So in the grand scheme of things, I, Jason Donald Helms, am what most people would call, a bit of a douchebag. No, I hold my hands up and admit it. I’m kind of an asshole, to be perfectly honest. I mean, I’m not proud of the fact… well, actually who am I kidding, I am proud of it, but what I mean is that it isn’t something to be proud of. At least society probably doesn’t think so anyway. But I mean, wouldn’t life be far duller if we were all the fucking same? Maybe not if everybody was just an asshole, I imagine that would get kind of chaotic or even a little problematic, but then again maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe we’d all just find a way to get on because we’d all understand why other people were the way they were? I dunno, I don’t claim to be a fucking philosopher, do I? Though for all I know, those guys could have been annoying pricks too, so maybe I have something in common with them instead of generally having no idea what the fuck they were talking about.
I’ve lost the thread, haven’t I? Okay, let’s start again…
What I’m trying to say is that I’ve not always been a good person. And while I don’t exactly go out of my way to be an ass to people unless they deserve it these days, like it’s not as if I have to make the douchiest decision at every opportunity just to maintain a reputation or whatever, I’m definitely not going to be the top of Santa’s nice list every year. Basically, I won’t be getting a lump of coal in my stocking, but I doubt I’d get much more than say, a tangerine and an apple. No Xbox or iPhone waiting for me to unwrap on christmas morn if that fat fuck was real.
But in a lot of ways, I’m kind of proud of myself too. I mean, let’s be honest, I’ve kinda had a shit year this year, all things considered! And I don’t want to go on and on about it again, given I’ve done that a fair bit recently anyway, but it’s not been great, let’s put it that way. So when I say I’m proud of myself, I guess I’m mostly just proud of the fact that I’ve not let myself slip back into old habits, if that makes sense? There’s being a bit of a dick in a lovable kind of way, and then there’s being a raging thundercunt in general and believe me, the latter doesn’t endear you to anybody! I should know, I was one for quite some time!
Ask Konrad, he’ll tell you what I mean. Or Bree I guess, if she can bring herself to say the word…
But despite the bullshit, despite everything that’s been going on, from the crap run of form, to the headaches and everything else, I’d say I did fucking great at not reverting to type and lashing out at the world to solve my own problems, and if you want to claim otherwise you can go and suck a fuck, because I’ve not got time for your nonsense, okay? The real drawback for me was basically the fact that it made it difficult for me to have fun, mostly. And why bother with life if you’re not gonna make the most of enjoying it, huh? There’s too many depressing fucks in this business already, without me walking around like someone just took a dump on my doorstep before pouring sugar in my car’s gas tank. Then again, those migraines getting rarer and rarer definitely fucking helped, because believe me, it’s difficult to be your usual happy go lucky self when it feels like the entire Blue Man Group are renting your cranium as rehearsal space and are taking the opportunity to wear in a new set of pipes! I wish I knew what the fuck was going on with those, how Gio had fucking done it, but at least whatever he had done was starting to wear off now, and that made it easier to get over the funk I was in, even if I wasn’t completely out of the woods yet.
Or maybe I was?
That’s the thing, really… I mean, I never knew I was going to get one, they just kinda of hit out of nowhere and one minute I’m fine and the next I’m curled up in the fetal position, wishing I was unconscious just to escape the feeling that my head was being split open with a blunt saw blade like a weird recreation of that scene from the end of Saw, but it’s my skull instead of an ankle. To be honest, if it was an ankle, I’d have cut the fucking thing off by now… but can’t do that with your head, bro. Not unless you want to start acting as brainless as say, Bree Lancaster, anyway…
But as I started to come around to being myself again, I guess I started to realise how bored I was getting on the road, which didn’t exactly help with my moods. Which is why I was glad that Niamh had jumped at the chance to take up my offer after Amy convinced me it was a good idea to see if she wanted to start travelling the tour schedule with me and get some experience as my valet. I didn’t want to rush things though, even when she accepted without taking more than a couple seconds to think about it; I told her it was something that would start slow, because I didn’t want to overwhelm her. She had a habit of beating herself up pretty harshly at the best of times, so I wanted to avoid piling on by giving her something to actually kick herself about if she made a mistake that cost me a match or something. I needed to get clearance from the office anyway, so for the first couple shows after the RTG break, she travelled with me but on my dime, hanging out backstage, getting to know people and basically getting to see what life in the business was actually like. And you know… it’s funny, but it actually did help with how shitty I felt over the course of those weeks.
