A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I think this is actually within a decent amount of time for me. This chapter was a LOOONG one, and it took me 'til the early morning to finish it, but I powered through it, because I was incredibly excited about this chapter, and because you're all awesome. I do apologize for any errors: I proofread, I really do, but sometimes, I am the g'd mayor of Typo City. So, please, enjoy! Peace!
A/A/N: The song lyrics are by Papa Roach; all rights, etc. belong to them.
Thank you to Esha Napoleon, extremist, TheEnglishRejects, m-yaz, D Torres, Lucy Grayson, and nightmarelover for reviewing the last chapter! Love yas!
Chapter 13: She Loves Me Not
When I see her eyes
Look into my eyes
And I realize that she can see inside my head
So I close my eyes
Thinking that I could hide
Disassociate so I don't have to lose my head...
Jeff leaned back against the side of the semi, hands in pockets, sweatshirt hood up, listening to the sounds of Papa Roach blasting into his ears. The Monday Night Raw broadcast was just starting, but thanks to that douchelord Jonathan Coachman, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior wasn't even booked in a match that evening. Since that left him with the option of either tooling around backstage or tooling around outside, the Charismatic Enigma had opted for outside, settling for strolling between the shadowy behemoth forms of the equipment trucks. Here, out in the fresh air, with the faint vibrations of machinery beneath his feet and the louder vibrations of guitars and drums in his head, he could think about where to go next in what was fast becoming a losing quest to win the Intercontinental Championship.
Jeff was painfully aware that last week's match had probably been his last shot at the title--any opportunity after this would be nothing short of a miracle. There had always been an unspoken "three strikes and you're out" rule in this business when it came to title matches--and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had already blown through his three strikes. Maybe if Shane McMahon had been here, he might have been able to negotiate his way into another title opportunity. But Shane wasn't here. He and the Chairman had both been AWOL since their Hell in a Cell match at Unforgiven, leaving Coachman in charge. Coach didn't like Jeff, and made no attempts to disguise his dislike--hence his omission from the broadcast tonight. Sure, he could always be patient and wait for the McMahons to return, but who knew when that would be? And even if he did get his title shot--who was to say that Johnny Nitro would still be the champion by then?
What's this really about, Jeff? The irritating inner voice was back, tempting the Charismatic Enigma to shove the business end of a power drill into his ear socket. This rivalry with Nitro--is it REALLY about the Intercontinental Title...or about taking him down a peg?
Jeff gritted his teeth. "Does it matter?" he shot back. "The guy's a dick. He's arrogant, he's obnoxious, he--" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated in mid-sentence.
...he treats his girlfriend like shit...had been what he meant to say--but the younger Hardy brother couldn't allow himself to voice that to anyone, not even to a disembodied voice that existed solely inside his head.
All right...The voice, not easily placated, went on. Say you beat him. Say you become the Intercontinental Champion. Say Nitro blows his rematch, and afterwards, the two of you go back to having nothing to do with each other again. What then? Are you just going to forget about Melina? Forget about what he's doing to her?
"In case you haven't noticed," the Charismatic Enigma retorted. "Melina's a Grade-A bitch. It's not my fault or my problem that her boyfriend's a complete d-bag." The younger Hardy brother shook his head. "Besides--I have a girlfriend already."
Yeah, but that didn't stop you from making out with Melina when you had the chance...
Jeff shook his head again, trying to keep the memories from spilling back into his consciousness. "That was--"
--A mistake. Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying. Tell me something, then, Jeffro--The voice sounded almost gleeful--You weren't the one who was drunk...so why'd you kiss her in the first place?
"Because..." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior's voice faltered for a moment. He stared straight ahead, focusing on the red-and-white WWE logo emblazoning the side of the truck in front of him, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them: "Because...I wanted to."
A flicker of movement at the corners of his vision jolted him out of his one-sided dialogue, and Jeff turned toward its source, grateful for anything that would distract him from this present train of thought. Staying within the shadows cast by the semis, he moved closer to the back entrance of the arena. Rounding the corner, the Charismatic Enigma stopped, his green eyes fastened to the two figures a few yards away.
