016

February 14, 2015 (off camera)

The laptop sat open on the bed, Samantha Tolson's Twitter feed open in front of her. She scrolled through, clicking from one conversation to another, watching the newcomer flirt with Jake the webmaster as though he was the hottest guy in the universe. It reminded her of Snagglepuss Aly throwing herself at Kyle back in the day and the whole thing reminded her just how lonely she really was.

At the clicking of claws on hardwood, she looked up and grinned as her orange cat sauntered into the room. "Hey, Georgie! What's up?"

The cat meowed back and hopped up on the bed, creeping towards her computer. He started rubbing his face against the corner and she absently patted his head.

"Yeah, I know. You're totally full of squish but I've got to get a handle on this thing and really... I mean... I can't lose to a total nobody, right? My career would be doomed forever."

"MROW!"

"I know! I'd be a laughingstock!" She reached for her phone, checking the display. Still no messages from Hunter and it was the middle of the afternoon. "Maybe he forgot. He probably got stuck at the bar last night really late and stuff. It's no big deal, George."

It was.

She reached for the half full bottle of Jack Daniels, settling it between her Indian-style crossed legs as she tapped the keys. Camp Nightfall. Where had she seen that before? Plugging it into Google, she was rewarded with a headshot of the ginger-haired Ryan Corey and his Wikipedia entry. Former wrestler. Hall of Famer. Owner of Camp Nightfall— wait. Hall of Famer in FTW?

"Holy shit." She said it aloud, reaching for her phone again. Still no messages. Pulling up her contacts, she clicked on Lex Collins and started typing a message.

Hey so am I on crack or is Ryan Corey the guy you beat in like your fourth match with FTW?

She sent that and then took a swig of her booze before typing out another.

Did you know he has a school and stuff? No lie. Apparently he's teaching the next generation now and if it's the same guy I remember you going against, he was about as exciting as croutons in a lettuce salad so like... text me back, k?

Her phone remained silent.

The red card with Hunter's name on it sat on the nightstand. Inside was the sappiest card she could find and great seats for Weird Al Yankovic— she knew he loved Weird Al and wanted to surprise him. And now, she had two tickets for a concert she really didn't want to go to and a boyfriend who was apparently avoiding her on Valentine's Day. Great.

As if that wasn't bad enough, she had that match with Sam Tolson at Chaos Theory looming.

"Fuck you, Hallmark— who died and gave you the right to make me feel like shit, huh?"

"MURAK!" George threw in his two cents and then flopped down beside her, his ass half on the laptop's keyboard.

"Stupid fuckin' Vamlemtimes," her tongue tangled on the word but she didn't care. The only one listening was her ginger cat and he wasn't about to go blabbing. Outside the windows, New York was still gripped in the middle of a deep freeze. She hadn't even ventured outside today, thus the amber-colored gasoline she was knocking back. If she'd had her pick, she'd have opted for some Boone's Farm wine coolers or something fruity.

Hunter was now approximately eight hours late and her phone hadn't rung once. Of all the days for him to blow her off, this was probably the worst. "Y'know, I don't really blame him," she mumbled, tipping the bottle at the cat before taking another slug, "who wants to be with the biggest loser on the planet? Nobody, that's who! Even Bryan Deas had a date tonight..." she paused, as though the cat was saying something back, "yeah? So what if he had to pay for it— still a date."

The bottle fell against the bed as she laid back. "Fuck 'im, George. I got you. That's all that matters, right? You an' me... we're..." she closed her eyes for just a second and then...


February 15, 2015 (off camera)

The front door of her apartment opened with a creak and then quietly shut. Hunter Donimari stood there, looking about as exhausted as he felt. It had been a long drive from Chicago, through horrible weather, but it had been worth it, knowing he'd see Kasey at the end of it. Half-frozen, he shivered and unzipped his jacket, hanging it on the hook beside the door before turning and locking it. He was a little late for Valentine's Day, but he'd more than make up for it— the gigantic paper bag in his hand was filled with all sorts of surprises.