I mean, I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, but thursday through saturday, once Dave, Lucas and Amy went, I was kind of alone and only had myself for company. Which isn’t as fun as it sounds despite the fact that I’m clearly a fucking legend!
But having Niamh around meant I wasn’t left to my own devices for the first two shows back, and she even helped me out with the Karen stuff last week, which was sweet because normally people try and talk me out of being a dick to others, not encourage me to do it. And it went well, I think! Karen Matthews wasn’t impressed, which was definitely the outcome I was looking for, and all things concerned, a great time was had by all! Expect for Karen I guess, but fuck it, she can speak to the manager, I’m only the assistant manager, it’s above my remit. But now here we are in Portland, and Sasha pulled me aside before the show started to tell me that everything was approved by the board and I got to take the contract to Niamh to sign and fuck, you should have seen her face light up. It was like Greg Cherry seeing cake! The money wasn’t great, which didn’t really come as any great shock as I knew how much Nia got for travelling with me when she was still on the road… but she felt better about it when she realised travel and accommodation were included, and I told her we also got an allowance for food while on the road too, which I planned to cover myself. My only proviso was that I wanted us to get Apocalypse out of the way first…
“But I signed my contract,” Niamh said to me as we stood just shy of the gorilla position, waiting for the main event; Dave stood a couple feet away talking to Lucas, the three of us about to head out to the ring in a few minutes so that Dave and me could face off against Owen Cruze and Aaron Blackbourne, and I’d just told Niamh about how I wanted her to wait until after the pay per view to start coming out to the ring with me. “So why do I have to wait another few weeks before I can actually do the job you offered me, coach?”
“First up, let’s drop the coach stuff alright?” I told her, feeling like it was too awkward for her to keep that up now we technically worked for the same company. “And mostly because this is a tag match and Lucas is out there already… but also because I want to work on things a little more before you come out there with me.”
“So you don’t think I can handle it yet, basically?” She said, pouting and actually looking annoyed with me.
“Did I say that?” I asked, looking over at Dave who gave me a nod before turning back to say something to Lucas. “But you’ve not even walked out to the ring yet. And you‘ve not had chance to think about clothes or anything either…”
“So now I look like shit, too?” Niamh asked me, and I nearly fell for it before I spotted the wry smile on her face that told me she was winding me up. I chose to flip her the bird instead of replying. “Okay, I get it. I don’t have nice clothes to make you look good and if I go ass over elbow on my way to the ring I’ll never live it down from the fans and you’ll look like an idiot too... But before the show on Sunday, we have to take some time to practice, while the arena’s empty!”
I gave her a nod. I couldn’t see a problem with that. “Fair enough. And we can think about taking you shopping to find some stuff you like, too. Should have time this weekend before showtime on Sunday.”
“Now that sounds like my idea of fun,” she said with a grin.
“Really?” I asked, actually kind of surprised. “I mean, don’t get me wrong doll, we’re not exactly that close, but I rarely see you wearing anything but jeans, band shirts and flannel… I wasn’t really being serious about the clothing thing, I just want to make sure you’re ready before jumping in at the deep end.” I told her. I didn’t want her thinking that she wasn’t good enough for the gig or anything like that, you know? The last thing she needed was me knocking her confidence and giving her an inferiority complex before she’d even made her live show debut, wasn’t it?
But she shook her head. “No, you’re right.” she told me. “If I’m walking out there with you every week after Apocalypse, I need to look the part. I want to look good for you, coa-um… Jason?” she finished somewhat lamely, but to be honest, the slip up was kind of by the by, I was already weirded out by her telling me she wanted to look good for my sake… but I brushed the comment off in my usually way; making fun of it.
“You’re kidding, right?” I told her, chuckling. “Look at me, I wear gimmicky t-shirts and have hair like a poodle… do you really think you’re going to do anything but improve what people see when we walk out to the ring?”
“I dunno, I happen to like the curls,” Niamh told me, smirking. “I always did think Napoleon Dynamite was cool as hell…” she added, winking.
“Oh, burn!” David said as he made his way over with Lucas. “You know, you should get some t-shirts made up with the whole Vote For Pedro thing on them, but have Vote For Jason instead. Starm complaining for the end of year shot early, you may be able to convince people to take pity on you…” he added as I rolled my eyes, but Niamh laughed at his jokes at my expense. Guess the whole thing about wanting to look good for me didn’t extend to not laughing at my brothers dumb jokes, huh?
