Thanks again Morrowsong for the review. Yeah, they are coming along, but it's taken a little longer than I thought and wanted in some ways. :\
Mark paced back and forth in front of his daughters like a caged animal. He had been silent since entering the door. Both girls pleaded with him mentally to speak. The silence was agonizing to Heather, though she could tell by the hard expression on his face, the manner in which his words would come out. Reves, on the other hand, could only think of how cumbersome this all was and wanted a quick ending.
Mark stopped. His steely gaze fell over each girl in turn. He exhaled sharply before he spoke. "Just what the hell, do you think you were doing?" His voice was low, surprisingly even and calm. Mark's eyes zeroed in on Reves, as he knew she would be the first to speak.
Indeed, the blonde jumped on the defense of both of her sister and herself. "It was an accident. She couldn't stop. But never mind all that. You should have heard the way he berated us!"
"So, I heard," Mark said, taking her plea with a grain of salt. "But despite your thinking, your shenanigans aren't cute. Far from it." His voice was being to escalate. "This isn't a playground. A lot of people are working their asses off to make sure the show goes off without a hitch." He looked at them once more. Heather's head was lowered in shame. Reves was staring daggers though him. "And what is it you were doing? Playing roller derby with the owner and Chairman. My boss!" Mark's fist clenched. He was getting angry and he knew he needed to remain calm. He let out a breath as if trying to release all the negative energy. "I could have been fired thanks to your games!"
Heather gasped, her own guilt working on her. She wanted cry, but she had done so much of that already.
"Yeah right," Reves scoffed.
"What did you say?" Mark demanded "You think this is some kind of comical joke? Obviously, you aren't a bit sorry over your conduct."
"I didn't run into him," Reves said, matter of fact as she glanced at her sister.
"That may be, but it certainly was your brilliant plan, wasn't it?"
"I never planned for her to wreck into him," her words were nonchalant.
"Girl! I'm this close to..." Mark stopped himself despite the fact that steam was practically rolling out of his ears. Truth be told, it was the deposition of his youngest that caused him to think twice about his threat. She was already in tears and all too contrite. Mark was dumbfounded. Clearly, a punishment was in order, yet strangely, the more he though about it, the more sympathy he had. Still, he knew he couldn't let it slide. If he gave them an inch, they would run a mile, particularly Reves. "Ugh!" he grunted. "Don't think you are off the hook, not for a second. I gotta think about what I'm gonna do. I'm going to see if Vince has cooled off enough that you can apologize to him." He started off, then turned, "I think it goes without saying that you are not to step one toe outside this door. If you do, you'll be on the next plane home and you'll never be back. I promise you." Mark's deep timbre resonated off the walls, leaving Heather quaking in her shoes and Reves thoroughly annoyed. Mark left them alone with his threat as their only boundary.
"I sincerely hope he does not exile us," Heather squeaked.
"Exile? What is this, King Arthur's court? Besides, he's not going to do shit." Reves asserted.
"How can you be so certain?" Heather questioned. "This wasn't a couple of colleagues. This was Vince McMahon."
"I don't give a shit if it was President Bush," Reves stated boldly.
Heather gasped; her eyes wide in shock. "Rev, you shouldn't speak like that. Dad could lose his job!"
"I'm sure they've got the cameras rolling already," Reves remarked scathingly.
Fresh tears sprang from her sister's jeweled eyes. "I don't wasn't to go back there," her whisper nearly inaudible.
If her innocently naïve sister were to ever learn of the power and persuasion her tears wielded, certain doom was to befall each and every victim at the mercy of her enchanting essence. Whether she knew it, or whether she chose to conceal the knowledge, she had their father wrapped around her slender, nimble finger, as it were.
Too bad McMahon seemed to be impervious to her precocious charm.
"Do you think I want to see you go back to that Hell hole?" Reves questioned, agitated. "The place that reminds you every day that your life is a lie?"
"It's not a lie…" Heather speech was mumbled and slow.
"How else do you explain it?" Reves demanded
Heather sat with her hands in her lap. Her head dropped and her silence spoke for itself, proving Reves point.