"Red, you awake?" He called out, not too loudly, afraid he'd wake her if she was asleep. At six in the morning, he wasn't really surprised when absolute silence answered him. Even George didn't stir where he slept in his place on the back of the sofa. Slipping off his boots, he set them to the side and went traipsing through the place until he found her sprawled diagonally across the bed with her head buried under a body pillow. Smiling to himself, he quietly walked over, "happy late Valentine's Day," he whispered, taking a seat on the edge.

"Mmmfh," she grunted. Was she dreaming or was Hunter talking to her? Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton as she opened one bloodshot eye, peering out through the tangle of her hair— someone with broad shoulders was sitting on her bed. It was probably him. "Go 'way," she muttered, pulling the pillow back over her head.

"Now why would I go away, when I just got here? C'mon, Red, be reasonable." He gently put a hand on her back.

"You're late," her words were muffled by the pillow, "you didn't call."

Hunter's head snapped up and he stiffened. "Hey, hold up—"

"Didn't... even text... what kinda surprise is this to make me suffer for like a gazillion hours and then you just show up?"

He grew up with a house full of sisters and he knew what that tone meant. Instead of defending himself or whipping out his phone to show how many times he'd called and the unanswered messages he'd sent, he sighed. "Red... the flight was cancelled because they couldn't de-ice the plane. I tried calling but I couldn't get through. Your phone just kept kicking me to voicemail and now your box is full." He kept his hand on her back, gently rubbing. "They told me the next flight wouldn't be 'til tonight but I didn't wanna wait that long. I got in the car and drove."

Her head popped out from under the pillow as she pushed her hair out of her face. "You... drove? What? That's gotta be like ten hours or something."

He shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing. "About twelve and a half," he muttered, "but who's counting? It's no big deal. I had a good audiobook and lotsa coffee so it was all good."

"I was so mad... sad... I dunno. A lot of stuff got mixed up and maybe it's a good thing nothing was coming through because I didn't..." she trailed off, realizing that she couldn't tell him just how bad off she was the night before. "I'd have probably ripped you a new one like some crazy bitch and I really don't want to be a crazy bitch anymore—"

"You had a rough night and me not being there made shit worse." Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head, smoothing out her wild hair. "I'm sorry I didn't get through to you— guess your phone's got it in for you."

He was probably right. Lex hadn't texted her back either, and he was usually pretty prompt with that. "I'm sorry I assumed the worst... I'm just like... the shittiest girlfriend on the planet." She rolled over, letting out a groan. "Oh God, my head hurts so bad!"

He frowned, noticing the empty Jack Daniels bottle next to her laptop on the other side of the bed. "Aw, hell, Kase... what did you do?" Smoothing back the hair from her forehead, he sighed. "Are you needing a hangover cure?"

"Think I'm probably still drunk," she sighed, flinging her arm over her eyes. "So... I dunno. God, I'm so fucking stupid." She sounded like she was going to cry. "I don't even know what you see in me..."

"Hey now," he said, leaning in and kissing her on the lips. "You aren't stupid and you didn't know." He didn't tell her how many times he'd checked his phone on the drive. "Honestly, I woulda been freaking out, too. I kinda was, if you want the truth. I mean, twelve hours and I never heard anything back from you. I kinda just assumed you were mad at first. Then I thought maybe you were at the airport waiting for my flight and you got stuck there. I dunno—"

"I just... I thought maybe..." she couldn't even bring herself to finish the sentence.

As if he could read her mind, he shook his head. "No, okay? I'm not that dingus Kyle you dated. I'm not gonna walk out on you because you caught me in a lie—"

"Don't." She wished she hadn't told him about that. "Don't bring him up, okay?"

"Fine. Then don't compare me to that stupid kid, okay? There is NOTHING that could make me leave you, Red. You and me? We're great. We're better than great, okay? We're fucking awesome."

