A/N: YAAAAY for new chapters! I have been so bad with the FF lately; my thesis has been kicking my ass and I also just got back from a week-long film festival. I'm so behind on reviewing, so for those of you whose work I read; I'm not ignoring you, I just haven't had time to read lately. But starting tomorrow, I will be working on getting caught up with my reviews.

In the meantime, enjoy this brand new chapter! I've been out of the FF loop long enough that I'm not up to full writer's strength, but I thought it turned out all right. Hopefully, y'all will enjoy it.

A/A/N: The song in the beginning is "Suffocate" by Cold; all rights, etc. belong to them.

Thank you to extremist, kyahbell, A Believer of Many Things, wwechick24, BigRedMachineUK, cherrycokerocks, and FANOFJOLINASPUFFY for your reviews! You are all AWESOME, and you know that I love every single one of you. Peace!

Chapter 21: Suffocate Me

I could take every fucking word she says

Throw it in her face

But would she even care?

I still remember when she looked at me

That frown upon her face

Trying to be sincere

I gathered all those little things she said

Kept them close to me

Trying to make this real

This cloud will always hover over me

I'm leaving you today

'Cause now I see...

The Charismatic Enigma stumbled unsteadily down the hallway, nearly losing his balance and grabbing onto a nearby equipment crate for support. His whole body was ablaze with pain; his head in particular was throbbing. All around him, the crisp outlines of objects were blurring, smearing into bright streams of color, and there was a faint high-pitched ringing in his ears.

In the back of his mind, Jeff knew that it might be a good idea to head to the trainer's and get checked out-Nitro's cheap shot with the Intercontinental Championship belt might have given him a mild concussion. But the Rainbow-Haired Warrior merely gritted his teeth against the discomfort, resuming his aimless shuffling gait.

After what he had just endured, he could care less about any potential concussion; he could pass out in the middle of this corridor and not give a damn. At least unconsciousness would bring with it blissful oblivion, a welcome respite from the sensations bombarding his brain; images and sounds that kept echoing themselves like the harsh staccato stutter of a skipping CD.

Nitro towering above him, hoisting the blue-and-gold title belt triumphantly over his head...

Your NEW Intercontinental Champion, Johnny Nitro...

...Melina, her legs locked around the self-proclaimed A-lister's waist, her lips pressed tenderly to his...

I don't love him anymore...I've found someone else...

...the paparazzi princess chasing after him, those fake tears of hers staining her cheeks, reaching out to him, still trying to beseech him when he was past the point of all pity...

I didn't know...You have to believe me, I DIDN"T KNOW...

...and his rejection of her-her lies, her tricks, her manipulations; spitting out one final remark in a choked growl before turning his back on her for good...

Do me a favor and stay away...stay the hell away from me...

Bile abruptly climbed up Jeff's throat, and he ground to a shaky halt, hunching over and coughing violently. Thankfully, the only thing that emerged was a gob of bloody saliva, and the Charismatic Enigma spat this onto the concrete, staggering toward the wall and slumping against it, sliding down toward the floor. He tilted his head up, gazing stupidly at the unremarkable ceiling above him, squinting his emerald irises against the unforgiving glare of the fluorescent bulbs.

He had once told Melina (it seemed like ages ago now; had it really only been last night?) that there was nothing in this world that hurt worse than missing the Swanton Bomb. He'd been wrong-this...this was far worse, because the pain wasn't in his body this time, but in his soul...and even though the marks from these wounds weren't visible, that didn't make their agony any less exquisite. His heart felt like it had literally been torn in half, as though it was nothing more than a paper cutout ripped right down the middle by some careless child.

And that child is Melina...the Rainbow-Haired Warrior thought dully to himself. Only she's no child...she knew EXACTLY what she was doing when she came to my room last night...

She knew that I was falling for her...and she used that...she used ME...just like she's used everyone else...

At the thought of the Dominant Diva, Jeff felt a muted flutter in his chest, as though his heart had just skipped a beat. He could feel his mind shutting down, sectioning itself off from the pain as it is wont to do in times of great emotional distress, a cold heavy numbness infusing into his limbs.

The Charismatic Enigma jerked his head backward suddenly, the back of his head connecting with the unyielding cinderblock surface of the wall. The blow brought involuntary tears to his eyes, but Jeff merely clenched his teeth and clung to the bright hot bubble of pain that rippled upward, wrapping his wounded psyche around its warmth like a person cupping their hand around the weak flame of a lit match.

