{{OOC: In order to see the full story, please read Misty's Week 2 RP to be posted later today}}
{I got my speakers on wrecked!}
King’s Chronicles: Entry 1
”In the animal kingdom, it is how one asserts dominance. The caste system is huge in nature, and in every species. As humans, we are supposed to be so much more evolved than that. In fact, it is far from it. We are just lazier. We invent weapons and send others to do our battles for us. You call that superior? “Support our troops” is more like “Support our sheep”… Even in this business, we hide behind and step over others for some meaningless piece of gold. The one thing I agree with my former mentor is that there is no honor in this sport anymore. But that begs the question, what is it like when you constantly get bent over and raped in a business where dominance is key? It sucks… Eventually ya realize you don’t like being someone’s bitch, and ya man the fuck up. Everyone hates what I did but I couldn’t stand the idea of what SCW had become. It was almost as backward as BACW. I took a stand and fought for my morals, but I’m suddenly the bad guy cause I don’t kiss anyone’s ass anymore? Let me make one thing crystal fuckin’ clear, bro… Just cause Team Erik is now defunct, and half of the members ran off with their tail tucked between they legs, that don’t mean I’m gonna stop fightin’ for what I believe in. Even if I am a king without a massive kingdom, I’m gonna prove why I still have the right to call myself the King of the Ring, the Reflection of Perfection… I don’t hide behind others. I’m not afraid to go out there and get my hands a little dirty. I fight my own wars. I will keep breakin’ the traditions of backstabbin’ and laziness parading around as integrity. Even if it makes me the bad guy. I will start off by defeating the things that go bump in the night cleanly. I will then continue by defeatin’ anyone who thinks they got what it takes to dethrone the King of the Ring. Anyone…”
********************************
{Day One}
{Evacuate The Dance Floor}
Where else on the Royal Monarch would you find Giani than inside of its newly updated discotheque? Tonight of all nights was a party sponsored by Giani Di Luca himself, and he spared no expense, having props, extra booze, and dancers carried onto the ship via helicopter. The normally less than desirable club featuring an outdated dance floor the size of a kiddie pool that whirls around with rainbow colors has been transformed to feature Giani’s “Italian Stallion” logo, animated to show it blowing steam from it’s nostrils makes for the perfect focal point. The drab walls have been accented with three cages, each featuring a dancer who might as well be nude, as it would possibly be more appropriate. Underneath each of the nine cages is a fountain of assorted alcoholic mixed drinks to justify the $50 entry fee. On the stage, next to the DJ turntable is Giani’s throne, with a second for his Brat Prince. Other than scantily clad dancers and servers, Giani is the only one in the club at the moment as he tries to make sure everything is perfect. He slowly spins around, putting his hands together to make a square that he can look through. The dancers slack off as “Living Dead Girl (Subliminal Seduction Mix)” by Rob Zombie plays over the speakers. Giani stops, noticing that not one of them is attempting to look good in front of the boss. Giani throws his arms up in the air in instant aggravation.
Giani: C’MON NOW! This AIN’T gonna work for me. You hookers need to take another coke break? The party starts in *checks watch* FIFTEEN MINUTES! Work up a sweat, earn the ridiculous amount of money I’m payin’ ya whores to even be here! God fuckin’ damn it!
Giani clinches his eyes tightly as he rubs his temples. He groans loud enough that it can be heard over the music. His first instinct is to pick up a chair and start breaking things with it, but then a set of hands creep up over his shoulders, gently massaging them. A set of crimson lips leans up against his ears, whispering “Guess who…?” Giani begins rolling his neck around as he takes a deep breath. The lips gently work down to his neck, gently kissing on it as Giani begins to unwind a bit, chuckling.
Giani: How many times do I gotta tell you, Hawkes… Just cause we’re tag partners don’t make us life partners, dawg…
The massaging hands jerk away as one of them slaps his bare shoulder very roughly. Giani’s signature laugh escapes his lips as he turns around to see Misty standing in front of him, her usual Elvira attire and cold attitude sending shivers and quivers up his spine simultaneously. She places her hands on her hips firmly as she looks into his eyes, waiting for him to say something, anything, that would lead her to believe that she was missed. Instead, he just stands there, staring in a sense of disbelief.
Misty: Hi there, Misty. I have missed you like hell “dawg”… I see how it is. I guess you have found other ways of filling your time…
Misty looks at the skanks in the cages, giving him a teasing glare with underlying tones of seriousness. Giani stares at her for a moment with what appears to be an almost blankened expression. He slowly tilts his head to the side as the corner of his lip curls into a quizzical smirk. He chuckles a bit and then returns his head to a normal position as the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smirk.
Giani: Yeah, I did find other ways to fill my time. Like, oh, I don’t know… sending you dozens of flowers each and every day since you lost the Bombshell Championship, and with ya grams bein’ in the hospital. If that didn’t take up enough of my spare time, maybe leavin’ ya voicemails and texts where ninety-nine percent of ‘em went unanswered. Oh, and the one percent ya did return with one word answers, or askin’ me to meet ya last Climax Control, only to stand me the fuck up in the parkin’ lot. I’d say my time has been pretty fuckin’ full without ya around… you are right…
Giani shakes his head after exploding on Misty with sarcastic venom. He turns away from her as if he were expecting some sort of explanation or apology. Instead, he receives silence, deafening silence. He sneers in response before going back to studying the décor of the party. He shakes his head in annoyance before shouting out.
Giani: Ey yo! The pictures of me and James need to be more centered. Ya can’t see our faces with the extra lighting needed to make this place look like somewhere I would actually show my face at! This shit ain’t cheap, and if I’m gonna spend this kinda money, I want it to look like I spent real money on this. Make it look mint in the next 10 minutes or else I’m leavin’!
Giani storms off toward the stairs leading back to the deck of the ship. Misty slowly follows after him, letting him have the space he is seeking. He jogs up the steps, disappearing around the corner as Misty now tries to keep up a little. She jogs after him, coming up onto the deck, passing the bouncers standing in front of the stairs. Giani looks down over to the ocean below him. He seems angry as he pulls a cigarette out of his pants pocket. He pulls a lighter out and lights it before Misty snuffs it with her fingertips. He turns his head to face her with an angered expression on his face.
Misty: And since when exactly did you start smoking Mister Fitness?
