WWE Fan Fiction ❯ Nothing Else Matters ❯ Chapter 1
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: TheAyslum 
Non Anime: WWE Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Suspense | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 06.23.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 203 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: WWE Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Suspense | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 06.23.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 203 | Status: Work In Progress
Nothing Else Matters
Author: Pearl
Pen Name: The Asylum
Email: Y2JsPearl@yahoo.com
Feedback: Is much loved and appreciated
Ratings: R
Contents/Warnings: Strong language, violence and blood
Genre: Drama & Suspense
Characters: Randy Orton, John Cena, Michelle McCool, Chris Jericho and Tonya Crawford
Characters mentioned: Triple H, Bob Orton, Vince McMahon, Stephanie McMahon, Batista, Ken Kennedy and Carlito.
Disclaimers: Vince McMahon and the WWE own all characters. I own Tonya.
Distributions: Ask first.
Author’s Note: This takes place after Judgment Day 2008. A Metallica song helped inspire the title for this fiction.
Summary: After weeks of losing match after match, Randy Orton grows frustrated with the wrestling business and decides to hang up his boots. Can someone convince him otherwise?
Chapters/Parts: 1/?
The Missouri sun didn’t hesitate to make its appearance through the small blinds ‘causing a sleeping Randy Orton to awake with a groan, he grabs the covers and pulls them over his head. He wasn’t in the mood to be bothered by anyone. All he wanted was to be left alone by everyone including his co-workers.
Unfortunately, the tattooed wrestler wasn’t going to get his wish as the telephone rings. He doesn’t move to answer, instead just lays there as the answering machine goes off and the sound of his voice echoes throughout the room.
“You know what to do. *beep*”
“Yo, Randy, it’s John. Just calling to see how you were doing. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. *sighs* I miss you, bro. So do a lot of the guys. If you get this, give me a call, iight?”
Since Randy had made a choice to hang up his wrestling boots, he has been receiving those same calls not just from John, but from the other Superstars too, trying to convince him to come back to work. He just couldn’t bear to step foot in another wrestling ring especially after his horrible championship title match against Paul LeVesque. It was a major eye opener and made him see that maybe being a pro-wrestler wasn’t what he was put on this Earth to be.
Randy exhales profoundly before finally getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulls a drawer out from the nightstand to grab for a clean pair of underwear. He needed a shower badly; maybe the steam from the hot water will help clear his head. The moment he stands to his feet, the doorbell rings.
The short-haired brunette sighed frustratingly before grabbing for a terry cloth robe. He placed it around his body before departing from his bedroom and walking downstairs to answer the door. Randy frowns when he encounters the facial features of Chris Jericho on the other side.
“Why are you here?”
Chris didn’t bother to ask for permission before making his way into Randy’s house sporting a black three piece suit. He speaks, “John told me what happened after Judgment Day. I think you’re making a big mistake quitting like that.”
Randy rolled his eyes at Chris’ words. “John has no right sending anybody here. I just want to be left a lone. I don’t need you coming to my house, Jericho, and getting all sympathetic on me.”
“John didn’t send me here for your information. I came on my own. I know what it’s like to quit the WWE. I did it back in 2005 and everyday, I regret it. I got so fucking upset because I was losing every match I had. Finally, I had enough and gave my resignation to Stephanie McMahon. It was the biggest mistake of my life. Sure, I had my band and doing other stuff, but still there was nothing like being inside a wrestling ring. I eat and breathe this shit, and you can’t tell me that you don’t feel the same way. I know better, Randal Keith Orton.”
Randy glared at Chris with disgust after the ricochet of his last words. “You don’t know me, Chris. You don’t know what I want. I’m tired! I’m tired of losing matches especially to guys like John Cena and Triple H! I’ve fucking had it. I refuse to stick around and become Vince’s job toy. I didn’t resign to become a jobber.”
Chris’ eyes darken as the brunette turned to walk toward the kitchen. The Canadian didn’t hesitate to follow as he replies, “Big fucking deal, Randy! So you’ve got to job to people! You’re not the only one. I lost to Carlito and Ken Kennedy at a few house shows last week. Do you see me bitching and getting all dramatic? No.”
“You don’t get it, Chris. I’ve been losing every single match Vince has given me since I’ve resigned with the company. All the matches that I’ve lost have been to either John Cena, Batista or fucking Hunter Hearst Hemsley. I didn’t resign to lose especially not to them. I’m better than that,” said Randy as he grabbed for his container of Folgers coffee from the cupboard. He strolls over to his Mr. Coffee Machine to prepare the breakfast drink.
