Unexplainable [Original Version]

[chapter sixty-eight: "on a night like this"]

Chapter 68: "On a Night Like This"
Scott Hall's POV

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"... so, I'll be back later, man. Don't wait up for me."

I don't really get a chance to reply to Kev, because as soon as he finishes talking, he heads out the door of our hotel room. There's this feeling of dread in my stomach as I sit here by myself, because I'm actually worried about how the conversation he's going to have will go.

See, Kev's going to piss Eric off because Joli still isn't allowed to come back. It's been around two months since Joli and Eric got into their little scuffle, and there's been no word of when Joli's suspension is up.

If I were to be honest, I don't really remember the conversation that let to Joli trying to knock Eric out. I remember being there, at least for a little bit of it, but I couldn't tell you what they were arguing about. At some point I left and went into the locker room, the next thing I remember from that day is Kev waking me up and telling me Joli had to leave.

Joli said it was something about Eric shit talking her and Kev, but who knows? I just don't think that's right. I mean, they might have been what happened after I left, but when I was in the room, I feel like they were talking about me.

I was drunk, I know that. I didn't feel good at all. Eric and I were talking and then Joli came in and she and Eric started yelling at each other.

Okay, it was more Joli yelling at Eric, but that's aside the point. He's a pussy compared to her.

Fuck, I really put myself over there, didn't I? If Bischoff is a fuckin' wuss compared to her, then what does that say about? I'm as fuckin' warped by Eric now as I've ever been, and it's the sad truth.

That's it. I need a drink.

I snag a bottle of beer out of the corner of the room before sitting back down on my bed. I pop my drink open, take a long swig, and then realize that I'm going to need more of this to get through the night. So, before I get comfortable, I grab the rest of the six pack and sit it by my bed.

By the time I figure out what I want to do to kill time while Kev is gone, I've finished a beer and a half. I'm not buzzed, really, but I've got a nice little bit of booze in me. It's nice.

As every intelligent drunk man does, I grab the phone and start dialing up a number. Let's see who I can get a hold of at this hour of... I look at the clock.

9:45. Cool.

I try to reach Kid first, but there's no answer on his end. Joli's my next attempt, but she doesn't answer. I'd say she's either asleep or outside, away from her phone.

For whatever reason, I try and phone Shawn, too. God, I fuckin' miss him. It's been a while since I've really talked to him. How's he doing, I wonder?

I guess he's as fucked up as I am. Hell, he's probably even worse.

Paul is the last person I try and call, and thankfully, he actually picks up. He greets me with this gruff, "Hello?" and I fuckin' grin.

It's a lopsided, drunken grin, but a grin nonetheless.

"Paul! Fuck, man, what's up?"

"How much have you had to drink, Scott?" I want to be mad because that's his first question, but I have no right to feel that way.

"Ah, what, one and a half beers?" I swish the remainder of my second beer around in the bottle before taking another drink. "Not too much."

Paul sighs, but I can tell that there's relief in it. Relief mixed with aggravation.