Fan Fiction ❯ Blue Monday ❯ Blue Monday ( One-Shot )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Title: Blue Monday
Author: Angelface
E-mail: Angelface0001@hotmail.com
Rating: PG 13
Content: Implied slash (m/m), het (m/f), angst?
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters. I'm not implying anything about real persons. I'm not making profit.
Summary: Um... like... HHH brooding (yes, yes, I suck at this, right?)

Notes: I simply felt like it. It probably sucks.

Notes#2: Fiction is inspired by "Blue Monday" by New Order (which I don't own). I don't know how that happened.
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So that's the price I finally have to pay, huh? It was all working so good. Ok, ok, it has never been nice, but it's starting to get unbearable.

Here she's lying in my arms. Sleeping like a baby. Her scent filling the room. I hate it. It makes me sick. It reminds me of her taste. She's most certainly not what I want. Everything inside me is detesting her. Every of my senses is screaming to get away from her.

But I remain lying here, with her in my arms.

Unable to move.

It looked like such a good idea.

Become a part of the McMahon family.

Be the game. Everything in control.

It served me well.

My freedom, such a small price to pay for my new position in the company.

I did the right thing.

She wanted me, and I?

Personal feelings are not important when it comes down to business.

I feel so dirty. So used. Abused by myself.

And everyday I have to see what I threw away. I see Test. He has missed it. He was just not good enough for her, had to leave the stage short before he achieved his goal. My spot.

But why is he looking so happy? If I was him, I'd be spending day and night brooding about what I could've had. Even now. Instead he's happy with his "buddy".

I'll be out for what seems like eternity. She was so caring. So comforting. Said I should see the positive side. We'd be together a lot more since I'm injured. We'd spend the nights like a normal couple. Time for romance. Time for feelings.

Feelings?

I can feel myself dying every second she's around me.

I see all those happy faces and I'm pretending to be one of them every day ...and every night.

I don't want to be playing the loving husband anymore. I want to wash myself clean. There should be nothing remaining of her. She's like a sickness. Perforating your guts. At least that's what my stomach feels like.

I have to get back on stage as soon as possible. I don't know how much more of her comfort I can take without destroying either one of us. Should be her. Would be myself, I guess.

When I'm on the road, at least I can dream. I talked a lot to the boys lately. Some of them are really nice guys. Like Kurt, you wouldn't believe it, but the guy's so funny, you can talk and laugh with him for hours.

Or like his buddies Edge and Christian. They are so happy together, it's nearly unbelievable. Everytime I see them it's like a small ray of sunlight warming my heart. But it's also like a dagger piercing through my intestines.

Stephanie is actually a nice person. A bit annoying sometimes. But that's ok, I guess.

Then I see those Hardys. I would never tell them or anybody, but I'm throughout a mark. I love the way they are fighting. The way they are flying through the air. Those high risk manouvers.

As if there was no tomorrow. Free to do what ever they like. And doing it.

But none of them was WWF champion. Not one of them.

They'll always stay midcarders. Why? Because they're not selling the one thing that it takes.

Themselves.

I wished I could reach out and touch them. They have something I'll never have again. I need to be hold. By someone just like them. But that will never happen.

It's not that bad.

Ok, it is.

It's worse.

It's like something strangling you. That belt makes it hard to breathe.

I know that I'm not the only one. That belt and whatever the holder had to do for it has destroyed more souls than anything else in the fed.

Sometimes it's obvious. Like Austin.

Sometimes not. Like Rocky.

I thought I was strong enough. I thought Stephanie was the best of all possibilities.

I was thinking too much.

I sold myself for a piece of gold I don't even have right now. Right now I only have Stephanie lying in my arms and frankly, I think I'm gonna puke sometime soon.

But I can't escape. This is what I worked for. I worked for it for far to long. And I'm not alone anymore.

Well, I am alone.

Sometimes I like to dream I was one of them. One of those Hardys. Scary though, I know...

...but why not?

Because I am the game. Because I'm not like that anymore. Because I'm on top of the world. Because I... have nothing more to give.

But still life is so damn demanding. So is Stephanie.

I don't think she does it intentionally. But she does it.

In the end it was my own fault.

But I shouldn't complain. Once I'm alright again I will see all those people who haven't what I have. Who have what I haven't.

As for now, I have to go through with it.

I tighten my arms around Stephanie, inhale her scent deeply, kiss her on the neck. We're meant to be.

~*~----------------------------@ End @----------------------------~*~