So, here I am. Many, many, MANY months overdue. And I have a dilemma. Due to my trying to actually write something and finish it before posting, I have a million unfinished projects because my mind always strays. I've decided I'm better off posting something so I feel guilty if I don't actually finish it.
And because I couldn't decide which story to publish, I've chosen two. I'm sorry if you notice any similarities (I'll try my best to weed these out before posting) but I was only going to post one story so...
There'll be plenty of sex and bad language in this one. VERY MATURE AND DISTURBING THEMES. It was very hard to write, but I got so angry after watching a documentary about it I just had to write something where I could control the fate of the monsters that do this. If easily offended, please don't read.
As always, I appreciate any reviews, constructive or otherwise.
And may I say I'm pregnant and very lazy at the moment. On a good day bedtime is about ten PM. On a bad one (and these come often) I'm in bed the same time I put my two year old to bed. Sorry, but this means I might take longer to update than before. I can't help it. I can no longer sit by my laptop until three am trying to get an update out.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Nothing in this story should be taken as truth in part or whole. Everything/everyone else is owned by World Wrestling Entertainment or by the individuals themselves, except my OCs. No copyright infringement intended. And I am not getting paid a single penny for this. If you sue, you'll only get the £0.50 in my purse. Sorry.
They could all go screw themselves, the lot of them. Karen do this, Karen go there... and her name wasn't even Karen. It was Katrina Grace fucking Lang. How did someone confuse Katrina with Karen? It wasn't just one person calling her this, it was all of them. And the worst was that pathetic JBL. Karen, go get me some water. Karen, take these down to wardrobe. Karen, carry my bag down to my car. She felt like screaming. Didn't they have people actually employed to do these things for them? Carry his bags to his car? He was a six foot plus, over two hundred and fifty pounds chunk of man. Could he not carry his damned bags himself? Even if they didn't know her, surely that camera that hung constantly round her neck was a dead giveaway. She was noone's fucking gofer!
If only she could say all this to their faces. But she knew if she said anything she wouldn't be able to hold back. Then she'd have attention she definitely didn't need.
She was dressed in black, baggy boy jeans and a black WWE t-shirt with a woollen hat low on her head, as she sat with her equipment on one of the metal set cases. And she was hoping against hope that no one else would come up to her to ask for a favour.
She heard an irritating giggle and knew straight away who it belonged to. She tensed slightly; even though she knew she was practically invisible to everyone she worked with.
From her high vintage point, she watched as the dumb redhead came into view. She was with one of the new twins; she couldn't be bothered to recall her name.
"Yeah. He's going to be so grateful I'll practically own his ass tonight," Maria laughed as she threw her thick red hair back.
"I still can't get over the fact that he's been faithful to you all this time. You've tamed the Legend Killer," Twiny laughed.
Orton faithful? Dumb bitch! If she gave a fuck she would have told them what was what, but she didn't. Not like that.
"What can I say? I guess I've got some good shit," Maria laughed.
It couldn't be that good if Orton came to her every chance he got! Rolling her eyes, Kat picked her equipment up and started polishing it. Survivor Series was airing in a little while, and Vince was counting on her to take some perfect shots of it for the WWE website and magazine.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, Kat."
She lifted her eyes to see the big man walking towards her with a Mc Donald's bag in his hand. Actually, compared to her, they were all big around here, but Hunter was impressive.
"Yeah? What's up?" she asked with a smile as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
It was funny how that came so easy now, all that affection.
She grabbed the bag out of his hand and quickly took the cheese burger out, biting into it before Hunter could say a word.
"How did you know I was starving?" she asked as she stuffed some fries in her mouth as well.
"I didn't. But I knew I was starving," he said dryly.
"Then why didn't you buy anything for yourself, you idiot," she said, even though she knew what he meant.
She took another bite of the burger, chuckling when she saw his eyes follow it.
"So what do you want?"
To anyone else that would have sounded awfully rude, but she knew Hunter was used to it.
"I want you to come out with me tonight."
