It was early morning and the sun had just begun to poke its luminescent rays into the windows of the structures throughout Toronto. After the previous night's rendezvous, there was hardly a soul willing to greet the new day.
Heather was an exception. She wouldn't state that she made a ritual of rising with the sun, but the solitude while everyone else seemed to be dead to the world, was comforting.
Heather sat up in bed, reading. Reves groaned beside her and pulled the covers over her head. Heather glanced over at her. She had been awfully lethargic as of late. She was the first to go to bed last night. Heather deduced it was the toll of travel. All wrestlers went through it. Of course, they endured much worse due to the battery their bodies sustain day in and day out.
She turned to the clock. She probably didn't have much time before her father would have them packing up for the next town.
Her sister, her father and herself would be heading to the next town, that was. Her mother and brothers would be flying back to Huston today. The brothers have had quite a few truancies, at school and had almost been dismissed from sports teams as a result. (This indeed, did incur the wrath of their father.) Mark was able to get them a pardon for this event, however.
Heather was gracious she didn't have to return to that inferno. She recalled again, the dance that had taken place that past Saturday. She had not attended any such occasion since entering middle school. Yet, she felt she had acquired enough of the high school experience and witnessed enough teen dramas to conclude a night of dismal agony was quite sure to ensue. Presently, she dismissed the thoughts from her mind and returned to her tome.
Kevin stumbled groggily out of the bathroom after taking a piss. He expelled as rumbling yawn from deep in his throat as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. Fuck, it was too early to be awake, but nature's call and the pounding that had begun on the left side of his temple removed him from his slumber. Maybe he could catch a few more winks before they had to be moving on.
Nash stood over his bed and frowned, as he ran his hand through his tangled blonde mane. He stared down at the figure, splayed across his bed on her stomach. He could have sworn he had sent this broad packing before he fell asleep last night.
"Ha, good pickings, Kev."
Kevin turned to look at Scott in his bed, propped up on his elbow, wearing a shit eating smirk.
"Fuck off, man. Least I got fucked last night, unlike someone who was in bed by midnight like a fucking geezer," Kevin spat before turning back to the unconscious woman.
Scott's mouth stretched into a wolfish grin. If he only knew about the feisty blonde, he had taken on too many surfaces to count; right in that very room before his pal had even stumbled through the door with his rat.
Kevin sighed, a little embarrassed. Man, what had happened last night? She wasn't particularly dog-faced, but damn, he had more pride and self-respect than this.
He leaned down and shook her should gently. "Hey…" Oh, what the fuck was her name? He couldn't remember if she ever told him. Truth be told, he didn't give a damn. "Hey," he repeated, louder.
She jerked and sat up, opening her eyes. She wiped drool from the corner of her mouth as she craned her neck to gaze up at Kevin almost in awe. Her eyes shifted to Scott on the other bed. She grabbed the sheet and shielded her naked chest, as if suddenly overcome by modesty. Scott chuckled at her.
"Sorry to wake you," Kevin said, calling her attention back to him, "but we need to get going soon." Before she could respond, he started tossing her scattered clothes onto the bed.
"Oh. Ok," she replied awkwardly, as she started dressing.
When she was fully clad, she went over to her purse sitting in a table. She pulled out pen and a scrap of paper. She scribbled on the paper, then approached Nash. "Well, thanks," she said, sounding more like she was posing an inquiry. She then offered the slip to Scott. "Maybe, we can meet up next time you're in town?"
She looked awkwardly between the two, then turned on her heels towards the door.
Kevin was making a cut through motion as he shook his head. He formed an O shape with his hands. He gestured, pulling his hand outward indicating a massive object. He was mouthing something with his eyes bugling. Scott could only guess he was trying to inform him something along the lines of, "big pussy" and he attempted to suppress his laughter. "You're a dick," he whispered hoarsely, choking on his words.
When she was gone, Scott looked at his friend. "Hey yo, maybe it's not her fault, Chico," he insinuated. "They call you, Big Sexy, but are you really?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kevin shot back.
"No, not really." Scott got off the bed and crumbled the piece of paper into the trash. He figured for the foreseeable future, he may not need to go out of his was to pick up chicks. Not that he ever really had to put in that much effort. The seedy parts of each city were rife with rats whom had a knack for sniffing out the talent.