Triple H and Shawn were too focused on depositing a limp body into a nearby trash wheelbarrow to notice the younger Hardy brother's presence. Even though it was dark, and the two members of D-Generation-X were blocking the majority of the view, Jeff still recognized the unconscious figure as Raw's Executive Assistant.
The Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt the corner of his mouth curl upward in a grin. He didn't know what Coach had done to bring the wrath of DX down upon him--but he certainly deserved it.
Handing the wheelbarrow off to a loitering arena worker, the two Superstars dusted their hands off, laughing and slapping each other affectionately on the back. Jeff remained where he was, unsure whether he should try and sidle unobtrusively toward the arena or slip back into the shadows. But then, Triple H turned, spotting the Charismatic Enigma, and Jeff realized that neither option was a possibility at this point. The Cerebral Assassin nudged his partner, who turned as well, and both Superstars immediately began walking toward him.
The younger Hardy brother pulled the ear buds out of his ears, shoving them back into his sweatshirt pocket, as he struggled to think of something to say. He still didn't really know where he stood on the whole DX issue. Part of him (a large part, in fact) respected the faction's rebellious spirit and their ability to get under authority's skin. But another part of him, the facet of his personality that had been tempered from experience, knew that openly supporting D-Generation-X could lead to his second stint with the WWE ending before it really began.
Triple H was talking now, his voice traveling easily across the open lot. "Jeff Hardy!" The Game turned to his partner, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Look, Shawn--it's Jeff Hardy!" The Heartbreak Kid merely smiled and nodded. Triple H looked back at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "Big fan of what you do; enjoyed your match last week." The Cerebral Assassin shook his head sympathetically. "Tough break on how it ended."
"Shame, really," Shawn chimed in.
"And I'll bet Coach didn't even have the courtesy to book you in a match tonight," Triple H continued smoothly without missing a beat. Both members of D-Generation-X shook their heads, tsking. The Game shot a cautious look over his shoulder, then glanced back at Jeff. "By the way...about what you just saw--"
The Charismatic Enigma held up his hands, shrugging. "Hey, the only thing I saw was you two taking out the trash."
Both Triple H and Shawn's faces immediately lit up in pleased grins at Jeff's comment. The Cerebral Assassin laughed, stepping forward to whack him on the back, so hard that he almost knocked the younger Hardy brother over. "I knew there was a reason we liked this guy, Shawn!" the Game exclaimed. "We should do something for him. Tell me, Jeff--" Triple H turned back toward the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "--since you're our new best friend and all, and since--with Coach gone--DX is running things...is there anything we can do for you?" The Cerebral Assassin smiled, cracking his knuckles. "You know, match-wise?"
Jeff returned the grin, reaching up to stroke his chin. This was the opportunity that he had been hoping for. "Well...now that you mention it...this is one thing..."
"What?"
Nitro leaped out of his chair, his mouth hanging open, staring aghast at the two Superstars across from him. The two Superstars who had just told him he would be defending his title tonight against Jeff Hardy. Next to him, Melina sat stock-still in her chair, equally shocked, her hands gripping the armrests so hard that her knuckles flushed white.
After a few seconds of silence, followed by a few more of incomprehensible stuttering, the Intercontinental Champion found his voice. "Are you kidding me?" the self-proclaimed A-lister exclaimed. He ran his hands through his blond-streaked hair, pushing it back from his face. "How many times do I have to beat this guy before you'll just accept that I'm better than him?"
Nitro began ticking items off on his fingers as he went on. "I beat him on Raw. I beat him at Unforgiven. Hell, I beat him and five other guys last week in a Six-Pack Challenge--"
As far as Melina could tell, Triple H's expression never changed--but yet, somehow now, there was something about his eyes, about his posture, that seemed harder, more intimidating. The smile never left his face, but the Dominant Diva could feel the tension in the room suddenly ratchet upward several levels. Nitro must have sensed it too, because he snapped his mouth shut, choosing to sit down and cross his arms petulantly over his chest.
"Are you finished?" the Game asked mildly. There was no response from either member of the A-list couple. The Cerebral Assassin cleared his throat. "See, the thing is, Johnny-boy--those matches were made by Jonathan Coachman and the McMahons. In case you haven't noticed--" Triple H gestured at the office, which had already been defaced with several examples of D-Generation-X's neon-green trademark. "--tonight, DX is running the show. And what we're telling you is: you're going to go down to that ring tonight, and defend your Intercontinental Championship against Jeff Hardy."
