A/N: NEW CHAPTER! This was one of those chapter where I almost didn't want to write it, mostly because I was impatient to tell what comes after. But I slogged through it anyway, and here we are. Oh, and sorry about the wait. I just moved YET again, and am still in the process of settling in. Oh, and typos! I hope there are none! Okay, I think that's it. ENJOY! PEACE!
A/A/N: The song lyrics are from "You Wanted More" by Tonic - all rights, etc. belong to them.
Thank you to Normal Chick, cherrycokerocks, MelinaJeff, PrettyReckless09, x thelovelythings, Esha Napoleon, kyahbell, GiGi 501, extremist, BigRedMachineUK, Nightmare, and R Lucas Spitfire for your reviews! I love you ALL!
Chapter 26: You Wanted More
I don't know when I got bitter, but love is surely better when it's gone...
Jeff gingerly lay back on the hotel double bed, grimacing as he did so. The Charismatic Enigma had never walked - or, in most cases, limped - away from any ladder match feeling exceptionally great, but for some reason, tonight's bout against Johnny Nitro for the Intercontinental Championship seemed to have taken even more out of him.
On one level, the discomfort ravaging his body was understandable - after all, he'd taken a lot of hard bumps during that match. There wasn't one part of his lean frame that hadn't made contact with the ladder - from a failed Swanton attempt, to a shot to the gut, to an instance where he had actually caught the metal steps awkwardly on his neck and shoulders seconds before eating a dropkick to the face.
But in the back of his mind, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior knew that the exhaustion currently weighing him down was due to more than just the sheer physicality of the bout. There had been an intensity in Nitro tonight; a viciousness that had never once surfaced in all of their prior match-ups - Jeff had felt it in every single one of the self-proclaimed A-lister's punches and kicks. It was as though the animosity that had been brewing between the two men for more than two months had finally boiled over; no longer about the Intercontinental Championship, but simply just...personal.
Truthfully, the younger Hardy brother didn't much mind; as far as he was concerned, his hostility toward Johnny Nitro had become personal a long time ago. In some ways, it was almost ironic that he was still the Champion - because, of the two of them during that match, only Nitro had been concerned about the scrap of gold and leather dangling above the ring...while Jeff's focus had been on something infinitely more precious.
Or rather, on someone watching from outside the ropes.
The soft, almost musical clink of ice cubes jarred the Charismatic Enigma back to the present, and with effort, he turned his head toward the sound. Melina set the ice bucket down on the nightstand, her slender fingers deftly plucking out rough cubes of frozen water and depositing them in a plastic sandwich baggie. Once the bag was full, she sealed it up, wrapping a towel around it and flattening it out a little between her palms.
Just witnessing her simple gesture of tenderness - just as he had once done for her; for no other reason than to ease his pain - the Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt a warm rush of love and desire shoot through his veins like liquid sunshine. and he turned over onto his side, trying to edge nearer to her. Unfortunately, the act of doing so caused his already-bruised spine to twist uncomfortably, sending agonizing twinges shooting up his neck, and Jeff was unable to bite back a sharp hiss of pain.
At the sound, Melina looked up, her beautiful face instantly creasing in concern at the younger Hardy brother's discomfort. Makeshift ice pack in hand, she moved around to the other side of the bed, climbing onto the mattress and carefully inching over to where the Charismatic Enigma lay.
Jeff felt her hands touch his shoulders...and then let out an involuntary pain-filled yelp as the Dominant Diva pulled him bodily up and off his pillow. "Ow, ow, ow! What are you trying to do, princess - kill me?"
"Shhh..." the paparazzi princess whispered soothingly. "It's a secret remedy of mine - it'll make you feel better."
Jeff almost asked sarcastically what "secret remedy" could possibly be more comfortable than a couple Advil and a pillow, but wisely kept silent - after all, she had the ice. Melina carefully rolled him over onto his back, lowering him gently back down onto the bed and resting his head in her lap.
As soon as his head hit her thighs, the younger Hardy brother felt all remaining smart-alecky comments die on his lips. The softness of Melina's skin beneath his cheek, the subtle aroma of her scent in his nostrils - already, he could feel his discomfort draining away.
He felt Melina's hands on his face, gently caressing his forehead, his cheek; her fingertips, cool from the ice, as soothing as any balm. "Well?" the Dominant Diva drawled, her tone affectionately coy.