"Well, now that we're awake," Kevin stated begrudgingly, "guess we got time to hit the Waffle House." He wrapped his arm around his buddy's neck, but Scott seemed lost in thought. "Hey, don't let that shit from yesterday kick your ass, bro. Fuck Vince, if that's the way he wants to be." Kevin ruffled his hair like a big brother.
Yesterday's events weren't at the forefront of his thoughts, but one Kev reinnervated them, his blood began to boil. "Yeah, you're right," Scott commented, even though he was seething inside.
Later, when they had shown up to the arena, Vince called them into his office. They two men wondered what bullshit they were going to have spewed at them now. They hadn't seen much of Hulk since last night. They had only spoken to him briefly on the phone.
Vince stood as they entered. "Hey men, how are you?"
Scott only stared at Vince in silence, trying to hide his scowl.
Kevin glanced at Scott, noting his friend's sordid expression. He turned towards Vince. "Fine, I guess," he shrugged. "What's up, Vince?"
Vince began, "Look, I know you two are upset about last night's changes."
Scott couldn't help but let out a snort at the absurdity.
Vince regarded him sternly. "As I was saying, I know how disappointed you are from losing Terry from the faction, but we needed to go in a different direction with this. Sorry, it is for the best."
Kevin's gaze became steely, as he felt the anger raising up in him. Is it really for the best? Or is it because a bunch of butthurt jabroni's got into your ear? He wanted to ask. Instead, he questioned, "So, what? Is nWo shit canned now?"
Vince's countenance was overcome with an odd sort of expression as he gestured towards the door.
Kevin and Scott turned towards the door in bemusement. Both men's jaws dropped when their eyes fell upon one of their dearest friends in the world. One of their Kliq brothers, Sean Waltman, was standing in the doorway.
"What the hell?" Scott asked incredulously.
"Kid, you little fucker! Why didn't you tell us?" Kevin exclaimed as he embraced his smaller friend in a bone-crushing hug.
After Kev released him, Scott pulled him in. "We've missed you, Chico," Scott told him
"Vince told me not to tell. This is going to be awesome, just like old times," Kid mused with a crooked smile.
Heather's body jumped involuntarily when her sister entered their father's locker room and dropped and object on the floor with a thunderous bang.
"What was that?" Heather questioned her sister. Her heart was palpitating rapidly from the shock.
Reves plopped down beside her on the couch and dangled a pair of objects that were tied together at the ends, off her fingers. "Here, put these on," Reves instructed as she began unlacing her black combat boots.
"Skates?" Heather murmured, puzzled. She used her thumb to spin one of the wheels as they sat in her lap.
"Yeah. Ever seen a pair?" Reves asked rhetorically.
"I don't think this would be a wise idea," Heather stated wearily.
"Nothing to you is a wise idea. How about just, fucking fun?" Reves tutted.
"Where did you procure these? How did you manage?"
"I don't pack three suitcases every run for nothing," Reves shrugged.
Heather held one of the skates in her hands, feeling the weight of it. It had been years since she had been on a pair of skates. She remembered going to the skating rink all the time with Brittany in Fifth Grade. As time went on though, Heather elected that she preferred to stay home and read a book. She never did like huge throngs of people, but she went because it was something her friend loved.
"Heather, hurry up," Reves chided her as she laced her second skate.
Heather set the skates to the side. She murmured softly and picked up her book again, "I don't want to."
Reves reached over and snatched the book from her sister's grasp. "Get those damn skates on now, or I'll flush your shit right down the toilet," she threatened as she held it aloft.
Heather sighed in irritation. Was this a comical jest to everyone? What was the term they used in the locker rooms, a rib? She disregarded the instructions. "That would be quite a feat, regarding that the dimensions are completely disproportionate or you may render septic blockage."
"Stop trying to reason yourself out of this," Reves demanded as she got up and glided shakily toward the bathroom with and evil smirk on her lips.
Heather jumped to her feet. She wouldn't really vandalize a book, would she? Words were such a precious commodity. Why would she decimate them?
"Please, Rev. Just give it back," Heather pleaded with tears welling up in her eyes.
Reves huffed sourly and tossed the book on the couch. "It's nothing to cry over, you puss," she grunted.
"You shouldn't use that term. It's derogatory." Heather reprimanded.
Reves only rolled her eyes in response.
"Besides," Heather continued, "It's was taxing enough to be subjected to such vicious harassment at the hands of my peers. Yet, when my own family elects to abuse me with such harsh treatment…" she trailed off, fighting back tears again.