“Or maybe I can get a dress with big puffy sleeves that are real big, to wear to the ring when I start valeting for him?” Niamh suggested and David snapped his fingers before pointing at her and nodding. What the fuck was this, huh? I make a joke about myself, a little self-deprecating humour to get past the awkwardness of what she’d said and instead I’m the target of everyone?
“Well someone’s gonna have to win it back when Glory beats you for it on Sunday, aren’t they?” I told him, winking as animatedly as I could to really rub it in. I knew it wouldn’t particularly bother him that I took the shot, but I had to throw something at him. The bastard wasn’t just the better wrestler but the fuck was better looking than me too. It’s a good job I’m funnier or I’d fucking give up…
“Nice to know you believe in me bro,” Dave told me as one of the production crew shouted over to us from by gorilla to tell us we were nearly up. “But just because she kicked your ass a few weeks back doesn’t mean I’m gonna let her do the same…”
“Whatever bro, you know you only won the flame because I didn’t enter,” I told him, smirking and he laughed at that one… which I think I should have actually been insulted by, because I’m pretty sure he was laughing at the statement rather than the joke, but it didn’t hit me at the time and I actually let him get away with it.
“We should get a move on, bruv…” Lucas said to Dave before turning to me. “Must be nice getting to experience the main event, mate. Perks of big brother being the world champion, some of his name value rubbing off on you, huh?” he added, turning to me.
Niamh laughed again, which only made Lucas and David smirk even more as I flipped Lucas off. “Go fuck yourself,” I told him before turning to Dave. “And you can watch him do it, you pair of douchebag’s… go on, I’ll be one minute,” I told them and both nodded before heading for the gorilla position, chuckling to themselves as I turned back to Niamh. “Alright, curtain time… you can watch on the monitor at gorilla or head back to the locker room, it’s up to you sweetheart. Wish me luck,” I said, mostly just because it’s the thing you’re supposed to do really.
So you can imagine the surprise when she leant up and kissed me on the cheek. “Good luck,” she told me, looking up at me before I just laughed and headed off after my brother and Lucas. I put the whole thing out of my mind, it was game time now and as much as I knew that we were actually just going to have a good honest match where someone wasn’t trying to kill me - something I couldn’t say about every match I’ve had these last few months - it didn’t lessen the need I harbored to actually grab the victory. I mean, I don’t have a problem with the Cruze kid, or his friend Blackbourne, but at the same time, being on the losing side so many times since returning, it was starting to grind on me and I felt like I needed this just to prove to myself I could still do it.
“Ready?” Dave asked as I stepped up next to him and I nodded. He held a fist out, and Lucas did the same.
“As I’ll ever be,” I told them before throwing my own fist into the little huddle of handsomeness… that’s not really the name for whatever that was, but why the fuck would I not call it that given our tag name, huh? We didn’t have chance to say anything else, as we got the thumbs up that it was time and David took a breath before stepping towards the curtain, leaving me and Lucas to follow him. I cast a glance over my shoulder before stepping through the curtain and Niamh shot me a thumbs up. I nodded back to her before disappearing through the curtain; another show in another city, another chance to basically try and prove to myself that I was good enough to do this and that my pre-injury run wasn’t just some fluke. So no pressure Jase, no pressure at all bro. Fuck.
And in three seconds, so fucking much for that, huh? Okay, so I’m not angry. No really, I’m not. Bit annoyed, sure. Irked I cost Dave another match, especially on the go-home for Apocalypse, but I’m not angry as such that we lost. But it fucking figures that it’d be me that let us down, doesn’t it?! I had to be the one that Blackbourne caught! And it didn’t have to be that way either, if I’d just hit that first or even the second Back From The Dead on that creative little fuck! But no, fair play to Owen and Aaron, they had us scouted and they gave as good as we did… but shit, another loss bro, another fucking loss for Jason Helms in a recent run of them. This was meant to be an opportunity to try and prove that I was just in a dry spell and that I could come back from it. “We nearly had it,” I moaned, propping up the bar in the hotel we were all booked into for the night, onto my fourth or fifth vodka. Whiskey makes you frisky, but vodka makes you forget. Not sure I should drink enough to forget this fucking run of bad results though, I may not make the flight to Vancouver. I had asked Amy if she wanted to join me, but given her issues with Alcohol, I guess the idea of a bunch of people all getting drunk around her was a little too much and she told me she’d take a rain check. Fair enough. She went back to her own room anyway, as I told her I couldn’t guarantee what state I’d be in when I finally made it back to mine and she decided it was easier to leave me to sleep it off if I did get wasted. Probably a smart move, because I was happy to drink, believe me.