Giani shrugs his shoulders as he ignites it again, this time successfully lighting his cigarette. He takes in a deep drag, holding it in like a pro before exhaling many seconds later. Misty forces her way in front of him, pressing her body against his as he plays it cool.
Misty: Who wants to kiss an ashtray?
Giani: Why don’t you just admit that we are too different to ever work out? The sooner you can admit that, the sooner I can move on and stop bein’ so miserable.
Misty: We aren’t as different as you might think, Giani. We are both damaged by our pasts, our parents, our loved ones… We both have purpose here. Those purposes are intertwined. The differences are only on the surface.
Giani rolls his eyes as he steps to the side of her, resting his arms on the guard rails as he takes another drag from his cigarette, leaning over the edge a bit to watch the water cascading off of the boat. She places a consoling hand on his shoulder, even though it should rightfully be the other way around. He shrugs it off, but she doesn’t let him.
Giani: Damn it, don’t touch me! Just go away already…
Misty: No.
Giani turns to face Misty after her blunt response. He has an almost deranged expression on his face. He grits his teeth as he clinches his fists together, about ready to explode. We notice a small tear welling up in his right eye as he desperately fights to keep it from going any further.
Giani: You don’t fuckin’ get it! I don’t want you anymore! I want you out of my head. I want to be done with you…
Misty: But you can’t? You want these things because you are scared of what could come of this. You are afraid that I won’t go away after we have sex, because that is what you are used to. Bianca had a massive effect on you, and now you are scared of allowing yourself to have feelings. Trust me, I had the same thing after Spike. It took you to make me realize that I needed to change it. I will force you to see the same thing about yourself, because… I have feelings for you too.
Giani takes another deep drag from his cigarette before flicking it into the ocean, snuffing it out in the waves. He wants to break things again, but instead, he just lets the emotion drain from his face. He closes his eyes for a moment as Misty rubs on his chest, calming him down. His posture loosens up a bit as fans begin to line up in front of the disco stairs. They don’t quite recognize him yet, and Giani is thankful for that. Misty tilts her head back to look into his deep brown eyes.
Giani: Do you have any idea how bad these last eight weeks hurt me? The second woman I fell for just tosses me to the side when I am tryin’ to be there for her? I can only have so many people treat me like I’m not human before I start feelin’ like I ain’t. As much as I try to deny it, I got feelin’s too, and it takes a lot for me to let someone in.
Misty: I get that. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was ignoring you. I just couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me the way I was. We are such strong people, but now I see what a mistake it was to keep you from seeing me vulnerable. It was terrible of me.
Giani nods his head as he looks into her eyes, letting one single tear drop from his cheek to the deck of the ship. As a second one comes, Misty wipes it away. She pushes her lips against his and they tangle in a passionate fury. He tangles his fingers through her hair, pulling back just a little as he completely gives himself over to her at this moment. He struggles to catch his breath, as she does the same, yet they can’t make themselves stop. They would sooner die than separate from one another. We slowly spin around them, catching their silhouette in the moon as it sparkles over the clear ocean water. She runs her hands up and down his back as the volume of the music nearly triples. The fans cheer as they begin filing into the disco. A stagehand approaches the two, trying to wait patiently. He clears his throat, but it has no effect, so he taps his finger against Giani’s shoulder, causing him to pull away, glaring violently at the much smaller stagehand.
Giani: You lookin’ to get punked, bitch?
Stagehand: Ummm, no… you are expected to attend your own party which is now starting.
Giani: Next time ya touch me, I’m gonna break ya fingers off and shove up straight up ya ass! Understood?
The stagehand nods his head just to get Giani to move it along. Instead, Giani leans down, pressing his lips against Misty’s again as they inch their way toward the stairs. The crowd gives a mixed reaction to their presence, jeers and cheers for the display as they make way for the two lovebirds to make their way down the stairs. Giani’s smile is wider than ever before seen. So much that he doesn’t notice that Misty’s is slightly less enthusiastic. She almost appears to be a bit worried as they disappear down into the disco.
{Day 2}
{Every Time We Touch}
The Cascada song just seemed to keep running through his head. His heart pounding with every heavy beat of the bass. His skin tingles as he lies there, covered only slightly by the white sheet on his crotch. His body is covered in sweat, dripping down his face, and glistening off of his chest and stomach. His body quivers with the aftershocks as he tries with every ounce of strength he has left in him to catch his breath. His head is spinning with glimpses into the hours leading up to this very moment. He can feel her velvet-like skin against his, her moist lips over his body, and each recurring memory sends a jolt through his body. It seems almost surreal to him right now as he tries convincing himself that every second was but another dream. However, the worn out form next to him, hogging the comforter tells another story.
We rewind a few hours to see the door to Giani’s upgraded suite nearly being knocked off of the hinges as it bursts open violently. Coming through the door is Misty, walking backwards as Giani guides her blindly. Her arms are around his neck as he moves her past the white leather furniture that garnishes the large room. He moves her past the hot tub that is in front of the large window looking over the ocean that has replaced what should be a massive wall. He moves her into a mahogany end table, causing her to topple over backwards onto the couch. As if it hadn’t been a mistake at all, Giani crawls over the table, causing it to fall over, the lamp breaking in the throws of passion. He crawls over the arm of the couch, wearing her legs around his neck like the cross chain banging against his chest as he practically folds her in half. She groans in ecstasy as he is hunched over her, pressing his lips against hers again. She claws at his back as she gasps, feeling him press against her through his pants. She causes his back to bleed a little, causing him to get that much more intense. She enjoys the chase, scooting back across the spacious couch so that her back is against the far arm of it. He lifts her up onto his lap where she leans back, showing flexibility. He feels as if he is trying to block a Hurricanrana, but nothing in him wants to block anything. He leans his head to the side, kissing her porcelain thigh as she cries out for mercy. He stops, but this only causes her to shove his head right back to her thigh. She moans loudly, propping herself up on the arm of the couch with one hand as she holds the back of his head, stopping him from going to his intended destination. She slides down a bit, planting one leg on the floor while shoving him over on top of the mahogany coffee table. Giani anticipates what is to come as Misty stands up and over him. She kneels over him, pulling her own shirt off to expose a black and purple lace bra. She grips onto his chain, pulling him up as he starts to protest a bit.
