princess. "—don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out."

For a few seconds, Melina could only sit there in shock, still stunned by the sudden outpouring of fury from the younger Hardy brother. But soon the old habitual arrogance kicked back in, and the Dominant Diva pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Fine!" she snapped, throwing back the covers and getting to her feet. Once she was upright, the world swam in front of her briefly, threatening to send her tumbling right back down to the floor. But the paparazzi princess gritted her teeth and hung on, refusing to relinquish herself to the sensation of vertigo.

After all…that was probably what had gotten her in trouble last night.

Snatching her boots off the floor, Melina stormed toward the open door, tossing her red-brown curls over her shoulder. "Like I'd want to spend another second around you!" she added nastily.

Just as she stepped out into the hallway, Jeff spoke once more. His voice was soft, almost inaudible, but full of tightly controlled emotion. "By the way—when you're done tattling to your boyfriend, princess—maybe you can ask him why he left you passed out in a nightclub in the first place."

Melina looked back; the Charismatic Enigma had just enough time to see her haughty countenance falter in stunned surprise before he slammed the door in her face.

Jeff stomped into the bathroom, tearing off his t-shirt and wrenching the faucet on. As cold water tumbled into the sink basin, he caught its flow in his cupped hands, splashing it onto his face. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior repeated this action a second time, then a third, before finally shutting the water off and staring at his reflection in the mirror.

He had known that he would regret this—and sure enough, Melina had proven him right. All of the trouble he had gone to last night, all his attempts to be nice, to be a good fucking Samaritan—why had he even bothered, when he had known from the start how it would end?

What had he been expecting; that Melina would open her eyes and smile at him? That she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him like she had the night before—

The younger Hardy brother punched the mirror, not hard enough to break it, but with enough force to bruise his knuckles. "Bitch," Jeff muttered under his breath. "Fucking bitch—"

There was a knock at the door.

The sound was so soft and tentative that for a moment, the Charismatic Enigma wondered if he had imagined it. But then it came again, more forceful this time. Jeff grabbed a nearby towel, wiping the excess water from his face as he tried to block out the sound of the knocking. But as the rapping persisted, growing louder and louder each time, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior eventually lost patience and stormed out of the bathroom, flinging open the main door. "What?" he growled.

Melina stumbled forward, the momentum of the door opening knocking her off-balance. She almost collided with the younger Hardy brother, catching herself only at the very last second. The Dominant Diva froze, her dark eyes locked onto Jeff's upper body sans shirt, at the branch-like tattoo running the length of his right arm. Her gaze slowly traveled upward until it met his, and for an instant, something passed between them—something that, for once, was not full of hate.

The Charismatic Enigma was the first one to break it, however. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame and glaring at the Raw Diva. "Well?" he drawled, his voice filled with annoyance. "What do you want now?"

Melina didn't seem to hear him at first. A second or two elapsed before she finally blinked and shook her head, returning to the present. The paparazzi princess looked down, trailing the toe of her bare foot (she still hadn't donned her stilettos) across the patterned surface of the carpet. "Can I—" Her voice was hesitant, reluctant; for a second, Jeff was transported back to the previous night, to the way she had sounded when she gripped his hand. Melina crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to look nonchalant and failing miserably. She lifted her chin, almost but not quite meeting his eyes, swallowing hard as she steeled herself. "Can I…get…a ride?"

The laugh burst out of Jeff, harsh and bitter and utterly devoid of amusement. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, his mouth curving up in a humorless grin. "You are some piece of work, you know that?" he remarked to no one in particular. The younger Hardy brother lowered his gaze, meeting Melina's eyes once again. "Give me one, one good reason why I should do anything for you."

Silence greeted his query. Jeff sighed, and started to swing the door closed. Just as the tumbler was about to click into place, he heard Melina's voice, softer and even more tentative. "Because…I'm sorry."

The Charismatic Enigma paused, then slowly pulled the door back open, staring hard at the Dominant Diva. "What was that, princess?" he asked, cupping his hand to his ear, his voice holding only the faintest note of sarcasm. "Speak up; I didn't quite catch it."

Irritation flashed in Melina's brown eyes, and from the way she bit her lip, she was obviously holding back a vicious retort. But instead of giving in to her exasperation, the paparazzi princess swallowed hard, spitting out her words in a tone of grudging dislike: "I said…I'm s…s…sorry." Her dark irises locked onto Jeff's green ones, and she let out her breath in an impatient huff. "Now…can I please get a ride?"

For a moment, there was no reply, no indication that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had even heard her request. Then, the younger Hardy brother slowly pushed his body off the door frame, shoving his hands into his back pockets. His green gaze swept over Melina, and the Dominant Diva felt her cheeks burn.

"Give me five minutes, princess."

Jeff twisted the steering wheel to the left, pulling the car up in front of the main entrance of Melina's hotel. He put the vehicle in "Park", glancing over at his passenger.

Melina's high-heeled boots were back on her feet, and her head was bowed, her red-brown tresses obscuring her face. She hadn't uttered one word during the ride over, but as soon as the car's movement ceased, the Dominant Diva stirred, turning and reaching for the door handle. "Thanks…" she murmured, sounding distracted.

