This is the oneshot born from listening to Ingrid Michaelson's Masochist, Rev Theory's Favorite Disease and Mayday Parade's The Last Something That Meant Anything. This is also the oneshot i dedicate to Thee Britty. I hope you like it. If not, please just say so and I will write you another one.

I must warn you. This is a twisted story. In my analysis, I found that this is just a complicated version of the line: "LET GO and MOVE ON."

"I'd let you know how my world goes, B." he said, his eyes shifting from finger-licking sweet to blunt ice cold. "But you don't deserve to know that shit."

"You could stab me with a jagged knife fifteen times and that would fucking hurt less." She said back. "I don't deserve to know that shit because you're just too way up in cloud nine for me to be worth your time. Just rot in hell, Lee. I bet you could kill a lot of time there, if not kill anyone else."

Brittany shook her head and quickened her pace to catering. The scowl on her face made the people she passed by know that this wasn't the best time to be messing with her. On any other day, she would have offered coworkers the charming Britt-smile she was renowned for. This day wasn't one of those days.

"Hell is my brainchild, bitch. You know nothing about what hell is." He remarked and smirked, his voice dripping with every ounce of malice and harsh intent.

She stepped into the cool air-conditioned food court and walked straight to the water bottles. In one swift move, she grabbed a bottle and twisted the cap open before pouring the contents onto her head. It was lukewarm, just like how everyone in this business wanted their water.

I can't stand what this has turned into.
You are my favorite disease.

"It's eight degrees outside and you're dying of a heat stroke." a low rumble echoed from behind her. "Hon, I know you're crazy, but this is just sick."

Britt let out a soft chuckle and spun around to meet Cody Rhodes carrying his own water bottle. She replied, "Your sarcasm is helping, Rhodes. Not like you'd ever realize how perfectly fucked up I've been. Your drip-dry mouth is going to get you killed one of these da—"

He drained his water bottle onto her head before she could continue with her rant. He got her to chuckle a little bit at the familiarity of the water's temperature before saying, "Chill for a few and tell the best friend what's up your boots."

"I'd love to kill you first for helping me dry up."

"Maybe you've forgotten, babe, that I could easily walk away and kill your career." She retorted.

"Try walking away. You'll lose a life." He replied, knowing exactly what got her peeved. "It'll be game over."

She stood there on the dirt path and let her mind sink in what her eyes had just read. Cody "Cody Rhodes" Garrett Runnels: beloved son, nephew and friend. The rules of the game were echoing in her head like a video game gone wild. She had started playing the death card and there was a seventy-five percent chance left that she was going to get out of her alive.

"Rhodes was a great guy." Ted DiBiase said from where he stood behind Brittany.

She took a deep breath and told him, "Greatness couldn't save him, Ted. Neither could a Legacy."

­­­"Ever thought that waking up without the sound of birds chirping could be as annoying as it is when they did chirp?" a perfectly random Randy Orton spoke as he sat on the leather sofa beside a GTA-playing Britt.

"Do you know exactly what you're saying or are you using up the first words that come into your mind?" she said as she grabbed an M14 and started jamming on the controller to fire it at the policemen chasing her.

"Okay, you caught me." He said and chuckled. "Half the things I say really don't make sense, Miss Legacy."

Brittany winced at the name. She didn't hate being the only girl in the stable. She just hated it when they called her that. Even Lillian Garcia thought that it was the cheapest shot the Creative Team could ever give a diva, more importantly, the legacy who could take any poser down with her title belt.

"Please stop calling me that." She said and jammed the buttons on the controller some more. "It's the lamest pseudonym the so-called scriptwriters ever came up with."

"They control our lives on that stage. Even Cena went into a fit when they told him he had to fake his death." He said and laughed. "He kept on telling them that no one would buy that shit. Good thing they listened."

She averted her eyes from the television screen for a moment and plucked a stray hair from Randy's shirt, "Thank God. Even the Vince McMahon death in the limousine didn't sell. People have fucking brains you know."

Randy grabbed a controller and muttered a thanks for getting the strand of hair off him. He started jamming buttons the same way she was and continued the conversation, "You miss Rhodes, don't you?"

"Who doesn't, Orton." She replied, trying to keep the conversation away from her. "So, what's on the script today? Wait, don't tell me. We're going out to mourn for Cody's passing."

"You got that right." He said as he virtually grabbed a crowbar and smashed some car windows. "They've got you and I starting this romance storyline tonight, too. They're going to make it seem like you slept with me behind Rhodes' back and that ends your love angle with him."

"Lord knows I wouldn't trade my best friend for you." She said and heard him laugh along with her.

Today was strike two. This time, Randy stood behind Brittany as they witnessed Ted's coffin being lowered down to the dirt. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as her guilt washed over her senses, but refused to make its presence known on her eyes. Every shovel of dirt that was thrown down into the grave felt like another tatter waiting to happen on her dignity.