"You sure?" She lowered her arm, her bloodshot eyes shining with tears. "I yell at you all the time over nothing. I'm a freakin' basket case!"

"Ya gotta take the good days with the bad ones. Throw your tantrums and whatever else you need to 'cause the truth is, I'll be here to pick you up when it's over." Leaning in, he kissed her again on the lips. "It doesn't matter if you're a basket case or not; I still love you, no matter what."

"That's legitimately the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me and... Hunter... I..." she paused, her eyes wide and full of emotion, "oh God. I'm gonna barf." She bolted from the bed and ran into the bathroom.

He immediately got up and followed her into the bathroom. While she was vomiting, he got a washcloth and got it wet. Getting next to her and kneeling down, he held her hair back and put the washcloth on the back of her neck. "Just get it all out, Red."

She let out a shuddering sob and bowed her head. "Well that... was... a thing." She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching out to flush away the evidence of her idiotic binge. "Maybe I don't deserve a nice day," she said softly, "maybe I'm just..."

He kissed the top of her head and held on closely to her. "If anybody deserves it, it's you. Seriously, Red. You've had a lot going on. And yeah, you do deserve a nice day. "

"Is it ever gonna stop?" Her voice came out small and defeated.

"Is what?" Before she could answer, he realized what she meant. "Yeah." He kissed her cheek this time. "Always darkest before the dawn. Things get shitty, but they get better. Isn't that the saying out there? It gets better? Well it does. Shit, I can tell you that for certain because I'm walking proof of that. We both are."

"I don't—"

"Yeah, you do. Are you alone? Are you still working those dives where you get treated like garbage? No. You've got two steady gigs and people are clamoring for your attention 24/7. You've got opportunities knocking everywhere and—"

"I wasn't talking about wrestling," she said in that small, timid voice. "I meant you and me."

"Pfft," he rolled his eyes at the suggestion, "get outta here, Red. You know I'm gonna be here every step of the way."

She pulled away from him, getting up shakily and going to the sink. She rinsed out her mouth and the brushed her teeth in silence before turning toward him with a watery smile. "Okay," she said softly, "can we like have a mulligan on this and pretend I wasn't a total train wreck when you got here?"

He furrowed his brow and looked confused as he stood up. "Forget about what?"

"Thank you," she whispered, flinging herself into his arms.

He held her close and kissed her cheek one more time. "How about if we get you back to bed? I know I could use a good nap."

She nodded, "okay. But not too long... I need to stay on track. I have another big match coming up and—"

He shook his head, and kept his hold on her firmly. "Nope. Today is a you day. Forget about FFW and that big battle royal you have after that. Just take the day off and relax. You need this and you know I'm right."

She was about to argue, to tell him that beating Sam Tolson was going to be a springboard back to that elusive greatness she wanted so bad. Beating her meant that she could also win that Queen of the Deathmatch tournament and prove that she was strong and resilient too. Then after that, the world would be her oyster and she could get another crack at the Evolution Title— she saw herself reflected in his eyes and everything else fell away. God, they were so green, so beautiful and the way he looked at her made her feel invincible. As cliched as it was, she realized she'd never felt like this with Kyle or Bryan or even Richard Specter. They were all great in their own way, but none of them had ever really looked at her like this.

"Red?" There was a hint of a furrow between his brows as he stared back at her. "You okay?"

She wanted to tell him that she felt like maybe she would be but the words died on her lips when her blue eyes met his green ones. "You're right," she finally replied, nodding, "I need a day off. Boyyyyyyyy do I ever."

"Thank you," he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "So shower, bed... and later, food. Yes?"

She shook her head at the mention of food, feeling her stomach roll. "Maybe not the last one. We'll see."

He smiled gently and nodded. "Shower and bed— the rest we can worry about later. Tomorrow, maybe. I told Luke I'm taking the week off so I'm here until you get sick of me."

She nodded and took his hand, tugging him towards the shower at the other end of the bathroom. "Then you gotta join me, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Thought that was a given, Red."