I take a deep breath, running my hands over the title around my waist. My music hits, and I walk out in front of the crowd. They seem surprised to see me. I head down to the announcers' table, under the pretext of giving commentary. As far as anyone knows, I'm out here to get a look at who I'll be defending my title against.
I sit down and strap on the headphones, saying a few words as the combatants enter the ring. I can't believe I'm here; I can't believe I'm doing this. I have to clench my hands tightly in my lap to stop myself from bighting my nails. That's what I do when I get nervous; I bite my nails. I know it's bad habit, but I just can't seem to stop.
I watch the action nervously, sweating as each gets shots in on the other. Truth be told, I'm not out here to scope out my competition; no, this match means far more to me than that. This match determines who I go home with tonight; my ex-lover, or my new lover. I can't believe I agreed to this. I must be insane. Gambling myself on one match?
Then again, it's not really a gamble. I know who's going to win. I try to tell myself that it will only be one night, that after that I'll be free to do as I wish. But will I really? He and I have been constantly off and on; together one minute, broken up again the next. I finally found the strength to move on, to find someone else, and now he wants back in. If my lover doesn't beat him, he'll probably never let go of me. But, my lover isn't going to beat him.
I can feel myself sweating harder as I watch. Dammit, Kurt, get ahold of yourself! I don't want everyone seeing how nervous I am. Oh god, it's getting near the end of the match. Now...now is when I have to act. I throw off the headset, sliding into the ring with a chair. Show looks shocked as I leap at him, striking him with the chair. I back off and let Rock pin him; one, two, three.
I have to grab the side of my pants to keep my hands still. God I want to bite my nails! It's compulsory, I can't help it. But I can't on national tv. Show is heading for me; damn, he looks furious! I try to tell him I'm sorry, but he won't listen. He picks me up by the throat, chokeslamming me into the mat. I feel like I want to cry as he stalks off, leaving in lying on my back in the ring. Hell, I would cry if I weren't in front of this huge audience.
I manage to pick myself up, stumbling to the back. I know Rock is following me, and I try to get to my dressing room as quickly as possible. I'm not fast enough. Practically s soon as I get in the door, Rock walks in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "That wasn't so bad, now was it baby?" he coos, leaning in to gently nip at my ear.
I push him away, angry tears in my eyes. "I can't believe you made me do that!" I scream. "Why can't you just let it be over?"
Rock grins. "With all those lovely pictures, and that video, to remind me of how damn sweet you taste, you expect me to let you get away?"
"I told you I don't want you anymore," I hiss.
Rock rolls his eyes. "That's what you say every time we break up. Beside, you knew the deal. Since your little boy toy lost, I get you tonight. All of you." I swallow at the desire I see gleaming in his eyes.
"But it wasn't a fair fight," I object in a weak whisper. I know I've lost, but I can't give in yet. "You blackmailed me, dammit!"
Rock just laughs. "Kurt, you know you want it anyway. You would've come back to me sooner or later, and you know it."
I bite my tongue. Maybe it's true. So what if it is? That doesn't mean he had the right to use our past indiscretions against me. I didn't have any choice once he brought up those photographs. The world can never, will never see the Olympic Hero doing...well, what I was in those pictures. I can't believe I was stupid enough to let him take them! And the video...I should've known he'd pull something like that. I don't know what night specifically it was, but, as he would say, it doesn't matter. The film he got of us says it all.
Sighing, I give up the fight. "Fine, let's go," I grumble, heading for the door. Might as well just get this over with.
"Kurt." I turn back to him, seeing him standing with his arms crossed. "Don't be such a sore loser," he whispers, trailing his fingers gently down my cheek. "I love you, you know. No matter how many times we brake up, or who else you hook up with, I love you. Let me take you out to dinner, then we'll head back to the hotel, alright?"
A smile crosses my face. He can certainly be sweet when he wants to. Maybe that's why I keep going back to him. Maybe...deep down...I love him? Well, I don't know about that. But we do always seem to find our way back to each other. It's true, it's true.
THE END