In the next instant, Mark reentered the room. He looked at the girls and he was somewhat at a loss. He could see that Heather was really torn up about the situation, but Vince was still angrier than a hornet on a hot summer day.
Mark let out a long, exasperated sigh. The girls had done wrong; they could have cost him his job. It pissed him off that they could be so careless. Yet, when he looked down at his weeping youngest, his heart seemed to melt a little. This was at times, a source of disagreement between Sara and he, as she felt he spoiled her a little too much.
There was a low rumble in Mark's throat. Look, it's getting too close to show time to take you back to the hotel. I'm still undecided as to what to do with you two. So, stay here for now." He left again, though the sisters were unaware of other items on the agenda.
Ha, if he thought Reves was simply going to hangout he was sorely mistaken. It's not like he used threaten words such as "I mean it," or "So help me."
"I'm gonna go get a Coke. You want?" Reves knew she wouldn't dare leave the room.
"No. I- I think you should just wait for Dad to come back," Heather warned.
"I'm just getting a drink," Reves scoffed.
Heather sat, still and silent, they worrisome expression clouding her pretty face.
Reves shrugged. "Suite yourself." After another instant, she was gone.
Heather said nothing at her passing, though the apprehension was evident on her face. Lately, she had been feeling it was futile to attempt to persuade Reves in a different direction once her mind was set.
Heather grabbed her book, but her mind was too fretful to focus and after a few minutes, she put it away. She released a restless sigh, her head propped on her elbow and her green eyes scanned the room. Her eyes fell on her electronic keyboard. She had happened to bring it along, though they hadn't planned on recording any demos. Perhaps she had an inkling that she would have need of it. She knew the music could help calm her mind. She didn't know why she didn't rely on it more.
She placed the electronic instrument on the coffee table. She sat and after ensuring the settings were correct, she decided to practice a new piece she had recently been learning.
When Heather's fingers danced over the keys it was like a magical symbiosis was taking place. She became one with the music and every note resonated within her. Sometimes she felt as if it was the only thing she could truly control. Certainly, books were a means of great escape, but she was still merely a spectator as the author penned the story they wished to tell.
Kid was still gushing over the look on McMahon's face as he landed flat on his back. Yeah, that shit was funny as fuck, but truth be told, neither Hall or Nash were paying attention to seventy-five percent of what he was saying. Both men's thoughts were fixated on the those pesky Calaway sisters, yet for grossly unique purposes.
Daresay Scott was bewitched by the blonde's emboldened stance against Vince. Even some of the biggest badasses in the locker room didn't have the balls to challenge Vince in such a manner. She was either fearless or stupid. She a had a reckless streak that was intriguing him more and more.
Despite attempting to focus on other matters, Kevin's mind kept wondering back to that damned kid. Vince had her quaking in her sneakers. She was timid as it were. Then to have someone as imposing as Vince McMahon shouting in her face must have been terrifying for her. While they may not have straight up cried, he had seen grown men turn pale and practically tremble as Vince tore them to shreds. He couldn't stop himself from wondering is she was doing ok after everything. He hoped Mark wasn't too hard on them. She already seemed heart broken.
He replayed the scene in his head. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he recalled the immaculate grin, she wore an instant before she was hit with the horrid realization that she was going to collide with the Chairman. The impact had sent her reeling. Fortunately, he was able to catch her, just inches from the floor. Her large, green eyes contained a look of shock as she gazed up at him.
He didn't know exactly why, but he felt compelled to reassure himself that she was fine. Kevin concocted some bullshit excuse that all this was wearing on him and he need some coffee (with a chuckle, of course).
"I could use some too. I'll go with you," Sean said.
"Nah, man. Stay, I'll get it." Kev replied promptly.
Sean thought that was a little odd. Kev never really went out of his was to do that type of stuff for people, but who was he to argue? "Whatever Kev," he said leaning back in the folding chair. "Hey, don't spill it all over yourself. Watch out for clumsy skaters," Sean cackled.
Damn it, Scott cursed mentally. He was going to seek out the little vixen. That is if Mark didn't have her under lock and key or on the next flight back to Texas. He knew Mark was protective, but she was an adult able to make her own decisions. He wanted to go, but he couldn't just leave Kid without an excuse.
