A/N: This isn't a funny one, sorry. I'm taking out my aggression with this story. Why am I so aggravated? It's because everyone and their mother and their gangster neighbors have been bothering me to update "Crack Open My Heart." I did, and…


Asshats. Now I don't even want to write anymore at all. Well, I thank three of you, at least.

For the Edge fans who truly understand.

"Come on, Adam. Open your eyes. Life is beautiful. Can't you see it? Come on, Adam..." Amy silently cried, kneeling at Adam's casket. She was the first to arrive at the funeral.

Amy heard people entering the church from behind her. She quickly stood up and dusted herself off, straightening up her clothes. No one would see her like this if she could help it.

And she could almost guarantee that was the most emotion that anyone would show that day.

"This is disturbing," Maria muttered as she clung onto the arm of John Cena.

"What, you've never been to a funeral before?" John asked, adjusting his black tie.

"I'm not twelve. Of course I've been to a funeral before. It's just that the people that are dead are people that I've loved. I can't believe I'm here and I can't believe I'm here because of him," Maria said, disgusted with herself and the person lying in the open casket.

"Get over it, Maria. He was good to all of us."

"That's what you think," Maria spat as she rolled her eyes. "Let's sit as far in the back as possible, please."

The funeral went on. Few people other than family members went up to the casket to pay their last respects. During the service, the priest asked if anyone would like to say anything in front of the group about Adam Copeland.

No one stood up and offered to speak on behalf of Edge.

After the funeral, people stood in segregated groups. Adam's family stood off to one side, and his coworkers stood on the other side of the church.

"Remind me why we showed up here?" Kelly Kelly asked.

"If I died, would you come to my funeral?" Chris Jericho asked back.

"Well, of course. I work with you," Kelly Kelly answered.

"Then there you have it."

"Come on, he was nice," Mickie noted.

"Oh, don't even pretend like that, Mickie," a voice from behind the group stated.

They all turned around to find the one and only Amy Dumas leaning against the wall behind them.

"What are you talking about?" Kelly Kelly asked.

"Psh, like you don't know," Amy snapped. "You all are here to make a good name for yourself; to make yourself look good in the public eye. But did any of you truly like him? Were you really his friends? No, you weren't. So why don't you do his real family a favor and get the fuck out of here," Amy demanded, sickened by the mere sight of her former coworkers and friends.

"Amy, we—"

"And on the tribute show, you'll all cry your fake tears and talk about how much you missed him and how much you loved him. And then your pathetic little fans that have spent all six years of their lives booing him and wishing he would die are going to pretend that they have been his biggest fans all along. They'll write stories and make fan videos, but you know what? They won't mean a thing because they didn't come from the heart. And quite frankly, I don't think that any of you, or them for that matter, even has a heart."

The group of wrestlers stared at Amy, nearly cowering under her glare and under the force of her words.

Sweet, gentle Amy…None of them ever expected her to snap like that.

Amy took a deep breath and sighed. "All I'm saying is that if you want to see hate like you showed him, I'll show you hate."