She walked away, not being able to stand another waking moment witnessing her wrongdoing, and heard Randy pacing closely behind her. "It's either you or me now, Randy." She said and spun around to face his confused look. "But I've got a huge feeling it's going to be you."

"So, what do you say we do? Stand here and wait for another death blow to strike?" he asked, shaking his head after he had spoken. "This is going too far, Brittany. You know we have to do something besides predicting who's going to be buried next."

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around him, "If they take me first, I'll haunt you to say I love you."

"Walking away was the best thing I could have done." Brittany said as she sat on Randy's lap and let him stroke her extraordinarily streaked brunette locks. He had loved the blonde and red in them, but never failed to let her know that she looked better natural.

"You walked away and you got Rhodes and DiBiase sent six feet under. Are you sure that was the smartest choice you could have made?" he asked, unaware that his question was spearing daggers at her heart.

"I don't make smart choices, Randy. I make the right ones." She said in full confidence. "I could've stayed there and witnessed my own death wish or walked away and be where I am right now."

"I'd love to play this guessing game more often, but it's killing me. If you don't tell me what happened, is happening and is going to happen, I'll go crazy enough to fuck another dude." He said and saw her green eyes realize that he was completely serious in his threat.

"Lee loved to talk smack. Worst part: he knew how to back it up full-blown." She started. "When he got involved in this mafia-gang war gig, I couldn't stand to even look at him. But I became heavily attracted and attached to him. Power became my weakness.

It was a black hole. You get sucked in, you suck forever. He killed every bit of me but I fell in love with him even more. I was a sick bitch and 'til today I still find myself missing how he'd bitch at me. I tried to tell him I was sick of it but he knew how to push all of my buttons. I walked away, but he threatened to make my life a living hell.

You could kill me now and it won't hurt. He could pop up in this room and ask for me back and I'd still follow him like a puppy." She admitted and took in the look of disgust on Randy's face. "He won't stop until he's got me back in his latches. It's his twisted way of admitting that he still loves me."

He says 'you're a masochist for falling for me, so roll up your sleeves.'
When will it stop? When will I feel all soft inside?

"What now?" he asked. "Am I supposed to forget the fact that I've let you know that I love you for the past three years just because some fucked up war-freak wants to tie the knot with you?"

"No." she replied. "Just let me say my piece. If he backs off, he backs off for good. If he draws his gun, don't try to save me."

"We meet again." Lee said as he smirked at the power couple in front of him. "B, you knew I would kill off everyone who tried to get within an inch of your heart. Are you sure you want to risk your beloved Randy Orton's?"

"Lee…" a struggling-to-stay-sober Brittany said. "Before you lay a hand on Orton, there's something you have to know."

He walked over to her precariously. Randy's unconscious body remained on the floor behind her. She clutched her abdomen as the pain from the jagged knife seared through her numbing body. Lee was right in front of her and she couldn't resist looking into his painful gray-contact-covered irises. He knelt down to her level as she got a bloody hand up to his cheek.

"I know everything, bitch." He said as he let her smear some of her own blood on his face. "What more do I need to know?"

Her eyes hardened. Without another word, she pulled the knife out of her midsection and jammed it straight into his. She watched his eyes drain of life right in front of her. He muttered colorful words as he tried to reexamine his brain for where he went wrong in his devious plan. He found his answer when she strongly said, "I'm over you."

Once he had dropped to the floor and struggled to keep his vitals in check, she scooted away from him as fast as she could. She crawled over to where Randy lay and ran a loving hand through his hair. He followed what she had said. He didn't try to save her, but he was armed and ready to fight for her.

"You're the most random person I know." She said as she struggled to breathe. "I love you because you have authority but you know when to follow. I love you because you made me love instead of obsess. I love you because you were never scared even if everyone else was dying. I love you because you loved me."

For the first time in a very long time, she shed a tear. She wasn't crying because she was in pain. She wasn't crying because she had lost Rhodes and DiBiase. She wasn't crying because she was being called Miss Legacy.

She was crying because she knew who she loved and what she lived for. She was free. She had a wrestling career to go back to and a family she could raise with this man beside her. Even though her name will forever be on a blacklist, she knew how it was to take control of her life.

Randy fluttered his eyes open and saw a blood-stained Brittany standing in front of him and shedding tears. He pulled her close and hugged her tight. It was difficult loving a different kind of girl; the type you thought was innocent but turns out to be wilder than you are. With gunshots echoing in the background, they both knew the war would live on. He kissed her passionately and said to himself…

It's going to be hard getting through this, but I'll fight with her.

And I'll borrow words from all my favorite paragraphs to write about all of these faded things
we hope would mean the most to me and each line is sent.
I have found new pages of hope for the days when I felt like I've lost everything.

I'll be okay. Is that what you want me to say?

Please do review. This is just a oneshot. Hopefully, you guys liked it. If you did, didn't, or even just passed by since it's a new story, kindly review. It hurts an author to write and not get reviews. Thanks.

I do not own any WWE Superstar in this fic and neither are they six feet under.