Book One: The Viper's Bite

Eight

I'd like to start this chapter by saying I'm sorry. I'd like to continue by saying you're welcome, and enjoy.

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I spent several hours that night with a container of MAC foundation, a medium caramel powder that I wasn't sure matched my skin tone because I'd never used make-up before, and peroxide and cotton balls to combat the swollen red gashes in my neck that should've hurt like hell. When that didn't work, I brought out the purple, black and green dyes, to make it look like a bruise.

I checked my phone, saw that while I had been caught up trying to hide the bite mark, I'd gotten several texts from Mickie, Damien, and Jimmy Uso. Intrigued, I clicked open the one from Jimmy.

Cory, I forgot to mention - a call came in from HQ while you were out shopping. Vince needs you to call him back ASAP. Don't ask me why.

I groaned. Picking up my hoodie, I slipped from the room and down the hall, to the alcove that held the elevators, drink and snack machines, ice box and payphones. Pulling out some quarters, I slid them in and dialed the number I had committed to memory. It rang three times before the line was picked up. "Hello?" Vince barked.

"Uh, hey Vince. Johnny said I'd missed a call from you guys...?" I waited, twitching my foot as sounds of concentration buzzed through the speaker. "What was it?"

"We've scheduled an impromptu meeting for around eight tomorrow. We need you, as well as several other divas and superstars, to be there. Heads up," he added, "It's about the expansion of the storyline.You should be prepared for that."

And in his usual Vince fashion, the call ended, the line going dead, and I hung the phone back in its cradle with a frustrated sigh. Stepping to the side, I let my head fall to the wall between two phones, slouching as the cool seeped into my skin.

"What was that for?"

I squealed and jumped, spinning to see Damien standing there with an amused expression on his face. Congratulating myself for seeing through his beard, I raised both of my eyebrows, trying to catch my breath. "If one more person does that, I'm going to kick them right in the face." I frowned at his cool demeanor. "What do you want?" I asked, in a tone as undefensive as I could muster.

But Damien wasn't actually paying attention to me anymore. His gaze was latched lower and to the side, as if he was staring at the phone to my right, or my shoulder, or -

I pulled my hoodie from around my waist, lifting it to my face. "What was that?" He asked anyway, as if I just hadn't tried to hide the it and avoid the situation completely. "What were those markings on your -"

"Just bruises," I said, pushing my hoodie tighter around my neck.

He shook his head dubiously. "I don't think so. And even if they were, they look fresh. I didn't see any bruises when you got on the plane yesterday," he added, his eyes narrowing. I shook my head, scowling. "You don't know what you saw," I muttered, stepping around him to leave the alcove.

"I may not know what's going on," he admitted, his voice raising until it rebounded in the sheltered hall, "but I have a feeling it shouldn't be happening."

I stopped, almost turned back around. Big mistake. At my hesitation, and therefore, my stumble in judgement, Sandow pounced. "What's going on?" He asked quietly, stepping closer. I turned my head away fom him, which only exposed the gashes further. His eyes widened; there may have been makeup and dye chunked onto my neck, but the cuts were still painfully apparent. Nothing was going to be able to hide them.

Damien took in the sight with fascinated horror. "Geez, what happened?"

I gave him a sardonic look, locking my eyes with his. "I was attacked by a koala. What does it look like?" I knew my tone was condescending and subtly attacking, but dammit, he'd cornered me into it. His mouth pursed, and I shook my head. "Yea, sorry." I murmured.