“It happens mate,” Lucas told me, sipping at his own drink. Dave and Lucas had joined Niamh and me at the bar, though Dave had pointed out it wouldn’t be a late one for him. He and Regan were flying back to Cali the following morning to get a day or two at home before making the trip to Vancouver. I’d already made the decision to head straight to Canada instead of travelling back south again, so it wasn’t as big a problem for me. I assumed Lucas would be on the jet with Dave and Regan, so chances are he wasn’t going to be down to drink for that long either. I can’t even get a good drinking team together, what the fuck man?!
“Seems to be happening to me an awful lot, lately...” I said, trying to pretend that it was only griping rather than a serious issue, but I’m not sure I was convincing anyone with the look Lucas and Dave shared with one another.
“Picking fights with Christy may not be the best way to try and turn that around, mate…” Lucas told me, laughing. “Ask your brother what happens when she’s pissed off, he’ll tell you all about why it might not be a good idea to piss her off…”
“You mean Karen, right?” I asked, and Lucas smirked. “See, even you think it’s funny! And you were married to her!”
“Wait, you were married to Christy Matthews?” Niamh asked, looking shocked. I keep forgetting that she isn’t quite as in on all the backstory of the people I hang around with. It feels like she learns something new every day, just by being around me.
“A life time ago love, yeah…” Lucas said, and he wasn’t lying with that one. How many different relationships has he had since? At least two of em made him and Dave eskimo brothers, I know that. But it was like a lifetime ago when you think about the amount of things that were different these days than when Lucas was married to Christy. Hell, back then this conversation would never be happening; Lucas Knight and David Helms in a bar together without it being a fight? Never would have happened.
“Lot of water under the bridge since then,” David chimed in, no doubt thinking along the lines that I was. “And he’s probably right bro, as much fun as you seemed to have last week blowing off some steam and having some fun, Christy isn’t the best person to poke with a pointy stick if you want my opinion…”
“It wasn’t a pointy stick, it was a photoshopped picture of her with the Karen haircut,” I corrected him, the alcohol I’d been drinking apparently making me a pedantic cunt instead of one of the many different types of cunt that I’ve been known to act like over the years. “And fuck it, I’m fed up bro, I want to have some fun again… and it doesn’t start and end with Karen either. There’s also Karen! And Karen. Karen, Karen and Karen too! I’ve got a list!”
“I think I can probably imagine a few names on that list bruv,” Lucas said with a laugh.
“I just told you. All Karen’s!” I laughed, winking at him and he chuckled to himself, shaking his head before taking a drink of his rum. “At least that’s what they’ll be presented as anyway… if they happen to share the surnames of a few of our colleagues, well that’s just unfortunate I guess.”
“On your head be it bro, that’s all I’m saying…” David told me, chuckling as I drained my vodka and barely flinched at this point. My throat was pretty much numb by now, so hooray for not having to taste the shit I was paying ten dollars a glass for. I should have just picked up a bottle form the seven eleven on our way back to the hotel, it would have been much cheaper.
I shrugged at Dave and shot him a big toothy angelic grin before ordering another round of drinks. “This is my last one bro,” Dave told me, pussying out earlier than I expected. “I want to actually relax with Regs for a bit before we go to sleep.”
“Pussy,” I said as the bartender walked over and I ordered another round for everyone. Niamh blinked heavily at her drink in front of her that she hadn’t even touched; she was doing well keeping up, but I was starting to think that maybe I should tell her she didn’t have to do so when she picked up the glass and slammed it in one. Maybe we’ll make a drinker out of her yet! “Alright, so I guess we should have a toast,” I said, slurring a little now the liquor was doing it’s thing. I don’t think anyone noticed though. “First, to that asshole over there, my big brother and our world champion! He’s to a successful defence on Sunday hopefully, because fuck the Best In The World actually having something to back her claim up,” I told him, winking before turning to Lucas. “And to Lucas… who will hopefully someday actually decide he’s going to get back in the ring again after telling the world he was gonna do so at the Hall of Fame ceremony!” I added, saluting him with my raised glass before turning to Niamh. “And to my new valet, Niamh, who is going to kick ass out there once I actually let her go out to the ring… to us!” I said, before downing the drink in one.