“So, you’re just going to throw everything away like that, huh?” asked Chris sadly. Randy doesn’t say anything, he just nods instead. Chris sighs with disappointment before easing a kitchen chair out and sitting down at the table. Hesitantly, the blond wrestler speaks, “I think…”
Unexpectedly Randy slams the container of coffee down on the counter and snaps, “I don’t give a fuck what you think, Chris!” He turns mad eyes onto Jericho and growls in a low tone, “I’m getting tired of you lecturing me. I’m 28 fucking years old, Chris! I can do whatever the hell I want. Until your name is Bob Orton than don’t fucking come here, telling me what to do.”
Chris stayed silent for a few minutes after Randy’s outburst before shaking his head and standing from the table. “You know, maybe it was a mistake coming here. I came here as a friend. I was hoping that I could talk you out of making possibility a gigantic blemish, but seeing as your being such a jerk. I’ll leave.”
“Good!” Randy shouted. “I don’t need you. I don’t need wrestling. All I need is myself.”
Chris amusingly throws his hands up in response, “Fine. Than all you’ll have is yourself. When you find yourself all alone than…”
The sound of Chris’ voice was extremely irritating Randy, so he didn’t hesitate to interrupt. “Leave, Chris, before I throw your ass out!”
The well dressed Canadian surprisingly obeys by turning and walking out of the kitchen. Randy took a deep breath as his ears encounter the sound of the front door opening and than closing. He turned slightly to start the coffeepot before sitting down at the table and burying his face in his hands, silently he cries. A part of Randy missed being in the WWE, but most of him was very scared that Vince would misuse him especially since he’s lost the WWE Championship to Triple H.
--------------------
Chris sighs as he reached in the pocket of his sports coat to grab for his cell phone. He flips it open and speed dials John’s number. “John, I tried.”
“And?”
“Randy’s being a stubborn jerk, I don’t know what we’re going to have to do to convince him to come back.” said Chris as he made his way over to a sporty four door rental. He gets in, starts the car and departs from Orton’s driveway.
“We’re going to have to try something. We need Randy more than he knows.”
“Yeah, I just wish he knew that.”
“He will. Just give Randy time, he’ll come around.”
Chris breathes a hopeful sigh, “I hope.”
“Me too. Hey, at least you tried, right?”
“Yeah that’s all that matters.”
Author: Pearl
Pen Name: The Asylum
Email: Y2JsPearl@yahoo.com
Feedback: Is much loved and appreciated
Ratings: R
Contents/Warnings: Strong language, violence and blood
Genre: Drama & Suspense
Characters: Randy Orton, John Cena, Michelle McCool, Chris Jericho and Tonya Crawford
Characters mentioned: Triple H, Bob Orton, Vince McMahon, Stephanie McMahon, Batista, Ken Kennedy and Carlito.
Disclaimers: Vince McMahon and the WWE own all characters. I own Tonya.
Distributions: Ask first.
Author’s Note: This takes place after Judgment Day 2008. A Metallica song helped inspire the title for this fiction.
Summary: After weeks of losing match after match, Randy Orton grows frustrated with the wrestling business and decides to hang up his boots. Can someone convince him otherwise?
Chapters/Parts: 1/?
The Missouri sun didn’t hesitate to make its appearance through the small blinds ‘causing a sleeping Randy Orton to awake with a groan, he grabs the covers and pulls them over his head. He wasn’t in the mood to be bothered by anyone. All he wanted was to be left alone by everyone including his co-workers.
Unfortunately, the tattooed wrestler wasn’t going to get his wish as the telephone rings. He doesn’t move to answer, instead just lays there as the answering machine goes off and the sound of his voice echoes throughout the room.
“You know what to do. *beep*”
“Yo, Randy, it’s John. Just calling to see how you were doing. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. *sighs* I miss you, bro. So do a lot of the guys. If you get this, give me a call, iight?”
Since Randy had made a choice to hang up his wrestling boots, he has been receiving those same calls not just from John, but from the other Superstars too, trying to convince him to come back to work. He just couldn’t bear to step foot in another wrestling ring especially after his horrible championship title match against Paul LeVesque. It was a major eye opener and made him see that maybe being a pro-wrestler wasn’t what he was put on this Earth to be.
Randy exhales profoundly before finally getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulls a drawer out from the nightstand to grab for a clean pair of underwear. He needed a shower badly; maybe the steam from the hot water will help clear his head. The moment he stands to his feet, the doorbell rings.
