The next day was passing in a rather mundane manner as the girls were coming down from the excitement of last night's show. They sat in the cafeteria at catering with their father, sipping tea from styrofoam cups. Reves's face distorted at the taste of the brackish liquid. "For a billion-dollar company, you would think they could provide something better than Lipton."
"You know, unfortunately, they do have to allocate a budget for such expenses," Heather turned to her and stated.
"They order like ten gallons of soup. Soup! Surly, they can squeeze in the for some Republic of Tea, Celestial Seasons, something!" Rev argued.
"Girl, shut yer mouth. It's all the same," Mark chided her.
Heather had a myriad of responses and facts to counter that statement, but she felt it was best to let it be.
She looked to the door when the three men that comprised the New World Order faction entered. Although the whole nWo angle was a work, like every other story presented on the program, Heather's innate observation revealed to her the tension that pervaded the room.
Some paid little mind to the scenario. To them work was work. Others still stared at them warily, wishing to send them to the gallows. Heather knew all too well that even though her father considered them to be friends, he held the industry in the highest esteem. There was no possibility he would allow them to return to this company and proceed to usurp authority.
She supposed the idiom went as 'life imitates art'. Still, she wasn't positive how much truth there was to the rumors that they had decimated WCW from the inside out. However, she was certain that AOL/Time Warner was in dire financial straits when Vince McMahon finally bought them out.
Lastly, there was that absurd urban legend that Mr. McMahon had sent Hall and Nash to WCW to destroy it. Judging by the glares and tension, that didn't seem likely at all. These prospects all made her a little apprehensive.
Heather blinked and shook her head. What did it matter? She was aware she was often known to over analyze situations at times. Perhaps reading too many Shakespeare plays had left her in that mind set. After all, was not all the world a stage?
As Heather was entangled in discerning myths from concrete facts, Reves had her eyes fixed on Scott Hall as he dispensed coffee from a giant urn. She couldn't help but stare at him in those snug black jeans, his t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest. His gleaming onyx hair was pulled back into its trademark braid. She gazed at the dark stubble on her chin, wondering briefly what it would feel like scrapping against her sensitive skin, before her surroundings and her wits caught up with her.
She pulled her attention away and turned towards her sister. "Are you almost done?" she questioned impatiently as Heather nibbled a turkey sandwich.
"Yeah, girl hurry up," Mark instructed after looking at the clock.
"Yes sir," Heather replied before taking a bigger bite.
Kevin and Terry joined Scott as he was adding sugar to his coffee.
"Don't you think you're sweet enough?" Kevin asked with a shit eating grin.
"Shut up, you dick," Scott retorted, but returned the grin.
"Someone seems to think so," Kev shifted his eyes towards the table where Mark and the girls sat. "Looks like you got yourself a little mark."
Scott turned his head nonchalantly just as she was glancing over again. Their eyes met and she averted her gaze quickly. Abruptly, she stood, her folding chair caused a loud screech as she did so. She cursed the noise for drawing more attention to her than there should have been. She collected her trash and scurried to the garbage bin before anyone could see her crimson face.
Heather got up, following suite and Mark was in tow.
Scott chuckled. It would seem someone had a little crush. He was used to young girls being infatuated with him. Still he found it hilarious that her badass attitude was probably a front.
The sisters walked a few feet in front of Mark. Heather linked arms with her sister. She looked distressed. "Are you alright?" she asked with concern.
Reves glanced over her shoulder at her father. "I'm fine," she looked at her younger sibling, hoping she sounded convincing.
Heather wasn't so sure, but she didn't know how to approach the issue. Nothing had seemed to change, yet her sister seemed…distracted. She knew Reves would not speak to her about it in their father's presence, so she dropped her inquisition.
They made their way back to Mark's locker room. "Kay, girls. I got an interview I gotta do. It shouldn't take too long. Just hang out here for now," Mark instructed.
Reves rolled her eyes and fell back on the leather couch, folding her arms over her chest.
Mark took notice of this and scowled. "Do you have a problem with my work schedule, little girl?" his voice bellowed. Ninety percent of it was a scare tactic to keep them in line, but he was defiantly not the type to be disrespected.
Reves straightened her face, dropping her hands into her lap. She looked down at her boots. "No sir, I don't," she answered, trying her best to sound compliant.
"That's exactly what I thought. Now, don't go getting into trouble," he warned as he exited the room. He closed to door behind him and he was gone.
"That sounds like a challenge," Reves grinned.
"No, Rev. We already got into hot water last week for messing around in the ring. Remember?" Heather chided her sister.