Giani: Hey, that chain cost me…
Misty: Shut your mouth little boy…
She pulls him up enough so that she can lean over and lick his lips in a tease. She grinds her lips, but Giani isn’t going to let her win that easily. He buries his face in her chest as she hugs him close. Her eyes roll back a bit as her eyelids flutter with the passion. She isn’t prepared for him to pick her up. She wraps her legs around him as he lowers her ever so slightly. He leans up and kisses her neck, sending her body into a quivering mess. She moans, begging for it, but Giani isn’t going to let her get away that easily. He throws her down on the bed, causing her entire body to bounce as he lowers his skin tight blue jeans to the floor, revealing a pair of “Italian Stallion” boxer shorts (available at the nearest merch table by the way). He is about to lower them when Misty pulls him down onto the bed by the back of his underwear. He nearly topples over onto her, but he arches his back, pushing into her in his own very horrible teasing manner. His fingers trace the strap of her bra, undoing it, but leaving it where it is for now. He reaches down to unbuckle her belt, but she stops him.
Misty: Earn it, Mr. Di Luca…
Giani chuckles like a little boy as he traces his fingers over her stomach slowly. She savors every moment of it as she looks at her arm tensing up as she digs her nails into the sheets. Giani lowers his head down to her stomach, kissing it slowly as he goes down toward her navel. He runs his tongue around and around it, making her head dizzy as she tries to follow him. He gently nibbles on it, giving a sneak preview of what is to come. She clutches her legs around his neck as he goes lower. He puts her belt buckle in his mouth and undoes it with his tongue. He grips onto the studded belt by the buckle, yanking it off. He lets it dangle from his mouth for a moment as she stares in amazement. He spits it out onto the floor before quickly moving his head under her skirt. He emerges less than a minute later with her black and purple lace panties between his teeth, just like his dream, and he jolts his neck to the side, sending them flying toward the hot top. Misty scoots back to gain ground, but Giani is quickly on the prowl. She gets off of the bed and motions her head toward the hot tub. Giani grins as he pushes himself off of the bed. He wraps his arms around Misty, standing in front of the large window, pressing against her as much as he possibly can. She jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around him. He begins walking toward the tub, but she leans back, sending them both into the tub, splashing water everywhere. She emerges first, the water dripping from her body as her devious look goes unphased. He comes up, the water falling off of his well tanned skin. He brushes the water from his face as he tries to find her. She leans back, letting the bra float off of her as the water is the only thing she needs to conceal her body from view. Her face is the only thing above water as Giani wades across the large party tub toward her. She disappears under the water for a moment, lifting up only to play his game back at him. She has his boxers between her teeth, flinging them into the large window, making a *splat* noise as they slowly slide down the window. Giani shakes his head as if to tell her that she just made a big mistake. He goes under the water, surprising her as she grips onto the side of the tub, on the verge of tears from the sheer amount of pleasure she feels. He starts to come up, but with her free hand, she shoves his head back under water, shaking her head from side to side quickly. She nearly shrieks, shaking as Giani slowly comes up with a smirk on his face. He licks at his lips, sputtering at the same time as he comes closer to her as her shallow breaths pick up a bit.
Giani: Already? Damn, have you ever…
Misty: Ohhhh…. Not… not like that… Don’t stop.
Giani widens his eyes deviously as he moves over toward her. He presses his body against hers, causing her to bite onto her lip until it bleeds a little. She groans loudly as he comes in closer, thrusting in her direction as he holds her head above water. She wraps her arms around him as their lips meet once again.
Giani takes a deep breath, allowing his whole body to shiver once again before slowly leaning up. He looks over at Misty who is sleeping peacefully. He grins from ear to ear as he gently rubs her shoulder. After a moment of this, he yawns and stands up in all of his glory in front of the large window, in front of the hot tub. He stretches out, taking in the slowly rising sun over the rippling ocean water. He couldn’t have imagined a more perfect way to wake up. The camera cuts off at his waist as he walks toward the bathroom. He stands there, staring into the mirror for a moment before walking over to the toilet. After a few seconds, the stream is heard as he looks up, as if thanking God personally. Thinking to himself, he passes the minute by, giving a couple shakes before returning to the mirror. He washes his hands and then splashes water over his face. The cool water trickles down his chin to his chest and stomach as he slowly calms himself down. He takes a deep breath as he finds a fresh pair of black underwear set out on the vanity. He slides them on, checking out his full view in the mirror before walking out of the room and toward the bed, strutting almost as if he is ready for a round… five? Six? He seductively crawls onto the bed, only to notice there is no one under the mound of blankets any longer. His expression sinks to disappointment. The bitter taste of his own medicine panged his heart as he slowly reaches over to cautiously pat the mattress. He feels her warmth still fresh, and that is the moment things got even more confusing. He pulls the blanket slowly up his body as he stays leaned up against the headboard. He only leaves his head exposed as the thoughts go soaring through his mind at a million miles a second.
{Day Three}
{Call Me Maybe?}
”No Missed Calls”
Giani looks at the screen of his phone, tapping it anxiously. He looks at his outgoing call list to show that he has called her twenty times between 8:27am Tuesday and 3:24pm today. He debates whether or not to call again, not wanting to seem desperate. He flips the screen off, but instantly turns it back on to press “Dial”. He taps his foot against the deck surrounding the pool. He leans back casually in the sun chair, propping his legs up as he convinces himself that the twenty-first call would be the one she would answer. After all, she could very well be busy with promotional stuff, right?
Even though his tag team partner, James Huntington-Hawkes… the third… is jabbering away at his side, the only thing his ears pick up is the ringtone that separates him from the breaches of sanity. The sound of the seagulls and the waves gently lapping against the side of the boat does nothing to ease his suffering.
RING… RING… RING…
He takes in a deep breath, forcing a smile upon his face as James paces back and forth in front of him, throwing his arms up in the air as if to protest something. The enraged teenager stomps his foot, almost shouting in anger as he doesn’t seem to notice Giani isn’t paying a lick of attention to him. He listens to the ringing getting louder and more taunting with each passing tone. Finally, the reverie he had been in search of.