"Oh, stop being melodramatic," Reves waved her hand, dismissing her grievance. Not a moment later she was at her sister's side. "Come on, Heather. We never do anything fun like we used to."
Heather's eyes were down cast. "Everything is different now."
"How?" Reves questioned; her demeanor softening. "We're the same, aren't we? You and me?"
"Of course, we are. But we wouldn't be here if things hadn't turned upside down."
Reves pondered this. It was true. The long-held secret had shaken her to her core, but it didn't alter the relationship she shared with her little sister. She wanted everything to go back to normal, before this revelation that was meant to divide them, before her sister's incident. Heather tried to shoulder a lot of the blame, but it wasn't her fault.
Reves picked up the skates and placed them in her sister's gentle hands. "Please," she begged.
It wasn't like Reves to plead for anything, and Heather felt herself folding. Maybe it wouldn't be so horrible. Maybe it would be fun? Like the summer nights they would go down to the pool in the backyard at midnight, if the impulse struck their fancy. Her skin tinted pink as she recalled occasion or two where Reves stripped away her bathing suit and went skinny dipping. She would never do something so undignified!
"Alright. I shall acquiesce," she squeaked.
Reves simply stared at her, awaiting and explanation.
"That means yes," Heather informed her.
An ear to ear grin spread over Reves's normally scowling countenance. She let out an elated squeal and threw her arms around her sister.
When Heather donned her roller skates, the pair of siblings held hands, making their way into the corridor. They used to assistance of the walls and furniture as leverage.
Heather stood with one hand braced on the cement wall. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all?" Heather wondered. She teetered precariously in an attempt to maintain balance.
"Whatever," Reves ignored her. "I'm sure it's like riding a bike." She started off, dragging the younger girl along.
They started off slow, picking up speed as they began to remaster balance and technique. The smooth tile floor allowed them to glide along with ease. Heather realized that Reves had been right, it was like riding a bike, once you got the hang of it again. She cracked a small smile as they entered a set of double doors and momentarily came to a halt.
Heather let out a giggle as she tucked a strand of lovely raven hair behind her ear. "You're right. I miss this," she said nostalgically.
"Shall we race, then?" Reves asked with a Cheshire grin. She bent her knees slightly in a competitive stance.
Heather's smile faded. "Well, I don't think…"
Before she could finish, Reves had blasted off like a rocket, barreling ahead.
Hey!" Heather called after her, propelling herself forward to catch up. Heather rushed, making chase. Her stubby legs proved a challenge to closing the gap, but she raced on. She even managed to hop over a long cable that ran the width of the corridor without busting her bottom.
She was gaining on her older sister, and the grin returned. He long tendrils danced behind her as the air whipped through them.
Breaking into laughter, Heather managed to surpass her sister. She turned her head and looked at Reves, who was wearing a worrisome expression. She was only vaguely aware of her sister calling to her as she turned back and casted her eyes on the figure which she was fast approaching like lightening.
Terror gripped her entire being, rendering her immobilized as her petite body careened into that of none other than the Chairman and owner of WWE, one, Vincent Kennedy McMahon.
"Gahhh!" a guttural scream tore from the throat of the chairman as he crashed flat onto his back with a sickening thud, becoming drenched in the scalding hot coffee he had been carrying.
The impact had forced Heather backwards and she felt herself plummeting to the floor. She braced her body for the brunt when she felt her back connect with an object below her. She inhaled a sharp breath and she realized an instant later that she had not made impact with the solid tile floor. Instead she gazed with amazement, up into the eyes of none other than Kevin Nash. The receptors in her brain finally distinguished his strong muscular arm supporting the middle of her back, mere inches from the floor.
As she stared up at him, she had the peculiar sense that time had stopped – or at least ran in slow motion. It was until he brought her upright that she recognized that she had the front of his shirt gripped within her tiny palms. The crimson hue on her face blatantly displayed her mortification.
As he released her, Heather's knees buckled from under her and she nearly went down for a second time as her hand flew over her mouth at the horror of her action. She was only nebulously conscious of Kevin Nash stabilizing her frame as she stared down at Vince McMahon flat on his back.
Sean Waltman was crumpled against the wall in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He couldn't believe on the same day he got to join back up with two of his best friends in the world, he also got to witness Vince being laid out on his ass and burned with hot coffee. It was hilarious!