"Don't say no, Katrina. Vince gave you this job months ago but you haven't made an effort to make any friends at all," Hunter said. "I'm worried about you. It can't be healthy to want to keep to yourself so much."
"I have made a friend___"
"That painted freaked doesn't count," Hunter cut in again. "You need to be around normal people."
"You wrestlers could hardly be called normal," she chuckled wryly. "And Jeff's the only one who's actually really talked to me the whole time I've been here."
"That's because you walk around like you've got a thorn up your ass! A smile goes a long way, you know."
"Please! These people don't see me, even if I'm all up in their faces. I might as well be part of the furniture," she said as she jumped down from the case and intentionally dumped her half eaten meal in the trash can next to the cases. "I could walk down this hallway completely naked and they wouldn't see me. And I couldn't give less of a shit!"
He only called her by her second name when he thought she was being difficult.
"I'm not coming to the after party with you," she cut in as she grabbed her equipment. "All those egos in one room would fucking suffocate me!"
Hunter sighed because he knew he wouldn't win this argument.
"Well, meet me after the show in my locker room. Steph and I will give you a ride back to the hotel."
"Sure," she answered as she started to walk away from him. "And throw that damned book in the bin. How many times do you have to read it?"
"You should be proud of it, Kat," Hunter called out softly.
She missed the look on his face as he looked down at the hard covered book in his hand.
She didn't answer him as she turned the corner. Yeah, maybe she should have been a bit more proud of that book, but everytime she saw it, she didn't see how far she'd come like Hunter did when he read it. She saw everything she had lost.
So the more distance she put between her and that damned thing the better. It was six months now since it launched in many bookshops, thanks to Hunter and the McMahons, but she still didn't know how to feel about it, even if it was, for some reason, making her quite a lot of money. Her whole life was there in black and white, immortalised on paper for the whole world to read. And judge. She didn't do so well with being judged.
"Hey, Kitty Kat."
She looked up to see the colourful Enigma they called Jeff Hardy walking beside her.
"The hell did you come from? I've told you not to do that shit to me. I could have a knife next time; you won't even see it till you're bleeding to death at my feet."
"Like you could take me," Hardy laughed as he brought his large, tattooed arm around her shoulders.
"Pink?" she asked as she looked up, way up since he was 6'1" and she was only 5'4". "I told you I don't like pink."
He changed his hair colour every week; purple, blue, red... anything, really. He got away with it only because he was Jeff Hardy. Everything about him was unique. His personality, his views on life, everything. He didn't care about rules or conventions. She admired that a lot in him. Everything she wanted... the self assurance, the confidence... it all came so easy to him.
"I know," Jeff said as he smirked down at her. "So where're you goin'? Got time for a cup of coffee? We didn't get to talk when we got up this morning."
"Have you tasted the coffee in Catering? Tastes like cat piss!" she told him, her nose scrunched up in disgust.
"We'll go across the road, then. You know you get withdrawal symptoms when you don't get enough of your daily dose of Hardy."
She rolled her eyes even as she laughed at that.
"I'm sorry, Jeff. I have to work," she said with genuine regret. "I'll meet you at the hotel after, though."
"I have to work, too. I'm sure you can spare five minutes for poor old me."
"You call running into the ring to get knocked out after a minute working?" she chuckled. "I wish I had your job! Now run along, little boy, the grownups have real work to do."
Jeff just chuckled and tightened his grip around her briefly.
"Okay, no coffee then. You feel like going to the after party with me, though?"
"I've told you before, I'd have to have shit for brains to intentionally hang out with your people," she muttered.
"They're not all bad, Kat," he laughed.
"Well, noone's proved that to me yet."
"Katrina, five minutes," someone called out from the end of the hall.
"Gotta go, Hardy. I'll come to your room after I shower and change."
"Alright. Later, sweetheart."
Jeff watched her walk down the hallway to the gorilla position, adjusting her earpiece as she did. She was a weird girl. Coming from him that meant something.
She had this thing about always trying to blend in with the background, but he'd noticed her the second she had walked into the hotel with Hunter almost ten months ago. How could he not, when he'd never seen such deep sadness in anyone's eyes? Then Hunter had said something to her and her eyes had instantly lost their dead look, replaced by a twinkling brightness and a smile that had lit the whole room before she'd thrown her head back in laughter. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her.