As he did, a thought surged forth, bursting through the mental scab covering his emotional wounds, bouncing around his head, ricocheting off the insides of his skull. There was a time...when I could have looked into her eyes...and sworn that she felt the same way about me as I did about her...

So when did it become a lie? When did it stop being real?

Jeff squeezed his eyes closed, unable to keep tears-real tears this time-from trickling down his cheeks.

Or was it ever real in the first place?

Everyone had tried to warn him. Everyone-from Maria to his older brother-had tried to tell him that Melina was nothing but trouble...but as usual, instead of taking their advice, he had refused to listen, barreling stubbornly on ahead until there was no chance of turning back, until there was no other alternative but to crash and burn, both physically...and emotionally.

He could hear Matt's voice in his head, his mind for once disregarding the hated "I'm three years older and thus know what's best for you" tone and instead hearing the words, finally comprehending what his brother had been trying to tell him all along...

I've never understood why you have to do things the hard way...why it's always 'my way and everyone else can suck it' with you...

Maria adores you...and you're going to risk it all just so you can fool around with the bitchy girl that no one likes?...

Jeff started to reply, but already, Matt's voice was melting away, replaced by the countenance of his lovely Maria, her green eyes wide and full of a heartbroken hope-

So there's NOTHING going on?...

-and his own voice, stammering out a promise that he had to have known, even then, he was always destined to break...

NOTHING...I swear...

I promise...

Jeff slowly opened his eyes, staring listlessly at a point directly in front of him. It wasn't too late. He had made a catastrophic mistake, had fucked things up past all repair...but there was still something within his power to fix. Something he could make right.

And maybe, by doing it...he could finally assuage some of this anger, some of this pain, some of this guilt...and find peace.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior carefully rose to his feet, resuming his trek down the hall. His movements, though unsteady, were no longer aimless.

He knew where he was going now.

Maria was still wearing her on-camera attire-a purple minidress and brown high-heeled boots-but now had a gray zip-up sweatshirt draped across her shoulders. For all her wrestling inexperience, the backstage reporter was proving to be quite resilient; despite the beating she had suffered at the hands of Umaga, she was alert and sitting up when Jeff found her in the trainer's room, sipping water from a paper cup.

However, Maria's pale complexion was a few shades whiter than normal, the dark circles under her eyes standing out like bruises, and from the way she was leaning heavily on the trainer's arm for support as she drank...she was obviously still in a lot of pain.

Standing in the doorway, staring at her, Jeff felt an upwelling of guilt so acute that it seemed like his insides were folding themselves up like dinner napkins. It was all his fault; he should have been there. Whether he loved Maria or not, he still cared about her, and as her boyfriend, it was his job to protect her, to save her from any potential harm.

But instead, he had done neither. He had been so focused on Melina, on the betrayal that he had suffered at the hands of the paparazzi princess, that he had forgotten about the one woman who genuinely cared about him...and he had let her down. And it didn't matter that John Cena had ultimately come to her aid, saving her from any further injury-what mattered was those few agonizing minutes when Maria had been totally alone, completely at the mercy of the Samoan Bulldozer...and perhaps knowing already, even if only at the back of her mind, that Jeff wasn't going to save her...

He hadn't been there. Maria had forgiven him, believed in him, trusted him..but yet, at the one time when she truly needed his help, he hadn't been there to save her.

He hadn't been there. He hadn't been there.

The Charismatic Enigma let out a choked noise that was almost a sob, and at the sound, the backstage reporter glanced over. Her beautiful face immediately lit up with a sunny smile at the sight of him, but it was strained and laced with barely concealed pain. "Hey, you," she whispered, her voice soft, but still full of affection.

Without speaking, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior strode into the room, closing the distance between them, pulling Maria into his arms and holding her tight against his chest. Maria let out a tiny squeak of surprise. "Whoa there, Jeff! Not so hard; I still feel like I've been hit by a truck-" Nevertheless, she returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

Jeff loosened his grip, but never let go of her. Pressing his mouth against her ear, he murmured one phrase over and over again like a mantra, his Southern accent even thicker with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, 'Ria...I'm so sorry..."

Nitro slid the key card into the slot, fumbling for a moment before the light flashed green, allowing him to push the handle down and open the door. Stepping inside and snapping on the overhead light, the new Intercontinental Champion popped his head back out, gazing expectantly at his girlfriend. "Hey, Mel, you coming?"