Kevin and Scott were struggling not to crack up as well. Scott leaned over Vince's body. "Yo, boss," he said, stifling his laughter, "you ok?" Scott had offered a hand to Vince who swatted it away as he sprang up shouting all manner of obscenities.
Vince tore off his sports coat, flinging it to the ground. "You assholes think this is funny?" he demanded. Releasing an animalistic growl, he ripped open his now stained, button down, the buttons popping and flying everywhere. The veins in his neck were protruding so profusely, it seemed as if they may literally explode, while his rage turned his face a fire engine red. "I can't believe this shit! What the hell do you think you are doing in my building?" Vince shouted in Heather's face.
Heather's entire body was trembling out of pure terror as the chairman berated her viciously. She couldn't meet his stabbing glare, nor did she wish to do so. She had unknowingly gripped onto Nash's forearm, her nails sinking into his skin like a pair of claws as tears welled up in her fright filled eyes.
"Oh, what, you have nothing to say?" Vince demanded.
Terror and shock wouldn't permit Heather to form any words. She only managed a low croak to escape her throat, followed by choking sobs.
"Vince-" Kevin tried to intercede on her behalf.
"Shut up!" Vince snapped, "I don't believe I asked you a god damn thing, Nash!"
Kevin's eyes narrowed at Vince in a piercing scowl. He had all the respect in the world for Vince McMahon, but he'd be damned if anyone was going to talk down to him like a bitch. It took every ounce of strength to hold his piece, especially when he was simply trying to defend the kid - such a timid creature - from being verbally abused by a grown ass man.
Before Kevin could say anything more, Reves appeared,
placing her arms protectively around her younger sister. "Leave her alone! It was an accident." She commanded boldly, "Don't be such a bully!"
"I'm fucking sick of you little brats running amuck back here. Mark will hear about all your bullshit!" Vince threatened in a rage.
He then proceeded to storm down the hall with his proverbial Mr. McMahon strut. "You!" He pointed his finger at an unknown sound technician who happened to be passing at random.
"Y-yes, sir?" he addressed his boss apprehensively.
"Get me some new clothes, if you value your job, you son of a bitch!" Vince barked at the unsuspecting employee.
"Y-yes, Mr. McMahon. R-right away, sir!" the befuddled tech stuttered before scurrying off without the slightest notion as to how he was going to accomplish his boss' demand.
The five people left standing in the hall, glance around at one another in confusion.
"Nice save, big sis. I think old Vinnie Mac might just be afraid of you," Scott gave a crooked smile to Reves. A secret exchange transpired between them as they looked one another in the eye. Her bold and almost fearless sass nearly rendered him at the mercy of a raging boner, in the presence of his bros.
"Yeah, right," Heather muttered bitterly as she tore herself out of Kevin's hold. She scooted herself precariously to one of the black crates that always littered the corridors and hoisted herself up, sitting on the top. Her trembling fingers struggled to undo the laces of her skates. "I'll be sent back to that God forsaken school," she sputtered through her tears. "I told you this would go awry," she spoke to her sister, wishing the three men were not present and gawking at her, but she ignored them. She had finally loosened the first set of laces. Yanking the skate off, she tossed it to the floor with a clamor.
"Well, I didn't tell you to go crashing into the owner of WWE," Reves said coolly, crossing her arms.
"Lest you forget, this was your scheme. But it doesn't make a difference." She let the second skate tumble and clang to the floor as a fresh wave of tears began.
Unsure, Kevin inched a little closer to her. "Hey kid. C'mon don't cry," the monster of a man offered gently.
It was apparent she either didn't hear, or chose not to acknowledge his words. She hopped of the crate and began walking in the opposite direction, back towards Mark's locker room, in only her socked feet.
Kevin rubbed his forearm as he watched her go. He glanced down at the crescent shaped imprints in his flesh. Heather had clawed his skin so deeply out of terror, she nearly drew blood – not that he was fazed by it. He was however, more than a little concerned for the state the young girl was in.
If her had not been so fixed on the ebony haired girl, he would have noticed Reves exchange glances and wink at Scott before she rolled away without another thought.
"Are those new Divas?" Sean inquired. "They are smokin' hot!"
Kevin gave him a sideways glare. "Those are Taker's kids."
"Uh-ah. They used to be butt ugly!" Sean said incredulously.
Scott wanted to reach up and pop Kid in the back of the head, but Kev's hand had already connected with his skull.