Triple H shot a look at his partner before turning his attention back to Nitro and Melina. "Of course, if you have any objections, you and I could always discuss it--" The Game reached down behind the desk, and Melina actually heard Nitro gulp as the former World Champion's trusty sledgehammer came into view. The Cerebral Assassin went on, his tone still casual. "--in private, of course. Where there aren't any cameras...or witnesses."
The paparazzi princess heard her boyfriend open his mouth to respond, and quickly sprang to her feet, grabbing onto Johnny's shoulder and sinking her nails into his skin. "All right!" the Dominant Diva exclaimed through clenched teeth. "Enough already! He'll wrestle the damn match!"
Nitro looked up at her, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Mel, what're you--"
Melina shot the Intercontinental Champion a Look. "Johnny, come on," the paparazzi princess hissed under her breath. "He's got a hammer."
For a moment or two, Nitro continued to stare at her, still unable to believe she had thrown him under the bus so readily. But eventually, the self-proclaimed A-lister realized the futility of the situation and rose to his feet, shooting both members of DX a fierce glare in the process. "This is ridiculous," the Intercontinental Champion snarled. "As soon as Mr. McMahon gets back--I'm filing a formal protest."
"You do that," the Cerebral Assassin replied cheerfully, seemingly unfazed by the threat. Grabbing Melina's hand, Nitro led her roughly to the door, but just as he was about to open it, Triple H added: "Don't worry, Johnny-boy, it won't be all bad. After all, we're still gonna let you bring your slut to ringside." At this, the Heartbreak Kid winced, and leaning down, whispered something in his partner's ear. The Game listened, nodding thoughtfully. "Oh, sorry--your girlfriend."
At this, Melina felt a hot spike of rage pierce her insides, and for a moment, she was on the verge of crossing the room and slapping the former 10-time Champion right across the face. But in the next instant, the Dominant Diva managed to regain control of herself. As cathartic as doing so would feel, it would only make things worse for her and Johnny. So the paparazzi princess settled for scowling at Triple H, opening the door and shoving her boyfriend out into the hallway.
As soon as they were both in the corridor and the door had clicked shut softly behind them, the Intercontinental Champion whirled around, glaring at his girlfriend. "What the fuck just happened in there?" Nitro demanded. "How could you do that to me, Mel? How could you just sit there and let them stick me in a title match against that psycho?"
Melina stared up at her boyfriend, feeling the rage inside her swell beyond the breaking point. For a week, she had been holding back her anger, her hurt, and her resentment, and before she could stop herself, she had jammed her face into Nitro's, her voice cold and brittle: "Oh. My. God. Johnny, he had a fucking sledgehammer! What was I supposed to do? Oh, and did you not see the way he was leering at me the entire time?" The Dominant Diva's lip curled in disgust. "I have a pretty good idea what I would have had to do to him to get you out of that match!"
The anger drained from Nitro's expression, and for a moment, he looked stunned. When he eventually regained his voice, his tone was tentative. "If it would have gotten me out of the match...would you have done it?"
The paparazzi princess felt her jaw drop. She stared, speechless, at the Intercontinental Champion, unable to believe what she had just heard. "Unbelievable," Melina finally managed to whisper. Her voice was shaking, both with fury and with unshed tears. "You are...unbelievable." She moved back a step, her legs numb beneath her. "You know what? Go. Just go." She pointed down the hall toward the gorilla position. "Enjoy wrestling that match by yourself!" Spinning on her heel, Melina turned and stormed away in the opposite direction.
She instantly heard Nitro's frantic footsteps behind her, followed by his hand gripping her arm. "Mel, wait!" the self-proclaimed A-lister pleaded. "I didn't mean it! It was just a joke; that's all! I was only kidding!"
Melina didn't reply, but didn't resist as Nitro gently turned her around to face him. "I need you, Mel," the Intercontinental Champion murmured. "You're all I've got." He gently touched her cheek, his fingers grazing her skin. "I need you..." Nitro repeated, dipping his head down to kiss her.
