In the morning Heather could hear knocking at the door. Mark was still out cold, one arm and his feet hanging over the edges of the bed. Cautiously, Heather answered the door in a baghy tee shirt and a pair of sweats. "Mr. Jacobs," Heather murmured in surprise. "Good morning," she added meekly, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously.
"How's Mark?" he asked.
Heather opened the door wider and gestured to the sleeping giant that was her father.
Glen sauntered into the room and shook Mark. "Mark, wake up, man," Glen said loudly.
Snapping up, Mark swung, nearly connecting with Glen's jaw. When he recognized his friend, he ran a hand through his auburn hair. "Fuck," he groused. A sharp pounding in his temple had already began. He hadn't gotten that fucked up in a long time and truth be told, he was somewhat embarrassed that his youngest was standing there staring at him. "What time is it?" he asked Glen.
"After eleven," Glen answered. "I saw you hadn't left yet, so I came to make sure everything was ok."
"Shit," Mark grumbled and sat up. "Heather, tell your sister we are going to be walking out of this room in twenty minutes. No exception!" he directed his daughter.
"Yes sir," Heather replied timidly and quickly left the room. Her brain immediately slipped into panic mode. How on Earth was she supposed to conceal her sister's ailment from their father? She acknowledged that it wasn't her concern and her sister would bring about whatever punishment of her own accord. However, she felt compelled to help her sister in conundrum as her actions held bearing on Heather as well.
She rushed to her sister's bedside. "Reves! Get up!" she cried out with urgency as she shook her in the same manner which Glen had awoken their father.
Without opening her eyes, Reves pushed her sister off of her. "Lemme alone," she mumbled groggily.
"Rev, come on. We have to leave in less than twenty minutes," Heather pleaded, placing a hand on her arm.
"Fuck off," Reves groused, turning over.
Heather stood there in mental turmoil. She needed to get Reves up and moving. Otherwise, when Mark came in, it would not be pleasant. Just then a scheme invaded her and she would daresay it was far from intelligent. She ran to the bathroom and filled a plastic sup with cold water from the faucet.
Gripping the cup, she stood over her sister. She hesitated to execute her design as she was well aware of the explosion that would ensue due to her actions. Nevertheless, she was running out of time. Her heart was pounding like a drum against her rib cage. She bit her lip and inhaled sharply. She held her breath as she poured the cold water over her slumbering sister.
With a jolt, Reves sat straight up in bed sputtering and coughing. "What the hell! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Reves shrieked, as she wiped away excess water from her face. Her already smeared make-up was streaking down her enraged face.
Heather backed away slowly, still gripping the now empty cup. She stared at the fury her sister emitted with wide eyes. "I-I'm s-ssorry. I had to wake you up. We're leaving," Heather told her defensively.
"I'm. Going. To. Kill. You," Reves growled, ignoring the pounding that was starting to pulse in her cranium. She was beginning to feel as if she had been bludgeoned by a sledgehammer. She leapt off the bed as a wave of dizziness swept over her and left her with debilitating nausea. Reves braced herself on the night stand, then ran to the bathroom where she vomited out her insides.
Heather was walking towards the bathroom when she heard her father making his was towards their room. She shut the door to the bathroom just as Mark burst into the room.
"What the hell is going on in here?" he roared.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I think Rev consumed something bad last night," Heather was putting all her might into sounding as normal as possible.
Mark glared at his youngest child through narrowed eyes. She was hiding something more. Her face said it but he was in too much agony to deal with it at the moment. He closed his eyes for a moment before informing her that they'd be checking out in ten minutes. Then he left.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Heather grabbed the doorknob to the bathroom with a trembling hand. She was certain that Reves was going to be exposed at that moment. They were far from clear.
When she entered the bathroom, Reves was rinsing her face with cold water. "You marginally escaped Dad's wrath," she informed her sister, "Fortunately for you, I'm not sure whether or not your condition supersedes his. You know your poor decisions are really going to cost you one day," she said as she gathered her sister's hair loosely into a hair tie.