The Rainbow-Haired Warrior slowly opened his eyes, noting almost immediately that his new position provided him with the even-more welcome sight of the paparazzi princess's face staring lovingly down at him. Jeff felt a lazy smile slip across his lips. "You're right, princess," he murmured drowsily, his breath escaping him in a low contented sigh. "This is comfortable..."
"Hmm..." the Dominant Diva purred softly. She leaned down a little, and Jeff felt the ends of her long hair brush his face. "Just so you know...I also kiss boo-boos."
To this, the Charismatic Enigma arched one eyebrow questioningly. "Really?" he remarked, a flirtatious edge creeping into his voice. "What kinds of boo-boos?"
The paparazzi princess shrugged one shoulder; a simple seductive movement. "All kinds," she replied, blinking her dark eyes innocently.
In spite of himself, Jeff could feel the laughter pressing against his lips, and although he struggled valiantly to hold it back, eventually the hilarity of the situation became too much for him to contain, and he dissolved into chuckles. Melina soon joined him, her laughter emerging in a series of unladylike snorts, the sound of which made Jeff laugh even harder.
Gazing up at her, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior found himself marveling at the transformation taking place above him. With her skimpy outfit, elaborately styled hair, and carefully applied makeup, the young woman staring down at him was, by all physical appearances, still Johnny Nitro's girlfriend...but yet, all it took was one smile to transform her into a completely different person.
It would always be that smile - simple, sincere, brimming with unadulterated happiness - that would separate her from the cold arrogant individual at ringside; from the Diva that everyone loved to hate. With that smile, she was no longer a manager, no longer a trophy; she was just...Melina.
His Melina.
All amusement ceased, however, as a new sound mingled with their laughter - the dull rumbling rattle of a phone set on vibrate. Melina's smile instantly vanished, the color draining from her face so completely that her makeup looked more like a layer of paint. She looked away, her gaze sliding over toward the nightstand. Jeff followed her line of sight, his own expression hardening slightly as his green irises locked onto the seemingly innocuous shape of the Dominant Diva's Sidekick, vibrating subtly as it rang again.
And again.
And again.
The electronic device had been ringing almost non-stop since the pair had ducked out of the arena. Jeff hadn't asked who was calling, but in some ways, he didn't need to - Melina's body language more than answered the question for him. He had glimpsed it several times during the drive to the hotel - the way she would ignore the phone until the third or fourth ring, before reluctantly digging it out of her bag. The way her dark eyes widened and her complexion blanched as she scanned the small digital screen. The way she would shove the Sidekick back into her bag, wiping her hand off on her skirt as though the device was somehow coated with an infectious disease.
The way - and this was the moment the younger Hardy brother hated most of all - she would avert her gaze immediately after, staring down at her lap or out the window, blinking rapidly as she struggled not to cry, her whole demeanor radiating fear and shame...
Part of Jeff wanted to grab that phone and throw it against the wall as hard as he could. It didn't matter that he and the paparazzi princess were the only two people in the room - because every time that thing rang, they were joined by a third. Every time that sound would cut through the air, he could feel the aura of privacy surround him and Melina grow thin and shatter; could feel a noxious presence fill the room - as though the self-proclaimed A-lister had actually materialized in the corner, his eyes glaring a hole through both of them.
The Charismatic Enigma already had a long list of reasons to loathe Johnny Nitro - and now, it seemed that he could add yet another entry to that record...namely, the emotional and psychological control that the former Intercontinental Champion still had over his girlfriend and manager.
The Sidekick rang a few more times, then stopped. A toneless beep several seconds later indicated that there was a voice mail message. Jeff had been counting the beeps since the damn thing had started ringing - this was number thirteen.
As soon as the electronic device fell silent, the Dominant Diva's shoulders slumped, the air leaving her in a long shaky exhale. She looked back down at Jeff, her lips already parting to deliver an excuse - but then, she stopped. To do so would have been pointless, anyway - it was obvious that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior knew what was going on. Instead, Melina ducked her head down even more, her long reddish-brown hair falling forward and obscuring part of her face from view.
"You're still afraid of him...aren't you?" The younger Hardy brother's remark was both a statement and a question.
