A/N: Love stories? Not anytime soon. But I love SWAGGA and no one writes about this handsome, buck-toothed blond. He's not even in the list of Superstars! He's the goddamn ECW Champ. This site blows.

Jack Swagger didn't know where he was, who he was with, or what he was drinking, but the women under his arms were hot, and the glass in his hand was empty. He was at some party – the show had ended earlier, and now it was time to get down with some babes. He would wake up tomorrow with the worst headache and the driest mouth, but it was his day off, so what better way to spend it than in bed or on the bathroom floor?

"Excuse me, ladies." He had a cigarette in each hand, burning away to nothing, but it was getting so hot in that room, he didn't want to pull the girls closer to him in order to smoke them. "I have to step outside for just a minute. Don't go anywhere."

The girls giggled and spun away from him, and he stumbled through the crowded club to get to the street. He ran into some of his co-workers, but they were just as busy as he was, so all he got was a nod of acknowledgment.

When he went out the front door, he bumped into a blond with pretty eyes and fake lips, and he turned around to walk backwards just so he could watch her. She laughed and flipped her ponytail over her shoulder as she went inside.

Swagger couldn't help but smile. He had it made. He was the ECW Champion, women threw themselves at him, and he could get away with anything.

He checked his Blackberry and lit another cigarette, smoking it leisurely as he scrolled his messages and checked the time. It was well after two, but the streets were still bustling with people. He could hear a couple passing by whispering about him – "Is that Jack Swagger?"

He looked up and pursed his lips at the girl, nodding his head. She giggled and turned into her boyfriend's arm. She kept giving him sly glances as they walked away.

"Swagger."

Jack looked behind him and raised his eyebrows at Morrison, who was standing in the entrance, holding open the door.

"We're all going to a bar across town. You coming?"

Jack glanced down at his phone, fiddling with it slightly. It was getting pretty late. And he had to get back to the hotel before he forgot where it was.

"You don't have to," John said lamely. "We just figured you hit on every chick here, so we should probably go somewhere else."

It wasn't three yet, though. Jack considered the night to be half over when it hit three. He still had an hour left.

He looked up with a smile. "Why not?"


The hotel was incredibly quiet. Jack couldn't figure out why the lights in the hallway had to be so damn bright. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stumbled down the ugly carpeted floor, bracing himself against the wall as he searched for his room key. It took him three times before he got the card in the slot, and he bumped his head on the door when he forgot to hold it up.

He came into the dark room laughing, but he quieted down when he saw the empty plate on the coffee table. The TV was blue, and the door leading to the bedroom was open a crack.

He pushed it with his foot, fumbling in the dark. It was almost five-thirty, the sun practically peeking over the horizon. He told himself he was going to get home by three, but three turned into four, and women turned into more women, drinks into more drinks, and before he knew it, some girl was ripping his shirt half open as he grinded her on the dance floor.

He knew it was time to go home when the room didn't stop spinning even after he sat down.

He grunted and fell down face first on the bed, landing against the soft, plush comforter. Just the relief of getting off his feet practically had him slipping into a coma, but the cold hand that touched his sweaty shirt got his eyes to open.

"Are you just getting home?" she whispered.

Jack rolled onto his back and looked at her, the way her dark hair curled against the pillow. She was half asleep, but her eyes were trained affectionately on his face.

"Nah, I fell asleep on the couch."

"Oh." She rubbed her hand against his chest. "You're sweating. Are you sick?"

"No." He tried to sit up, but his drinking got the best of him. "I just want to get some sleep. It was a long night."

"Okay." She pulled at his side slightly, and he moved his arm so she could snuggle up against him. "I missed you."

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"I tried calling you earlier. Were you out with the guys?"

"Yeah."

She yawned. "Did you have fun?"

Jack turned his head away when he smiled. "Yeah."

"I'm glad." She kissed his damp neck, sighing contently. "Good night."

"Night."

"I love you."

Jack rolled over, trying to sit up. "I need a cigarette."

She lifted her head. "Jack?"

He was already out on the balcony, trying to rip open the pack he had stuffed in his back pocket. His hands were shaking so bad, but even after he struck the lighter and lit the tip, he couldn't stop his fingers from trembling. He let out a shaky breath as he leaned against the railing.

He heard the sliding glass door open behind him, but he didn't turn around.

"Jack, are you okay?"

He shook his head, just slightly, but he dragged on the cigarette instead and said nothing.

"You've been weird lately."

"Have I?"

"Yeah." Her hands went around his middle, the ring on her finger glimmering in the moonlight. "Is the wedding freaking you out?"

"Uh... " Jack looked down. There was a bonfire on the beach a few hundred feet away. He could hear the serene laughter of beautifully drunk women, dancing in just their bathing suits. "I guess."

"Well, don't worry." She kissed between his shoulder blades. "I'm a little nervous, too. It's normal. You're not doing anything wrong."

A couple of girls were walking to the suite below them, Coronas in their hands, and they looked up with playful glints in their eyes. He smiled at them, and they started laughing hysterically, running back down to the sand.

"You think?"

Jack looked over his shoulder. "Huh?"

"Do you think?"

"Do I think what?"

"You'll take off a couple of months for our honeymoon?"

"Oh." Jack inhaled harshly, blowing smoke out of his nose as he dragged again. "Uh... Yeah. Maybe."

"It'd be nice." Her hands hooked up onto his shoulders, so she could pull herself up to kiss the back of his neck. "I miss you so much these days."

"Rach, you come with me on the road – "

"No, I miss you. You don't even seem like you're with me anymore."

He flicked his cigarette off the edge and turned around in her arms, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"You're so tired and rundown all the time. Remember when I used to be able to tell what you were feeling by looking into your eyes?"

He nodded.

"I can't do that anymore." She turned his face with her delicate hand, frowning. "Your jaw's bruised. Who punched you tonight?"

"Christian."

She kissed his mouth, smoothing his stringy hair back. "I hope you come back to me. I miss being with you."

She turned to leave, and Jack watched her quietly as she opened the glass door. He snagged her arm before she could go inside.

"Rach." He licked his lips, looking away. He met her gaze again, frowning at the gleam of hope. "Go back to bed. I'll be there in a minute."

She nodded sadly. "Okay."

Jack pulled her against him and pressed his face into her neck, smelling the sweet body wash she always used. "I'm here," he whispered.

Her hand stroked the back of his head, pulling him back slightly. Her eyes were watery, and she nodded, then went inside.

Jack sighed and fell against the balcony again, casually glancing down. Those girls were back, and they were watching him. He quirked a brow, feeling the slightest smirk tug at his lips.

"Hey, handsome," the blonde called up, her voice harsh, not smooth like Rachel's. "Wanna come party with us?"

Jack looked at the steps that led from the balcony to the beach, then at the glass door in front of him. He couldn't see inside. He only saw himself, leaning against the railing, tired and ragged looking.

He nodded, grinning down at the girls. "Be right there, ladies."

They smiled and headed down to the beach.

Jack took one last look at the door, making sure he couldn't see Rachel. He knew he should've gone back inside, gotten down beside her, held her while she slept. He knew he should wake up tomorrow without a hang over and go pick out wedding invitations, or a color for the kitchen in their new house. He knew he should figure out how many kids he wanted or if he wanted a cat or a dog.

But he'd been used to only seeing himself for so long, he went down to the beach.

Jack Swagger settled for no one.

A/N: Bitter? Yes. Review.