The door lock snapped down, preventing her exit. Melina furiously looked over at Jeff, who was just removing his hand from the automatic lock button. "Well?" the paparazzi princess demanded. She combed her hair back from her face, glaring at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "What is it now, Hardy?"

Jeff didn't look at her; only stared straight ahead at the sparse landscaping arrangement of trees and bushes. "No reason, princess," he remarked. He looked over at her, his emerald irises as uncomfortably piercing as a laser. "Just wondering if this boyfriend of yours is really worth it."

Melina felt a laugh escape her throat. "What's the matter, Hardy?" the Dominant Diva shot back. "Jealous?"

Something about the question, about the way she phrased it, sent a strange shiver up her spine, and the paparazzi princess rushed on before she could dwell on what it meant. "Look, Jeff—" Had she really just used his first name? No matter; no time to think about that right now. "—let me make something clear to you: just because you picked me up off the floor last night doesn't mean that things are different between us. I was drunk; I could have hit on the Pope and not cared. So don't start getting ideas and thinking that this—" She gestured between the two of them. "—means something, because it doesn't. I don't like you, you don't like me—and that is never going to change."

Melina paused to take a breath. "And as for Johnny…you don't even know him—"

"You're right, princess," Jeff interrupted. "I don't." His focus was still on her, and even though his eyes never traveled any lower than her face, there was something penetrating about his gaze. "But I'm starting to think that maybe you don't, either."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. For a second, Melina had the sensation that she was leaning closer to the Charismatic Enigma, that she was arching her body up to meet his—and then Jeff abruptly turned away, and the moment, whatever it was, was gone.

Without looking at her, Jeff reached over, pressing the button. The lock snapped up. "See you in the ring," the younger Hardy brother whispered, but whether he was talking to her or himself, the paparazzi princess wasn't sure.

Next to him, Jeff heard Melina sigh, followed by a muttered: "Whatever…" He didn't look over, didn't move, as the passenger door opened and the Dominant Diva exited, slamming the door shut behind her. It wasn't until the click of her boot heels faded into nothingness that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior let out his breath in a long sigh, leaning down to rest his head on the steering wheel.

He hated her. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had hated a woman with such a fiery intensity.

And yet…

And yet, the whole time, he had wanted to kiss her. He had wanted to kiss her so bad that it hurt.

Jeff's cell phone went off, the vibration digging into his hip and almost causing him to hit his head on the roof of the car. The Charismatic Enigma quickly dug the electronic device out of his pocket, flipping it open and holding it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Jeff?" Even the usual cell phone distortion couldn't disguise the adorable bubbly quality of Maria's voice. The younger Hardy brother leaned back in his seat, his eyes drifting closed.

"Hey, 'Ria? What's up?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Jeff could almost picture Raw's backstage reporter biting her lip. "Nothing…" the Raw Diva admitted. "Except…we agreed last night that we were going to carpool together to Montreal—and since I'm all ready to go, I'm just wondering…where are you?"

Jeff smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, cursing silently. Shit. In all the drama concerning Melina, he had completely forgotten about the plans he had made with Maria. His girlfriend. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior kicked the side of the door, mouthing Shit Shit Shit.

"Jeff?" Now Maria's voice had taken on a note of concern. "Is…is everything all right over there?"

"Huh?" Jeff blurted out. "No, everything's fine. I just, uh…" His eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for something, anything, to spin into an excuse. At the main entrance, a pair of businessmen emerged, white cardboard coffee cups in hand. Jeff's green irises honed in on the beverage containers. "I was just getting coffee, and lost track of time. I'll be there in fifteen—" He glanced at his watch, wincing at how late in the morning it was. "—no, make that twenty minutes, okay?"

"No worries," the backstage reporter chirped. "But…since you're at the coffee place, could you bring me some, too?"

Jeff chuckled, hoping to God that it sounded normal and not forced in any way. "Sure thing, babe," he replied. "See you in a bit."

He barely heard Maria's breathy "Bye, Jeff," as he snapped the phone closed, his ears were reverberating with the sound of another voice.

Melina's voice:

Your eyes…

Her fingers entwined through his…

All I see…

Her lips pressed against his, kissing him back…

Anymore…

Jeff abruptly punched the steering, accidentally hitting the horn in the process. "It didn't mean anything!" he exclaimed to the empty car. "She was drunk, I was stupid—it didn't…it didn't mean anything…"

His voice trailed off, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior sagged forward, resting his forehead on the rim of the steering wheel. As he did so, he heard a voice, that annoying inner voice, the one that sounded suspiciously like Matt, offer one last retort before skittering back out of reach into his subconscious.

Liar…

Melina took a deep breath, straightening up and squaring her shoulders back. She was as presentable as she could hope to be, considering the circumstances, but that didn't make what she was about to do any easier.

In a few seconds, she was going to look her boyfriend in the eye—and lie to his face.