The artist in him had been instantly intrigued.
She had unusual looks, what with her being part Chinese, part black and part white. She always joked that she was probably part a million other ethnic groups, but when he asked her what she meant she always clamped up. She didn't like talking about herself much. That was cool with him, because he didn't like talking about himself either.
The moment he had seen that smile and those eyes, his fingers had itched to sketch her. She was an artist's wet dream; everything on her was perfectly proportional. The little button nose, the catlike eyes – which she'd got from her Chinese origins - that were usually a fascinating gray but sometimes seemed silver, the naturally full lips, the kind most women used botox to get, and the shape of her face... Just perfect. And back then she'd had the longest hair he'd ever seen – straight, jet black and all the way down to her waist. She'd since hacked it off though, to a short boyish cut that she claimed was easier to style. And by style she meant run her fingers through it like she didn't give a fuck. Which she didn't, really. He missed the long hair sometimes, but cutting it hadn't detracted one bit from her beauty.
Then there was her skin; from the creamy chocolate colour to the smooth, soft texture... He'd got his first chance to see her naked only a few months back. She'd finally relented to posing nude for him and he'd had to position her just the way he wanted her. Her skin had felt like silk. Since she preferred to wear baggy shit - much like all the clothes he wore, all those hooded tops, baggy bottoms, three quarter shorts, etc - that had been the first time he'd got to see her generous curves. He'd been pleasantly surprised. Frankly, it was the little tattoo on the side of her flat stomach, Chinese symbol of hope, which had done it for him. Or maybe the dead rose tattooed on her upper thigh, with its thorny stem going round her lower thigh like a band. So full of surprises his little Kitty Kat was. The whole time the pencil had followed the smooth lines of her body on the paper, he'd asked himself why the hell she hid a body like that. It was only after they'd got over that hurdle that she'd allowed him certain liberties with her body; like the massages he gave her once in a while. Yes, she definitely had a surprisingly sexy little body. She could give those Divas a run for their money.
If they would just look at her. Really look at her.
He didn't get that. Even though she literally hid herself in her clothes, surely someone would have looked twice at her. Well, someone other than Orton. That stupid prick probably didn't give a shit what lay above her waistline. He was using her and she knew it, but still she stayed. He couldn't understand why. She was way too nice for a guy like that. Well, okay, maybe not nice. But she was too good for Orton.
With a sigh, he turned to walk back. His brother needed his help with something before his match.
"Hey, where've you been? I'm on in ten minutes," Matt called out.
Matt didn't know about Katrina yet. It wasn't that he'd think he was cheating on Angie or anything, but he'd been afraid Kat's name would pop up in a conversation while Angie was around. She was already riding his dick about his supposed infidelity while on the road and he didn't want his friendship with Kat to be jeopardised. Kat was the only person he could be himself around lately, which was surprising as they'd known each other less than a year. But he loved Angie too much and he didn't want to lose her, not when Kat would never be anything more than a friend.
No, Angie could never know about Kitty.
But he couldn't keep her a secret from Matt for much longer. He'd already run out of excuses to explain why he sometimes didn't sleep in his own bed at night. Matt was getting a bit suspicious, maybe if he met Kat for himself, he would realise he wasn't cheating on Angie at all. And maybe he could explain things and Kat would never need to pop up in any conversations they had at home.
All he had to do now was talk Kat out of being so damn antisocial.
"I was just getting some water," he lied as he walked up to his brother.
"Where is it?" Matt asked.
"I drank it," he said easily as he brushed past him into the locker room.
Hunter placed the book on his shelf and sighed. He'd asked her to call it 'Amazing Grace' and it was an apt definition of how her life had turned out, how she had won her battles and come out on top. She'd come through all that and he was proud of her. The way her own family should have been proud of her had they not been too engrossed in their own filthy lives to bother about her. It still made him angry that they were out there, living their lives as if Kat had never existed.