Melina averted her face, so that Nitro's intended smooch landed on her jaw instead of her lips. "All right," the Dominant Diva replied flatly. She still refused to look at her boyfriend. "Let's just get this over with."
For a moment, Nitro seemed puzzled by her show of coldness, but he quickly shrugged it off, wrapping his arms around Melina and pulling her into his embrace. The paparazzi princess leaned against him like dead weight, her arms hanging limply at her sides. "Don't worry, Mel," the self-proclaimed A-lister promised, seemingly unaware of his girlfriend's unresponsiveness. "After tonight, everything's going to go back to the way it was. Tonight...I'm gonna end Jeff Hardy's career."
Jeff grabbed two handfuls of Nitro's highlighted hair, hurling him over the top rope and back into the ring. A few feet below him, Melina shrieked and spewed her disapproval, but the Charismatic Enigma paid her no mind. His title bout with Nitro had turned into an all-out war. Already, he'd missed a Whisper in the Wind, had his arms and back stretched to near-excruciating limits, and been slammed jaw-first into the turnbuckle post.
But the Rainbow-Haired could feel it; that almost-imperceptible shift in momentum, which would slowly but surely swing the match in his favor. All he had to do was keep up the pace--and somehow simultaneously block out and keep an eye on the screaming banshee at ringside.
Jeff dropped to the ring, locking his legs over Nitro's in a pinning combination. Referee Chad Patton dropped to the mat, slamming his hand to the canvas for the count.
1...2...
Incredibly, Nitro somehow summoned the strength to flip his body under and out of the pin. Panting and pulling himself along with his hands, the Intercontinental Champion crawled to the corner, using the ropes to pull himself up. Once he had righted himself, he turned and lunged at Jeff with an intended clothesline, but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior easily ducked it. Leaping with ease onto the top of the turnbuckle, the younger Hardy brother launched himself back and over with his second Whisper in the Wind.
This time, the self-proclaimed A-lister didn't have the chance to dive out of the way. Jeff nailed it perfectly, sending both of them crashing to the mat. The impact briefly knocked the air out of his lungs, but the Charismatic Enigma fought through it, rolling Nitro over, hooking his leg for the pin.
1...2...
Jeff let out a low growl of frustration as Nitro kicked out yet again. As much as he despised the Intercontinental Champion, he had to hand it to him; the pretty-boy had some pretty deep reservoirs of toughness. The self-proclaimed A-lister slithered out from under him, crawling to the ropes and pulling himself to his feet. Jeff immediately attacked him, grabbing Nitro's arm and swinging him into an Irish whip. The Intercontinental Champion flew across the ring, but just as he hit the ropes, he suddenly dropped to his knees, then his stomach, as someone yanked him out of the ring.
For an instant, Jeff froze, frowning a little in bewilderment, but then he saw the mane of red, blond, and brown hair, and knew instantly what was happening: Melina, once again making sure that her meal ticket wasn't too badly bruised. Jeff could see her obvious concern from the other side of the ring, the way she gently touched her boyfriend's face...
...Melina's head lolling backward as she stared blearily up at him, her skin a sickly greenish-white...
...Johnny? He left me...
The younger Hardy brother's green eyes narrowed, his vision clamping down into red as he launched his lean frame across the ring. Grabbing onto the ropes, he swung his body between them, catching Nitro right in the jaw with a nicely placed mule kick.
Melina shrieked, immediately dropping to her knees to check on her boyfriend, but the Charismatic Enigma barely took notice. He was too busy climbing out of the ring--ignoring Patton's protests--jumping up onto the black security barrier and taking a moment to steady himself.
Even though it had been a while since he had run the rails, Jeff's equilibrium adjusted almost instantly. To him, the narrow width of the security barrier seemed as broad as the entrance ramp. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior ran along the curve of the barrier, launching himself up and directly at Nitro.
Just as he was airborne, however, Jeff realized that Nitro was not alone, that Melina was directly behind him. The Charismatic Enigma tried to shout, tried to yell out a warning, but it was all happening to fast, and the most he was able to get out of his mouth was a garbled Get out of the way...
And then came the impact, and it was too late to say anything else.