The paparazzi princess said nothing; only nodded miserably. Her voice, when she eventually did speak, was halting and barely audible: "I...I'm sorry-"
"Sorry for what?" Jeff abruptly sat up, ignoring the painful protests from his neck and back. He reached out, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear, his fingertips tracing the curve of her cheek. "Sorry that he cheated on you? That he hit you? That he gave you a reason to be afraid of him?" He took her face in both of his hand, turning her towards him. "Princess...it's not your fault-"
"Yes, it is!" The Dominant Diva's tone was a low agonized whisper, tears glittering at the edges of her lower lashes. Her lips trembled with emotion. "I should have left...the moment I found out he was cheating on me...but I didn't. I stuck around, lying to myself, telling myself that it would get better; that even if it got worse, I could handle it-"
Melina squeezed her eyes closed for a second. "Well...it didn't get better, it did get worse, and now...I-I don't know how to handle it." She slowly shook her head. "My whole career...I've always had a direction, always had a plan...but now I don't." Another deep shuddering breath. "I don't know...what to do - and somehow, that scares me more than Johnny-"
She started to shake, and Jeff quickly pulled her to him, cradling her in his embrace. Melina leaned against him, sucking in breaths that were more like thin gasps, but she didn't cry - the Rainbow-Haired Warrior almost wanted to applaud her for that.
He rested his cheek against the top of her head, drinking in the warmth emanating from her body. "I don't have an answer for you, princess," Jeff admitted. "Anyone'll tell you, even Matt - I'm the last guy in the world to have a plan for anything. And even if I did...it's not my place to tell you what to do with your life."
The Charismatic Enigma paused for a second, his arms tightening protectively around the Dominant Diva. "But here's what I can do. It's obvious, to me at least, that you're terrified of Nitro; of talking to him, of even running into him. So - since we've got this big chunk of free time between now and Survivor Series - instead of heading back to LA and worrying whether that douchebag is gonna show up at your door..."
Jeff paused again, hesitating only a moment before uttering his next words: "...why don't you come down to North Carolina...and stay with me?"
He felt Melina stiffen, then pull back so she could look up at him. Her expression was lodged somewhere halfway between hopeful and bewildered. "You...mean that?"
"Yeah!" In spite of the situation, the younger Hardy brother felt a small sardonic smile touch the corners of his mouth. "And it is a house - regardless of what you may have heard, princess, I do not live in a tent out in the middle of a field-"
Melina continued to stare at him, her countenance still full of that elated incredulity. "That-" Her voice cracked slightly, and it was only with effort that she was able to get the remainder of the sentence out. "That would be...awesome-"
"But there's a catch, princess," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior interjected gently. Instantly, the paparazzi princess tensed, wariness flitting across her features. Jeff went on. "The catch is...when we arrive in Philly on Sunday for Survivor Series...you decide what you're going to do about Nitro." He bent his head down a little, peering closely at the Dominant Diva. "Deal?"
For a heartbeat or two, there was no response, no movement...and then Melina nodded slowly, a tentative smile emerging on her face. "Deal," she whispered, that one solitary syllable saying everything that needed to be said.
Jeff returned her nod. "All right, then," he replied, echoing his older brother's words from a week ago. His grin widened. "Now...what were you saying about kissing boo-boos?"
As he watched, Melina's smile shifted ever-so-slightly; hinting at deeds that were far more intimate. "Where does it hurt?" the paparazzi princess murmured.
The younger Hardy brother tapped his lower lip. "Here." A second later, he felt Melina's mouth touch his, driving even thoughts of Johnny Nitro into insignificance...
Cause you wanted more
More than I could give
More than I could handle
And a life that I can't live
You wanted more
More than I could bear
More than I could offer
For a love that isn't there...
Nitro slammed his phone down onto the bed, running both hands through his highlighted hair. He'd been calling Melina for hours, all to no avail - no matter how many times he dialed her number, he still couldn't progress any further than her voice mail.
At first, he'd left lengthy messages, full of cajoling and phony sincerity, assuring her that he wasn't mad, that he just wanted to talk; pleading with her to call him. But as the game of phone tag progressed and his patience dwindled, the prerecorded message of Hi, this is Melina; leave a message... grinding on his nerves, the self-proclaimed A-lister's "wounded boyfriend" facade began to fade as well, until his missives were little more than terse barked directives of: "You know who this is. Call me now."
