The brunette drops into the hot, steaming shower, unable to stand. He falls to his knees with the shampoo suds falling down the drain, a hand struggling to keep him up as eyes focus ahead. The blood mixes in the drops water falling from his nose as the free hand tangles into chunky brunette locks. Falling forward onto the tub, his heavy breath mixes alongside the steam as his breathing pounds his ribs against the tile. He closes his eyes, gasping for anything as it traps his throat instantly reopening them his nails claw at the porcelain. His gaze turns back to the showerhead... everything turns black.
"You ain't got the sense the good Lord gave a cowpie, AJ," Storm chuckles in disbelief before taking a long drink from his beer. Pouting, Styles is quick to refuse the truth again. "Flair would never cheat on me," he said, his voice sad and quiet… Kaz was pretty, but Ric had changed, hadn't he?
The powder lines glitter beautifully in the dark locker room, the fine gold flakes making its way up the clear plastic with each snort before Flair collapses back against the ivory couch, looking nothing short of pleased. Styles wipes away the exhaust from his own face, his fingers gently picking up the straw as he leans forward to the coffee table, his shooting gaze clearing away the watching eyes of the other Fortune members seeing what he's become.
Styles grabs a towel as he heads to the locker room, a request from non other than Ric Flair who had just arrived tonight… the request including that AJ bring it himself. Nervous, he knocks on the door, a wild blush as the legend calls him in. "H-hi…" he smiles, visibly shaking, "My name is Towel, I have an AJ Styles for you."
AJ is quiet, unlike his partner in the seat beside him, drinking fine wine and talking at the top of his lungs, another story about another night on the road with The Four Horsemen to the other Fortune members listening. One of those stories that sounded like a lie. He looks up from his book, the pilot on the speaker, his voice in a panic as the sound of the engine giving out engulfs the cabin of their private jet. Terror strikes through all four of them, with Flair remaining calm as Styles looks up at him, grabbing him close as he cries out for help amidst the other screaming people. "We're going to a party, darlin'." is the older mans only words.
Styles growls furiously, stepping ahead of the gorgeous Kazarian, having had Ric's attention for much longer than he was comfortable with. It would have been easy for Kaz to swipe the Legend from him, and he knew it. Quick to take notice to the jealousy, Flair wraps an arm around the voluptuous waist of his lover, "AJ, when I die of a heart attack, it will be on top of you, wooo!"
AJ stares curiously around the mansion sitting on the beach with an over critical eye and gold spray-paint can. It was above and beyond the small two-bedroom home he really owned back in Georgia, this was just a few paychecks of rent to impress Flair for the weekend.