"Just don't. Leave my hair alone! It makes my head hurt even more," Reves snapped, pulling her abundant hair free and letting it fall around her.
"Of course," Heather squeaked, blinking back tears. She was simply trying to aid her ailing sister. Heather left the bathroom momentarily and returned with her sister's toothbrush and the toothpaste. "Here, we have to go very soon," she whispered, giving her the items.
Her sister didn't look at her, but Reves could tell by the glassy look in her eyes and the edge in her voice that she had cut her sister. "I'm sorry," Reves told her, taking the items she offered. "Thank you," Reves attempted to speak gently.
Heather only nodded her head, not meeting her sister's gaze. She left the room again to be certain everything was stowed away and they were ready to depart.
Reves emerged from the bathroom and crammed the toothbrush and toothpaste into her bag. She pulled out a black hoodie and slipped it over her head, pulling up the hood to help hide her face.
"I think it's a little warm for that attire," Heather commented.
"I don't give a shit," Reves retorted, glaring at her sister before she slipped on her sunglasses.
Heather merely sighed and pulled up the handle on her rolling suitcase.
"Hey man, I don't have anyone to ride with and you don't look to be in any damn condition to be operating a vehicle. Do you want me to drive?" Glen asked Mark.
"Yeah, sure man. That'd be great actually," Mark replied. He glanced at the clock and said, "We better get going.
As the four of them made their way down to the rental car, they passed Hall and Nash. They were leaning against their rental Cadillac as they waited near the front entrance. Scott and Kev were waiting for Kid to finish kicking the broad out of his room and check out.
Kevin grunted. He was getting impatient. Despite of the fact that he was the only one who would ever fucking drive, he always got blamed when they were late; not that her really gave a damn.
The Outsiders greeted the so called 'Brothers of Destruction' as they passed. The Calaway sisters were in tow, with the petite raven-haired girl supporting her obviously hung-over sister. What little that could be seen of her face was pasty and sickly in appearance.
"You got her drunk last night, didn't you?" Kevin asked in an accusing tone, narrowing his eyes at Scott.
"No," Scott replied defensively. "I simply didn't stop her." Scott watched her, feeling guilty. Poor thing. He would look after her; take care of her, if he could…
Nash had much to say to that, but Kid was approaching from the hotel now. "Fuck, Kid. Took you long enough," he griped, looking at his watch.
"Whatever man. You've taken shits longer than that," Kid replied, shrugging him off.
"You know he's right," Scott smirked, looking at Kev.
Nash grabbed both the smaller men in a friendly headlock, and dragged them to the door of the car. "Just get in. We're already late, children."
Reves leaned against the window. Although her hood was pulled up and she wore her sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun's illuminating rays, she had to close her eyes. She had popped two Excedrin, but the hammering in her head wouldn't cease. She was barely aware that her father was in the same condition. She briefly wondered why Glen had to ride with them and drive. She decided she didn't care as long as it meant her father was in no condition to address her transgressions.
Mark looked at his daughters briefly in the rear-view mirror. Reves appeared to be suffering. That was suspicious enough. It was Heather's apprehensive look that added to his suspicion. Her eyes darted back and forth as she had an open book in her lap, yet her eyes never fell on the page. "Everything ok, girl?" he questioned, causing her to jump. He regretted ask, only because his own voice beat like a drum inside his skull. Damn, he hadn't felt like that in a long time. How much had he drunk last night? He was a giant of a man; therefore, it took more than a couple beers and a shot to get him buzzed.
"I-I'm just concerned for you is all," she replied gently.
Mark knew there was more to it than that, but he decided he didn't have the energy to press her. "Don't go worrying about me, girl. I'll be fine. Got it?" He was thankful when she nodded in understanding because every spoken word was like a chair shot to the head. This was going to be a long day.