Kevin hoped it wouldn't look too strange knocking on the door if Mark happened to be around, but he was there after all; he had witnessed Vince being a complete prick towards the girl. As he approached Mark's locker room, he could hear piano music come from the other side of the door. He stopped for moment to listen.
It sounded like the girl was in there rocking out. It must have been a classical piece. He imagined her probably carried the same expression as the night she sang the Bush song in the bar. A small smirk played on his lips as he knocked on the door.
Heather jumped on the other side as the thunderous banging interrupted her. People seemed to have a knack for intrusion and it was beginning to impact her disposition negatively. She huffed as she pulled her hands into her lap. She could always feign that the room was vacant. Yet, she deduced that they had likely heard the music produced by the keyboard.
Opening the door, Heather was struck with a wave a déjà vu. Standing outside the door was the imposing gargantuan figure of Kevin Nash. Hadn't this scene played out mere weeks prior? "H-hello," she muttered, though it came out sounding more of a question.
Kevin glanced at the keyboard on the coffee table. "Sorry if I interrupted you," he said coolly in his bass voice.
She looked at the electronic instrument as he did. Then her sight fell to the floor as her hands clasped in front of her. "Uh…n-no, not at all," Heather whispered.
"That was pretty sweet. Was that Mozart or some shit?"
"It's Camille Saint Saen's 'Aquarium'. I'm just learning it," she replied.
"She's cool, too," he shrugged, having never heard the name.
Heather blinked her large eyes at him. "You mean he, correct?"
"Eh, whatever. That's totally a chick name."
"Well, I suppose not in eighteenth century France," she quipped, adjusting her glasses.
Her emerald eyes raised towards him. An unexpected smile slowly creeped across her becoming face. There was a hint of a giggle and the expression she wore told him that she thought he was a complete stooge.
Somehow, part of him didn't care. At least she was smiling. She deserved to be smiling all the time.
"How are you holding up after your little incident? Was Mark really pissed?" he questioned, remembering why he had sought her out in the first place.
She was taken back a little that her had came out of his way to inquire about her wellbeing. Why was it any concern of his? She was of no significance at all. For reasons unbeknownst to her, her heartbeat picked up pace and she felt her palms grow sweaty. She raised her gaze as her curious eyes studied the brown flecks in his green eyes. It was a trait she observed during their last encounter such as this. Whatever the reason, he exuded genuine concern, something she received from few in this world.
She averted her eyes when she realized he was staring back at her. "I am not sure what will occur as a result," her voice was barely audible and she held back large tears.
Guilt washed over him as he looked down at the bashful creature. She had been wearing a beautiful grin just moments before. Now she was on the verge of weeping all over again.
"I'm sorry. This isn't your ordeal. You need not fret about me, really." A lone tear slid down her cheek. "Thank you for catching me, though. That was completely mortifying." Her face flushed a deep crimson.
"No problem. I almost threw out my back though." Kevin grinned at her in hopes she would perk up.
Initially, she frowned, biting her lip. Just as he was about to tell her it was a joke; she was overcome with the comprehension. Her full lips drew a slight smile as her glassy eyes gleamed from the tears.
She peered up at the gentle giant, bewildered by the undeserved kindness he had shown her.
"I have to get going. Don't worry, everything will be fine. Keep working on the music. See ya, kid," Kevin said before turning way.
His words broke her fixation, bringing a right blush to her soft cheeks. "B-bye," she mumbled after he was already gone.
The Chairman paced on his office. The majority of his rage had left him. Still, when someone attempted to mortify him, whether maliciously or not, they needed to be dealt with. Vincent Kennedy McMahon was no one's fool. He could not believe Mark's kid would snap back like that. His own children didn't even speak to him like that! (Not in real life.) It enraged him, yet he couldn't deny, the girl had spunk and bigger balls than half his roster.
Then there was the matter of the Kliq boys laughing that asses off at his expense. He would not tolerate that shit. Something had to be done. He wasn't quite sure just what it was, but the cogs were turning in the head of the evil genius.