December 30, 2014

Nessa Wall lay on her back in the middle of the hotel room's king-sized bed, her feet propped up on the wall with the phone pressed to her ear. Since she had no intentions of going anywhere, she was dressed in an over-sized U of T sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants with BITCH written in pink across her butt. She felt almost like a teenager again, tying up phone lines until her damned iPhone went dead— she couldn't help it. The more time she spent in Matt Stone's presence, the more she couldn't stand to be without him. Even nursing her own wounds on the heels of her loss to Kasey Summers had taken a back burner to making sure that he was okay and it wasn't just because of the guilt she felt over the beating he'd taken, either. It was driving her crazy to see him in pain.

It rang twice on the other end and she shifted the phone to her other hand, flexing her fingers beneath the wrist brace she was wearing.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up…" she whispered to herself, almost vibrating with tension. On the other end of the line, the obnoxious tone of Matt Stone's cell phone was ringing over and over, and despite being feet away from him, talking to people was not something he was looking forward to. Glancing over though, he saw the smiling face of Nessa on his display and that was encouragement enough to answer.

"Hello?" His voice was almost a whisper, but still audible.

She let out a pent-up sigh that carried across the airwaves. "Oh, sweetie… I didn't wake you up, did I?" Before he could even think of answering that, she asked another. "How are you feeling? What am I thinking? I should have asked you that first."

He looked out the open window he was sitting in front of, not seeing much of a view other than rooftops and other windows. "Ever the journalist, I see. Not a lot better than the last time you asked me that about two hours ago, to be honest, but physical wounds will heal, as you know. How about you? Your arm still up in arms, as it were?" Even in his injured state, he was still trying to make her smile.

"I dug out my old brace. Always have it kicking around in the side pocket of my wrestling kit," she let out a little laugh, the sound of the smile on her face carrying to his ears. It wasn't the joke, really. It was the sound of his voice. "So, I'm strapped in, hoping for the best… I still can't believe that four-eyed little twerp beat me. Next time I look like I'm about to accept some ludicrous challenge like that, stop me… please?"

"Yeah, no problem, though I always think you're capable of succeeding regardless of the venture, you know that. I do think it's slightly pessimistic to be carrying a brace with you, though I am glad you have it. The negativity is strong in this one." His mood is always uplifted upon speaking with Nessa, hearing her voice was much more satisfying than simply reading her words in a text message or tweet.

"Honestly," She laughed again, this time at herself, "I've got a complete Shoppers Drug Mart in there— all sorts of pills, cold medication, headache, you name it. I've got Band-Aids and tweezers and… well, you get the picture. I'm like a girl scout, honey. Always prepared." She hesitated for a second, "so… I kinda wanted to ask you something important that I forgot to ask earlier and I know this is kinda pushing it for time to throw it on you last minute… but…" she trailed off, hesitating.

"You kind of wanted to ask me? Not like, for sure wanted to ask me something? That's a shame; I always do enjoy fielding your questions. Perhaps you find your journalistic integrity again, I could answer you." He gets up from his chair and heads across the room to a bar bridge, opening it and producing a bottle of water.

"Poorly worded on my part. I just didn't want to impose in case you had plans and now time's gotten away from me." She rolled over, tapping the screen on her iPad to pull up the Twitter feed while she spoke. There was absolutely nothing of interest. Not a soul was bothering to interact with her, much the same as it usually went with the insular clique of SVW. "It's just that Harmony throws this huge New Year's party every year. Well, I've gone the last two years so she just assumes I'll be there again this time around. Mika will probably be there, and honestly, I'm not sure I can stand her sad sack whining about how terrible her life is for hours on end. Having you there with me would at least make it worthwhile."

He groaned; parties were never something he enjoyed. It was hard to be the center of attention amongst a group of people, and to top it off none of the people Nessa mentioned meant anything to him. "Not to answer a question with a question, but you'd want to drag me to a party hosted by one girl I've never conversed with save for some twitter feeds and featuring your best friend who might be slightly obsessed with you?"

"Well, Larry Gowan and Chauncy will be there too." She rushed to find someone to name drop that wouldn't turn him off the idea further.

"Oh goodie!" He interjected upon hearing the names. "I can be oogled by both genders, splendid!" His voice was sounding more sarcastic now, not liking this idea at all right now.

"Okay, so maybe it was stupid to ask. I know you don't really like any of them— truth be told, other than Harmony, I could do without the others right now myself. I mean, Mika's, well... Mika." She said it as though there was some sort of unspoken rule surrounding the Russian. "But… there's an expectation of me to put in an appearance. I totally understand your lack of enthusiasm, Matthew, really." She tapped on Harmony's profile, almost tempted to send her a message saying she wouldn't be able to make it.

"So, aside from getting to spend time with you, of course, what would be in it for me, exactly? I have no such expectation on my shoulders, I feel." He opened his bottle and headed out the door of the room he was in, heading down the hall as he awaited her response.

"Ringing in the new year with me?" She sounded almost hopeful, "there is that whole time-honoured tradition of the new year's kiss. Plus you can join me in laughing at the idiots as they get drunk."

"Why, Miss Wall, if I didn't know any better, I would think that you were offering yourself as some sort of incentive. I expect that from most of the women, but I thought you were above such offerings. This mocking of drunk people, though, sounds quite enjoyable."

"I don't have much else to offer by way of incentive, sadly. The downsides far outweigh the positives here, really. At the end of it all, it really boils down to one thing and one thing only… I want you to come for purely selfish reasons." She laughed in the face of that confession, knowing that he'd be able to tell just how sincere she was.

"I'm sure you could offer me one of many things if you put your mind to it, like for example, does this mean that I'll earn one of those elusive 'I owe you one' situations that so many people look for, if I agree to this proposal, of course."

"Absolutely," Nessa replied, nodding vigorously even though he couldn't see her. "That goes without saying."

"Without saying? I've never known you to hold back words, Ness, especially when you know how I enjoy your voice." He replied quickly, standing outside another door now, opening his water and taking a sip, wincing a bit as he raised his arm up, still feeling the effects of his brutal war with Misty Whitmore days earlier.

"Where you're concerned, it does, Matthew. You know I'd do anything for you, even without promising favours to be redeemed later." She tapped on his Twitter profile, pulling up his picture, staring at it with a smile on her face. "So, is that a yes, then? Will you be my date?"

"Well, since you put it that way, specifically, I guess I would have to say…" he purposefully trailed off as he knocked on the door he was standing in front of, hearing it through the phone. "Do you have to get that?"

Frowning, she sat up, wondering who could possibly be at the door. "Yeah, I suppose I should. Just a second, sweetie… I'm not going to put you down but…" she walked over to the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole before opening it.

There were a few things that he could have said once she opened the door to see him. Surprise, gotcha, hey, any of these words would have been appropriate, but not really his style. Looking the blonde over as she opened the door, the first words out of his mouth were, "you better be wearing something better than that."