"We cannot be sure of having something to live for unless we are willing to die for it." - Che Guevara

"Jessie?"

For the second time in this conversation, I had caught myself nodding off. This time, Anna must have caught it too, as she looks at me with an annoyed look on her face. I shake my head, hoping to snap myself out of this vicious cycle of drifting in and out of consciousness. Very much to little avail, as while I see her lips moving, all I can hear is a soft pitched mumble. Not much unlike her normal speaking voice, but...

"Jessie!"

She slaps me hard on the thigh, jolting me awake, and sending my heart into hyper drive. A strange, half gasp half scream escapes my mouth before I can bring a hand up to silence it. I can feel my heart pounding in my throat, reaching out and taking her hand in mine as I take deep breaths in a rather futile attempt at calming myself. Yeah, I'm awake now.

"What?"

What was once my grip on her hand soon switched roles, as I felt her thumb press down on my wrist. An attempt to pull back was thwarted by her, unusually tight grip. She pulls on my arm, dragging my entire body closer to hers, before my stomach crashes into the side of the table that she's seated across from me at. Fucking Christ, Anna! I'm awake!

"Jessie, you're-"

Dismissively, I place my index finger to her lips. I know what she's trying to say, and it's not true in the slightest. Frustrated, she crosses her arms and turns her body away from mine. Standing up, she walks around the edge of the table, stopping when she gets close to me. Leaning in close, she whispers into my ear before I have a chance to shut her up.

"You're regressing, have you taken your medicine?"

Jesus Anna, I don't need someone babysitting me, I can't help but think that as she kisses me on the cheek before walking off, out of my sight. After a few seconds, she steps back into my peripheral vision, walking into the bedroom. The backache that I've been nursing for the last few days begins to flare up at that sight, knowing that I can't protest without revealing that something's wrong. Why, oh why haven't I bought a bigger bed with the money I've made from the XWF yet? Oh right, I can't really use much of the money I've earned without alerting her that something suspicious is up.

New question; why don't I just fucking tell her?

Because I'm stupid, I reason with myself. I'd rather sleep on a couch and get the shit kicked out of me for a living, so I can then hide most of the money I make, because as far as my girlfriend knows, I still work at a fucking call center. Sometimes, I wonder how I manage to make it through the day without getting myself in all kinds of trou-

Oh wait, I don't.

Pushing the chair back far enough so my legs don't hit the top of the table, I stand up, making sure to push the chair back in after stepping out of the way. I turn toward the kitchen, flipping on the light switch to aid me in my search. Stepping over the awkwardly placed threshold that extended from where the counter ends to the wall, I turn to look at what's still on said counter. Just as I was expecting, there sat a solid white colored prescription bottle. The prescription on the front of read that it was for, ugh, Jessica Diaz.

To ease my aching mind over this matter, I reach out and wrap my fingers around the top of the bottle. It should be empty by now, I think as I lift it up off of the counter. I give the bottle a shake, and hear the sound of pills moving around inside of the container.

Oh, fuck; the only thought that crosses my mind as I open the bottle.


I open my eyes to the unplanned existence of visible light in the room, laying down on the couch with no recollection of the events of the night after I opened the bottle. An occurrence that would be terrifying, were it not so common. Sitting up, I'm greeted by something else that's quite unexpected.

"Finally! Look who's back in the land of the living!"

Sitting in the chair I remember being at last night, is Wilson Holmes, my fucking landlord. Leaning back in the chair, and propping his feet up on the table, he flashes a shit eating grin that makes me want to shove one of those feet right down his throat. Something tells me that he'll end up doing that himself, knowing him.

"Yeah, yeah. What do you want?"

Good God, the smug bastard is savoring every second of this. He keeps his eyes fixed on me as I get off the couch and walk over to him. What I wouldn't give to see him fall on his-

"Now, you of all people should know just why I'm here."

Okay, now I'm a little concerned. I try to think back to the time that's lapsed between what I last remember and waking up a few moments ago. All I can remember is nothing. Just blackness, and a bunch of unintelligible babbling. Wait, what day is it? The 14th! Oh, that motherfucker...

I reach in my pocket and pull out a wad of money. His eyes widen at the sight of the wad, while I try to count through it to pull out the payment. After a few seconds, he begins to laugh loudly, seemingly putting two and two together. Wait, how did we get one of those twos?

"I really didn't think it was true, but God dammit, it is."

"What's true?"

Once more, he laughs aloud. Five more seconds of this, and I might go crazy. Well, crazier than I already am...

"I mean, when I flipped through channels and found it, I almost didn't believe it. Hell, I didn't believe it until I saw you with all that money..."

Oh good god please be a joke. All of the muscles in my body tense up at the thought of him even coming close to figuring it out, even though it seems pretty damn obvious that he got whole puzzle done. He can sense the anxiousness in my body language and begins to laugh again, thinking that would be able to make me calm down.

"What? You can be a professional wrestler, but can't stand being referred to as such? I think you may be in the wrong career field, young lady."

I take a deep breath, the weight shifting itself off of my shoulders as the words leave his mouth. The struggle of keeping up the facade took much more effort than it would've had I just been honest from the start, I think as I feel all of the stress related to the secret wash away.

"So, hate to pry into the personal lives of you and Anna, but does she know about it?"

Reluctantly, I shake my head no. I probably come across like an idiot, keeping something like that from her, when there's a pretty good chance that I'll end up hospitalized at the hands of my new found profession. Wait a second, I have health insurance through the XWF, right? I really hope I do.

Taking the money I had sorted out for the rent right out of my hand, he stands up and walks out of the apartment, laughing that unbearable laugh of his. Conveniently enough, right as my cell phone begins to vibrate in my pocket.

Pulling the phone out of my pocket, the name of the caller in my phone is "Fucking Bitch." Perfect, just what I need to deal with right now. I press the green button on the phone, and press it to my ear.

"Jessica?"

"Jessie, Sayors. Don't go all formal on me now."

Yeah, Steve Sayors has my phone number. I begin to regret even thinking about giving to him when he starts to speak again.

"Sorry! I was wondering if you had scheduled and interview to talk about your match on Monday, and if you hadn't, if you'd like to have an interview with me?"

Part of me wants to laugh at him and hang up the phone, but he's right. I do have a match on Monday, and it wouldn't hurt to talk about it. I feel a tad unnerved about him calling me Jessica though. He's already known me as Jessie, so why would he...?

Oh no.

"I'd hate to, but I really have no choice, do I? Pencil me in for the next opening you have."

He starts to say something after that, but instead I hang up the phone and slide it back into my pocket. Yeah, there's definitely something wrong with the happenings of the past few hours.