She'd been twelve the first time he'd met her. And he used the term loosely, since she'd actually broken into his home and made herself comfortable on his couch. She'd been sitting in the dark, staring out at nothing, wet and shivering from walking in from the storm that had been raging outside. He'd switched the lights on and almost had a heart attack when he'd seen her. But she hadn't said a word. She hadn't even moved from her spot the whole night. Her sad, dead gray eyes had followed him around the room, really freaking him out as he tried to figure out what to do with her. The storm had caused some disruption with the phone so he couldn't call the police, and he'd figured she wasn't a threat, anyway. Just tired, hungry and cold. He'd given her a towel and some of his old clothes, then made her something to eat, which she'd wolfed down before he'd even got a chance to sit down with his own meal. She hadn't been forthcoming with anything, even her name, but he could tell from just one look how rough she had it.
That night she'd slept on the couch, having refused to move to a bedroom. His plan was to call someone in the morning to get her, he'd just been starting to make a name for himself with the WWF then, and the last thing he'd wanted was some scandal with a little girl ruining his life. But she'd been gone before the crack of dawn. Till this day, he had no idea how she'd managed to get into his house, since no windows or doors had been forced open, but at the time he'd been so relieved that she'd gone.
He'd thought about her from time to time after that, wondering how such a young girl got into that state and if she had any family, but it hadn't been his problem so he hadn't worried about her much. Then a couple of months later, on a clear night, he'd come home from the road and seen her on his couch again. And as the last time, she'd been sitting in the dark. She'd looked worse than she had the first time and this had bothered him quite a bit. Was she homeless? Did she sleep in his house all the time when he was away? If so, why the hell wasn't she eating any of the food? She looked like just skin on bone, and her black hair was just matted and dirty. His phones were working that time, but he hadn't had the heart to throw her out. So he'd cooked for her again. That time, she took him up on his offer of a soak in the tub, after which she'd looked a lot better. But she'd still offered no words, still slept on the couch and had been gone come morning.
And so the relationship was built. She did this a few times, and it was only on the fifth or sixth visit that he'd heard her voice the first time. And only because he'd forced her. He'd threatened to call the police because he was really starting to worry about people talking. He'd given her a choice; her parents or the police. She'd chosen her mother, which had been reassuring because he thought at least she had someone looking out for her. But then he'd rung the woman, who'd told her that Katrina could look after herself because she was working and promptly hung up. So, not only had he learnt her name in that useless phone call, he'd found out Katrina's mum couldn't give less of a shit about her. She'd sounded drunk out of her mind, and he could only imagine what sort of work she was doing in that state.
That had made him so angry he'd told Katrina she could come to his house whenever she wanted. The next time he'd come home and seen her, he'd given her, her own key. And he'd made sure he stocked the fridge and had enough books and dvds lying around for her entertainment when he was on the road. He'd been pleased to find every single book marked and read every time he went back home. She'd slowly started opening up to him, not about the important stuff that he really wanted to know, but about other things. He'd found her to be very mature for her age, and very funny in her own freaky, warped way. Never an optimist, Kat, and of course, after speaking to her mother, he could understand why. She had a view about everything, most of it bleak, but a view never the less. After struggling to get her to talk the first few months, she'd started talking nonstop.
It had come to a point where he had expected her to be home when he got there. She'd still been a bit scary to some people, because she'd still done the freaky observing thing she'd done with him the first few months, not bothering to speak to anyone if she didn't know them and certainly not if she didn't like them. It had taken Shawn at least ten visits before she'd even said hello, and he was sure many months had flown by when she finally held a proper conversation with him. But she'd slowly endeared herself to Shawn, too, even if that fact irritated her to no end. She didn't like people. She certainly didn't bother with any of the social niceties that were expected of everyone else. And more often than not she was frank to the point of rudeness, which often caused some awkward moments. For him, of course. Kat wasn't particularly bothered about things like that.