Misty: Hello…
Giani: It’s about friggin’ time, woman! I…
Misty: … your Queen is too busy to answer the phone right now, but if you will leave a name, number, and a brief message, I might get back to you if I deem it worthy of my time…
Giani sinks down a bit, hanging his phone up. How could he forget that deceitful greeting to be the same one from the past twenty messages? He sighs before rolling over to see the same text message next to Misty’s picture. Each letter of his pathetic beckoning feels like a stab to his heart as he reads “You there?” He scoffs at it, ready to toss his phone into the ocean below. As he grips it tightly, ready to toss it, he hears the tone that instantly calms his nerves. A simple “DING!” makes his eyes light up as he flips the power button back on. “Watchu doin? Need me 2 come 2 u?” pops up on the screen. Giani is so blinded by hope right now that he doesn’t realize Misty is well above abbreviations and the text lingo. He slides the screen on to see a picture of Dean Lombardo staring back at him and he grunts in disappointment. He shakes the cobwebs out, ready to acknowledge his tag partner for the first time in about forty-eight hours, watching him pace.
JHHIII: … and they have the nerve to call THAT a suite? Is this how they expect to treat a champion? I mean, not everyone can get a room like you got, but give me something, here! The only view I have from my upgraded room is a picture of fat people overeating crab legs and sirloin steak. Sirloin for Christ’s sake! At least in the other room I didn’t have to look at fat, shirtless poor people…
Giani almost wishes he hadn’t begun paying attention. He sets his phone down on top of his sky blue towel. He leans up a bit, lowering his shades as he watches James come to a stop.
JHHIII: And you… you took the best room on the cruise, you asshole! Then to top it off, you aren’t even talking to me. I have more meaningful conversations with Simpson!
Giani: What do you think she is doing right now?
James stops and his angry look gets a tinge of curiosity to it. He raises an eyebrow as he turns to face Giani directly. He folds his arms across his chest as if feeling offended that Giani isn’t paying attention to him. Giani looks up through his sunglasses, genuinely wanting to hear an answer from his… well his best friend.
JHHIII: Who are you talking about? More importantly, why do you even care? You have never cared before what some groupie girl was doing the day after you kicked her out.
Giani: It’s not some groupie, it’s Misty. I have been trying to call her since the morning she left, and…
JHHIII: Wait, the next morning? As in, she stayed the night?
Giani nods his head, smiling from ear to ear. James rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment. He takes his arms from over his chest and lowers them, looking through his sunglasses, and Giani’s as if they weren’t even present, and Giani feels the probing stare.
JHHIII: What the hell are you talking about, broski? You… YOU SAID that rule number one is to never… EVER let a girl stay the night unless you are going to marry her, and…
Giani’s grin grows just a bit, as if it were even possible as he almost fades back into a fantasy world where Misty comes running up to him. He would embrace her tightly, lifting her off of the ground, spinning around slowly as he stares into her gorgeous, almost animalistic eyes. James snaps his fingers to stop him from escaping to this world again. Giani looks back to James.
JHHIII: Okay, do you remember how you used to say some pretty mean things about me? How you used to tease me, and sometimes still do? I used to hate it, and I have contemplated many times knocking that shit eating smile off of your face. But, you told me that you were doing it for my own good because you were a true friend to me. I didn’t believe it at first, but now I know you are true to your word.
Giani: Yeah? You mean like how I told you that you don’t have the right body to wear skinny jeans cause they make ya look like ya got chicken legs?
JHHIII: You never said that…!
Giani chuckles lightly and nervously as if waiting for James to pick up the hint. James stomps his feet angrily, running his fingers through his hair as he grips and tugs at it. He pulls himself back together slightly as he points right at Giani.
JHHIII: Yeah, just like that! Well it’s payback time. See, I let you chase after her because it was a challenge that kept you focused. You strived to impress that little tart, and we went beast mode in every match we’ve had since. I can already tell that this has gone bad, and…
Giani: She is just perfect in every way. She has the right imperfections, yaknowhatimsayin’ bro?
JHHIII: No, I don’t. She is more pale than a vampire on True Blood. Her hair is more black than the goth kids in high school I used to make fun of for pretending to be rebels because their dad’s didn’t buy them the car they wanted like mine did. She is also two steps away from a retirement home in Florida where all old people go to dry up in the sun. And her wardrobe looks like something you would see in Monster High. And she thinks she is so much better than everyone because she stole her moniker from Anne Rice! She’s a cliché through and through. And, she smells like a Hot Topic store in L.A.! L.A. Giani!
Giani: Just perfect…
James shakes his head again, pulling the beach chair next to Giani a bit closer. A kid comes running by and right into the chair, tripping over it. The kid skins up his knee and holds onto it, crying. Not even this distraction can get Giani unglued from the fantasy of Misty. James laughs and points at the kid, recognizing him as the one who had kicked the ball at his face during his earlier promo.
JHHIII: Hello, Earth to Giani… Are you even listening to me here? Misty is far from perfect. She is actually the exact opposite of perfect. She looks like and elderyly version of one of those kids who is obsessed with Nightmare Before Christmas. She is disgusting in every imaginable way.
Giani: She’s just goin’ through a rough time right now. She doesn’t feel like being around all of these asshats runnin’ around here. I should text her and let her know she can stop by my room… or should I go by her’s?
JHHIII: NEITHER! You should let her go back to reading her Twilight novels and get over her. She is obviously not interested anymore.
Giani lets out a “pshhhhh” sound as he rolls his eyes. He chuckles a bit, patting James on the shoulder playfully. He smirks and winks at James as if to let him know that he is in on the nonexistent joke as well.
Giani: Yeah… right… She had a taste, and she WILL be back. They always come crawlin’ back. Not interested? That’s rich, dawg…
JHHIII: You are hopeless right now. Simply hopeless. I guess I might as well go and hand our belts over to Goth and Brother Grimm right now because you are nowhere near focused. Maybe they will let us do that to save us from the embarrassment, do you think?
Giani: Maybe I should ask Misty to come out to ringside with us. Ya know, to make sure Goth’s banshee bitch don’t try to get involved in our match? Whatcha think of that idea?
James growls loudly as he tilts his head back. He looks up at the sun so that maybe it would dull his senses a bit and he could be free of this bumbling idiot. Once he realizes it isn’t going to work, he bends down a bit to level with Giani.
JHHIII: I think it’s a stupid idea because she isn’t even going to answer the phone. She used you up for a cheap thrill, and she’s moved on already. She is probably sitting in her poor people cabin, laughing with the Little Mermaid Gone Goth each time you call and text her. I would put a million dollars on it, Gi!
Giani: Nah, she’s just not a day time person. Have a look at her complexion if ya don’t believe me there, right bro?