The Dominant Diva didn't respond at first, but after a long moment, she turned her head, her dark eyes shifting from an unseen point in space to focus on the self-proclaimed A-lister. She was careful to keep her expression pleasantly neutral, trying to pass her lack of enthusiasm off as merely exhaustion, using these few seconds as an opportunity to study her boyfriend for the first time.

He was handsome-she would always be the first to admit that; his looks had been the first thing that had drawn her to him. Right now, the new Intercontinental Champion was even more appealing than usual, his perfect features flushed with confidence (and a little too much alcohol), an easy smile on his lips.

Peering deep into his eyes, Melina saw no trace of that blank rage, that terrifying dark other who had reared his ugly head and struck her down last night. But at the same time...she saw no real love, either. Affection, yes; lust, definitely...but there was none of that intensity, that deep burning passion she had seen smoldering in Jeff's green eyes as he made love to her-that same passion, she now realized, that had been in every look the younger Hardy brother had ever given her.

Even tonight, after the match, as he was telling her that he never wanted to see her again...she had still glimpsed that intense attraction in the depths of his gaze, glinting behind the anger and the pain, like a dying ember that is not quite extinguished.

Did he love her? Probably.

Did she love him? Oh, most definitely.

But what good was love, when the words themselves remained unspoken? She had never gotten the chance to tell the Rainbow-Haired Warrior how she really felt-and now, thanks to Eric Bischoff, thanks to Johnny, thanks to her own blind cowardice...she never would.

Johnny needs me...the paparazzi princess thought, her mind reluctantly returning to her boyfriend. He probably even cares about me...but he doesn't love me.

Maybe...he never did.

And for a few dizzying instants, the Dominant Diva wondered if she would be able to live like this: going through the motions with Johnny while always remembering what it had been like with Jeff; going back to the way things used to be after finally, finally, experiencing how they could have been-

The response that came to her was filled with such a chalky bitterness that it was a struggle to keep it from registering on her face. She was Melina Perez, the paparazzi princess, the Dominant Diva. She didn't have a heart. She didn't need a heart. She would always, always, do what was necessary to further her career...no matter what.

I do what I have to...consequences be damned...

Melina closed her eyes, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair back behind her ear. Without speaking, she eased past Johnny into the room. The new Intercontinental Champion followed her, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

Maria pushed Jeff down onto the bed, kissing him passionately. Climbing on top of him, she took hold of his shirt, yanking it up over his head and tossing it impatiently to the side. Jeff allowed her to do so, albeit a little more reluctantly than any other guy in his exact situation would have done.

Following the clusterfuck that had been Monday Night Raw, the backstage reporter and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had headed out to the nearest bar to commiserate about their respective matches. For Jeff, it had been an opportunity to-if not banish the paparazzi princess from his thoughts-at least burn her out temporarily with booze, and so he had consumed more alcohol than he had in a long time.

When Maria had asked if they could hang out in his hotel room for a while, the younger Hardy brother had been more than happy to comply. Of course, drunken dumbass that he was, he hadn't fully grasped that the backstage reporter's intentions might be less than innocent until the door had closed behind them and Maria had pounced on him like a jungle cat in heat.

Now, lying on the unmade double bed, shirtless, with a beautiful woman straddling his waist, Jeff realized that he was of two minds regarding the entire situation. Part of him (the alcohol-and-testosterone fueled caveman part of him) was thoroughly enjoying this, really to follow this scenario to its inevitable conclusion.

However, there was another part that, in spite of all the booze he had ingested, remained stone-cold sober, and it was this aspect of his psyche that kept clamoring from the back of his head, the sound of it like the irritating buzz of a clock radio alarm, filling him with an unknown sense of resistance.

Which was stupid. He had once dived out a hotel window on a whim-and right now was the complete opposite; he was on the verge of getting some from a hot girl who wanted him. This...this was he wanted.

Right?

Maria broke off the kiss suddenly, sitting up, and Jeff took the opportunity to catch his breath. "'Ria, wait a second," he managed to gasp out. "Are you sure you want to...I mean, after what you went through tonight..."

His voice trailed off as Maria stripped off her tank top. She wore nothing on underneath, and the sight of her nude upper body was enough to stun the two conflicting halves of his mind into silence. The backstage reporter leaned down, her expression still softly angelic, although she was no doubt enjoying the effect she was having on the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "I'm fine," the Raw Diva assured him. "The pain's gone. Besides..."

