Disclaimer: Don't own WWF, own Kat character.
Distribution: Flights
Rating: PG
Summary: Sequel to The Night Before The Show.
I have never been so nervous. I mean, this is my first show, of any kind, in fourteen years. Last one was A-ha at the Verdun Auditorium when I was thirteen years old. And at least I went with my sister and friends to that one. This time, I'm going at it alone. I look at my reflection in the mirror and I have to admit, I look good.
Yesterday, I went to get my hair done and now, it's light and airy and it's got this blue rinse thing going. It's really nice, specially when the light hits it the right way. It looks really blue. I also got a couple henna tattoos done on my arms and on the back of my neck. The Hardy Boyz on the right arm, Lita on the left and the Test cross on the back of my neck.
And my clothes look so damn cool, it's not funny. Shiny black pants that look leathery with bright white stitching and this tight little white tee-shirt that I had made that says Test on my mind on the front and in my bed... on the back. It's a crop top and it shows off my flatter than before stomach. All kidding aside though, with my bright blue Nikes, which I cleaned just for today, I make it look really, really good.
I pull on my dark blue polar fleece sweater, grab my bright red Gortex vest and my Gap bag. I take one last look in the mirror and I bolt out of my place.
"She hot?" Jason asks me.
I ignore him. He's been asking me the same question for the past fourteen hours. Annoying twit.
"Just answer the question so he can shut up already?" Chris Irvine begs me.
"I think so."
Jason doesn't seem satisfied with that answer but I don't give a damn. Right now, I'm cruising on the fact that J.R. agreed to let me win my match against Scott. I hate to admit it but I whined a bit but hey, couldn't let Kat see me lose a live match. She had dressed to impress me and the least I can do is wrestle to impress her.
"Can we meet her?" Adam asks.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Her."
As I approach the Molson Center, I take out my phone and, as promised, I call Andrew.
"I'm here."
"Already?"
"Yeah. I want to get to my seat ASAP."
"Where is it?"
"North side, row D, seat 21."
"North side, row D, sear 21. Cool. I'll be looking for you."
"Me too."
I did not expect this big a crowd, I realize as I replace the phone. But as usual, I take it all in stride and wait my turn. Things move fairly quickly and I'm assaulted by vendors hawking their stuff as soon as I get it. They wave tee-shirts and mementos in my face but I pass right by them. First things first and the first thing is getting to my seat. It's a good one, four rows behind where Lawler and J.R. would sit if this were RAW.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I'm going to see them live. I sit down, look around and giggle. I'm not a giggler but this calls for a giggle. I'm here! And I'm going to get to drool all over Steve, rocky, Trippy, Bird Boy, Rainbow Brite, his Elf brother, my birth brother, the Colgate dude-- and the chicks-- Chyna, Steph, Trish (just for a second and just for Carm) and my lovely-- my Lita. I want to start clapping with joy with the
thought.
And then, I think of the tall Canadian who kissed me almost a month ago and my smile widens into a full-fledged grin. Yep, I can't wait.
My match is in the second half of the show so I can't see Kat until then.
But the Blonde idiots' match against Too Cool is in the first half of the show and when they come back, I can tell from Adam's grin that they stopped her. They were with me when she told me where her seat would be and they heard me repeat it. Damn them! They come into our communal dressing room, nudge each other in the ribs and look at me.
"What?"
"We saw her," Jason says.
Ugh! Damn them for going out first I want to know what they think of her and yet, I don't want to know.
"Good for you," I bite out.
"And now we're going to tell everyone to have a good look at her."
As soon as my match is over, I'm going to snap their necks.
All right, those little rat bastards have done something. I know it for sure. First off, they both stare right at me during their dumb ass poses and during their match, in between tags, they keep on staring. The slightly drunk and portly man next to me nudges me in the ribs and grins at me.
"T'es pas mal populaire, hein?" You're quite popular, eh?
I chuckle nervously. At the intermission, I rush out and grab my cell phone and hit redial.
"I want to meet the idiots."
At least she has a sense of humor about the whole thing.
"Besides that, are you enjoying the show?"
"Yeah! It's really great."
"Good, I'm glad."
"So, when are you coming on?"
"Soon."
"Will you win?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"No, but I had to ask."
"Uh, where will we meet?"
"There's a café up in front. I'll meet you there."
"Cool."
I eye the concession stands with envy.
"I'm going to check out the concession stands, maybe make your boss some money."
"No, don't!"
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Because why?" I ask, a smile forbming on my lips.
"Cause I can get you the stuff for free. Now, what do you want?"
"You don't have to. I have money, you know, a job and shit."
"I know. Call it a present."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"You're a sweetie," I whisper with a smile.
"I am?"
"Yeah."
I move to a more intimate area and sit down on a ledge.
"So what are you going to do now?"
"Just sit around and hang. Look for one of my friends who's supposed to be there."
"Cool. I wish I'd gotten you a backstage pass. You could be here with me."
"That'd be good. But since this is my first house show, I want to get the whole experience, you know."
"OK. But next time..."
"There's going to be a next time?"
"I definitely hope so."
I hear her breathing speed up. I like that. I affect her.
"So where are we going for dinner?"
"Bâton Rouge. Ribs and chicken. I figured you'd want something filling after your match."
"Cool. Can we walk there?"
"That'd be nice but there'll be fans all over the place."
This one time, I wish I were just an ordinary guy taking a girl out on a date.
"True."
"We can take a cab or drive."
"We'll drive."
"Can you do one thing for me?" I ask him, biting my lip.
"Sure."
"Dry your hair and keep it loose."
"Okay, what?"
"When you're on TV and your hair's loose, it looks kind of like spun gold. Always makes me want to reach out and touch it."
"Really?"
God, what a way of making yourself sound like a complete idiot. Somebody shoot me. Oh well, it's out there.
"Really."
"Done then."
"Thank you. Listen, I have to get back to my seat. See you out there. And Andrew? Kick ass!"
"As Madame wishes."
I come out to my music and I spot her right away. She's standing up and cheering me on, the only one in her section and she does not seem to care. Damn she looks really good and with the light in here, she looks like she's surrounded by this blue halo.
I'm so captivated by her that Scott's got to call me back to order a few times. Finally, Tori comes into the ring and knocks me over the head with a garbage can. I hear Kat's indignant cry and I smile to myself. She's too adorable. I knock Tori out of the ring, slap Raven around a couple of times and then I go to the turnbuckle for the flying elbow drop. Ref counts to three and it's over.
I turn my head and see Kat jumping up and down, clapping, and cheering me on. God, I want her to be at all of my shows!!!