Even as the hang over subsided and a feeling of clarity began to return, Mark was far too busy to address his daughter's actions. He would have to said set her in her place when he had a moment. As of right now, he had none.
Reves lay on the leather couch, still overcome by nausea and a splitting headache.
Heather studied her from the loveseat opposite of where she lay. "I still cannot comprehend your frame of mind when you resolved this was a wise decision," Heather said dryly.
Her tone only agitated Reves more. "You can't comprehend it because you have the mind of a loser," Reves barked.
Heather was utterly stunned by her sister's harsh words. She would expect such a callous remark from one of those shallow bullies at school, but this was her own sister. She sat in shock, eyes brimming with tears. "Well, suffice that I am not the one indisposed at this present time from such unfortunate dissertation," she finally spoke before rising from the sofa and storming out of the room, leaving her sister wallow in her own misery.
Heather didn't really have an inclination as to what her destination was supposed to be as she wandered the corridors aimlessly, something that was impressed upon her not to make a habit of, especially after her run in with McMahon. Various crew members rushed past her to and fro without so much as a glance. She passed a few of the talent, one of whom was a hopeful jobber she had never met.
She stopped, taking a seat on a randomly placed black cargo crate. She sighed as an aching feeling over took her chest. She felt as if her sister was slowly transforming into someone else, a stranger. She didn't have the same patience for her as before and rather than confide in her, she seemed to prefer to harbor secrets. After the news of Reves's biological mother was revealed, it caused a rift that seemed impossible to med however hard she struggled to bandage this festering wound.
A lone tear slid down her milky cheek. She wiped it away when she noticed people approaching in her peripherals. Heather noticed her friends and she secretly wished they hadn't crossed her path.
Amy was laughing at something Matt had said, but when her eyes fell upon Heather, her continence changed to one of concern. "Heather, what's wrong?" she asked after seeing Heather's sullen expression.
"It's nothing. I'm fine," Heather responded, attempting to shrug it off. She did not meet the three pairs of eyes staring back at her.
"Come on, you don't hang out in the hallway brooding all by yourself," Jeff pressed.
She relented. "It's nothing, really. Rev and I got into this insignificant spat," she said.
"I told you. Sibling rivalry," Matt chuckled. "See, the problem is – no offense – younger siblings are always so annoying and us older siblings always have to set them straight." Matt placed a hand over his heart as if that were the honest to God's truth.
"Yeah right!" Jeff snorted. "It's the older ones who are always picking fights and bossing us around."
Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her fiery hair swayed around her. "See? Even at their age, they don't grow out of it," she said with a smile.
The grin started to creep across Heather's face as she watched the brothers now play punching one another. She didn't know if her circumstances were quite the same, but their playful bickering certainly took some of the weight off of her heart.
"Will you two knock it off?" Amy feigned agitation while fighting the smirk that was crawling across her lips.
"Oh! Hey, check this out," Jeff said to Heather, suddenly no longer paying mind to his older brother. He pulled something from his pocket and placed it into Heather's tiny hands.
Heather stared at a rectangular card, puzzled. "What is this?" she questioned with hesitation. It appeared to be some sort of identification.
"A buddy of mine made it," Jeff answered with a nonchalant shrug.
She studied the card again. The female in the photo hard even resembled Heather by a stretch. One would either have to be intoxicated or ill in the head to surmise that it was indeed her in the mug shot.
Heather pushed it back towards Jeff. "I cannot use this," she declared. She tried to return it as if it seared her flesh.
"You don't have to drink or anything," Amy stated.
"We just thought maybe you would want to do some karaoke again sometime, or whatever. Got one for Rev too." Jeff pulled it out.
Were they mad? That was completely asinine. It was disgraceful enough that that man had let them into that bar to begin with. Now they were resorting to forging legal documentation?