Maria paused, bending down even further, until her face was almost touching Jeff's. Opening her mouth, she trailed the tip of her tongue across his lower lip. "...you don't know how badly I want you right now," she finished, her voice a breathy whisper.

The younger Hardy brother didn't answer; he was too busying drinking in her presence, the delicate lines of her face. Maria ground her hips against his, evoking a pleasurable gasp from the Charismatic Enigma. "Close your eyes," she murmured.

Jeff complied, and when Maria's lips grazed his, he returned the kiss hungrily, only it was no longer Maria he was kissing; in his mind's eye-

-it was Melina, her mouth moving against his, the heated weight of her hair brushing past his face, her breasts pressing against his bare chest.

Wrapping his arms around her slender frame, Jeff rolled over so that he was on top, pinning the Dominant Diva beneath the weight of his body without crushing her. Sliding his mouth along the line of her jaw, he kissed her neck, each soft brush of his lips on her skin bringing forth a rapturous moan from the paparazzi princess.

Jeff moved lower, losing himself in the smell of her scent, the salty-sweet taste of her skin. Running his tongue along the curve of her navel, he paused at the waistband of her jeans, undoing the top button and tugging the zipper down a few notches.

He could feel her hands on his head, her fingers tenderly stroking his hair, and with a satisfied sigh, the younger Hardy brother wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pressing his face against her abdomen. "Melina..." he murmured drowsily. "I missed you, princess..."

"Jeff?"

The Charismatic Enigma froze, Maria's voice shattering the illusion with the same abruptness that a rock shatters a glass plate window. Jeff sat up, involuntary tremors gripping his body as the last of the fantasy melted away. He was still where he had imagined himself to be, but it was Maria's body that he held in his arms, Maria's skin beneath his hands, Maria's green eyes gazing lazily back at him.

The backstage reporter stretched languidly, a small smile touching her lips. "What is it, Jeff?"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior said nothing; only pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as awareness crashed over him like a bucket of cold water. The sober part of his brain had regained its voice...and it was screaming, the sound of its cries growing louder and louder, spitting out one word over and over again:

No no no no no no-

Maria's smile vanished, her eyes opening wider. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she peered at her boyfriend, concern creeping across her delicate features. "Jeff? What's wrong?"

Jeff didn't answer; he could barely hear anything past the voice in his head, which had risen to the volume of a fire bell...

No no no no no no-

"Jeff!" the backstage reporter cried, her voice shrill with concern. Sitting up fully, she grabbed hold of the younger Hardy brother's wrist-but as soon as her fingers touched his skin, Jeff pulled his hand free with a panicked gasp, backing away from Maria and nearly falling off the bed in the process. His emerald eyes were still glazed and a little unfocused...but they now held the unmistakable bright gleam of fear.

Maria looked dumbstruck. "Jeff?" Her jaw trembled, her green irises already filling with tears. "Jeff...is it..." She stopped, unable to even voice the thought.

The Charismatic Enigma didn't respond. He couldn't speak; could barely even think of anything more complex than the most basic and instinctive of notions. He couldn't explain it to her; he wasn't sure he could explain it to himself.

As a rule, the most profound of insights rarely come to us in one fully formed chunk, but rather, in a single instant of intuition. That was what had happened to the Rainbow-Haired Warrior...and what he had realized in that one moment was that no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he lied and pretended to believe otherwise, he would never be able to feel that way about Maria...because he didn't love her.

He didn't love her.

Jeff rose to his feet, backing away from the bed, his eyes traveling to the ceiling, the floor, the chair, the nightstand-anywhere but the stunned countenance of Maria. "I don't-" His tone was full of a dazed confusion. "-feel so well..." Staggering backward, he ducked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

The younger Hardy brother barely made it the few steps to the sink before he vomited; a hot sour stream of liquid and barely digested chunks of food. Jeff relinquished himself to the uncontrollable response, waiting until his retching had slowed to dry heaves before turning on the water and washing the contents of his stomach down the drain. Catching the flow of water in his cupped hands, he splashed it onto his face.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stared into the sink, into the unblinking black eye of the drain, water dripping from his nose and eyelashes. His thoughts were a jumble, a barely coherent mixture of notions and feelings that refused to stay silent.