Part of her—the part of her that pretty much dominated her life now—was livid, demanding to know why she didn't just tell Johnny the truth. Melina had to admit that the idea was tempting. After all, Jeff Hardy had been a pain in her ass for the past month; telling Johnny about this latest occurrence would pretty much guarantee the Charismatic Enigma a much-deserved ass-kicking.

And yet…she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not just because of the unexpected kindness Jeff had shown her—although that certainly was a factor. No…because ever since the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had entered her life, her relationship with Johnny had become…not exactly rocky…but unsteady, to say the least. And as much as her boyfriend loathed and despised Jeff Hardy—telling him that she had woken up in the Charismatic Enigma's bed would be stretching the limits of his tolerance.

Melina looked heavenward, uttering a silent prayer. Johnny was the one person she could trust—the only person she could trust –and she was about to lie to him.

For a second, an instance, there was a disturbance in the void, as the dark veils shrouding the previous night parted, affording her a glimpse of the events they concealed. But the view was unclear, and the blackness slammed back into place with alarming swiftly, leaving her with only a vague feeling of uncertainty and an even vaguer one of déjà vu.

The Dominant Diva swallowed hard, balling her hand into a fist and rapping sharply on the door with her knuckles. For a few seconds, there was nothing. Melina frowned, leaning closer until her ear was pressed against the wood.

She could hear Johnny from within the room. His voice was faint; he sounded like he was on the phone with someone. "—had a really great time last night—"

Melina rapped again, harder this time. On the other side, she heard Johnny say: "—hang on; there's someone at the door. I'll call you later, okay?" Soft footsteps neared the door, and the paparazzi princess quickly moved back, slapping a suitably pitiful expression on her face as it swung open.

Johnny was already dressed, clad in a white button-up shirt and designer jeans. For a moment, he stared at her with surprise, but then in the next instant, the surprise gave way to delight and concern, and he scooped her into his arms, pulling her into the room and shutting the door behind them. "Mel? Oh my God, I was so worried!"

The room looked like an explosion had hit it: clothes on the floor, bed unmade. It was toward this bed that Johnny pulled Melina, still babbling away: "I thought you left, so I came here to look for you, but you weren't here, so I went back. I left you, like, fifty messages—"

Melina struggled slightly, attempting to extricate herself from her boyfriend's embrace. "I left my phone here, remember?" For some reason, her migraine had increased tenfold, and there was something smothering about Johnny's frantic attentiveness.

Smothering…and just a teeny bit false.

Johnny finally pulled back, allowing her an opportunity to breathe. "So…where were you?" he asked. All the concern in the world couldn't mask the blatant curiosity in his tone.

Luckily, Melina had prepared for this; had been preparing since the drive over here. She lifted her head up, meeting her boyfriend's gaze without flinching. "Victoria let me crash with her and Torrie." That was a lie; the Vicious Vixen hated her just like everyone else. Melina shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and sheepish at the same time. "I was really drunk last night—I don't remember…anything."

For a heartbeat, something flashed across the Intercontinental Champion's face—was it…guilt? But then Johnny abruptly looked away, clearing his throat. "Well, baby, the important thing is that you're here." He took hold of her hands, clasping them in both of his. "You're here, we're together…and I'm still the Intercontinental Champion. That's all that matters."

Still holding her hands, he gently pushed her down into a sitting position on the bed. "Now," Her boyfriend's tone had become uncomfortably businesslike. "You just sit down here—and I'll get you some water, okay?" Reaching over, he trailed the tips of his fingers along the curve of her cheek before turning away, walking toward the bathroom.

Melina breathed a sigh of relief. Johnny had bought the lie. But then again…acting was what she was good at, wasn't it? Making everyone believe one thing, while inside, she believed another?

The paparazzi princess leaned back, resting her weight on the heels of her hands, stretching her legs out in front of her. As she did so, her heel caught on something, and the Dominant Diva bent over, peering down to investigate.

A lacy pink thong was caught on the spike heel of her boot. Melina's brown eyes grew wide. Slowly, she disentangled her boot from the undergarment, studying it with a kind of morbid curiosity.

She had only been in this room twice; once when they'd checked in and once right before they'd gone to the club. Both times, she hadn't taken off so much as an earring in this room. Besides…she knew with a sense of absolute and dreadful certainty that this thong did not belong to her.

And if it didn't belong to her, that meant that—

Melina sat up abruptly, the veil covering last night giving way once again, this time allowing a voice—Johnny's voice—to filter through…

So…Kelly…how'd you feel about giving the Intercontinental Champ a private show?...

And another voice—this one belonging to Jeff Hardy…

I'm starting to think that maybe YOU don't, either…

With a low gasp, the paparazzi princess kicked the scrap of lace and elastic back under the bed. She clenched her hand into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. Her heart was pounding in her chest, so fast she was sure she was going to have a stroke. But Melina's face didn't move, didn't change; it remained as icily pristine as before.

After all, she was the Dominant Diva. She didn't care. She didn't feel. She didn't have a heart.

A big tear rolled down Melina's cheek, hesitating at her chin before falling and plopping silently onto the carpet.