Disclaimer: We don't own the WWE.
Authors: Shelliosity, Madame Morrison and Cara Mascara
A/N: An update, in honor of Punk's exciting title win last night! Yay bybee!!
Secrets Don't Make Friends
Chapter 3: Sleeping Out
Another line was gone from the coffee table. Damn, this shit is good and strong. Around me were a bunch of my buddies and some of their friends too. We were all trading some shit. Some drugs for other drugs, and some drugs for cash. Me, I got some pretty good deals with the money that Zandra coughed over to me. Acid, E, crack and some weed. I even got myself some smokes.
I handed over some stuff too, making a few bucks while I was at it. I was on a roll and life was pretty easy with Zan bringing in the goods. I loved it.
I did another line. And then after it was gone, I rubbed my nose a little, sniffing once more to get it all in.
"Hey man, try some of this," said my friend, Tristen. He's the one that usually hooked me up with the good stuff.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Some pills" was all he said. "They do some pretty wicked shit to ya."
I didn't think twice about it and stated crushing the pills.
Coming back home, I was a little exhausted from work. I just was hoping to go home, go to bed and not have Jude mooch me for MORE money and bug the ever-living crap outta me. I just wanted to relax.
As the bus dropped me off, I stepped off, throwing my bag over my shoulder. I continued to walk forward, but as I looked over at my door, I saw a bunch of people just waltzing in! Okay, what the fuck is going on?
I hurried up and tried to rush over to see what was going on. Why were people just coming into the apartment? I didn't speak to any of the strangers coming in. I just knew that Jude had something to do with it.
I flew up the stairs and opened the door, and I saw Jude and his addict 'friends' getting jacked on freakin' drugs!
I sighed, just utterly fuming and pissed off. "Get out, now."
They obeyed and scattered on out the door. I couldn't believe he was actually pulling this shit!
I threw my hands up at him. "What the heck, Jude?"
"The fuck'd you do that for?" he questioned me.
"You can't be doing this!" I yelled. "You keep bringing these people in, we're gonna have cops coming in here! Fuck! I support you, I care for you, and you're gonna have both of us locked up!"
But standing up for myself, wasn't such a good idea because right then, a large hand connected with my face.
It stung with and shocked tears welled in my eyes. I held my face and gaped at Jude. "You ... hit me."
"Now you'll know not to mess with me." He said so calmly it was a little frightening. But it was gone when he started to yell, which may have been even more terrifying. "You listen to me, you got it, little whore? I am the man in this house. I control you and your ass. Don't you ever fucking holler at me again! Or you'll be fucked, I promise you that!"
Tears just began to roll down my face. I ran to my room, I just couldn't even face him right now.
I didn't want to stay in this crappy apartment any longer, so I decided I wasn't going to. Sitting in my room and crying like I'm five years old wasn't going to help me either. With my mind made up, I forced myself off of my bed and out the door. Jude raced over to the doorway to call after me.
"Where the fuck are you going?" he yelled.
"None of your business!" I replied without turning back to look at him.
This time I wasn't going to stay and accept his abuse.
"Get the hell back here!"
"Go overdose on one of your drugs!"
I walked a few blocks to Evangeline and Monica's apartment building. I'm tired, I'm aggravated and I have nowhere else to go but here. I knocked on the door instead of ringing the doorbell, knowing that Eva had probably already put down Evie for bed. After waiting a few minutes Monica came to the door and the tears that had stopped began to pour themselves out again.
Monica didn't question me. She just pulled me inside, walking me into the tiny living room. It wasn't too difficult to figure out that Jude was a complete jackass. Even an idiot would notice that. I sat down on the loveseat as Monica pulled a tissue from the tissue box and handed it over to me.
"You seriously need to get rid of Jude," she finally spoke. Monica wasn't saying it to be mean, in all honesty she's right. I do. I really need to get Jude Bradford out of my life before I'm sucked in so deep that I can't get out.
"And go where?" I asked between sobs. "This apartment is way too small to hold another person and I've got a few things I'd like to take with me."
"I understand that, but living with him isn't going to make your life any easier then it is. He's wasting your time and he's spending your money like you have an ATM slot up your ass and a never ending cash flow!" Monica answered. "Seriously if you don't break away from him, you'll end up in the streets either way you think about it."
"I'm going to be homeless." I replied.