"No sweat," Jeff said unfazed and put the cards back in the pocket of her baggy jeans.
"So, what's happening today? Mark in wrestler's court?" Matt asked.
Heather shrugged. "Not that I have any knowledge of." She sighed, hopping off the equipment crate. "I'd better make my return. I was instructed not to leave the locker room," Heather informed them.
"Okay. Say hi to Rev for us," Amy told her.
Heather nodded as they bid goodbye to one another.
When Heather returned to the locker room, Mark was nowhere to be found and Reves had fallen asleep once more. She sat down and opened a collection of short stories penned by Angela Carter.
Periodically, she would glance over at her slumbering sister. She knew she should be ready to make amends, but she found herself beginning to nurse a grudge as she recalled prior incidents of her sister's hostile behavior towards her. Heather was well aware of the absurdity of it all, but her sister's foolish mockery had gotten under her skin. She was nearly resolved to prove to her sister how wrong she was. She silently admonished herself. In what manner was she to accomplish that, exactly?
A though briefly flicked through her mind and she sincerely wished hadn't. She was far from keen on the thoughts that were intruding her brain: if she were to utilize that horrendous ID to hang out with her friends at a bar or club, she would not be branded such a "loser."
Heather confessed how much this made her out to be a hypocrite. She had faced it at all at school; peer pressure and coercing. She pushed the outlandish notion from her head.
"Damn it. Are you listening to me, Hall?" Vince barked drawing Scott from his thoughts.
"Yeah, Vin-man. Heard every word," Scott replied mechanically. After an aggravated glance, Vince continued. He was droning on about the plans for tonight's show. What did it matter? Once again, the nWo guys were getting buried in favor of Vince's favorite nut lickers, like Rocky. Hell, Scott knew it was a work, he wasn't a stooge. But getting buried on national tv every week was the shits.
Hall's thoughts were trained on the platinum hair vixen. He felt guilty for letting her become so intoxicated. He shouldn't be dragging her into his issues. He had never asked to become privy to her dilemmas either, but she had invited herself inside. He knew he shouldn't be thinking of more than what was on the surface. He already had a failed marriage and countless fail relationships under his belt. Was he supposed to chisel away at her icy heart when he was a complete disaster himself? His thoughts were racing faster than he could comprehend. The one thing he understood was that he wanted to spend more time around her aside from fucking.
When Mark entered the locker room, Reves was coming to. Her headache was starting to recede, but she still felt like shit for the most part.
"Alright girl, what's your malfunction? No bullshit either? Where did you get the shit?" Mark demanded.
"What are you talking about?" Reves looked at him with dark, droopy eyes.
"You think I was born yesterday?"
"Well, if you were, you're one big baby," Reves smirked, trying to deflect the question.
"Don't you fucking play dumb with me, girl!" Mark growled through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at her.
Heather clutched her book as her anxiety was mounting. She was huddled on one corner of the loveseat.
Reves only stared at him.
"Get your shit, right now!" Mark roared at her. He turned to his younger daughter with a calmer, but still gruff tone. "Heather, you're going too. You can thank your sister."
Heather only nodded and began to immediately pack up her things.
"I'm going to let Vince know. Then I'll be back in five minutes to take you back to the hotel," he told them.
"Why do you constantly have to defy him?" Heather asked once he was gone.
"Why do you constantly have to be such a suck up?" Reves retorted, dripping venom.
"I'm not. But I am not foolish enough to insight anger in him on purpose," Heather returned.
"Oh, please! What can he really do anyway? What has he ever really done to exercise his authority? He's just full of empty threats...and empty promises."
"Well this is a crock," Reves huffed, throwing herself down on the hotel bed after she finished pacing for the better part of five minutes.
Heather took her eyes off the page of her book and gave her sister a sideways glance. She fought the urge to respond, "Well, if you hadn't gone and been so unruly, we wouldn't be here." She thought better of it, not wanting to ignite another skirmish.