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A deep blue, convertible Jaguar F-TYPE sped down the city streets of Los Angeles, it's hood down to allow the driver to enjoy both the warmth of the hot, California sun beating down on his already tanned skin, while the wind whipping across the vehicle due to its speed, gives a sense of cool comforts and a sense of entitled freedom. One would think with such a personal luxury such as this, the driver himself would be in much higher spirits, but alas, not so!
"You have got to be fucking joking!" Jamie Dean shouted into his head piece as he continued to drive while having a conversation over his cell. While driving while texting or driving one-handed while holding your phone is illegal, Jamie opted to use his ear piece to his cell so that he might continue his conversation, a much heated one by all obvious evidence, while he was en route to his destination.
On the other end of the line, was the Co-Owner of Sin City Wrestling, Christian Underwood. "No, actually I'm not 'fucking joking, Jamie. I'm actually very serious." Christian stated simply.
Jamie pulled up to a traffic light, all too used to being able to have a 'chat' such as this while driving and not feeling the need to divide his attention. He said, "Then would you mind passing around that doobie and share with the rest of us because you're obviously stoned if you..."
Christian sighed audibly over his end and stated simply, "Cute."
But Jamie continued on as if Christian hadn't even spoken, interrupting and talking right over him. "..If you think that I'm going to actually agree to team with that piece of... with that bastard!"
"Well actually if you want to be technical Jamie, it doesn't matter whether or not you agree with it." Christian answered in return, feeling no reason why he shouldn't assert his authority. He continued, "You're under contract to Sin City Wrestling to compete in whatever matches the bookers deem fit for a show. So bitch all you want but you're going to do it. Simple as that."
"Simple as... you're teaming me with the same god damn idiot that beat the hell out of my friend and then tried to blame the entire thing on Justin!" Jamie shouted, drawing stares from the car parked to his left. Jamie turned and frowned at the driver, shrugging his shoulder as if daring him to say something, anything. "He lays him out, gives him a god damn concussion, and now is threatening to sue if Justin doesn't apologize!? You're making me team with him!?"
"I don't imagine Jackson is any more thrilled about this situation than you are, Jamie." Christian reasoned.
"I'd be willing to place a bet on that!" Jamie contradicted. "He's probably getting off on the big joke! Who's bright idea was this, anyway?"
"Well, it was Mark's suggestion..."
"Oh. Of course." Jamie scoffed as the red light turned to green and he pressed his foot to the pedal, slamming on the gas and speeding down the street as if it were an every day thing. And hey, it's California -- so it is! "Why doesn't that surprise me Mark Ward is behind this?"
Christian asked, "And that is supposed to mean what, exactly?"
"Look. I haven't been around for as long as a lot of the other guys but I'm not exactly blind." Jamie said. "I know Sean Jackson is in that little group that Mark heads up, the International House of Pancakes or whatever cute little acronym that they want to call it."
"Actually they're called Hot Stuff International." Christian corrected. "Just H.S.I.."
"Oh. So they're not even smart enough to come up with an acronym for themselves." Jamie shook his head and the biting sarcasm of his words were all too evident. "Hell! Even the Hardins came up with R.O.A.R.. Cheesy as hell but they still managed."
"Look, I know it's not much consolation, but it is for a championship." Christian said in an effort to try and make peace. "That has to account for something."
"You're right. That's not much consolation." Jamie said. "I have no objections to tag teams providing I actually like the other guy, but I thought when I finally got a title shot it'd be for the Roulette title or..."
"Heavyweight?" Christian said. "Getting ahead of ourselves a little bit, aren't we?"
"Bullshit." Jamie said without a care that he was saying such things to one of the company's bosses. "I know for a fact you higher ups have mentioned my name a time or two, and the fact I already beat Sean Jackson, a former world champion in his own right, should have vaulted me right up there."
"We're not talking about you and a shot at singles gold, Jamie. We're..." Christian was cut off by the loud sound of the wind from the driving blowing over Jamie and his ear piece. "Christ it would be a lot easier to hear you if you'd put that top up!"
"It must be all the hot air you're blowing up my ass." Jamie said in response.