"There are other apartments you can afford by yourself. Eva and I will start looking in the papers for you," Monica pointed out. "You can't keep moping around like this though."
Within the few minutes I had been there and had the small conversation with Monica, Eva emerged from Evie's bedroom after finally getting her to go to sleep. "I'm going to knock that guy out one of these days," she growled as she looked over at me. "He needs a reality check, badly."
"He could at least get a job," Monica replies.
It's no big secret to me that my two friends think that Jude is a waste of life and air. They're usually the first ones to tell me that, but they're the only ones I can turn to when I need help, no one else seems to give a crap about me.
"Hey, your phone's ringing Zan." Monica and I groaned, expecting it to be a not so happy Jude. I grabbed it off the end table and checked the unfamiliar number coming up on the ID. "Who is it?"
"I don't know." I opened the small, black phone and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hey, um, this is Phil... from the-" My jaw dropped a little as he began talking and I made a muscle at Monica, trying to tell her who it was.
"Ooh, it's the wrestler that beat her at pool," Monica informed Eva and I nodded, confirming.
"I remember. I've been waiting for a call. What's up?" It really had crossed my mind that he'd taken my number. I figured he wouldn't call though after it took so long. I don't know what I'm doing. I must be crazy to be having some wrestler call me when I have a boyfriend, especially one like Jude. I mean... it won't end well.
"Put it on speaker," Eva whispered. I held down the button and put the speaker on, listening to Phil and making myself comfortable.
"Nothing, nothing. I just got back from Canada."
I laughed and Eva raised her eyebrows. "What the hell were you doing in Canada?" Monica made a gesture that represented smoking a joint but I shook my head, remembering the tattoos across his knuckles.
"I work for the WWE. I'm a wrestler and we were touring Canada." Eva licked her lips and Monica waggled her eyebrows.
"He's hot. And muscled," Monica informed Eva, who laughed. I put my finger to my lips, trying to get them to quiet down.
"Ooh, yeah. That must be fun, hmm?"
"Yeah, I can't imagine doing anything else with my life." He has passion, a job and obviously morals if his tattoo speaks the truth. I like that. Meeting a great guy is terrible when you have a not so great seeming boyfriend.
"That's awesome that you're so passionate about it."
"Yeah. So, what do you do?" I froze, not sure if a guy this great was going to be cool with me being a stripper. I'm very interested in getting to know him. I don't want to fuck this up. I looked at the girls questionably and they both shook their heads, which I took as a sign not to tell him the whole truth.
"Oh, me? I'ma... waitress. I waitress at a Country Club." Monica made a face and Eva frowned. Shit, maybe they were telling me not to lie.
"Yeah? Must be pretty snazzy." Yeah. It's a nice club. Minus the dirtbags who frequent it.
"Yeah, you could say that. Good tips. Lots of big spenders." Monica stated laughing and muffled it with a pillow. I bit my lip nervously. Shit, maybe I shouldn't have lied.
"Nice, so uh, how old are you?" All right, he asked for it. I'm not going to lie this time.
"You want the 4-1-1? I'm surprised you didn't get it at the bar. Name; Zandra Halliwell, yes, by birth. Age; twenty-one. I've lived in Chicago my whole life. I ran away from home when I was seventeen. Art school reject. My boobs, hair and lips are fake. Don't want to take you by surprise or anything." Eva and Monica both started laughing at my mini-bio and I couldn't help but giggle at them and myself. "So, your turn."
"Heh, okay. Phil Books, twenty nine, born and raised in Chicago, been wrestling for more than ten years and I don't drink, smoke or do dugs." That last part killed me. That's the complete and utter opposite of Jude. The guy who just slapped me across the face when he's supposed to love me. I felt... warm at that information. Eva definitely sensed this and smiled softly.
"Really? Me neither... never have."
"I was calling to see if you wanted to get together some time in the next few days. I go back on the road on the eleventh, but I'll be around till then." I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. I'm not sleeping at home tonight, but I do have a boyfriend. I should say no. Eva and Monica didn't help me out on this one. They just waited.
"Yeah. Yeah, let me check my work schedule." I checked my date book in my purse and saw I wasn't working tomorrow night. "I'm free tomorrow night. Say, eightish?"
"Perfect." I might be insane to go behind Jude's back like this, but I really want to see if this could go anywhere. This guy could be my ticket out.