March 20, 2016

The number one contender to the Ultra Violence championship, Matt Stone, was sitting in his hotel room, one that he pretty much had locked down all year, getting a great rate by the way, watching tapes on his upcoming opponent, Dazi. He had a notepad out on his lap, jotting down things he was noticing like her propensity for going for weapons rather than actually try to out wrestle her opponent or how she liked to come in from the right side. Pretty standard things and not the best way to spend a night, but like Peyton Manning, Stone prided himself on being prepared for all outcomes, though there was one thing he wasn’t prepared for.

Nessa Wall stood outside the door for a few seconds, smoothing her still slightly damp hair, taking a few deep breaths before she finally lifted her hand and knocked on the door. Maybe, just maybe, showing up out of the blue meant he’d be thrown off his game enough to hear her out.

Stone glanced up at the door, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but there was no reason not to see who it was, probably some adoring fan who tracked him down. Getting up from the chair, he walked over and while a cautious person would have looked through the peephole, Stone just opened the door.

“Matt,” Nessa’s voice came out softly, almost hesitant. The petite blonde stared up at him, blue eyes widening as she took him in. “I know I’m the last person you expected to darken your doorway…” she paused, “may I come in?”

Matt just stood there for a moment, trying to process what was happening. Nessa was here, he was pretty sure anyway, and she wanted to come in. It didn’t take more than a cursory glance to notice that she was dolled up so perhaps this was something serious. He took a step back, allowing for her to enter, though staying silent.

She waited until he closed the door, toying with the belt on the coat she wore before undoing it. “I know what you must be thinking, me showing up here when you’ve got that big match to prepare for. I swear, it’s not like that. I just needed to talk to you and what I have to say just isn’t the sort of thing suited for an email or a series of texts or… well…” she faltered, looking down at the silver Louboutins on her feet.

“Twitter?” He offered, trying to help her along with her series of inappropriate venues. He walked back over to his chair, sitting down, showing no signs of hostility towards her, what was the point really. If she wanted to talk, then he was fine with that, talking was, after all, one of his specialities. Especially if you’ve been following his Twitter conversation with Dazi. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

“Not quite ‘discuss’,” she replied, hanging her jacket in the little closet beside the door before turning back towards him. “I feel like I owe you an apology, Matthew. A sincere one. And it’s not just because I need the closure or however you want to spin it. I need you to hear this more than I need to say it. Does that make sense?” She smoothed the ruffled skirt of the little blue dress she was wearing - a nervous habit of hers that she knew he’d see right through.

“Alright…” He said, trying to figure out what she meant, though he was feeling a little defensive already from the way she phrased that. “You can grab a towel there out of the closet if you want.” Noticing that her hair was wet and the jacket she had removed was dripping in the floor, something he couldn’t care less about, mind you. “Wouldn’t want you catching cold or anything.” He added, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

“I’m fine.” She took a few steps towards where he sat and then stopped herself, realizing that she had been dangerously close to giving in to the urge to fling herself into his arms. “I saw that match… that street fight brawl nonsense. Couldn’t not watch it, you know. Because a part of me wondered if you’d thrown your hat into that mess because you wanted to get hurt. I can see I was wrong. Obviously, since you managed to outwit them all.” She couldn’t help herself from praising him. Even now, when they were at odds, she was still one of his biggest fans.

He looked her up and down while she was approaching him, she still looked absolutely gorgeous. “I didn’t want to get hurt, I wanted to hurt people, slightly different.” He admitted, remembering back to the brawl. Sure he had spent a night in the hospital, but it was worth it nonetheless. “I usually don’t have a problem outwitting Americans, they are supporting Donald Trump, afterall.”