Why did I come back?

Why did I go to Raw instead of SmackDown?

Why did I meet you?

Why did I-

"Stop," the Charismatic Enigma whispered harshly, but it was too late; too late to stop the thought from slipping free and blossoming into absolute truth.

Why did I fall in love with you...princess?

Melina ducked her head, tugging the brim of her black cadet cap down a little further as she wheeled her suitcase behind her. She, along with the rest of the Raw roster, was at the Braehead Arena in Glasgow, Scotland for the first leg of their European tour. Normally, the paparazzi princess relished performing for the WWE's international fans, but right now, she could care less.

Since the beginning of the week, after the disastrous events of Monday night, the Dominant Diva's life had become one unending "To Do" list. Get to the airport. Get to the arena. Get to the dressing room. Get to the ring-every small chore in her life becoming a task that she had to accomplish, a line item that she could focus all of her attention on...and thus allowing her to avoid dwelling on all the things in her existence that were so terribly, terribly wrong.

Like how miserable she felt now...or how alone.

As though to emphasize this point, Johnny (in true form) had already abandoned her, no doubt heading off to brag about his recent title win to anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot. In truth, though, Melina was glad for his absence. It was easier to function when he wasn't around-not having to fake her enthusiasm, or her desire, or trying to hide how unhappy she was.

It was a double-edged sword, however; when Johnny was gone, it only reminded her that someone else was, too. Someone whose absence haunted her just as much as Nitro's presence.

Someone who mattered far more to her than any self-proclaimed A-lister-

Melina sucked in her breath sharply, her eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. Every time she thought about Jeff, or even the suggestion of him, her heart would clench within her chest, as though someone was crushing it into powder. It hurt, far worse than any bump she had taken in the ring, far greater than any slight she had ever suffered. That was why she needed to stay in motion, to keep focusing on the next item on her list, because every time she stopped moving; every time she paused and allowed herself to think about the younger Hardy brother, she wanted to die...

The paparazzi princess could sense figures moving past her; other Superstars skirting around her and giving her a wide berth. Melina didn't look up-she already knew what she would find in their expressions, and for once, the Dominant Diva had no desire to confront it head-on. The general opinions of the Raw and SmackDown rosters usually failed to interest her-she had always chalked their petty animosity up to jealousy-but now, for the first time, Melina didn't think she could absorb their judgment without breaking apart.

Partly because the thick skin she had once used to shield her emotions had taken such a beating in the past week that she was no longer certain of its ability to protect her...and partly because she doubted that the other Superstars and Divas hated her nearly as much as she despised herself.

As the paparazzi princess moved down the main corridor toward the locker room, she suddenly felt something; a ripple across her senses, as though something was calling them back into awareness. Melina's pace slowed, then stopped...and all at once, a wave of familiarity washed over her with such acuity that it snatched the air from her lungs.

The Dominant Diva whirled around, a startled gasp escaping her throat, her normally confident tone little more than a breathless whisper: "Jeff?"

The hallway was far from deserted, filled with Superstars, crew members, and other backstage personnel...but none of them was the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. The paparazzi princess stared at the sea of people, her expression sagging almost imperceptibly, before sighing softly and turning away.

As soon as she did so, however, she froze, unable to tear her gaze from the individual storming down the corridor toward her. Matt Hardy's normally amiable countenance was fixed into one of stony determination, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Melina felt all the breath abruptly leave her body, as though someone had just punched her in the stomach, and she was vaguely aware to two distinct yet unconnected thoughts.

The first was that her intuition hadn't been too far off; right family, wrong brother.

The second was that she was pretty sure-from the way Matt's face darkened with anger at the sight of her, the way his pace quickened as soon as he did-that the elder Hardy brother had come here looking for her.

The Dominant Diva looked around frantically, trying to find a possible avenue of escape; someplace she could duck into and elude the SmackDown Superstar's wrath. To her left stretched an empty hallway, and the paparazzi princess took it without thinking, walking quickly at first, then running, her suitcase rolling and bouncing unsteadily behind her.

She reached the end, turned the corridor...and immediately let out a low cry of disappointment when she discovered that she had run smack into a dead end. Her wail quickly morphed into a strangled shriek of fear as the elder Hardy brother's hand closed around her upper arm. Matt swung Melina around roughly, practically shoving her against the wall and tearing loose her grip on her suitcase. With his free hand, he knocked the cadet hat from her head, bringing his furious expression into full view.