JHHIII: Are you trying to make this easy for me, Gi? If that were true, then why did she ignore your calls between…
James picks up Giani’s phone from the towel. He opens it up and goes to his call history. He thumbs through it until he reaches the bottom of the list. He holds his finger up in the air as if to let Giani know that he is being one hundred percent accurate with his findings. Giani tries to fight the phone away, but James bats his hand away each and every time.
JHHIII: … 6:19 pm, or 6:42 pm, or… or 7:58 pm. Let’s not forget about 8:02 pm, or 9:09 pm, or 10:37 pm, 11:57 pm, 1:02, 1:03, 2:14, 3:00 on the dot, or 4:11 am? Why would she not respond to calls or texts between those times? That is stalker, Giani. It’s creepy, and it’s pathetic. You taught me better than that, bro.
Giani: Like you didn’t do that shit with girls up until, like a week ago… I had to kidnap ya phone many times so that ya wouldn’t get a restraining order filed against ya. This ain’t nowhere near as bad as any of that.
JHHIII: For you, it is though. You need to get it through your thick head, bro. She is not going to come running back to you unless she needs another fling to make her remember she is a human and not some demon Queen. She isn’t going to want you to marry her. She just used you, the same way you have used up all of the groupie hookers from the clubs. The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can talk some sort of strategy on how exactly we plan to beat those freaks to keep our titles.
Giani lowers his stare to the deck. He thinks it over and it makes some sense to him. They always say that karma is a bitch, but this just felt cruel and unusual. He slowly shakes his head, running his fingers over his perfectly plastered faux hawk. His mouth hangs open in a bit of disbelief as it starts to sink in.
Giani: Just leave me alone right now, dawg.
JHHIII: I’m sorry, Giani… for some reason, you are the only person I have trouble being mean to, but I had to.
Giani: Please just go…
James stands up from the chair, but he does anything but leave. He steps closer to Giani, handing him his cell phone back. Giani pries his stare from the deck of the pool to see the phone, only to snatch it from James’s hand. He tosses it behind him on the chair, bouncing off of the back and down against his bottom through his swim trunks. Giani clinches his jaw tightly as he fights back saying anything. James puts his hand on Giani’s shoulder, but Giani quickly shrugs it off, shoving his arm back to his side hard enough to make James wince a bit.
JHHIII: Don’t do this, Giani. Let’s just go for a swim, or to the dance hall, or…
Giani: LEAVE! How the fuck else am I supposed to say it to ya? Beat it, scram, get lost, fuck off… whatever it takes to make ya turn ya Justin Bieber ass around and walk the fuck away from me.
James swallows hard as he stands firm. He shakes his head from side to side in a very defiant manner. Giani slowly stands up from his beach chair and leans back to crack his back. He lowers his shades, trying to intimidate James. He is successful, but the willful little brat refuses to leave, continuing to shake his head.
JHHIII: Nuh-nuh-no…
Giani: What the fuck you just said to me?
JHHIII: I suh-said… no, I’m not guh-going anywhere…
Giani shakes his head angrily as he runs his fingers over his well chiseled chin. He licks his lips deviously as he plots for a moment. Out of nowhere, Giani lifts James up in the air Military Press Slam style and turns around. He walks a few feet as James kicks to try getting out of it, but he isn’t prepared for Giani to launch him right into the pool. Security comes up to the pair, but Giani just bumps shoulders with them, walking past them. He has a big mix of emotions running through his head right now, but he can’t help feeling a bit proud of what he’s just done. Even as James comes up to the surface, gasping for air, fully clothed, Giani walks off. Security helps pull James onto the deck as he sputters water out.
JHHIII: How rude!
Giani continues walking off, leaving the destruction of his friendship in his wake. Now, if only he could find a way to do the same thing with his feelings for Misty…
{Day Four}
{Wide Awake}
His strong, masculine hands trace her nearly naked body, running his finger tips over her creamy white skin, feeling the silky texture as he follows the curves of her thighs. The candles give light to the otherwise dark room. It casts an orange glow over her quivering stomach as his fingers skip over the bunched up sheets to run over her tiny naval. His neatly spiked faux hawk seems to cut through the abyss as Giani’s face comes into view. His face suggests that he is in a state of pure serenity. He presses his perfectly conditioned lips to her stomach and his breaths become slightly more shallow as he works up to her covered chest. Her body quakes below his muscular frame as he slowly works up to her neck where he ravages it as if he were a creature of the night. She brushes her dark tresses to the side to allow him better access to this sweet spot. She turns her face and mutters one word that sends shivers down his spine, causing him to arch his back.
Bianca Solderini: Mio…
This display feels so wrong and so right at the same time. Giani lifts her up from the bed as if she were but a mere pound, and he drapes her over his lap, tangled in the white sheets and her body. She takes charge as she teases his lips with her own, coming in for a kiss, only to pull back at the last second. She runs her hands over the peach fuzz on the side of his head, pressing her chest against his as she hovers over him. He looks as innocent as a child now, watching the flames of the candles dancing in her eyes. She sways from side to side, making him beg now as her own sick and twisted form of revenge. She gasps as her chest heaves against his.
Biana: Mi amore, Giani… I have never felt such a way before. You are, as they say, one of a kind…
Her thick Italian accent seems to tickle him from the inside out as she gently claws at his back, leaving painfully pleasuring marks on his back as she holds him as close to her own body as she possibly can. Giani looks into her blue eyes, running his hands up her bare back, gently pulling her hair back as he decides to avenge himself. He adjusts her so that he has the upper hand. He looks into her eyes, watching the light dance within them.
Giani: I have never felt so into a girl before either. I can’t help myself with you, B.
Bianca: Unless you say this to all of the girls, I do believe I have you… as they say… whipped?
Giani chuckles to himself. As much as it would hurt his pride to admit such a thing in public, it was quite true. He knew she had him wrapped around her finger, and he was alright with that, because he had her wrapped around his too. He wouldn’t tell her such a thing because he likes letting her think she’s in control. He kisses her deeply before leaning her back just a bit, hunching over her.
Giani: You wish, don’tcha? I’m too much man to be tamed so easily.
Bianca: Oh, well then I guess I will have to work some harder, yes?