“Shouldn’t one of us have raised a toast to you?” Niamh asked me, looking a little uncertain, but I just shrugged.
“Nah, I’m a douche who can’t win matches, I don’t deserve it,” I said with a sheepish grin that Lucas and David both laughed at. “Barkeep, another vodka please!” I shouted out and the guy working the bar grabbed the bottle to fill my glass again.
“No more for me thanks bro,” David told the bartender as he noticed David drain his drink too. “You can charge the tab to my room though. Two oh four. Make sure he gives you a decent tip when he decides he’s had enough though…” he added, pointing at me.
“Think I’ll call it a night as well mate, I told Trin I’d call her before I crashed,” Lucas added, standing up and taking his wallet out, tossing a few bills on the bar. “Stick that in your pocket bruv, if dickhead here’s paying for the tab,” he told the barman, and the guy thanked him before doing exactly that.
“Lightweights,” I teased, smirking, but Lucas rolled his eyes and David simply shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll see you both in Vancouver then, I guess…”
“Have a good one mate,” Lucas said, patting me on the shoulder as he walked towards me. “And don’t let him drink too much love, or they’ll be charging him for late checkout tomorrow,” he added to Niamh, who just smiled, but she looked unsure of whether she’d be able to actually stop me if I insisted on getting drunk.
“Night guys,” Dave said, and he and Lucas headed off, leaving me and my new valet to prop the bar up alone.
Looking around, we actually were propping the bar up alone too, there wasn’t a single other person in there, which was odd given I was fairly sure that we probably weren’t the only people from SCW staying there, but whatever, the guy would get a decent tip when we were done, and that’s all that was actually important. Tip your bartenders guys, don’t be that kind of douchebag. “Then there were two!” I said, chuckling.
“You think maybe we should call it a night too?” Niamh suggested, but I shook my head emphatically, ignoring the fact that my hair bounced around all over the place as I did. I probably looked like a wet fucking dog, shaking himself dry! “I mean, we do have a flight to catch tomorrow, and we don’t want to miss it…”
“We don’t fly until the afternoon, we’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “But if you want to take a break, you don’t have to keep up with me sweetheart, it’s fine… probably not going to be up too much longer anyway…”
“I never said I can’t keep up, Helms!” she protested and grabbed her glass, slamming it in one again, though she screwed up her face and made a blegh sound right after. Respect for drinking straight whiskey though, can’t fault her there. “So can I ask you something?” she said as she placed her glass down and I signalled the barman for a refill for us both.
“Fire away,” I told her, shrugging. Wasn’t my place to say she could or couldn’t ask questions. Didn’t mean I had to answer, depending on what it was she asked, but she could ask nonetheless.
“The jokes at your own expense, the self-deprecation stuff… how much of it is legit?” she asked, catching me off guard if I’m honest. “Because it’s not just tonight, you do it quite a lot… but it’s one extreme to the other, as well. One minute you’re your own biggest fan and then the next you’re tearing yourself a new one and I never know which is the real you…”
The more I thought about it, the less sure of what I wanted to say. I mean, how the fuck do you answer that? No, I don’t hate myself, I love myself. Yeah, real slick, that doesn’t make you sound like a douche at all. Alternatively, if I tell her sure, I think I’m a waste of space right now, then I’m just making myself sound pathetic and that’s hardly any better. I grabbed my glass and held it up, but didn’t drink straight away as I thought about how I wanted to answer. “Truth be told… I mean, I guess I’m no different to most people. A little from column a and a little from column b depending on how I’m feeling that day…”
“So it’s sort of real,” she said, frowning. “Or it isn’t but it’s kinda your humour?”
“Both,” I told her, shrugging. “Honestly Niamh, we all have those days where we don’t like ourselves or we judge ourselves a little more harshly than we should. Being famous doesn’t change that, in fact it probably makes it worse, because you’ve got public perception of you on top of everything else…”
“Like you care what people think of you,” the blonde said with a laugh, as if she found the idea that I gave a crap hilarious, but don’t we all care on some level?
I mean I may not care as much as some people, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care at all. “If I didn’t care, would I do dumb shit that I know will make people laugh?” I asked, wondering if she’d considered things from the alternate viewpoint. “You think I do stuff because I don’t care what people think… but what if I do it because I know some people will get a kick out of it?”