For one terrifying second, the paparazzi princess was certain that Matt was going to hit her; that he was going to beat her senseless in this dead end, and no one would even bother to come to her aid. But the elder Hardy brother merely leaned in until his nose was nearly bumping hers, his dark eyes narrowed, spitting out words in a clipped murmur that was filled with far more self-control than his countenance would suggest: "You must be pretty fuckin' proud of yourself,"

Melina could only stare dumbly up at him. Matt rushed on, not even bothering to wait for a response. "It wasn't enough, was it? Cheating and stealing Jeff's title? No...you just had to mess with him, didn't you? You just had to manipulate him like you do everyone else, using whatever kind of fucked-up crush he's got on you to fuck with his head!"

The Dominant Diva looked away, biting her lip. Matt immediately grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him again. His thumb and index finger dug painfully into her jaw, but Melina refused to give the elder Hardy brother the satisfaction of seeing her flinch; merely stared mutely back at him.

Matt paused, drawing in a breath. There was a kind of cold hatred in his gaze-perhaps he was recalling all the times that MNM had screwed him over. His voice was low, so low that no one save the two of them could have heard it: "Let me ask you this-because I can't get a straight answer out of my brother one way or the other." His dark eyes bore into hers. "Did you sleep with him?"

Melina blinked in surprise, unable to believe that she was hearing this. The elder Hardy brother continued. "Huh? Did you actually carry the charade that far before you cut his balls off?" The SmackDown Superstar's expression hardened briefly, his eyes like glittering patches of black ice. "Because if you did, then you're a bigger whore than I thought-"

Anger tore through the Dominant DIva's tiny frame, so rapidly and unexpectedly that it burned through the damp haze of her misery. With a furious screech, Melina twisted free of Matt's grip, backing away from the elder Hardy brother. "Fuck you!" the paparazzi princess spat. She went on before the SmackDown Superstar could warp that particular epithet into another derogatory remark, jabbing herself in the chest with her index finger. "What do you want me to say? That it was my fault?" The Dominant Diva shrugged helplessly, throwing her arms out to either side. "Fine! It was my fault! It was my fault!"

At this, she thought she saw Matt's expression falter just a touch. Whatever he had been expecting from her during this exchange...it probably hadn't been this. The paparazzi princess continued. "Johnny stole that title from Jeff...and I-" Her voice quavered for a moment. "-I didn't do anything to stop it. I...let...it happen...and now...he hates me."

Melina stopped, hesitated...and then, without warning, her emotional floodgates burst, her delicate features crumbling as she began to bawl. "He hates me!" the Dominant Diva sobbed. "But not...nearly...as much...as I hate myself."

Still crying, she held out her hands toward the elder Hardy brother, the gesture almost pleading. "I hate feeling like this, do you understand? I would give anything not to feel like this! It's like..." She pressed her palm to her chest, her gaze sliding down toward the floor. "...like someone ripped my heart...right out of my chest."

The paparazzi princess slowly sank to her knees, still talking, her voice growing distant, almost faraway. "Every second that I spend with Johnny now...I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare, like I'm on some fucked-up carnival ride that won't stop spinning. And the only thing that's real anymore, the only thing that makes sense...is when I was with Jeff. But I don't know how to fix it; I don't know how to make it better..." Her voice broke again, and she fell silent, fresh tears brimming at the edges of her lashes, her gaze still fixed on the floor.

It was a long while before Matt spoke, and when he did, his voice was tight and emotionless. "Why should I believe a word you're saying?"

Melina looked up at him, her jaw dropping, her countenance incredulous. "I don't give a damn if you believe me or not!" she retorted, her tone just as stunned as her expression. She tilted her chin up a little, her own eyes narrowing. "But tell me...what reason do I have to lie?"

At this, the elder Hardy brother flinched, his mouth moving soundlessly for a moment or two before he finally succeeded in snapping it closed. As the anger momentarily drained from his expression, Melina thought she caught a flash of involuntary love in the edges of his gaze; the kind of protective affection that exists between siblings. Matt Hardy might not always get along with his younger brother...but it was obvious, evidenced by his very presence, that he would always fight for him.

Melina carefully got to her feet, picking up her discarded cap, neither expecting nor receiving any help from the elder Hardy brother. As much as she admired Matt's innate protectiveness toward his younger sibling, that didn't change the fact that he had chased her, thrown her against the wall, and read her the Riot Act without even bothering to consider that there might be another side to the story.