The short-haired brunette sighed frustratingly before grabbing for a terry cloth robe. He placed it around his body before departing from his bedroom and walking downstairs to answer the door. Randy frowns when he encounters the facial features of Chris Jericho on the other side.
“Why are you here?”
Chris didn’t bother to ask for permission before making his way into Randy’s house sporting a black three piece suit. He speaks, “John told me what happened after Judgment Day. I think you’re making a big mistake quitting like that.”
Randy rolled his eyes at Chris’ words. “John has no right sending anybody here. I just want to be left a lone. I don’t need you coming to my house, Jericho, and getting all sympathetic on me.”
“John didn’t send me here for your information. I came on my own. I know what it’s like to quit the WWE. I did it back in 2005 and everyday, I regret it. I got so fucking upset because I was losing every match I had. Finally, I had enough and gave my resignation to Stephanie McMahon. It was the biggest mistake of my life. Sure, I had my band and doing other stuff, but still there was nothing like being inside a wrestling ring. I eat and breathe this shit, and you can’t tell me that you don’t feel the same way. I know better, Randal Keith Orton.”
Randy glared at Chris with disgust after the ricochet of his last words. “You don’t know me, Chris. You don’t know what I want. I’m tired! I’m tired of losing matches especially to guys like John Cena and Triple H! I’ve fucking had it. I refuse to stick around and become Vince’s job toy. I didn’t resign to become a jobber.”
Chris’ eyes darken as the brunette turned to walk toward the kitchen. The Canadian didn’t hesitate to follow as he replies, “Big fucking deal, Randy! So you’ve got to job to people! You’re not the only one. I lost to Carlito and Ken Kennedy at a few house shows last week. Do you see me bitching and getting all dramatic? No.”
“You don’t get it, Chris. I’ve been losing every single match Vince has given me since I’ve resigned with the company. All the matches that I’ve lost have been to either John Cena, Batista or fucking Hunter Hearst Hemsley. I didn’t resign to lose especially not to them. I’m better than that,” said Randy as he grabbed for his container of Folgers coffee from the cupboard. He strolls over to his Mr. Coffee Machine to prepare the breakfast drink.
“So, you’re just going to throw everything away like that, huh?” asked Chris sadly. Randy doesn’t say anything, he just nods instead. Chris sighs with disappointment before easing a kitchen chair out and sitting down at the table. Hesitantly, the blond wrestler speaks, “I think…”
Unexpectedly Randy slams the container of coffee down on the counter and snaps, “I don’t give a fuck what you think, Chris!” He turns mad eyes onto Jericho and growls in a low tone, “I’m getting tired of you lecturing me. I’m 28 fucking years old, Chris! I can do whatever the hell I want. Until your name is Bob Orton than don’t fucking come here, telling me what to do.”
Chris stayed silent for a few minutes after Randy’s outburst before shaking his head and standing from the table. “You know, maybe it was a mistake coming here. I came here as a friend. I was hoping that I could talk you out of making possibility a gigantic blemish, but seeing as your being such a jerk. I’ll leave.”
“Good!” Randy shouted. “I don’t need you. I don’t need wrestling. All I need is myself.”
Chris amusingly throws his hands up in response, “Fine. Than all you’ll have is yourself. When you find yourself all alone than…”
The sound of Chris’ voice was extremely irritating Randy, so he didn’t hesitate to interrupt. “Leave, Chris, before I throw your ass out!”
The well dressed Canadian surprisingly obeys by turning and walking out of the kitchen. Randy took a deep breath as his ears encounter the sound of the front door opening and than closing. He turned slightly to start the coffeepot before sitting down at the table and burying his face in his hands, silently he cries. A part of Randy missed being in the WWE, but most of him was very scared that Vince would misuse him especially since he’s lost the WWE Championship to Triple H.
--------------------
Chris sighs as he reached in the pocket of his sports coat to grab for his cell phone. He flips it open and speed dials John’s number. “John, I tried.”
“And?”
“Randy’s being a stubborn jerk, I don’t know what we’re going to have to do to convince him to come back.” said Chris as he made his way over to a sporty four door rental. He gets in, starts the car and departs from Orton’s driveway.
“We’re going to have to try something. We need Randy more than he knows.”
“Yeah, I just wish he knew that.”
“He will. Just give Randy time, he’ll come around.”
Chris breathes a hopeful sigh, “I hope.”
“Me too. Hey, at least you tried, right?”
“Yeah that’s all that matters.”