All three of them hit the floor; Jeff immediately rolling off Nitro and onto the bottom of the entrance ramp, getting to his feet. The Intercontinental Champion had taken the brunt of the damage, as intended, allowing the younger Hardy brother to survey the damage. His emerald irises rapidly focused on Melina, and Jeff let out a low sigh of relief when he saw that the Dominant Diva had apparently managed to dive out of the way just in time. But then he saw her wince, and realized that one of her ankles was caught beneath Nitro's prone figure.
For a moment, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated, caught between his desire to win the match, and his instinct to help her, to tend to her. But the moment soon passed, and Jeff eventually looked away, forced himself to.
Melina had chosen this road long before she had met him--and as long as they were out here, they were enemies. Nothing would ever change that.
The Charismatic Enigma focused instead on grabbing the Intercontinental Champion by the hair, pulling him off the floor and throwing him back into the ring. Nitro hit the mat and rolled once or twice, but generally remained out of it. Jeff entered the ring, then climbed the turnbuckle, pausing for a moment to take it all in. It didn't seem possible that he was here, on this night, only one Swanton away from winning the Intercontinental title.
He stole a glance over his shoulder. Melina had recovered sufficiently to pull herself to her knees, and crawling over to the steel steps, pulled herself gingerly to her feet. Turning, she took in the scene--Nitro on the mat, Jeff ready to deliver the Swanton. Her brown eyes grew wide, and she instantly began screaming: "No! No!"
Jeff felt a bitter smile touch the corner of his mouth. "Sorry, princess," he whispered.
And then he dove.
For Jeff, it felt as though life had been reduced to slo-mo. He could feel every turn of the flip as he fell toward the mat. Everything--the cheers of the fans, Melina's screams--everything died away into silence, and all he could hear was the slow, steady beat of his own heart. When he connected with Nitro's body, the impact didn't seem as agonizing as it usually was. With effort, feeling like he was moving through a thick, viscous fluid, Jeff grabbed Nitro's leg, hooking it for the pin. Patton was beside him, slamming his hand to the mat; each thud seemed to last an eternity.
1...2...3...
For a second, the younger Hardy brother was sure that he was dreaming; that he was going to wake up in his hotel room only to find that none of this had taken place. But then reality rushed back in with a WOOOSH, bringing with it the screaming fans and the roar of his entrance music, along with Lillian Garcia's voice announcing him as the new Intercontinental Champion, and he realized that this, this was no dream.
The Charismatic Enigma staggered to his feet, stumbling over to the referee, who had already retrieved the blue-and-gold title belt. Jeff accepted it reverently, with hands that were trembling slightly. Nitro's name was still inscribed on the name plate, but that didn't really concern Jeff. Tonight, thousands of fans here in Topeka and millions more around the world had seen him finally defeat that pretty-boy asshole Johnny Nitro and become the new Intercontinental Champion.
Jeff climbed one turnbuckle, then another, stealing equal glances at both the sea of fans before him and his newly-won Championship. It all seemed so surreal, almost too surreal to be actually happening. Jumping down off the turnbuckle post, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior strolled over to the ropes, watching with intense pleasure as the now former Intercontinental Champion--God, he would never get tired of saying that--backed up the ramp, his girlfriend in tow.
Nitro clutched his midsection, obviously still feeling the effects of the Swanton. The Look of Death he was currently shooting the younger Hardy brother was so comical that Jeff almost wanted to burst out laughing. Then, the Charismatic Enigma's gaze slid over to Melina, and his amusement faded a touch.
The paparazzi princess was limping badly, favoring her uninjured ankle. The spike heels she was wearing clearly weren't doing her any favors, and she seemed to be holding onto Nitro's arm more out of concern for her personal safety than any show of support.
Deep down, underneath all his elation, all his satisfaction, Jeff felt the smallest twinge of regret--but he quickly forced it away. He had taken Melina out of the equation; that was all. If he hadn't done it, the Dominant Diva would have found a way to screw him out of yet another title match.
Besides, Melina hated him...right? I don't like you, you don't like me...and that is never going to change...Wasn't that what she had told him?