Giani grins from ear to ear as he slowly nods his head. She giggles as she shoves him down to the bed. She leans over him, kissing his lips, then his chiseled chin, then his neck… She stays there for a moment before working down to his chest, and his stomach, before disappearing. Giani’s whole body quivers until he takes a deep, hard breath…
“And then she was gone, like a cruel joke being played on me to teach me that I should never love or trust again… But I refused to listen, until now.”
The sun is setting on the Royal Monarch cruise liner as the adult life really picks up. A group of girls giggles as they walk past the crew who goes to stop them. The tall, bald man with the big gut holds his arm out over the rope meant to keep the general public away from the likes of Christian Underwood, “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward, and a handful of other privileged individuals who can afford the finer rooms. The girls try to object at once, their whiny voices ringing through his ears, but he refuses to give up his steady stance. Suddenly, Dean Lombardo moves his way through the crowd of women and flashes his own pass at the middle aged man. He inspects it carefully and then looks up to Dean’s face, recognizing him. He lowers the rope and the girls excitedly squeal and jump up and down as they continue on. Dean gives the guard a nod of appreciation as he moves along. The girls begin singing as they move closer to their destination. Dean leads the girls to Giani’s spacious suite. He pulls out the pass and slides it through the reader, unlocking the door. The girls giddily wait for what is ahead of them as Dean opens the door, leading them inside. They look around to see that Giani is nowhere to be found. Their eyes wander over the empty hot tub, the open concept wash room leading to the bathroom, and the bed. One of the girls spots something and points at Giani sitting on the couch. They almost don’t recognize the self proclaimed Reflection of Perfection as he sits in front of the fifty inch plasma television. Upon further inspection, they see Giani wearing reading glasses, covered up in a black Snuggie covered in chip crumbs, in front of The Lake House, staring at the screen as if he were looking through it. The girls scratch their heads in confusion before looking back to Dean. A petit woman of African American decent steps forward angrily, brushing her hands down her white silk dress until they meet with her hips.
Girl 1: You said we was gonna get to kick it wit Giani Di Luca, not this busted ass fool…
The other girls nod their heads and shout out in agreement. Dean clears his throat to protest, only to notice that Giani has taken his eyes off of the television screen for the first time since tossing James into the pool the day before. He lowers his glasses to the tip of his nose as if to ask Dean what he was thinking. Dean shrugs his shoulders up in aggravation.
Dean: What?! You said to go out there and pick up the finest ladies I could find, and I think I did pretty damn good here kiddo…
Giani scoffs at Dean’s efforts and rolls his eyes before turning back to the television, burying himself in the Snuggie, reaching up only to grab the bowl of Dorito’s sitting next to him on the couch. He methodically pulls one out and begins nibbling slowly around the edges as if eating chips were some form of art. Each crunch seems to annoy Dean even further as a blonde with pink highlights grunts in disappointment before walking out of the room.
Dean: Look what just happened kid! Ya lost one.
Giani: It’s okay, her ass was too boney anyway…
Giani mumbles just loud enough for everyone to hear, in a very matter of fact tone. The only girl to speak thus far chuckles under her breath as she turns around to give him a show. Giani refuses to look as he continues to nibble on the single Dorito. Dean nudges his head in Giani’s direction so that the ladies might liven his spirits a bit. They start over toward him and Giani takes a break from his chip to look in their directions, his mouth open in disbelief.
Giani: Really? This is the best ya could do, Dino? First, we had Ms. No Booty who walked out, then we got the redhead with herpes sores around her mouth from… ya know…
Giani clicks his jaw as he opens his mouth and motions his fist toward his lips, poking the opposite side with his tongue.
Giani: And the brunettes, one looks like she fell out of the ugly tree, hittin’ every branch on the way down, the other has obviously had like a dozen kids already and should NOT be wearin’ a crop top, and the even sluttier Vixen wannabe chick… The only one who even kinda looks hot is Ms. Brown Sugar over there with them sweet honey buns. Is this seriously the best ya could do, even droppin’ my name? Disgustin’ dawg…
Before Dean can even object, every one of the girls except the favored one mumbles something about him being an asshole before filing out of the room. Giani gives them a quick salute before returning his attention to the chip and the chick flick on the television. Dean looks at Giani and then to the last girl leaving the room, giving her backside a firm slap before disappearing. Dean closes the door behind them and leans against it, visibly upset. However, he finds solace in the fact that one girl passed Giani’s test. He watches as she giddily moves over toward Giani, trying to keep her cool at the same time. She slides onto the couch next to Giani, picking the bowl of chips up and placing it on the table in front of her. She licks her glossy pink lips as she plays with her hoop earring. Her ebony eyes almost seem to undress Giani, but she is cut short when Giani reaches for the chip bowl. He makes baby noises as they aren’t in his immediate reach any longer.
Giani: I can’t reach them anymore.
Girl: Well, why don’t I gone ahead and get you one, boo?
She reaches forward, picking one up and placing it to Giani’s lips. He catches it playfully with his teeth, crunching it down as the crumbs reunite with their fallen brethren on his chest. She moves it around his mouth so that he might continue methodically chewing them down, edge to edge to edge.
Girl: So, ummm… I heard you was a lil bit lonely tonight, and I thought maybe we could go one over to the hot tub, relax in front of the beautiful view out the window wit a lil bit of champagne or somethin’?
Giani smiles warmly as he looks over at her. Her own grin grows until she sees Giani slowly shaking his head from side to side in the negative. She almost seems offended until Giani offers an explanation… then she is REALLY offended.
Giani: Nah… I already beat in some chick’s guts in there… and in the bed… and on the couch… and a few spots on the floor too.
Girl: Beat in what? You a dawwwwg, playa… You nasty.
Giani: See, I kinda loved her though, so…
She lets out a laugh that is meant to disguise her anger, shaking her head from side to side. She rolls her eyes, holding a hand out in his direction, trying to think of how to respond to that. She just gets up and storms over to the door, but not before dumping the bowl of chips over his head. Giani’s eyes slowly wander back to the television with chips falling down around him. He even picks one off of the top of his head and goes back to chewing the edges off. Dean growls as he walks over to Giani, standing in front of the television. Giani shifts to his side to look around Dean to see Keanu Reeves getting hit by a car, gasping in surprise like a little girl. Dean leans down, getting right in Giani’s face. Giani is ready to protest it when Dean reaches back with everything he’s got and slaps Giani across the face. Giani clutches his cheek, shaking the cheese dust from his head, his eyes showing a sudden rage
Giani: The FUCK WAS THAT?!?