"For both our sakes I'm going to let that golden opportunity pass me right by." Christian stated, passing up thee chance for his very well known acidic tongue and sharp wit to make mincemeat out of that remark by Dean. "Instead I'm simply going to say the match is happening. I'm sorry for the situation you're in, but it is. It's been signed and announced."
"Bottom line?"
"Bottom line." Christian confirmed. "You do things our way, or you don't get paid."
"Well then we really don't have anything else to say, do we?"
"Well actually..." But before Christian could finish whatever he might have been thinking, Jamie reached over with a free hand and disconnected the call. He pulled the bud from his ear and tossed it into the passenger seat. Fuming, he pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex of his erstwhile friend that he shared with Amy Marshall, Misty and Gabriel Asar, Justin Halliwell.
Waiting in the parking lot, dressed in a bleached white t shirt and snug jeans, a smiling Justin approached the car, never minding the fact his otherwise handsome face was still recovering from the physical evidence of the attack by Sean Jackson. Justin walked around to the passenger's side and slipped inside. Saying nothing at first, Justin leaned over and Jamie needed no prodding as the two close friends and sometimes lovers locked lips in a deep kiss that left one another breathless momentarily.
Justin pulled back and he smiled, "Consider that my down payment."
Jamie sighed with a smile as he pulled the car back from its temporary parking space and turned into the street once again. "Christ." He said. "You're not going to start that again, are you?"
"Start what?" Justin replied in kind as he quickly fastened his seat belt and leaned back into the soft cushions of the car. "I haven't been allowed to work much since I got banged up, and you've been doing too damn much for me."
"Stop it." Jamie commanded without a hint of playfulness in his voice. "You'd do it for me, and you have." Jamie gave him a coy wink, then went on with what he was saying, "Besides, you've been working a little, and the guys have been giving you all sorts of pity attention. Surely you're not bitching about that?"
"Oh surely not!" Justin laughed. "But you know what I mean. The lawyer and doctors? Helping me with groceries when I couldn't work for the first week. Hell when I found out you snuck my satellite bill out of my apartment I about went ape shit. I don't like it when people..."
"Would you have done the same for me if I were the one hurt?" Jamie asked simply.
"Of course I would."
"Then shut up and just let me do it." Jamie said.
The two continued on down the streets of LA en route to Justin's doctor so that he might get a full release to return to work at AKBAR. A couple of minutes passed when Jamie got a devilish grin on his face, and that never spoke well for whatever it was that he was thinking.
Jamie piped up and said, "Although, if you're really insisting on paying me back, there's plenty of time between here and your doctor..." He waggled his eyebrows at Justin who simply laughed.
"Dude!" Justin chuckled. "It's broad daylight in LA and you're driving!"
"I know!" Jamie flashed him a wide grin and Justin could only smile. Smile and remove his gum as he slid down into his seat...
"Yeah, okay! I'm going to stop that right there! There's a fine line between a heart warming moment between two men, and raunchy Internet porn. Besides, Justin and I already posted a few of those personal videos to youporn. Or I did ... with Justin's permission!"
"I saw Twitter Sean, and I don't know what exactly you expect me to say or do. Kind of sudden, am I right? I mean, after everything you've been saying on Twitter and youtube and on Climax Control, all of a sudden you're apologizing to Justin when you were the one demanding he do the same? Either you have gold fever and really want these titles or ... well I don't have any other theories that I want to express this close to our match."
"I won't lie. I wanted out of this match the moment I heard about it. truth be told, I still do. To say Sean Jackson and I aren't buddy buddy would be the easiest way to phrase the situation between us. And putting us in a tag team title match against a high caliber combination like Despayre and Big B puts us at an even bigger disadvantage. Big B and Despayre haven't just been teaming together regularly the past few months, but they're also friends. God friends. That's kind of hard to ignore. Sort of like trying to ignore the fact you don't know what the hell to do to counter whatever goes through Despayre's mind, or looking the other way from acknowledging that Big B has the type of body you could give a tongue bath to for DAYS!"
"But try as I might, the match is going on as scheduled, whether or not Sean and I can trust one another or work things out. Sean, you hurt someone I care about. That doesn't just get forgiven with a simple apology, but I have never just tanked a match before, and I'm not going to start doing so now."
"Jamie Dean. SCW Tag Champion. I like the sound of that."</size></color>
