Rating: R
Original Date of Completion: April 2008
Starring: Kris Beech, Jarome Iginla, mentions of Andrew Ference.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I wish I did. This is all VERY much fiction, thus fake so no suing. None of this is meant to imply anything about anyone.
Notes: This is set during the 2004 playoffs, I actually started writing it back then, and just finished it on the ODoC. Inspired by the song below, though obviously the name was changed, think of the chorus when it appears in the fic. Beech's POV.
****************
You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He's the only one for me, Jolene
I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Jolene
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don't take him even though you can...
Dolly Parton "Jolene"
Used Without Permission
I watched them from across the room, hidden amongst a throng of nosy reporters. Just like so many times before, neither of them were aware of my presence. I'd learned in the last few months to move in secrecy, to move in silence and not draw any attention to myself. I've had to, otherwise I'd never have known what was going on. I'd have continued to live uninterrupted in my blissful ignorance, thinking everything in my life was just as perfect as it always had been. Had I not learned to tread softly, I'd never have known that perfection didn't exist; I'd never have known my relationship was just a sham, and that Andrew had been cheating on me for months. If it weren't for sneaking, I never would've known about him. Jarome.
Jarome. Jarome. Jarome.
I've never hated a name more in my life. Hell, I've never hated a person more in my life. If I were a less patient person, I'd have walked right up to him and broke a beer bottle over his throat. But that's just not the type of guy I am. I'm not one for physicality, or violence, even though the mere sight of him makes my blood boil. That's why I stood just standing there, hiding, watching them, waiting for my chance to confront him. I know somewhere in my mind that it's not likely to do any good, but I'm not the type to go down without a fight, and this was the way I'd chosen to do that. Even if drawing some blood would’ve probably made me feel 100 times better.
I'm probably the only person on Earth that hates him. He's just so fucking perfect, the world can't resist him. He's the perfect player; he hits, he passes, he scores at will, there's nothing on the ice he doesn't do and do great. Off the ice, he's a perfect leader in the community, an ambassador for the game, Canada's perfect little sweetheart. I don't have issues with any of that, more power to him as far as I'm concerned. What affects me most, what makes me hate him so badly it's hard to see straight...he's beautiful. His eyes, that body, that smile...it's all so much more than I have, than I'd ever have. I know that's why he can do what he does, why he picks and chooses anyone he wants and gets them. A little smile, a laugh, a clever little joke and he gets anyone he wants, regardless if they're involved, married, or in love with someone else. That's what he did to my Andrew. And I hate him for it.
I'm lucky to even have Andy, I'd known that from the very beginning. I'm not the best looking guy around, my body wasn't rippling with muscles, I'd been stuck in the minors for most of my career. Andy could have so much more than me, but he'd never wanted it, at least not in the beginning. He loved me for me, none of that stuff seemed to matter to him. The time we had together in Pittsburgh or Wilkes-Barre was the greatest, perfect even. We were in love and nothing could touch us. Except the hockey, his trade to Calgary. Except for Jarome.
Jarome. Jarome. Jarome.
Everything I’ve heard around me right now is about him. Reporters are gushing about his dominance, coaches are chattering about how he's such a great leader, little kids and players are running around saying how he's their hero. And me, I'm sick to my stomach from hearing it. I wanted nothing more than to jump up on a bench and scream how he's a dirty whore, I wanted to tell everyone what he's doing with Andy and God knows how many other people. Maybe then everyone would realize he's not so fucking perfect.
If I thought for a second that would work, I'd probably do it. But the world has rose colored glasses on when it comes to him. They'd probably all blame Andy for doing it, and don't get me wrong, I blame him too. But I know how Jarome operates, I've seen it happen too many times now not to. He's got this...magic about him. And he knows it. He barely gives a second thought to what he does, just weaves a magic spell and claims another conquest. It's hard, maybe impossible to combat, because you can't even tell it's coming until it's too late. I don't deny for a second that before all of this, before Andy, that it may've worked on me. But now, now I knew how he worked, because he'd worked his magic to take the one great thing I had in my life from me. And now, just the sound of his name made me bubble with rage. Jarome.
Jarome. Jarome. Jarome.
I was here tonight to put an end to that feeling, no matter what it took to do it. I could not longer stand by and let him take Andrew from me; I was going to break his spell over Andy if it was the last thing I ever did. Somehow.
I've played the scene in my head 1000 times before, me confronting him. But each time, it's been different. A different setting, different words to say, different outcomes. It was never the same any time I imagined it, but even with all those scenarios I had never imagined a time like this. They'd just won the Western Conference Finals, he'd been the best player on the ice and played maybe the best game of his life. And here I was, ready to confront him after all of that. Looking at things like that, it looked like *I* was the asshole. Hell, maybe I was. But I had to do this now; I've finally found the courage to come here to this place, and I had no intentions of letting it go to waste. I wasn't leaving here until I talked to him, regardless of what that accomplished, and I'd wait as long as it took. It's not like I had anything else to do, my boyfriend planned to go home with him, while I was supposed to be in a whole other country.