“Ugh.” Nessa rolled her eyes, “that circus… just an ongoing joke without a funny punchline. Further proves my point that there isn’t a single intelligent person left in this world - present company excluded, of course.” Smiling, she reached up and toyed with the necklace she wore, wondering if he realized it was the one he’d given her. “I worried about you, Matthew. Honestly, I still do…” she walked over, joining him in the other chair, adjusting the short skirt as it started to ride up before crossing her legs. “I know that’s silly. It’s not my place. I mean, you made that abundantly clear to me where we stood when you walked out of that last hotel room we were in together - I’m not going to point fingers,” she interrupted herself, sighing as she shook her head, “I’m not here to rehash mistakes or place blame. I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

Stone followed her with his eyes to the other chair, keeping them locked with hers rather than wandering around her which they were prone to do in the past. “Well thank you. I appreciate that, but I assure you there is no reason to worry about me. I’m the same man I’ve always been. There are plenty worse things to happen to me than a simple brawl. I’ll be fine Nessa, I will.” He said reassuringly, though whether he was trying to reassure her or himself was anyone’s guess.

“Hm,” she cocked her head, studying him for a few seconds, “will you?” She laughed softly at the almost rhetorical question, “I suppose you’re probably right. You’re more a survivor than I am, after all. Mika was right when she said I’m weak-willed… spineless, really. I let myself be manipulated far too often. I suppose you know I re-signed with the BWF because of course I did. The one place I knew I would never have a chance of running into you.”

He smiled at that, remembering the hell that was the BWF. Now it was just crawling with his exes. “Mika is never right, and I think deep down you know that. Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean that I wasn’t right about her. Her fixations aren’t healthy and she’s really just going to drag you down.” He paused, wondering if he should bring up his next point, settling on the old YOLO saying. “And if you were looking for places not to run into me, hiding out at the Fox boy’s house would have been a better bet.”

She flinched, looking down at her lap. “Well, I suppose I deserved that, didn’t I?”

“Suppose you did.” He answered back quickly, leaning back in his chair a bit. “But seriously, I’m just glad you’re happy now, happier than I could have made you, I’m sure.”

“I was happy.” She countered, a bitchy tone in her voice, “the reason I’m here? The real, honest to God reason? I need to know the answer to one question.”

“Forty-two.” He said bluntly, a flash of a smile on his face.

She smiled at the response, “not that one, unfortunately. If you can be serious for a few seconds… before you have to get back to whatever it was before I barged in, I just have to know one thing and I need to look at you when I ask. Do you still,” she hesitated, licking her lips, wondering if she should even bother, “before things get more serious with Shawn, I need to know. Matthew, do you still have feelings for me?”

He thought about her question for a moment, affording her the seriousness she had requested. Of course he still had feelings for her, the fact that she was asking told him that she either didn’t know him that well or, the more likely occurrence, she wanted to see if he would admit it. He looked her in her blue eyes, the eyes he used to love looking into for hours at a time before replying to her. “Of course I do. You were my whole world.”

She stared at him in silence, shocked, really, that he’d actually been honest with her. She’d expected some caustic jibe, some flip remark - some vintage Matt Stone-ism to make her feel a half inch tall. Blinking, she realized her hand was back up playing with the necklace. “Well.” The word came out as a swift exhale, almost as though he’d sucker punched her in the gut and she could feel the prickle of tears threatening. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Didn’t expect that’s how I felt or that I’d be honest with you?” He asked, studying her. “If you’d prefer something a little more expected, I could change my answer to I have a feeling you’re going to like my answer or I have a feeling you’re not going to let this go, but the truth of the matter is that I’ve always had feelings for you and I still do. Of course I do.”

“Matthew.” Nessa’s voice came out softly, “it never stopped. Okay? That’s why I’m here. Because I still love you and I can’t just shut that down and walk away, as much as I want to.”

“Well thanks, that means a lot to me. I can’t say that I’m surprised people were telling you that, though I do find it a little ironic that they were accusing me of manipulation when they were all doing it on a much larger scale. I like to think I just gave you the support you needed to make the right decisions for you, but I never thought what happened between us was right, and I’m sorry for whatever part I played in it.” An apology wasn’t something he was particularly good at, though he certainly owed her one for the way he acted towards her in the months that followed their fallout.

“Maybe…” she hesitated, weighing the words before looking back up at him, hopeful. “Maybe we can try again? Start over, perhaps. People do that sometimes, don’t they?”