She loves me not...the Rainbow-Haired Warrior thought to himself, and had to bite his lip to hold back the laughter that immediately burbled up inside him. Instead, he settled for holding up the title triumphantly, knowing that was going to piss the A-list pair off even more.
A month ago, he had stood in this ring, watching as Nitro and Melina retreated up the ramp. But this time...things were different.
This time...he had the belt.
This wasn't supposed to happen...
Those five words kept running through Melina's head, echoing over and over like some kind of accusatory mantra--as though their very presence would justify what had happened. Or better yet...nullify it.
The Dominant Diva pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to assuage the throbbing in her temples. She was still trying to piece together what had happened in those last few minutes--everything was still a blur. She had been outside the ring, checking on Johnny, trying to determine if they could get away with a count-out victory...And then there had been falling, and impact, and pain, as something heavy landed on her ankle, twisting it awkwardly.
And then, when she had pulled herself up, there had been Johnny, flat on his back in the ring, while Jeff Hardy stared down at him from the top of the ring post, preparing to deliver that lethal swan dive of his. He had looked at her, she was sure of it, in that instant before he dove. And--this was less certain, but she was even more sure of it--he had smiled at her. The fucker had smiled at her--as though to say Hey princess, watch me while I mess up your boyfriend...
And she had watched; she'd had no choice but to watch. She'd been powerless to do anything as the Rainbow-Haired Warrior dove toward the mat, and in three brief seconds, had ended her boyfriend's reign as Intercontinental Champion.
None of this was supposed to happen. There was no way that any of this was happening. Any minute now, she was going to wake up in her bed, next to Johnny, and find that he was still Intercontinental Champion--and Jeff Hardy had never come back to the WWE.
Melina's brown eyes narrowed. This was all Jeff Hardy's fault. Everything--not just Johnny's title loss, but everything that had preceded it--was the Charismatic Enigma's fault. Which was why she was going to find him...and make him pay.
Oh, boy, was she going to make him pay.
Melina limped down the hallway, gritting her teeth every time her foot made contact with the floor. She had abandoned her spike heels, but that wasn't enough to keep a bolt of pain from shooting up her leg every time she put weight on that foot. She didn't know where Johnny was; she had sort of shoved him in the direction of the trainer's room and dashed off. Right now, nothing, not Johnny's discomfort nor her own, was enough to distract the paparazzi princess from her vengeful quest.
The Dominant Diva reached the outskirts of the interview area, her steps slowing and her pulse accelerating when she heard Jeff's low Southern drawl. Moving closer, she saw the younger Hardy brother, his back to her, Johnny's title belt on his shoulder, being interviewed by none other than that bimbo girlfriend of his.
Just seeing the two of them, so clearly a couple despite the rolling cameras, made Melina think of her own relationship...and how it was disintegrating. She focused on Maria, clad in some skimpy top and skirt made out of a repulsive shiny turquoise material that made her look more like a cheap hooker than a Diva. The paparazzi princess's lips pulled back from her teeth. Maria was an idiot, and while she was pretty--in the way that all WWE Divas were pretty--she certainly wasn't beautiful.
What did she have; what quality could she possibly possess that made her so appealing? What did Jeff Hardy see in her?
The Rainbow-Haired Warrior was speaking, his voice pulling Melina back to the present. "--now that I have this, I know I'm a target!" Jeff tapped the title belt on his shoulder. He sounded rushed, out of breath. The Charismatic Enigma went on. "Guys like Carlito, Chris Masters, Shelton Benjamin--hell, I even know Nitro's gonna want a rematch for this! Everyone's gonna want to strip me of my belt!" The younger Hardy practically shouted the last word, and then abruptly fell silent, as though daring Maria to challenge this claim.
"Strip?" the backstage reporter chirped brightly. "I know what you mean by 'strip'! Because..." Maria paused, and Melina felt the bile rise in her throat at the seductive tone in the other Diva's voice. "...I don't know if you know this or not, but next week, I'm going to ECW for Extreme Strip Poker!"
Oh please...the Dominant Diva thought to herself, rolling her eyes. If she had to listen to one more second of this bullshit, she was going to throw up all over herself. Jeff was talking--"You in Extreme Strip Poker? I know I gotta see that--but Melina was already moving forward, grabbing the younger Hardy brother's arm, whirling him around to face her.
