Why Can’t I Be Me?

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don’t own, I don’t have money, so there’s no need to sue. Vinnie Mac & WWFE own everything here *except* my plot :P

Time Line: Set after No Way Out 2002, but without the nWo & Steph is pregnant angles.

Note: This is from Chris Jericho’s perspective.

* * * * *

      Never play poker with the aPa. They cheat like hell. Unfortunately, I found out the hard way… and wound up losing most of my loose cash to them and there’s never an ATM around when you really need one.
      The show starts in thirty minutes, I’m hungry, and I have no idea who I’m fighting tonight. I’ve just got a really bad feeling about all of this. And why is there no one else around?
      I have got such a headache, but, you know, this table I’m resting my head on is nice and cool. Think I’ll stay here, wait and see if anyone realizes I’m missing.
      “Chris?”
      Shit. I really don’t want to raise my head, but I guess I will. “This better be good, Adam.”
      “You did know there’s a meeting going on right now, didn’t you?”
      And this day just keeps getting better. I put my head back down on the table.
      “Chris, they sent me to get you. Apparently, they want to start a new angle for you.”
      I wave him off. “Tell Vance I’m not coming.”
      “You have to.” Adam, go away.
      “So, the angle starts tonight?” I ask without looking up.
      “Obviously. Listen, I’m not going back to Vince without you in tow.”
      With every bit of sarcasm I can muster, I reply, “Pull up a chair then, you’re gonna be here a while.”
      So what does Adam do? He pulls up a chair and sits across from me! “May as well make myself comfortable,” he says.
      Why couldn’t Vinnie send the Hardyz to get me? Or even Jay? They would’ve gone back without me and lied for me. Not Adam, though. No, he’d rather stay here and annoy the hell out of me. Well, atleast Vinnie didn’t send Kirk.
      “Vince almost sent Kurt after you.” Adam, don’t read my thoughts, I don’t like it.
      “I really wanted to know that, thank you.”
      “What the hell’s the matter with you anyway? You look like shit.” So you noticed? He’s playing Captain Obvious.
      “I’ve had an extremely bad day.”
      “Ron said you were playing poker.”
      “Did he also mention I lost nearly $200 to them?” I finally look up.
      Adam looks relatively surprised, then shakes his head. “Chris, you’re an idiot.”
      I smirk at him. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Adam.”
      Now, there’s an eerie silence that’s really bothering me.
      Finally, he sighs. “Do you want me to go ask Vince to postpone your match?”
      I cannot believe I’m about to say this. ‘No, I’ll take the match, I’ll take the storyline, whatever. Just ask that whoever I’m fighting *not* bash in my head with a chair.”
      “There goes half the roster.”
      “Get out, Adam.”
      “Alright, fine. I’ll see you later.” He’s finally leaving! Good, now I can try to figure who my opponent is.

      About thirty minutes later, I finally decide to trudge back to my locker room.
      “You look like something that washed up on shore.”
      Oh, no, not her. Anybody but her. Here go my ears. I turn to face her. “Hi, Steph.” I give her my best fake grin.
      Stephanie smirks. “I take it you haven’t been informed of your new storyline yet… or maybe you have, judging from the way you look.”
      “The suspense is killing me. What’s the new story?” I ask, hoping she’ll leave me alone after she tortures me with her voice.
      “I’m sure you’re aware I’m not tagging around with Paul anymore,” she says.
      “Your point?”
      “Not only are you the most hated--and only Undisputed Champ--but now you’ll be accompanied by the companies most hated woman: me,” she says, then points at herself and smirks again.
      Why do I suddenly want to slam my head into the wall? “You have got to be kidding.”
      “No, I’m not. Sorry, Chris, but whether you like it or not, you’re going to be more hated than Paul with his sledgehammer and Steve with the Alliance put together!” she says.
      “And just, who hates me that much that they would do that to me?”
      Steph actually looks taken aback, then falls right into her Princess Persona. “Me.” She smiles and turns to leave. “Be ready in fifteen minutes.” She leaves.
      I can’t move, so I just stare after her. Why me? Why Y2J? I miss being my old self and humiliating her every show. Now, I gotta be friends with her!? There has to be something I can do about all this… I hope.

