Misconceptions [Shawn Michaels]

Chapter 37

Manager?

*Sisilia's POV*

Twenty minutes.

I've been sitting on this chair for twenty minutes.

I stared at Vince as he spoke across from me and behind his desk, but his words were muted out by the loud thoughts and haunting memories of my brain.

I couldn't concentrate whatsoever and I still had yet to actually talk and explain my condition to him.

But how?

My mind was so fuzzy that it made me incapable of trying to even comprehend a word out loud.

"So are we clear on tomorrow's script Miss Osborne? Do I need to go over anything for you? Do you have any inputs?" Vince's questioning voice slowly pulled me back to reality.

"I-I-I...umm...I..." I stuttered wildly trying to escape my mind.

Get your shit together woman!

"Miss Osborne? Are you okay?" Vince asked plastering a concern look onto his face.

Stop acting like you care you steroid addicted monkey.

I shifted in my seat trying to be more upright and focused as possible but I can feel myself failing because of his hard stare beside me.

I cleared my throat rather unflatteringly before muttering the words, "I'm fine."

Vince then settled back into his chair, rocking back and sliding the script towards me. "Take your time and go over it. If there's anything you'd like to add, you know what to do. I trust that you'll do a great job just like last time."

I internally groan as I can practically see the dollar signs floating and bouncing around in his eyes.

All this geezer really cares about is selling his shit through his puppets, that he doesn't give a flying shit about, hence why they're all leaving, no matter how cruel or dumb it might actually be, and hopes that the people like it, which for some reason they do and calls it 'the best entertainment ever.'

But I guess I can't complain since I am one of his puppets and this is the life I chose to live.

But still, there's no denying that his huge ass ego is what's really running the business and all he really cares about at the end of the day, is rolling in huge piles of money with his off-again-on-again wife, his retarded son that can't wrestle for shit and his annoyingly stupid bimbo headed daughter.

"So Miss Osborne, I believe you have something you'd like to discuss with me...about your medical condition, I believe?" Vince spoke after the short silence that fell over the office.

I cleared my throat once again before attempting to sit upright again. "Yes, but I'd much rather do that in private," I glanced to the side of me.

Vince followed my glance and let out a brief throaty laugh. "He needs to stay here or atleast where I can see him. He's been getting into enough trouble as of late," Vince then glared at him.

Well, I guess nothing's changed then.

"So what was it that you wanted to tell me?" Vince asked returning his attention on me.

I took a deep breath then exhaled.

Just go for it.

"Sir, I'm thinking of retiring from this job," I blurted out with closed eyes.

Silence...

Until a bubble gum popped.

I opened my eyes and looked at Vince who now wore a look on his face as if he was about to get run over by a train.

It took him about a full minute to recover before speaking sternly. "What do you mean? Explain yourself."

I sighed and slumped back into my seat. "My last medical results showed that I wasn't recovering as expected so now instead of totally recovering in about three months, now, it's going to take me three years. So, I thought about retirement since there's nothing else I can do. And trust me when I say, there's nothing else I can do."

Vince let out a huff and sat up propping his elbows on the desk.

"I can't let you go," He shook his head staring off into space. "You have fans; people that adore you. You're one of the very few divas that can actually wrestle and put on a good show. I can't let you go."

Silence fell over the office again for a bit of a long while before another bubble gum was popped and a throat was cleared.

"I have a suggestion."

I rolled my eyes and sucked on my teeth annoyed before looking over to Vince who actually looked like he wanted to hear what the gum smacker had to say.

Really?

"Shoot," Vince said giving the okay.

"Have her be a manager."

Manager?

"Hmm..." Vince hummed entering his thoughts. "That doesn't sound bad, but for who?"

"Who cares. Put her to model with one of your low rated pinheads. Isn't that what the 'divas' are for anyways? And she's hot, so she'll do just fi-"

Suddenly there was a loud cracking sound, but not by something suddenly breaking, but by my palm connecting to a cheek that was now rosy red.

Shocked blue eyes mirrored into my own fiery ones as I now hovered over a face that had guilt plastered all over it.

"Is that what you really think of me Michael?" I snarled into his face.

His lips were slightly parted, still shocked of my outburst, and I can practically smell the mint of his chewing gum.

We stared, well more like, glared, at each other until Vince decided to speak up. "Okay, Miss Osborne, please retake your seat."

I backed up, straightening up from my hunched over position, and sat back into my seat. My eyes never leaving Michael's.

"Miss Osborne," Vince said sternly capturing back my attention. "Whether you like it or not, it does sound like a good idea to have you be a manager. I don't know who I'll pair you with as yet, but atleast you'll still have a job and I won't be losing another great talent. So what'd you say?"

Manager?

More like being a senseless bimbo clinging and parading around with walking talking steroids with massive alter egos.

But...

I still get to be in the environment that I love and be on the road with the people that I love.

The job sucks ass, but atleast I get to stay in a place where I feel like I belong.

I let out a long stressful sigh before tsking and nodding my head. "It's a yes."

*
A/N- Well that escalated quickly.

But which pinhead do you guys think Vince will pair Sisilia with?

Who do you want Sisilia to be paired with?

Comment and let me know.

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(^I'll be doing this more often now as a nice little way to interact with you guys.)