"What you're gonna see?" the paparazzi princess interrupted, her dark eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "You know what you're gonna see? You're gonna see Johnny Nitro get this championship back--" She tapped the title belt; her fingernail made a dull pinging noise when it connected with the metal. "--that's what you're gonna see!"
She was painfully aware that she was babbling, stringing her words together without care or concern as to how they sounded. From the smile playing at the corners of Jeff's mouth, it was evident that he had noticed it too. Just this small indication of his amusement was enough to infuse Melina with a fresh surge of rage, and she opened her mouth, stammering out sentence fragments: "I...you know what...I'm...we're not...um...ah--"
Then, all at once, her self-control gave way, and Melina screamed, a wordless primal scream filled with all her hatred, all her anger--and all those other emotions that she couldn't identify, but which the Rainbow-Haired Warrior always seemed to evoke. Clenching her hands into fists at her sides, the Dominant Diva screamed again.
And again.
And again.
She had no idea how long she stood there, shrieking out her frustration, before a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, silencing her cries. Melina tried to scream, but all that came out were a few muffled cries. Furious, she looked toward her silencer--her brown eyes widening when they met Jeff's emerald ones.
The younger Hardy brother regarded her with a kind of solemn impassiveness. Slowly, deliberately, he removed his hand from her mouth, as if to say So...are you going to behave now?... The paparazzi princess felt her chest grow tight, and she screamed once again, right in his face this time.
Instantly, Jeff's hand was back over her mouth, but this time, the Dominant Diva twisted out of his grasp, continuing to scream, her piercing cries echoing off the walls. Maria winced, holding her ear with one hand, while actually using the other to hold the microphone up to Melina's mouth, as though this was some sort of important sound bite.
Behind her, the Charismatic Enigma rolled his eyes, and Melina thought she heard him murmur: "Fuck this..." before he stalked off. But the paparazzi princess didn't care; she just kept screaming until her throat was sore, until her energy was spent, and she was gasping for breath.
Melina finally felt silent, and bent over, putting her hands on her knees and trying to suck oxygen back into her body. She heard a low giggle, and looked up to see the backstage reporter smirking--actually smirking--at her. "So...Melina..." Maria remarked, her bubbly tone just a trifle malicious. "Anything else you'd like to say to the WWE fans?"
Melina's lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl. With a low growl of rage, she reached out, shoving Maria as hard as she could. The backstage reporter fell backwards, her mouth a perfect "O" of surprise, still clutching onto her precious microphone--but Melina was already gone, storming away in search of Jeff Hardy.
It didn't take her long to find him; turning left into a dimly lit deserted hallway, she spotted him about halfway down it. The paparazzi princess strode toward him, the pain in her ankle irrelevant for once. "I'm not finished with you, Hardy!" she snarled through gritted teeth.
The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stopped, but didn't turn around. His voice, when he spoke, sounded more frustrated than anything else. "You know, princess, I'm starting to get a little sick of this."
Melina grabbed his arm, turning him around yet again, forcing him to face her. "Enjoy this while it lasts," the Dominant Diva retorted, slapping the Intercontinental Championship with the palm of her hand. "Because once Johnny gets his rematch--"
With a swiftness that startled even her, the younger Hardy brother grabbed her hand, pulling it off the belt. The instant he touched her, heat ripped through her body, and Melina gasped, yanking her hand free. Jeff didn't seem to notice; his green eyes were bright with anger. "Princess, I'm amazed your boyfriend could even focus on that match tonight--especially since all he seems to care about is fucking other women."
Melina's face went slack, and all the fury drained out of her expression. Holding her hand--the one Jeff had grabbed--to her chest, she backed away a pace, staring aghast at the new Intercontinental Champion. No one knew, no one even suspected (save a few jealous Divas)--but yet somehow, Jeff Hardy, her worst enemy, knew about her boyfriend's infidelity. Just hearing it, the cold hard truth about Nitro, spoken by a voice other than her own, was enough to shatter the few remaining self-delusions that had been protecting her since last week. There was no denying it. There was no other way to address it other than what it was.
Johnny was cheating on her...
Johnny was cheating on her...