Reves's eyes flashed with mischief as Heather made mention of the squared circle. She leaned on the armrest of the couch in front of her sister, and peered into her eyes. "C'mon. Are you just gonna sit here and read like a dork?" she asked as she snatched the copy of Animal Farm from her sister's delicate hands.
"That was my intention," the ebony hared girl replied, attempting to retrieve her book.
"Ugh, I'm so bored! You expect me to just sit here and do nothing?"
"I wasn't aware that your entertainment was dependent upon me," Heather stated in a rare, caustic tone.
"I'll just keep this with me," Reves held up her sister's book. "Or perhaps, it will make it's way to the men's urinals," she threatened, her lips pursed wickedly.
Heather's eyes widened at the thought of the abuse and destruction of the novel. "That is my course book, in case any form of consciousness eludes you," she informed her sister, the edge cut through her voice.
Reves shrugged and headed for the door. Heather stood up and followed after her. "Come on, Rev. You know we are supposed to stay put."
"Dad never does interviews," Reves ejected, becoming serious all of a sudden.
"What do you mean?" Heather questioned, a little unnerved by her sister's expression. "Is that what made you upset earlier?"
They had stopped now and stood in the corridor.
"No," Reves admitted, "But don't you think it's funny?"
Heather paused momentarily to ponder the thought. Not where she was concerned, it wasn't. Their father was a busy man with a hectic schedule. She still didn't understand her sister's notion. Not until it dawned on her, making her gasp and blush. "You still don't trust him, do you?"
Reves only shook her head in response. She was harboring a grudge. This man was their father. He was supposed to be the foundation of their family and had lied and deceived them all. Her mother was supposed to be the glue, though she was guilty as well. It was just more difficult to crucify her given her sacrifices and her suffering to keep the family from falling apart.
"Rev, I don't think Dad- it's not our concern, I suppose…" Heather trailed off, looking away.
She remembered that day, a little over a year ago. They had come home from school. They usually found their mother in the kitchen starting dinner at that time. That day however, she was absent when they entered the kitchen. They made their way upstairs, calling for her.
"I'll be out in a minute, girls," she called back to them from her bedroom. After a couple of minutes, she emerged from her bedroom. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying and the girls were surprised. Their mother was an affectionate and loving woman, but they had rarely witnessed her cry.
"Mom, what's wrong?" Reves questioned.
"Is it Daddy?" Heather's hands flew over her mouth in alarm.
Fresh tears were threatening to spill from their mother's eyes again. "No, he's fine." There was a bitter edge to her voice. "It's nothing you girls need to concern yourselves with." She wiped way the tears and tried to smile.
Her answer only piqued the girl's disquietude. For they perceived the shock and betrayal in their mother's eyes. They two sisters exchanged glances. They were well aware that something awful had taken place. Their mother didn't just cry for no apparent reason.
"I'm fine girls, really. Come on," she said, putting an arm around each girl. It was time for her to dry it up. There were the kids to think of. "Can you help me peel potatoes for dinner? Your brothers will be starved when they come home from football practice."
Later that night, Heather had approached her parents' room again to inquire if her favorite shirt had come out of the wash. She heard her mother speaking to someone. "Yes Mom," her voice cracked as if she was crying again. "He forgot his cell phone when he left out this morning. It had a voicemail from a woman named Vivian telling him how much she missed him, and couldn't wait to see him again."
Heather's stomach leaped up into her throat. Her hand clasped over her mouth to muffle the gasp that escaped her. She immediately turned on her heels, running in the other direction before she was discovered. Getting away in such a rush, she knocked into a credenza, nearly toppling a group of framed photos.
She hurried to her sister's room, and closed to door behind her. Breathless and in tears, she reveled to her sister the shocking secret that had their mother so devastated.
Reves immediately became enraged. She was furious with her father. Even though she knew it was between her parents, she was sure to let him know about it the next time he returned home. Despite being grounded for their alleged meddling, Reves was glad she had said her peace. It was a fault of hers, she couldn't sit back in silence if she knew something was wrong.
The sisters where drawn back to the present when their eyes met. "Come on, humor me. Give me a good fight," Reves smiled, trying to chase away the brooding feelings rising up in her.
Smiling sweetly, Heather relented as her sister took her hand. "Okay, okay. Just one."
Down in the ring, the sisters were having themselves a mock match up. Truthfully, they didn't have any experience. They simply mimicked what they saw in the ring. They knew there was a method to the madness. They had seen countless "DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME" ads. However, they could only fill their time so many ways while on the road.
"You are going to break your necks like that," a deep baritone voice scold them from out of nowhere.