Dean: THAT was ya wake up call, Gi! It’s time to snap the fuck outta it!
Giani: Uhhh exCUSE me?! How dare you speak to ME of all people that way, Dean!
Dean sits back on the coffee table, refusing to back down from Giani. He hovers over Giani, returning his cold stare with just as much chill in his own. He licks at his lips, determined to be heard.
Dean: And who exactly are ya, kid? Ya some beat up, broken down, piece of shit tag team wrestler who let some pasty faced bitch take away everythin’ he’s worked so hard for in the last year, just cause ya got a little taste of the sweet stuff. Ya need to snap out of it.
Giani: Who exactly do ya think ya talkin’ to, Dean? I ain’t lost nothin’. I still got the swag in my step. I’m just a little down and out right now.
Dean: Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s it. That’s why ya sittin’ in a mess of Funny Bones and Doritos, right? In a Snugglie…
Giani: Snuggie…
Dean: WHATEVER! You are too lazy to even go out huntin’ ya own tail, sendin’ me to do it for ya. Ya dumped on ya best friend in the world right now, embarrassing him in front of everyone at the pool yesterday. Ya pathetic, kid! And if ya don’t snap outta it, ya won’t need me anymore, cause nobody is gonna have a reason to come after ya unless they wanna sell ya Diabetes testing supplies…
Giani clinches his jaw tightly, his entire face shaking as he tries his best to verbalize his objections, but he is too angry to spit it out. He lets out what sounds like carbonation leaving a soda as he shoves himself hard into the back of the couch.
Giani: J-j-just get the hell outta here, Dean. I don’t wanna see ya face right now. I don’t wanna see nobody’s face right now…
Dean: Nope.
Giani: Ya obviously know what happened to the last punk ass who said that shit to me. Ya wanna go for a swim with the fishes dawg?
Dean: Pssssshhhhhhh…. You could try, but I’d have ya face broken in a hundred pieces by the time we got to the door…
Giani thrusts himself off of the sofa, tackling Dean down to the floor. He gets a grin of satisfaction until Dean rolls him over on his back, pinning him down in a rough manner. Giani tries to reach up and pop him in the face, but Dean grabs onto his wrist, pinning it down to the ground. Giani goes for the other one, but Dean blocks it, and then wrestles it to the ground too. Dean holds him down until Giani bumps him forward into the entertainment hutch. Giani chuckles in satisfaction as he gives Dean a rough kick to the gut. He licks his finger and touches some imaginary hot spot in the air. However, Dean hits a rough punch straight to Giani’s groin, doubling him over. Dean does a Monkey Flip to Giani, planting him through the coffee table. Giani clutches his back as Dean gets on top of Giani, holding him down.
Dean: Ya fightin’… thuh-that’s a goo-ood sign kiddo… Ya gonna need every bit of that fight to keep ya belts this Sunday… but ya ain’t gonna chase me off the way ya did to James. Ya wanna be alone so ya can feel sorry for ya’self but I ain’t gonna let that work with me. Capiche?
Giani: Fuck you..
Dean: Ha… you are still trying, but I ain’t gonna give that Elvira bitch the satisfaction of tearin’ ya down. I ain’t gonna leave ya alone until ya prove to me that ya gonna get over this and focus on ya match.
Giani: I beat them I don’t know how many times. I don’t need some stupid ass intervention to help me beat them, cause it’s gonna happen whether I’m at the top of my game or not.
Dean lifts up one arm to shake it out, using his other arm to hold the struggling Giani down to the floor. He switches out arms to stretch the other one before returning his full strength to Giani’s wrists. Giani growls as he tries to escape, but to no avail.
Dean: Not buyin’ ya shit, kiddo… I ain’t wrestled in over a decade, and I’m still holdin’ ya down. Whatcha think some painted up freakazoids who has wrestled could do? Plus, ya don’t have ya friend to back ya up anymore. The chemistry is gone. Ya gonna need a miracle to win. As soon as ya get me off of ya, I will leave if ya want. But, until then, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.
Giani: I guess this is gonna be a long night then… It’s cool, I’m used to long nights. The only thing missin’ is Misty screamin’ out my name, beggin’ for mercy.
Dean: The sooner ya forget that Satanic whore’s name, the better. Get ya head straight, kid. How many women have ya slept with in the last couple months since I’ve known ya? And how many have ya played the same game with? Ya can’t take it personal… Just go back to doin’ ya thing, and you’ll get it back.
Giani: I ain’t lost nothing…
Dean just shrugs his shoulders, silently begging to differ. Giani goads him along like a little kid, trying to convince him, but Dean isn’t giving up so easily. Giani zips his lips, refusing to say another word, but this is almost like music to Dean’s ears. Dean smirks as he feels the vein in his forehead pulsing forward. He isn’t done by a long shot, refusing to give in even a little. He lets up a bit on his grip as Giani slides from under him. Giani moves over to the couch where he sits on the chips, crumbling them underneath his weight. Dean sits down next to him as the camera fades out to a blank screen.
{Day 5}
{Burning Down The House}
Everyone stops to take notice of the Italian Stallion walking down the deck as the sun glistens off of his oiled skin of his exposed shoulders, back, and chest, and his sunglasses. He slowly looks over to his half of the Tag Team Championship belts, dusting off an imaginary bit to draw attention to it. He walks in what feels like slow motion. The men open their mouths to boo and taunt him as he walks by. The women stop and enjoy his perfectly chiseled physique, their eyes wandering down to his boot cut jeans with tattoo design stitching to help accentuate his manly curves. Some lick their lips, wanting to hate him and jump his bones at exactly the same time. Others rub the small beads of sweat forming at their bust line, trying not to make their boyfriends jealous as they fantasize about all the things he can do for them that their boyfriends cannot. He simply lowers his sunglasses, giving them a cocky wink before turning to face straight ahead. He pushes up his sunglasses to their proper spot as he cracks his neck. His fresh white sneakers finish off his perfectly designed outfit for a little tanning by the pool as was his usual routine at this point in time. He looks down to his iced out watch noticing that he is about two hours late, but for some reason he just didn’t care.