"You want the truth?" The paparazzi princess's voice was low but harsh. Her dark eyes flicked to the side, meeting Matt's. "I slept with Jeff." She wished she could have stopped to enjoy the almost comic look of surprise that swept over the elder Hardy brother's face, but the Dominant Diva was too busy barreling on, her tone growing bitter. "I slept with him...and it was the best goddamn night of my life!"

The words poured out of her mouth, picking up speed. "But I fucked it up. I fucked it all up...and now he hates me..." A pause. "...and now, I want to die."

Melina straightened up to her full height, staring into Matt's eyes with absolutely no intimidation now. "Are you happy?" she whispered, her voice gradually rising to a shout. "Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear, you son of a bitch?"

Her voice abruptly left her, and rather than face the SmackDown Superstar any longer, the paparazzi princess turned to go, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Before she could take a step, however, Matt's voice stopped her. "How long?"

The Dominant Diva took a deep breath, not turning around. "How long what?" she shot back roughly.

Matt's reply came a few seconds later, the sound of his voice soft, almost gentle: "How long...have you been in love with my brother?"

Just hearing it uttered, that one truth she could barely even admit to herself, was enough to make Melina's beautiful features collapse in pain. She pressed her hand over her mouth, trying to rein in her tears. "I don't know..." she admitted after a long while, her voice thick and choked. Then, in a slightly more dubious tone: "Why do you care?"

She heard Matt shift his weight on the balls of his feet, and somehow had the impression that he was tilting his chin up to study her more carefully. His tone was thoughtful, almost matter-of-fact: "Because maybe...I can help you."

At this, Melina whirled around, her jaw dropping, her eyes widening in shock. Matt went on, as though he'd done nothing more extreme than ask her to water his plants. "It won't be easy, though. First...you have to do something for me." He paused, the look in his eyes almost challenging. "Get my brother's title back."

The paparazzi princess's eyes grew even bigger; her jaw was practically scraping the ground. The elder Hardy brother continued. "Jeff told me...he's cashing in his rematch clause during the Raw broadcast from Manchester; make it then. If you can do that, then maybe I can do somethi-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Melina interrupted brusquely, waving her hand frantically for quiet. She had finally regained her voice. "Why-why are you helping me?" She peered critically at the SmackDown Superstar, wondering if she had just hallucinated this part of the conversation.

Matt held up his index finger, like a teacher about to make a very important point. "Let's get one thing straight: I'm not doing this for you. As far as I'm concerned, I don't trust, like, or feel sorry for you...and I don't see any reason to change that opinion, no matter what my brother says."

Melina gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to smack the elder Hardy brother right across his holier-than-thou countenance. "Then why are you?" she shot back, her tone just as defiant as his.

The SmackDown Superstar stared at her for a moment, and in that instant, his features softened a touch, infused with that protective affection she had glimpsed earlier. "Because my brother's in pain," he gradually replied, his voice slow and regretful. "And I hate seeing him in pain...and because, as crazy as it sounds, I just can't shake this idea that you're the only one who can make it go away. Like...for some reason, you're each what the other one needs."

Melina gazed back at him, and for a second, something, some mutual understanding, passed between them...but in the next, it was gone. The elder Hardy brother looked down, coughing impatiently. "Like I said, get my brother's title back first. Then...I'll see what I can do." Without adding anything further, he eased around her, going back the way he had entered.

The Dominant Diva watched him depart, feeling an unfamiliar sensation welling up inside her; it took her a moment or two to realize that it was hope. The last time she had felt like this, it had been the day after Cyber Sunday. She had been standing in a strip mall parking lot, staring up into Jeff's emerald eyes-

But she couldn't afford to dwell on that at the moment. Right now, all of her focus needed to be on the new item on her checklist, the latest agenda that Matt Hardy had set for her. Because things could never go back to the way they had been; she understood that now. She should have realized during the night she spent in Jeff's arms that they were both lost now, that they had both crossed a line they could never return back over.

On that night, he had been ready to fight for her...perhaps it was time that she fought for him. Somehow, in three days, she was going to walk down to that ring as Johnny Nitro's manager...and help Jeff Hardy win his Intercontinental Championship back.

There was only one problem, as far as she could see.

She had no idea how she was going to do it.