Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 5: Shoutout To My Ex

"Sorry about that Steph," I breathed down the phone, relieved to be away from the pulsating beat. Some suspiciously nineties tunes were firing up behind me and from the sounds of it the night's music was going to be pretty bleak, "Is everything okay? Is it something to do with Hunter?"

I couldn't help but feel just a little alarmed. After all, my stepmother very rarely phoned me and never when she knew I was doing other things. For the last month however my father had been recovering from emergency surgery after being hit by a car – a car being driven by one of his employees, but that's another story, a long one at that – and although he was very much nearly recovered, I couldn't help but still sometimes worry a little bit. I guessed it was understandable given what had happened, on top of which I was just getting to know him. No way did I want to lose him again.

"No, no," Steph answered, sensing my anxiety and moving swiftly to put it to bed, "Nothing like that, look, I'm sorry for phoning, I know you've got your reunion going on – ,"

"Don't worry, it's fine. I doubt I'm missing anything."

Except possibly my ex-boyfriend getting steadily more hammered and my best friend spoiling to cross the floor and kick his ass.

"Doesn't sound like much of a party."

I snorted down the line at her,

"Trust me, it's not."

"What about your ex-boyfriend? Did he show up? Please tell me he didn't?"

"Um, no. He – he did."

"What?"

Stephanie practically exploded on instinct and then hushed her voice as if there was someone else around. If she was at home then it was probably Hunter and it was definitely for the best that he didn't know. In the few short weeks that Steph and I had become relatives, our once toxic relationship had fortunately grown. So much so that I had told her about Andy and my fear that he would show up and blow the party all to hell. She in turn had told me he wouldn't – that he didn't have a death wish, that he wouldn't even dare. Yet in spite of all that, there Andy was anyway, as bold as brass and getting ever more drunk.

"It's okay though, he's staying well away."

"Is Dean with you?"

"Uh huh – well – I mean, not right this moment but then neither is Andy, so I guess that makes it fine. Honestly Steph, don't worry, I'm good. Now what did you want to talk to me about?"

The corridor I had stepped out of the hall into was a long one lined by shiny red locker doors. Sauntering down it I ran my fingers across the metal and gazed around, marvelling at how little it had changed.

"Magazine."

"Huh?" I blinked in confusion, wondering if I had missed the rest of what was said,

"We were wondering if you would agree to a magazine interview."

"Me?" I echoed, laughing disparagingly. I mean, surely she meant it as some sort of joke? Perhaps it was that weird McMahonsense of humour that I was only slowly beginning to figure out. No way would anyone want to read my crazy gabbling. I mean, what would I even say for god sakes?