Johnny was cheating on her...
Jeff must have taken her reaction for disbelief, because he kept going. "What? You thought I didn't know? Princess, my guess is that everyone knows--and maybe if you weren't such a stuck-up bitch, they'd actually feel sorry for you." There was a sort of resigned enthusiasm in the Charismatic Enigma's voice, as though he was getting no real pleasure out of the things he was saying. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. His face was only a few inches from hers; she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "How do it feel, princess, knowing that he doesn't care about you?"
"Stop." the paparazzi princess whispered in a voice already half-choked with tears.
Jeff didn't seem to hear her. "How does it feel, knowing that the one person you sacrificed everything for doesn't give a damn about you?"
"Stop it."
"Face facts, princess," Jeff had moved even closer; another inch, and his lips would touch hers. Melina knew that they shouldn't be standing like this, that anyone could walk into this hallway and get the wrong idea, but she couldn't move. She was too captivated by the younger Hardy brother's presence, his voice--even his words, painful as they were to hear.
Jeff went on. "No one cares about you--except..." He hesitated for a second or two, leaning forward until his mouth grazed her ear. What he said next shocked Melina ever more than his admitted knowledge of Johnny's infidelity.
"...Except for me. I care. For some reason...I care a lot."
And then he was pulling away, turning his back to her, continuing his aimless trek down the hallway. Melina stared after him for a second, and before she knew what she was doing, she was chasing after him, running despite the pain in her ankle.
"Jeff!"
The Rainbow-Haired Warrior turned, letting out an impatient sigh. "What is it now, princ--"
That was all he got out before Melina kissed him.
For a moment, the younger Hardy brother was too shocked to respond, but in the next instant, instinct took over, and he shrugged the Intercontinental title off his shoulder, shoving Melina against the wall as he returned the kiss. Melina wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Her tongue was in his mouth, touching his, tasting his. Jeff slowly ran his hands down her body, lingering on her soft curves, and feeling a small thrill course through him at hearing the moan that escaped from Melina's throat. With a low groan of his own, he lifted her up, nestling her body more firmly against his, feeling her legs wrap instinctively around his waist. Unconsciously, he began to grind against her as they kissed, incited by Melina's soft gasps, wanting more than just this, wanting--
Wanting her.
The two of them abruptly broke apart, gasping for breath. Jeff reached up, touched her face, running his thumb over her lower lip, swollen from kissing. Melina looked at him; her eyes were barely visible in the dim light. "Did you enjoy that?" the Dominant Diva whispered; she, like him, seemed to be having trouble talking.
Jeff nodded, still barely able to breathe. "Yeah..." He leaned in for another kiss, but Melina pressed her fingers to his lips, preventing him.
"Good." The paparazzi princess abruptly disentangled her arms and legs from around him, lowering herself to the floor. Without looking at him, she smoothed down her skirt, straightened her top, adjusted her hair. Once this was accomplished, she glanced back up at the Charismatic Enigma. Jeff couldn't be sure, but he almost got the impression that she was...smiling. "Because this...will never happen again."
The implication of her words slammed into Jeff like a load of bricks, and he quickly took a step toward her. "Melina--" But the Dominant Diva was already gone, running down the hallway, turning a corner and disappearing from his sight.
Jeff stared after her, wondering what had just happened. One moment, it had been hatred as usual, and the next...everything had changed.
She had kissed him. He had taken her boyfriend's title, insulted her meal ticket, destroyed her safe and comfortable reality, and called her a bitch--and her response had been to kiss him. Why do that; why go through that...
...unless there was something there. Something real.
Melina had told him that what had just transpired would never happen again--but Jeff wasn't so sure. He could see taste her lips, could still feel her body beneath his hands. And her eyes... When he had looked into her eyes, he had seen pure, intense desire gleaming in their dark depths--desire that he understood all too well.
She wanted him. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.
Jeff closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. Right now, it didn't matter that he was the Intercontinental Champion, or that he had a gorgeous girlfriend waiting to congratulate him. All that matter was this single moment of clarity; this instant of comprehension as he realized what---or rather, who--it was that he really wanted.
And in that moment, Jeff Hardy knew that, for him, nothing would ever be the same again.