The former Intercontinental Champion fell back onto the coverlet, covering his face with his hands. Up until a few hours ago, everything had been right with the world - he had excused his girlfriend's odd behavior over the past few months as nothing more than an extended hormonal phase, and in spite of his title loss the previous week, was even willing to chalk her error up as an honest mistake.
In short, he'd been ready to forgive her...and then, all of a sudden, that too had changed when that bimbo Maria had knocked on his dressing room door, throwing a perfectly aimed monkey wench into the well-oiled machinery of his thoughts...
I just thought that you should know...your girlfriend's sleeping with someone else...
Nitro could still picture her, standing there in the doorway, staring up at him, her beautiful features composed and eerily doll-like. He could recall how the shock had slammed into him, abrupt and unrelenting, bubbling up his throat with such force that he almost choked - eclipsed almost immediately by the rage.
He had almost punched her; had actually had to grab his own hand and force it back down to his side. He had settled for glared at the backstage reporter instead, practically spitting his retort into her face:
You lying bitch - who the FUCK do you think you are...
The Maria he knew would have backed down when faced with such a confrontation - or at the very least, gotten that frightened deer-in-the-headlights look. But the Maria in front of him did neither; merely met his gaze steadily; her emerald irises cool and appraising.
It had been that look, ultimately, that had unnerved the self-proclaimed A-lister and compelled him to fall silent, at which point the backstage reporter calmly continued:
I suppose you want to know who it is. To this, Nitro had no recourse but to nod. He remembered that Maria had glanced down at her fingernails, running her thumb over the tops before flicking her green gaze up toward him once again. If I were you...I'd pay attention to how she looks at Jeff Hardy...
It was such a perfect remark - uttered with the same devastating calculation that he had seen Melina use time and time again - that Nitro had no choice but to admire it, even as he felt it taking effect, penetrating him to the marrow, poisoning him with its truth. He'd had no time to ponder it then - a technician had materialized at that moment, summoning him to gorilla, and just barely after he'd arrived at the staging area, it had been time for him and Melina to make their entrance.
With all the thoughts swirling around his head - the bombshell Maria had dropped on him, his own doubts and fears - Nitro was amazed that, to a certain degree, he'd been able to compartmentalize and remain rational; focusing on the match at hand without being totally overwhelmed by his emotions. However, he did notice a certain amount of distance radiating from Melina; how she seemed reluctant to touch him or even look in his direction; how - after every offensive move he hit - instead of the triumphant primal screams he was accustomed to hearing, there was only deafening silence from her side of the ring.
It had been that detachment, in the end, that had pissed him off - the biggest match of his career, and yet his girlfriend, his ace in the hole, had checked out mentally. The self-proclaimed A-lister couldn't recall exactly when he had snapped; only that he had, storming toward the ropes, leaning down over them as he bellowed at her...
Hey! What the FUCK is wrong with you? I'M the one you need to be concerned about! I'M the one that matters! What the fuck could you possibly-
Then Jeff's elbow had connected with the back of his head...and everything following that was understandably hazy. The next thing he could remember with any sort of clarity was looking around once the referees had pried the ladder off him, searching for the Dominant Diva...and realizing, with the sort of dull comprehension that follows the death of denial, that she had already gone.
Gone. Without him. And the fact that she wasn't here to explain herself, the fact that he couldn't even reach her on the phone...well, it only served to hammer the point home even further that not only was she gone...but she was with someone else.
And not just anyone...but a burned-out junkie has-been who had done nothing more than make both of their lives miserable.
Nitro gritted his teeth, sliding his hands to his ears, but it wasn't enough to keep reality from slipping in, shouting with all the ear-splitting volume of a jackhammer...
Jeff Hardy.
Melina - HIS Melina - was screwing Jeff Hardy.
"No!" With a guttural roar, the former Intercontinental Champion sat up, practically vaulting to his feet. He tore his hands through his hair again, hard enough to pull strands of it out by the roots. "How could she do that to me - with him - after everything I've given her?" His eyes darted wildly around the room, as though daring someone to emerge from the shadows and contradict him. "That...that...that-"
"I believe the word you're looking for...is bitch."