The look on her face was a fucking picture bro, I’m telling you. Slap that shit on a t-shirt, it’ll sell! Because she looked so fucking confused, it would have made a fantastic meme! “So you do care what people think about you?!” she asked, amazed that that would be the case.
I shrugged. “Think about this ‘Karen’ stuff I’m doing at the minute,” I said to her, finishing my drink before trying to explain. “My bigger problem is with people who constantly blame the way the company is run for their problems or failures or whatever. You get so many assholes, people like Christy, but others too like Sienna etcetera, who always want to blame Sasha for holding them back or refusing to give them what they believe they earn…”
“Yeah?” she asked, wondering where I was going with this.
“Well, what was stopping me walking out last week and simply cutting a promo on how I think Christy needs to act like an adult and take responsibility for her own shit?” I asked, pointing out what the underlying message was and why I didn’t just bring it up. “Instead of going out there and just speaking my mind… I had the picture, I had the assistant manager t-shirt, I had a whole building laughing at the idea of SCW having a gaggle of Karen’s that need to stop being so entitled… because I knew the visuals and the jokes would entertain people…”
Her eyes went wide as she realised what I was getting at, like it suddenly clicked and the bigger picture finally made sense to her. “Shit…” was all she said at first, as I placed my glass down and motioned for another drink. “I didn’t even think about it that way,” she added as the barman re-filled my glass. “But it makes sense…”
“And to be fair, it’s a bit of a double edged sword in a way,” I said as I slid my glass towards myself again but didn’t pick it straight up. I was already buzzed and knew that if I had too many more I’d end up in a state I didn’t want to be in without having access to some seriously good coffee the following day. “Because on the one hand, it’s a lot more fun to find new and amusing ways to poke fun at people while drilling home your message but at the same time, people don’t exactly take you seriously like they would if it was someone like Dave saying it without the theatrics…”
“Must be difficult being the brother of David Helms,” she blurted out before realising what she was saying and she even covered her mouth right after, but it was kinda too late by that point.
Luckily I laughed it off. “Yeah, you can say that…” I said, chuckling before I grabbed my glass and saw another one away. “He’s a great guy, it’s just sometimes difficult not being him too, you know?”
“Well, I think there’s nothing wrong with you being you, for what it’s worth!” Niamh told me, grabbing her glass and lifting it up. “And while you said you don’t deserve a toast like the rest of us, you’re getting one anyway. Here’s to Jason, the defeater of Karen’s, the king of the trolls. To Coach Jason!” she said before throwing back the glass in one and I joined in, draining my own glass and slamming it down on the bar.
“To Joach Cason! I mean… fuck!” I said, laughing at myself. Niamh laughed even harder before ordering another round.
And despite saying I probably wouldn’t be there much longer, before I even knew what was happening, the bartender was kicking us out because he wanted to close up for the night! To be fair, by this point we were both sat at a table instead, and we’d ended up in drunk singing territory by this point, which was never a good place to be! But you better believe we sang our happy asses out of that bar, leaving plenty of tip money on the table before we were ushered out into the foyer to make our way to the elevators. “SHOOOOW ME THE WAY TO GO HOOOOOOOME…” we both sang, before bursting into fits of laughter at the way the staff on reception, and I pushed a finger over Niamh’s lips.. “Shhhhhhhhh” I told her, before more laughter spilled out of my mouth and she laughed, nearly resulting in her fucking biting me by accident, which only made us both laugh even more. “W-which four?” I asked as we stepped into the elevator and I turned to press the button before coming unstuck.
“Four?” she asked, but I nodded and went to press the button for the fourth floor. “Waiiiiit… I’m on floor five, why did you hit four?”
“You just told me to!” I complained, rolling my eyes before hitting the button for five.
“Noooooo, you said four… you asked which four. I’m on floor five, silly!” the blonde said before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“Five’s a dumb floor anyway!” I told her, frowning as I folded my arms across my chest, pouting. “Ha, you’re only on five, I’m on seven. Fuck you, loser!” I added for good measure… not that it made a single fucking difference because neither of us were in the good suites! SCW dime didn’t push for the good shit, you had to pay for that yourself.
“Jokes on you, I’ll be in bed first, I don’t have to go an extra two floors!” she told me, blowing me a raspberry and gloating.