But she'd gradually become his family, his responsibility. After that one phone call, he'd never spoken to her mum again. He'd become very protective of her, fearing that one day she'd just disappear back into this life he didn't even know about, a life with her mother which he knew had to be hell. He'd talked her into going back to school when she'd confided she hadn't been since she was nine. He'd been really shocked and had thought there'd have to play catch-up for years, but she'd proven herself quiet a little genius. He knew that a lot of nights she'd snuck out, and when he was on the road, she missed a lot of school, but everytime he'd been home, she'd always seemed content.
She'd become just as protective of him. Everyone learnt really quickly that she didn't suffer fools gladly, and the people she considered fools were the ones who intentionally went out of their way to try and hurt him. She'd proved herself quite a loyal friend like that; she always had his back. Even though he'd taken her under his wing, it often seemed the other way round. She'd told him the best moves to make with his career, his money, even at her tender age, and even though she often told him what a stupid career he had.
He smiled when he thought of that. The first time she'd met Vince she had told him what an evil genius he was for exploiting weak people like him, allowing them to break their bodies for only a sick percentage of what he himself was making from them, even though he didn't actually fight himself. And no one dared talk to Vince like that, not even him!
Then after years of this friendship, of thinking they made quite a nice little family unit, a few weeks after she'd turned sixteen, she'd disappeared. He'd gone out of his mind with worry, hoping for even a postcard to let him know she was okay. He'd got nothing.
One year went past. Then another. By the fourth year, he had started to believe he would never ever see her again. By then he'd married Steph and had a beautiful little boy with her, but Kat had always been at the back of his mind. He'd started thinking that maybe she'd been mugged and left in some ditch to die, then buried in an unmarked grave somewhere because there would have been no one to claim her.
On her twentieth birthday, just after he'd had a beer in her honour while Steph put Marcus to sleep, the door bell had rung. When he'd opened it, Kat had stood there, dirty, skinny as fuck and needle tracks and cuts all up her arms.
That had been four years back.
It wasn't until he'd read that book that he'd known the full horror that was her life.
"Hey, H. Wanna go grab something to eat? I'm starving."
He looked up to see Shawn walk into the locker room and drop his bag on one of the benches.
"Yeah. I'm starving, too," he answered, remembering the meal he could have had instead of the shit from Catering.
Kat walked down the aisles for a little while as the crazy WWE fans settled down in their seats at The Garden in Boston, screaming and chanting like idiots as they held up posters and signs for their favourites or the ones they hated. The arena was sold out and there were quite a lot of Hardy fans out there. She took a few photos of them, including the crazy girl whose sign held a very indecent message for Jeff. That one would go straight into his Book of Shame. She would have made him a Wall of Shame if they didn't actually move from city to city like they did every almost night.
She couldn't understand this fad. All these people were there to cheer as half naked, oiled up grown men and women grope each other in the name of entertainment. On national television, no less. Where she came from, they had a name for that.
Pay-per-views were always the worst. There was always this energy, even back stage, which she could never seem to get into as well. And she'd tried. For Hunter, she'd tried. But she just couldn't do it. Which made her the worst person ever to be hired for this particular job. Talk about nepotism! She wasn't actually related by blood, but still. Not only did she not know or care about the names of most of the people she was supposed to photograph, she knew nothing of their past storylines.
Still, she must have been doing a good job. Hunter said she did and Vince hadn't complained a single time. Unless he was just too scared to complain. He could be such a pussy around her sometimes, she couldn't understand why. She was a nice person.
Tonight in particular, he wanted her best work because two of his beat money makers were returning. That Superman-like person they'd been advertising for a while, the one who performed his own neck surgery and walked on water to be back at work the very second he'd finished working on himself or some shit like that. And there was also the surprise one, the square jawed one.
Copperman? Coppermine? Copperfield? Ah, shit. It didn't matter anyway.
"Katrina, one minute," someone told her through her earpiece.
She made her way to the main isle, where Matt was going to come down first. She knew his name only because of Jeff. The other photographer was already there, the one Vince depended on for the best shots, no doubt, for his website and magazine.
She let out a long drawn out sigh and waited for the torture to begin, wishing for the end to come quickly so she could get away from all these people.
AN/ So that's both of them. Please read and review. I'll concentrate on the one that gets the best reception.