Something to Believe In

CH 1: The Morning After

  Michelle McCool was trouble. I should've seen it coming from a mile away. We'd known each other for a number of years, and up until she came to me for help with Matt Hardy, we'd been friendly but not exactly friends. I enjoyed annoying her, mainly because it was easy to do. But then she came to me with that story about Layla betting her she couldn't win Hardy's heart, and I was the only remotely nice guy she knew and... Well, you probably know how that turned out.

The thing is, Michelle has always been a shallow girl who cares more about herself and having fun than those around her. She's not someone I could ever see myself spending time with. Until Hardy, that is. Then she was a different person. He was good for her in a way that none of her friends ever had been. I find it weird that, despite everything I ever said to her to try and get her to change, it took someone like him...

He's not as bad as I'd originally thought, even if he did break her heart. She'd originally planned to do the same to him, so it's not like I can entirely blame him for what happened, is it? But still, it's as much my fault for getting involved in this mess in the first place as it is anyone else's. Maybe more, since she trusted me. It's my fault she's miserable and it's making me miserable.

%

"Michelle?"

"Hmm?"

"You should probably eat that instead of shoving it around your plate."

She sighs and pushes the plate away. It's the morning after Wrestlemania and I've managed to drag her from her hotel room with threats that I'll carry her if she doesn't come quietly. "Sorry. I'm not hungry." She sips her coffee. "My stomach hurts."

"Probably because you haven't eaten." I push the plate back toward her.

"It's cold."

"It wouldn't have been, if you'd eaten it twenty minutes ago." I expect her to snap at me, or show some other sign of life, but she shrugs. "I'd like to beat the hell out of that guy."

"Why?" she asks, finally looking at me. Her eyes are red rimmed. She hasn't bothered with make up or glasses or anything else. Her hair is a mess, and her clothes are rumpled, like she slept in them. "I got what I deserved."

It's been like this all morning. I can't get a reaction, other than this sad defeat. "I wish you'd stop that," I say, feeling my irritation kick in. "He's not worth the pain you're putting yourself through, McCool." I desperately want distance from this girl, the one who is sitting there, looking like she's been through the ringer. She's not the flawless diva I know and love.

"I'm the one that's not worth it."

I look down at my own plate. Truthfully, I've barely eaten more than she has. I can't stand to see the pain in her eyes. "Please tell me you're not going to be this mopey all the way to Vegas, otherwise it's going to be a long drive."

She looks at me, startled. "I forgot."

"You forgot what?"

"About Vegas." She shakes her head, and I can see the tears in her eyes. Quietly, I hand her my napkin. "I have no idea how I'm going to get there. I guess I could ask Layla."

"Already worked out," I tell her. "You're riding with me today."

"Oh." She blinks. "You're a good friend, Punk."

Her words are like a kick in the gut, but I smile at her, anyway. "Do you need my help packing today?"

"No, I'll manage. Thanks." She uses her fork to push the eggs around on her plate. "What do Gallows and Serena think of me riding with you guys?"

"They're on their own," I say.

She looks up at me. "What?"

"Gallows told me last night that he and Serena were renting a car. I took them over this morning to pick it up."

"Oh." Her brow furrows. "Just you and me, then?"

"Yep." She nods, but doesn't say anything. "Is that okay?"

"Sure," she says. "But what about Gallows? I thought he was plotting against you with Serena."

"He undoubtedly is."

"Then maybe you ought to ride with them, keep him from planning anything?"

"I'm safer with you," I tell her, even though it's not strictly the truth. "Besides, if I ride with them, how are you getting to Vegas? You're not going to drive, Michelle. Especially not alone."

She sighs and pushes the plate away again. I nudge it to the edge of the table and set mine on top of it. "I'm fine."

"You're miserable."

"Wouldn't you be?" she snaps. It's the first sign of life I've seen all day. "I finally fall in love and it backfires. He hates me because I betrayed him." Then, the spark fades. "He's right to hate me. I hate myself right now."

"Okay, you can mope in the restaurant and the hotel, but once we're on the road, it has to stop."

"I can't just turn off how I feel, Punk." Her eyes are luminous with tears.

I don't know this Michelle at all. I want my friend back.