Waiting, unfortunately, was all I had done all night. Every time he separated from Andy, and it looked like I'd get my chance to approach him, someone else sidled up to him. It was almost as if the world was teasing me, laughing at me for wanting to do this at all. It almost made me want to rethink things. Did I really think I'd get him alone tonight? He was too busy wallowing in the hero worship, why would he want even a second alone? And even if he did, it's not like anyone would let him. He was the center of the freaking universe, everyone gravitated to him. And he was far from the type of guy that would shy away from the attention, at least behind closed doors. He'd perfected his "I'm so humble" act for the public eye. He was loving every damn second of the attention, while I was gradually losing patience. The more time that went by, the more impossible it seemed that I'd get even the mere opportunity to speak to him.
Fortunately though, persistence is my strong suit.
I lurked in the shadows, watching him as intently as a hawk watches prey, waiting for my opportunity to strike. I didn’t care how long it took for the opportunity, I only cared that it came. I had waited months already to even make this move, to take this chance and come here to confront him, a few minutes or hours more wouldn’t be that long. The waiting gave me time to gather me thoughts, to rehearse my speech to him; I had tried for years to think of what to say, but it wasn’t until I saw him finally separate from the crowd and walk outside, that I knew exactly what I wanted to say. The waiting had been the build up to perfect clarity.
I followed a few steps behind him as he walked outside, using those seconds to gain the further courage I needed to speak. “Jarome.”
Jarome. Jarome. Jarome.
He paused in his steps, spinning on his heel to turn and face me. When he saw me, a smirk spread across his lips, and my eyes narrowed. I had expected that sort of reaction when I’d come here, he knew about me even if he didn’t know I knew about him. He may have even expected this one day, if Andrew had been at all forthcoming about us. In my months of research, I’d become almost certain that he had been, and Jarome just hadn’t cared. He had what he wanted, and that was all that mattered to him. I was inconsequential.
“Can I help you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in question.
I nodded a bit as I stepped closer to him, taking a deep breath before I spoke. “You can leave Andrew be,” I said softly, jamming my hands in my pocket.
Inside the right, my fingers felt a hint of cold, and I balled them into a fist against it. I took another step closer, bringing us just a few feet apart, and locked my eyes onto his. He stared back at me unblinkingly, an intense stare from deep eyes. This close to him, I could feel the magic he held, and realized how impossible it must be to combat for a normal man. If I didn’t hate him so much, I’m sure I would’ve fallen to it myself.
“And give up that good of a lay?” He laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that one,”
I bit the inside of my lip, and it took everything I had to not drop my gaze from his. I knew he wouldn’t just acquiesce with the first statement, he had toyed with Andrew for far too long to just let him go scot free, like a housecat with a mouse. That was why I had rehearsed more than one sentence, to keep fighting against the selfishness of such a spoiled man so used to the whole world indulging him.
“You can have your choice of ANYONE,” I spoke quietly. “Why take him from me?”
“Because he’s hot and well hung?” He said with a smirk. “Why are YOU still with him?”
Against my better judgement, I found my eyes narrowing into a glare. I cursed myself softly in my head for that, and did a mental head shaking to clear my thoughts. I had told myself in all the time leading up to this that I wouldn’t let him get to me, that I’d stick to the one track and not derail into the childish cat fight it would be if my name was Kristal and his was Jolene.
“Because I LOVE him,” I replied, forcing back the glare. “He’s the only man I will EVER love. I’m not with him for the sex,”
“Then I’m sorry for you,” He snickered, shrugging a shoulder. “Because he’s the hot fuck type, not the warm cuddle.”
I gritted my teeth, jamming my eyes closed for a moment to keep my focus. “Please,” I said softly, slowly opening my eyes. “You can have anyone else. Just let me have him.”
I raised my stare back to his face, just in time to see him roll his eyes. In a flash I felt my blood bubble, and just as fast I clenched my hands into tighter fists, the tips of my fingernails biting into my palm. I knew through all my rehearsing that this would be his reaction, arrogance and indifference; his desires were paramount, how or who they effected didn’t matter. I doubted now that he even cared about Andrew, he only kept him because he could; he only kept him because someone else wanted him. I should’ve known from the start, through all those months of watching and waiting for my moment, that this was just a game to him. He held onto the toys only so no one else could have them, just like a spoiled child.
“Don’t think so,” He said simply, flashing a sinful smile. “And you’re right, I can have my choice of men. And I choose your’s, amongst hundreds of others,” His smile turned to a smirk now. “Deal with it, the better man always wins, and I always get what I want.”
I laughed faintly as he turned around, and I watched him as he walked back toward the building. Inside my jacket pocket, my fingers stretched out and passed over the earlier cold. I had come here to win back Andrew, to ask Jarome to let him free; I had almost begged by the end, but he’d rebuffed me. I should’ve seen that coming, he only cared about himself, and what he wanted. Unfortunately for me, what he wanted this time was what I wanted, and it was clear that there was only going to be one winner in that battle. The better man wins, as he said. And he was that man, I knew that. I had just hoped...
It was a light weight in my hand as I pulled the cold block of steel from my right pocket, rubbing my thumb along the length of it. Scraped messily along its surface was the reason why I was here, why it was here. The letters were rough against my skin, hurriedly, angrily scrawled into black metal before I came here. I read them softly to myself without looking down, never dropping my eyes from him.
“Jarome...”
Jarome. Jarome. Jarome.
I pulled the trigger.
END
© 2008 Triple X