Hearing the unexpected feminine voice, Nitro whipped around, his eyes bulging in surprise when he saw Maria, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, staring at him mildly as though she'd been here the whole time.
The self-proclaimed A-lister's mouth moved as he struggled to find the words. "You...you..." Then, all at once, coherence returned to him and he spat the syllables out in a rush: "How did...you...get in here?"
The backstage reporter glanced behind her nonchalantly. "I don't know if you know this - but your door's not even closed...and I could hear your screaming at the other end of the hall." She shrugged. "As for how I found you...I asked around. Discreetly, that is."
Nitro stared at her for a second or two, the breath tearing in and out of his lungs in ragged pants. Slowly, he shook his head. "You've got some fucking nerve, you know that?" He gestured at himself. "After what you did - telling me a shit story like that just right before my match-" Another head shake. "For all I know, that loser boyfriend of yours sent you just to throw me off my game-"
"Hey!" At the sound of Maria's voice, the former Intercontinental Champion fell silent. There was a sharpness to her tone; a sort of unmistakable authority that Nitro had never imagined could even exist in her. The backstage reporter went on, her green eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "First of all - if you're going to call someone out for using their girlfriend to help them win a match...then you're just the pot calling the kettle black. Second..."
Maria paused for a moment, tilting her chin up just a fraction. "Second," she iterated. "If what I told you was a lie...don't you think I would have picked something other than my boyfriend's name?"
To this, the self-proclaimed A-lister had no response, and he grudgingly snapped his mouth shut. Maria pushed her lithe frame upright, crossing both arms over her chest and advancing toward the former Intercontinental Champion. "My point is...Jeff didn't send me. I doubt that he knows that I know."
She paused, a thoughtful expression momentarily drifting across her face. "Which could be useful...because it means that he still trusts me."
In the back of his mind, Nitro wondered what exactly she meant by that, but never got a chance to ask before the backstage reporter changed the subject. "So..." Maria stepped out into the main area of the hotel room, nodding her chin in his direction. "Now that you know...and if the screaming was any indication, you know it's the truth..." Her emerald irises never wavered from his. "What are you going to do now?"
"What do you think?" Nitro retorted. "The next time I see her, I'm kicking her lying ass to the curb," The corner of his mouth twisted up in a bitter half-smile. "I should do it in the middle of the ring at Survivor Series - once we win, of course - just so the entire world can see how big a whore she is..."
His voice trailed off as he noticed Maria's expression. The backstage reporter did not seem impressed by his claim - if anything, she seemed disappointed. The former Intercontinental Champion scowled. 'What? Don't tell me that you actually feel sorry for her? You hate her guts, just like everyone else-"
The Raw Diva shrugged again, the movement somehow simultaneously indifferent and adorable. "Oh, no, it's not that," Her emerald irises shifted upward, locking onto his once more. "It's just that...once you dump her...then what?"
To this, Nitro frowned, his brow creasing in confusion. Maria went on, her voice slow and patient, as though she was explaining instructions to a very small child...but also laced with the faintest hint of mocking. "I mean, from what I've heard, it's still up in the air whether or not you can even win a match on your own - so why would you want to get rid of the one advantage that you have?"
There was a straight-backed chair against the wall; Maria grabbed it, tugging it behind her as she walked toward Nitro. "Besides - if you dump her, what's to stop her from offering her...services...elsewhere?" With one deft move, she flipped the chair around, straddling it and leaning forward against its back.
It was spooky, Nitro realized, hearing those words in that tone emerge from that Barbie-doll-like face. It was as though the bubbly empty-headed facade he had always assumed to be the real Maria had been abruptly torn away, revealing an individual more calculating, more devious, and - quite possibly - more vicious than Melina. In some ways, it was a little bit like growing up and learning that the sugary-sweet fairy tales you read as a kid were really dark bitter reflections of reality.
The backstage reporter was still talking, the light in her green eyes practically a challenge by now: "-tell me, Johnny, what's worse? Losing to Jeff...or seeing your girlfriend in his corner, actively making sure that you lose?"
Nitro narrowed his eyes, at a loss for words, but in no way willing to concede defeat. "So..what?" he shot back. "You have a better idea?"
"As a matter of fact..." Maria daintily propped her wrists up on the chair back, crossing one over the other. Her expression was sweet, innocent...but her eyes were like green shards of ice.
"I do..."