He rose an eyebrow at that, thinking that over for a moment. “You want to try again? Are you sure that’s a path you’re sincerely interested in going down?”

“It is.” She moved to her feet, crossing to where he sat before perching on the arm of the chair, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And I do.”

He watched her coming over, glancing down at her hand. The smart thing to do would just be to go along with it and embrace her, but doing the smart thing wasn’t something he was known for around Nessa. “What about that other guy?”

She blinked. “To be honest, I hadn’t really even thought about it.”

“Well.” He started, looking up at her. “Don’t you think that’s something to think about?” That sentence came out a little redundant, but that was the least of his worries right now.

She opened and closed her mouth, clearly at a loss for words before she broke eye contact, withdrawing that hand on his shoulder. “Yes, well I suppose you’re right. I do need to think about it.”

“Well, and I don’t mean to get technical here, but I believe you’re proposing that I be your, as the kids are saying, ‘Hollaback Boy’. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Our first relationship started behind Houser’s back, maybe not repeating that would be a good way to start.”

Nessa nodded, looking sheepish. “You’re right, of course, Matthew. I’m not thinking clearly. We need to start over again cleanly, the right way.”

“I’m glad you think so, but…” He paused, wrapping his arm around her waist now looking up in her eyes. “I don’t want you to think I’m not interested, Nessa.”

She smiled at him, a saucy little smirk. “Honey, I can tell when you’re interested… nothing’s changed on that front.”

“I didn’t realize I was that transparent. Perhaps it’s best if you take your leave before you figure out what I want to do next.” He said, suggestively raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Oh you.” Nessa laughed, swatting him in the shoulder, “you’re right though. I probably should go. If we’re going to do this right… I need to resolve things with Shawn first.” Reluctantly, she pulled away from him, taking a step back from the chair.

“Thanks for stopping by, though, it was great to see you again.” He got up from the chair, looking over her blue dress. “Really great.” He added with a smirk, missing the view of Nessa everyday. “I’ll even do you a favour.” He said, reaching in his back pocket and taking out his phone, scrolling through for a second before clicking. “There, you now have the coolest guy online following you again.”

And it was that more than anything else that actually brought tears to her eyes, making her pause, staring at him for a few seconds while she tried to blink them away. “Matt…” she couldn’t even finish the sentence.

He saw the tears welling up and shook his head, holding his arms out. “C’mere Nessa, we can have a hug before you go.” He offered, hoping that would satisfy her darn emotions and certainly not because he’d been wanting to hug her for months now, nope, that certainly wasn’t it.

She all but threw herself into his arms, burying her head against his chest like she used to.

He held her tight, tighter than he normally would but it’d been so long since he had her in his arms, he wanted to remember this moment for as long as he could. Resting his head on hers, a smile grew on his face, the most genuine smile he’d had all year. It felt good, it felt...right.

“Thank you,” Nessa whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt, echoing his thoughts. “You have no idea how much I missed this.”

“Half as much as I did, I’m guessing.” He added, giving her a kiss on the forehead before letting her go, even being so gentlemanly to forgo his usual butt pat that normally capped off their hugs.

Reluctantly, she turned away, moving towards the door, forcing herself to focus on grabbing her jacket before she gave into the urges she was fighting back. He was right. They needed to start over fresh, honest from the start. “Oh, at least half,” she finally said, pulling the still-damp coat off the hanger.

She was doing that on purpose, he thought to himself, watching her walk over to her coat. “We’ll work out the math later, Nessa; I look forward to hearing from you, maybe even coming back next week for the show?” He asked, walking over to hold the door open for her, not wanting to give off the impression that he wouldn’t want her around.

“I’d like that.” I’ll come back for your match. Goodbye… for now.” Leaning in, she kissed him on the cheek and then withdrew, stepping out into the hallway.

“I look forward to it.” It was a simple sentiment, but he meant every syllable, watching her walk away down the hallway, but for the first time her walking away didn’t sadden him, he was glad to have had the conversation, happy, maybe for the first time this year.