      The show came and went. It was mostly a blur to me, even my own match. I’ll have to remember to thank Adam later for the chair shot.
      Atleast I made it to my hotel room… somehow, I can’t really remember now. I swear, there isn’t an ice pack large enough, it’s practically over my entire head… well, okay, just down past my eyes.
      I can hear the door to the adjoining room open.
      “Chris?”
      Amy. Finally, someone normal.
      “Are you okay? You look like you got run over, picked up, and run over again,” she says.
      “Thanks for noticing,” I reply.
      “You’re welcome.” I can feel her sit on the bed. “This isn’t all just because you’re stuck with Stephanie now, is it?”
      “Partly,” I say, now kinda hoping she’ll go away.
      “What the hell did you do to piss off Vince, anyway?” Amy asks.
      “Wasn’t Vance’s idea.”
      “Then who… oh.’ She’s got it. “Stephanie’s idea?!”
      “You win the prize.” I remove the ice pack from my eyes. “You think she wants me?”
      She looks about ready to laugh. “Not when you look like this. There has to be an ulterior motive.”
      I sit up, careful not to take the ice pack away from my head. “I just can’t figure it out. I finally get the major title and I’m getting nothing else but shit. I think everybody hates me. I mean, why can’t I be Y2J *and* have the title? Why do I have to be Jericho, the egoholic and hang around Stephanie, who I spent atleast a good year humiliating? I have a pretty good idea of what the fans think, half of them want to stay with her! I just don’t buy this whole turn of events.”
      “Wish I could help you there, Chris.”
      “It’s okay, it’s my problem anyway. Guess I just needed someone to dump this one. Sorry.” I sigh, then add, “Why can’t I just go back to doing things like peeing in Regal’s tea?”
      Amy laughs at that one. “You’re pure class, Chris.”
      “Thanks, Amy, I really appreciate this.”
      “No problem. I’ll see you later and, hopefully, you’ll be looking more like your old self,” she says, getting up.
      I actually smile. “I hope so, too.”

      The next morning, I’m actually awake before 8am (see what passing out before midnight can do for you). I’ve managed to mill about doing the usual morning stuff without looking in the mirror. Tell you the truth, I’m kinda afraid of what I might see, but I suck it up and go into the bathroom again.
      I lean on the sink and stare at the reflection. Well, there’s a nice, big bruise on the side of my face from Adam’s *slightly* mistimed chair shot. Atleast I don’t look run over anymore.
      I notice something else, though. Just four months ago, I remember looking… happier. I turn away, I’m disgusting myself. I cannot keep up the egoholic, “living legend” bit. It’s got to go… and *shudder* Stephanie can go with it.
      Off camera, she’s not really that bad to be around, it’s just… she always seems to be hiding something.
      *knock, knock, knock* “Who the hell…?” I go and answer the door. Well, speak of the devil.
      “My goodness, you’re up early,” she comments, smirking.
      “Whadaya want, Stephanie?” I ask, sounding as irritated as humanly possible.
      She ignores my tone and produces some papers. “Script for the next show.”
      “Yay,” I say, with non-existent enthusiasm.
      This time, she looks at me weird. “Someone seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
      I was fine until you showed up, you trashbag ho. I bite back the thought and just shrug.
      “Anyway,” she shoves the papers into my hands, “it’s going to be a *very* eventful show.”
      “How so?” I ask, knowing she must have some Ace up her sleeve.
      “Read and you’ll find out,” Steph gives me her patented ‘Princess Smirk’. “I’ll see you later.” She leaves, closing the door after her.
      I sigh and look down at the script in my hands for tonight’s SmackDown taping. I flip it open as I head for the table and look up my page numbers.
      “Holy shit!” I exclaim, surprised. I’ve got about five pages of script while everyone else has about one. I’ve never gotten more than three. What the hell is she trying to do, kill me? For all she knows, I could have a concussion from last night. I grin at that thought. It would be an easy way out of tonight… except *she’s* already seen me, so I doubt that’ll work.
      “Lessee, insult The Rock, insult the audience,” I frown, “kiss up to Stephanie *shudder*, insult Trips, insult Austin… oh, I’m going to be so dead.” I run a hand over my face. “I’ll be beaten to a pulp, then probably get jumped by some members of the crowd after the show…”
      “That bad?”
      I look up and see Amy standing in the doorway. “Yes,” I reply.
      “I could tell,” She says, “since you were talking to yourself.” She gives me a grin.
      “Have you seen tonight’s script?” I ask.
      “Not yet. I don’t think I’ll be on tonight,” she says, so I toss the script across the table and she picks it up. “Five pages!?”
      “You cannot tell me that Stephanie doesn’t have it in for me,” I say. “What did I ever do to her… er, for real, that is?”
      “I don’t know, but you’ll be lucky to get out of tonight’s taping alive with atleast Rock, Triple H, and Austin gunning for you.”
      She slides the script back to me and sits down across from me. “Do you wanna share our locker room?”
      I shake my head. “No can do. I’ve gotta room with the Princess now.” I pause. “Do I look like I’m gonna be sick, because I feel like I’m gonna be sick after saying that. Or rather, don’t answer that.”
      “You’ll survive, Chris, I know you will,” she says.
      “Thanks, Amy.”
      “No problem,” She gets up. “I gotta get going. You know where to find me.” She heads for the door.
      “Bye,” I say and she waves as she closes the door.
      I look down at the script again. I may not be able to get out of tonight, but maybe I can think up something to get myself our of *this* storyline.