Giani is done sulking, and instead he wants to enjoy this cruise while he still can. He adjusts the title belt as a child around eleven years old points his thumbs down at Giani. He sticks his tongue out, only for Giani to return the favor, which surprises the kid. Giani snatches an oversized bag of Skittles from the kid and then dumps them out by their feet. He grins an arrogant smirk before turning to corner to go toward the pool. Inadvertently he spots the last person on Earth he would expect to see here. The pasty white legs of Misty catch his eyes first, leading up the familiar territory to a short, jet black and purple skirt meant to be beachwear for Hot Topic kids. He looks up past her pierced navel and on to the matching bikini top. He sees her hair pulled back to allow the maximum amount of sun to hit her pale body, and sunglasses to shield her eyes. He crinkles his nose and lips in disgust and annoyance. Surely he wouldn’t be the one to back away. This was HIS spot, and he wasn’t about to surrender it to Misty. He starts to walk over to her when Pussy Willow approaches him in a sparkling hot pink bikini top and a matching waist wrap. He rolls his eyes underneath the glasses.
PW: Giani Di Luca! Can I get a word with you?
Giani: Sure, but ya already over ya limit by nine words. Get lost tits…
Giani goes to walk past her but, she insists further as she steps in front of him. Her persistence annoys Giani. He pulls his sunglasses off and looks directly at her so that she might be able to see this in his eyes. She giggles nervously before continuing.
PW: Aha… well, the interview team has been trying to set up a time to speak with you about your upcoming match with James Huntington-Hawkes the third versus Goth and Brother Grimm, but you haven’t responded, so…
Giani looks into her eyes, a mischievous light shining from them as the sun sparkles off of his deep brown eyes. He leans in a bit, taking notice of the camera as he turns to face it for a second. He puckers his lips out, blowing a kiss to the haters before turning back to Ms. Willow.
Giani: So, uhhh… I guess you thought of it as a good idea to come an’ find me when I’m obviously too busy to be bothered with a two bit skeavy little stoner fuck, a mousy woman with tits so big, nobody notices that she looks like a socially awkward, shell shocked, librarian stalker, and you… who has twice as many breasts as she does brain cells.
PW: You are being awfully rude Mr. Di Luca.
Giani: This is exactly why I do my own interviews in my green room. What made you think I wanted to see any of ya faces on this cruise when I hardly ever talk to ya in the first place?
Pussy looks at Giani, blinking steadily in confusion as she tries to figure out how to respond. Giani rolls his fingers around, waiting for her to come up with something. She sighs and looks at Giani, leveling with him.
PW: Look, I need to get a good interview with you because the other two bet me I couldn’t. They said you have been a shut in through most of this cruise, and I just want to prove to them that I can do what they can. And I figured without your green room on board, you might give me this one?
Giani stops his smiling as he moves his fingers to his chin, stroking it gently as he thinks it over. He relaxes his posture a bit and sighs as he looks dead into Pussy’s eyes. He moves from side to side slowly, looking as if it is taking everything in him to oblige her.
Giani: Ummm… no. See, I’m Giani Di Luca, the King of the Ring, The Reflection of Perfection… The Italian Stallion… I do things on my own terms, when I want, where I want, and how I want. If I’m honest here, I got nothin’ to say to ya or the ungrateful fans. So if ya wanna make some headline worthy story, post this as an online exclusive. Giani Di Luca don’t care one lick about the fans. He don’t care who buys his merchandise, cause there are plenty of teenage girls and closeted homosexuals who will still go out and buy his merchandise, who will keep fillin’ seats to see him wrestle, and who will keep on paddin’ his pockets. Any faint glimmer of hope that the fans had that I might one day return to see the light, and change my ways to come back as the guy who I was a year ago… is gone. It’s dead. It walked outta the door around 6am Tuesday mornin’ and refused to return his calls. You can also tell Brother Grimm and Goth that if they ever hope to make it outta that ring alive, they better not say one motherfuckin’ word about…
PW: Misty?
Giani is about to say the same name that Pussy eagerly inquires about, but he stops himself, making his voice twist into some sort of hurt, angry, depressed, sullen mixture resulting in a squeak. His face turns red as he looks at the unsuspecting Pussy Willow, and rage fills his face. He balls up his fists as if the thought of bouncing a fist off of her jaw had crossed his mind. He glares at her silently for nearly a minute as she awaits his response. He doesn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer, instead he lowers his sunglasses. He picks up the SCW issued camera and tosses it in the pool where most of his problems wind up apparently. As it sizzles and breaks up, Giani’s own camera immediately picks up. Giani grits his teeth as he throws a few bills at Pussy. He shakes his head as he storms off, unsure what he will do next. He sees Misty sitting in the sun chair, still unaware of his presence. He has a strong presence as he gets nearer and nearer. She looks up as the surrounding people begin to mutter under their breath. Giani realizes that word travels quickly around the ship as he gets within fifty feet of her now. He traces the edge of the pool, only to see Misty stand up from the chair. She lifts her sunglasses and he lifts his. Their eyes meet in a game of chicken, both standing still. The talk around them becomes too much for Giani to handle any longer. He takes one step forward and Misty leans down, gathering her belongings. He tries to rush over toward her when he trips over some toys sitting along the edge of the pool, toppling over and into the pool. He carefully rolls so not to hit his head on the edge of the pool. He falls inside and slowly sinks to the bottom, accepting it for a moment. He lets the cool water calm him down a bit as he slowly floats back up to the top. He opens his eyes, wiping at his face, only to see that Misty is nowhere to be found. He takes a deep breath and just closes his eyes, floating onto his back with the SCW Tag Team Championship belt dangling from his right hand. He slowly opens his eyes to see James Huntington-Hawkes the third standing at the edge of the pool, holding his hand out toward his friend. Giani lifts his head up to look at James, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face, one that he had never seen before. Giani didn’t have the heart to turn it away.
Giani: Da*sputter* damn kids leavin’ their toys layin’ around here…
Giani turns over onto his back and then he paddles his way over to the edge. James helps him up the best he can, but it is the thought that mattered more, Giani shakes the water off of him as best he can, acknowledging that his watch is shot. He flings the wet belt over his shoulder as James studies Giani’s nonchalant expression.
JHHIII: That was an asshole thing you did the other day, Gi…
Giani nods his head slowly, trying his best to look down at the deck of the pool so to avoid completely owning up to the shameful thing he had done to his best friend. He takes a deep breath before finally looking up to see the hurt in James’s face. He exhales it very audibly before beckoning the question…
Giani: Then why did ya help me out just now?
