"Would stop it with this Straight Edge bullshit?" Rae Henderson asked, exasperated. "I get it. It's your character, awesome."
"It's me, Rae." Phil told her with a blank stare. "I am my character."
"No, you see, that's where you're wrong." Rae shook her head. "You don't get it! I want my friend back. I'm not talking to Phil right now. I'm talking to CM-motherfucking-Punk. And quite frankly, he can kiss my ass."
Phil winced at the bite in Rae's words. He slumped his shoulders briefly before standing up straight. "Well Rae… I don't know what to tell you. If you can't accept Punk? Then you can't accept me."
"What the hell? Really? Really? You're giving me an ultimatum?" The brunette stood there with an incredulous look on her face. She shook her head and looked up at him with sad eyes. "Well… I guess you just made the decision for me. Later… Punk."
She gave him another glance before turning on her heel and walking away from someone she once considered her closest friend.
"What's on your mind about, honey?" The sleepy voice of Jeff Hardy pierced Rae's ears as his palm settled on her hip.
"Nothing." She shook her head. Even though his eyes weren't open, he could felt her movements on his chest.
"What do you mean?"
"You're squirmin' like fire ants just invaded your pants." He said in that same sleepy tone as his hand gripped her hip softly. "What are you thinkin' about?"
"Just…" Rae sighed. "If things turned out differently."
"His name is Phil." Rae told him.
"But he likes to be called Punk. And as far as I'm concerned, that's all he is. A little mealy-mouthed punk." Jeff grumbled as his voice became more alert.
"Can we not have this conversation?" Rae sighed.
Jeff opened his eyes and looked down at his girlfriend. He sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I just… I hate seeing you so upset over him, baby. You can't change him. You were a good friend to him. It's not your fault that he's a prick and thinks he's better than everyone else just because of the life he lives."
"I know." She cuddled further into his chest.
He kissed her forehead. "Get some rest. We got a lot of travelin' to do tomorrow."
Fat chance of that happening.
A shaved head and thirteen surgical staples. I'm not a happy camper. My guess is, neither is Punk.
This is probably really bad. Jeff is neither on my good or bad side, he's just the person that happened to pop up in my head whilst thinking this up.