“You would be anyway, even if we were on the same floor,” I told her, laughing in her face. “I’m making sure you get to your room before going to mine. Lot of creeps in SCW. Gotta watch out for em. Blake Mason may try and marry you if I leave you unaccompanied!” I told her with a huge grin on my face. Well, I mean it wasn’t that much of a fucking stretch was it? I think he’s asked most women on the planet to marry him at this point, we had to keep the rest of them safe, they’re an endangered species!
“I’m not touching that one,” Niamh said, shaking her head as the elevator reached floor four and stopped, but i tapped the button for five either.
“I wouldn’t either, you don’t know where he’s been,” I agreed, laughing.
Niamh frowned at me for a minute before laughing. “Nooo, I mean I’m not saying anything,” she told me, shaking her head. “He was married to Coach Amy’s sister-in-law… I’m keeping my mouth shut!” she told me, miming zipping her mouth closed as the elevator reached the next floor and the doors opened, but because I wasn’t paying attention I practically spilled out of them as I was leaning on them at the time. I managed to somehow keep my balance though, as Niamh stepped out onto the hallway and started searching in her purse for her key. “It’s… in… here… somewhere,” she said, finally pulling her keycard out of her bag and holding it up like she’d found the Holy Grail or something. “Ummm… this way,” she said, pointing off down the hallway before heading in that direction and I stumbled along after her as she searched for her room.
“Isn’t it this one?” I said, stopping at a door as she carried on going down the hall, but she stopped and turned to look at me, puzzled for a second and then checked the keycard in her hand.
“Oh… yeah… d’oh!” she said, hitting herself in the forehead before screwing up her face in pain and she rubbed at her forehead for a minute before laughing. Walking over to the door, she unlocked it and pushed it open before turning to stand in the doorway. “Thanks for t-tonight, it’s… been fun…”
“Don’t get used to it, it’s not like this every weak…” I told her, waggling a finger at her. “Most weeks, it’s hotel, shower, bed ready for the next show the next night.”
“Hooray for pay per view week, am I right?!” she asked, holding up a hand and I echoed her statement before high fiving her, as we both giggled again.
“Alright, bed time,” I told her, grinning. She looked at me and nodded.
“Okay!” she said, and wiggled her eyebrows at me, but I just laughed. I leant in to kiss her on the cheek to say goodnight, and she offered me her cheek at first before turning her head at the last minute and instead, I was kissing her full on the lips, and her hand came up to touch my cheek at the same time. Instinct kind of took over at first, and as her lips parted the kiss deepend, before I took leave of my senses and pulled away.
I stared at her in frozen, wide eyed horror, wondering what the hell I’d just done. “Sorry, I uh… I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened!” I babbled, thinking about just turning and heading for the elevators again.
Niamh shook her head though, and reached out to grab my hand. “It’s okay… it was nice… I enjoyed it,” she told me, looking up at me with those big doe eyes of hers.
No Jason. Dumb move. Do not do this. “We can’t. It’s inappropriate; you’re a student at BlackOut and I’m your mentor…”
“Teccccchnically,” she started, bringing her other hand up to twirl her index finger around a lock of my ahir. “Technically, we’re colleagues now, so…”
“Nah sweetheart, we can’t,” I repeated. “Amy would lose her shit if she found out anything had happened with one of the students… it’s not worth the risk.”
“Amy isn’t here, is she?” she said, taking a step towards me, and I went to step back again, but she had hold of my hand and stopped me. “She’s upstairs somewhere, or downstairs somewhere… but I’m not, am I?” she reasoned, letting go of my hand as she grabbed me by the belt instead and before I even knew what was going on, she’d pulled me inside her room and slammed the door shut behind us. I went to protest again, to say it was a bad idea or a dumb move, but before I could speak, her mouth was pressed back against mine and her tongue entered my motuh as we started to make out, I was already lost to the drink and the lust of the moment way before she undid my belt and slid her hand down the front of my pants, her fingers wrapping around my already erect cock as she dragged me towards the bed. I’ve made some dumb fucking decisions in my life, some real zinggers… but while this was one of those so wrong it’s right type of deals, as clothes started coming off and we explored every ince of one another’s bodies… even drunk Jason knew that this was the dumbest thing I’d ever done. And no matter how great it felt as her lips wrapped around the tip of my dick a couple minutes later… there wasn’t a blowjob or a fuck in the world that would make up for what a stupid, unthinkable mistake I was making. And I didn’t care. Because in the moment… I wanted it every bit as much as she evidently did and fuck the consequences. Famous last words maybe… but what was life without making dumb fucking decisions anyway?