Both girls jumped, and stood up on their feet. Heather's heart, which was already pounding from the surprise, accelerated more. They would be in for it now. They sister looked over to see Hall and Nash entering the ring. Heather took notice of the way Nash stepped over the top rope. Her father did not even do that. Heather lowered her gaze when he looked at her. She hugged her body self-consciously. She didn't feel overtly uncomfortable, but the thought of someone watching her perform shenanigans in such a mediocre fashion left her absolutely mortified.
Reves on the other hand, had no qualms in displaying her displeasure at the interruption of their theatrics. With her hands on her hips, her face was fixed in a glare and she tapped her foot on the canvas.
"Oh, sorry. Don't realize the ring was already rented out," Hall said sarcastically.
"Looks like you were having yourselves a five-star match," Nash added.
The sisters glanced at each other and Heather went red. Why did it see as if these two were always around all of a sudden?
"Look chicas, you got no business down in this ring if you don't know what you're doing. Big Kev is right. You could get seriously hurt," Scott admonished them.
Heather nodded in compliance while Reves rolled her eyes.
"Does Mark know you're down here?" Kevin asked
"No, Mr. Nash," Heather replied.
Kevin raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? What do I look like, some fucking fat, old history teacher?" he questioned with his massive arms folded across his broad chest.
Scott laughed. "May I use the bathroom, Mr. Nash?" he begged jumping up and down with his hand raised.
Heather's face registered bewilderment and shock. Even though her father was a monster of a man, she was not acquainted with being in such proximity to someone else of such enormous stature. It all made her feel anxious and intimidated.
"N-no, sir," she mumbled. She couldn't comprehend what the issue was. She was merely being respectful like her daddy taught her. She made it a point to interact that was with everyone so they wouldn't have a cause to give her father a bad report.
She momentarily made eye contact. Here father was always chiding her about looking people in the eye when she was speaking with them. It was a challenge. She was shy by nature and the torment she endured while at school made it all the more difficult.
Kevin looked in the petite girl's eyes and instantly felt like a dick. He hadn't meant to come off so brash. She seemed like a sweet girl and it was probably something rooted in her due to her southern upbringing.
"Hey, don't be so rude to my sister," Reves clucked. "She was only being polite and respectful, which I can say, is more than you would get from me. You gotta earn that shit."
Scott's eyes widened in a mocking fashion as he wiggled his fingers playfully in one of his signature taunts.
Kevin on the other hand, glowered down at her. "And what the fuck did we ever do to you?"
"Well," her brazen attitude was faltering. "Just don't scare my sister, okay? Just because you guys are all big and buff doesn't mean you have to act like dickheads."
"Reves!" Heather gasped. "You should apologize, now. Please" It was taking a considerable amount of courage for Heather to chide her sister. She was nearly squirming as she spoke.
"For what?" Reves shrugged her shoulders.
Kevin inhaled sharply and shifted his stance. Her was half a second was from smacking the little brat.
Scott looked at his best friend and stifled a laugh. Was he really letting the kid get to him? He cracked a grin and his tongue manipulated the toothpick between his lips.
Stealing a glance at him, Reves was all too curios as to what else that tongue could do. Her face became flush, though she was battling to keep her cool.
"You alright there?" Scott asked as he removed the toothpick from his mouth.
Reves was pulled from her little fantasy by the sound of his voice. "What?" she snapped.
Scott stared at his buddy and this time their eyes met. They were well aware of how challenging traveling and living on the road was. It was miserable for a grown man. They couldn't imagine what it was like for a couple of teen girls. Which begged the question as to what they were doing there.
Kevin's seething expression began to slip away. "Look, just don't be fucking around down here alright?" He turned towards Heather. "And I'm sorry for coming off as a prick. That's kind of just my personality." He bowed to emphasize his apology. "But Kevin is fine, if you don't mind."
She blushed and smiled shyly at the comical gesture. "It's quite alright," she forced herself to speak.
"Don't you think you oughta get back before Mark's interview is up?" Scott suggested.
"Shit!" Reves exclaimed and Heather gasped. They were sure it had been past and hour. Without any further acknowledgement to the two outsiders, Heather scrambled out of the ring. Reves gave one last glance at Scott and followed suit.
They two men stood in the ring and watched them disappear backstage.
"Annoying, fucking marks," Kevin grumbled.
"What are you moaning about over there, Big Grumpy? Girl didn't put you over?" Scott chided the larger man.
Kev ignored his inquiry and threw his arm around the smaller man's should. "You're luck we're brothers Scotty."