Chapter 10
I was so happy to have gotten back to work so that there wouldn’t be any time left to think about Jeff and me—and what’s actually happening between us. But there are times that I couldn’t avoid him at all. One night in Greenwich, I had a brainstorm. I’m just gonna find someone else to tell Jeff the schedule of his match. So I looked for anyone—anyone at all—to do the job, as long as it’s not me. I felt I wasn’t ready to deal with everything that’s happening.
And after what I’ve done, I don’t think I could face him again.
I did get someone else to do it. Whew, I sighed with relief.
I saw Matt later in the evening. “Hey, Matt,” I said, relieved that Jeff wasn’t around.
“Hey, I thought you were away for the day. I didn’t see you,” he answered.
“Oh, I had a meeting with someone,” I lied airily. Matt asked me whether I’d seen Jeff.
I was just about to answer when I heard a voice from behind. “Yeah?”
I didn’t have to turn around to know that it was him. But I couldn’t let Matt know that something happened between us. I turned around and gave him a small smile. It was so hard for me to even do. “Hey,” I said somberly.
He nodded in my direction. “Ann,” he said formally, as if we’re only mere acquaintances. It suddenly felt like a knife that went through my heart when he addressed me as if he didn’t know me at all. But I remembered that it was for the best. Yet still…
The next three weeks was agony. At least for me. Jeff sure didn’t give any hint about what he felt—either he really got over it that fast or he’s good at concealing his true feelings. I didn’t have time to think about it since I have my feelings to consider. To distract myself from the pain that was still fresh, I worked myself practically to the death. I go home almost early in the morning and only get a few hours’ sleep—three to be precise. At first, I felt triumphant that Jeff doesn’t come and occupy my thoughts anymore, but, as the weeks passed by, I felt my body begging for rest.
But like the determined show-runner that I am, I continued putting my job as the first priority in my life before anything else. Calls and meetings took up most of my days and I barely had time to eat. One morning, I woke up and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes—I looked awful. But there was no time to fuss about it, so I just applied some foundation to cover the bags in my eyes. I only managed to conceal half of it.
I got to my job and started a new day again. I was just taking a short rest when Lita came along. “Hey,” she said, plopping down next to me on the tour bus steps.
“Hey, Amy,” I greeted back, calling her by her real name.
“You look tired,” she observed. I smiled at her half-heartedly. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “I guess maybe this job’s kinda taking its toll on me,” I replied, knowing at least that it’s half-true.
“You’re great at what you do, but, I think you’ve been working a little too hard lately. What’s up?” she asked.
I felt like I wanted to tell her everything that’s been wrong all these weeks, but I couldn’t. So I just said, “Love problems.” I smiled ruefully. She nodded knowingly.
“I see. You wanna talk about it?”
“I’d rather not. I still have to sort my feelings out,” I replied. She nodded.
“If you need somebody to talk to, I’m always here to be a listening ear,” Amy said gently, getting up. “I gotta go work out. See you around?” I nodded and she walked away.
Later that night, I was the show-runner. There was havoc in the back room as I worked in a rush to get everything and everyone in place before the show officially started. Everything sailed smoothly for me—until I had to go to Jeff’s dressing room to tell him it would be his turn soon after the table handicap match of Kurt Angle against the Dudleys. I walked with increasing dread to his dressing room and the guard let me pass through. I stepped in and called out his name. “Jeff? You here?”
He came out wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair dripping wet. I felt the air rush out of my lungs and I couldn’t breathe for half a second. I wanted to hit myself on the head for still letting myself be affected by him—physically and emotionally. But I kept my cool and managed to say, “You’re up next after Angle,” I told him shortly. He nodded. Before I turned around and left, I could have sworn there was a painful look in his eyes that flashed for a second. I wondered if that was real pain or, maybe I just wanted him to suffer like me.
The wrestlers in the final match—which is usually the main event—already knew their cue to come in after Jeff’s match so I just sat at the back and relaxed, watching the match from a small TV. What I didn’t expect was that he would jump eight feet and miss his target, resulting in his uncalled-for injury. He never came around and had to be brought away on a real stretcher all the way to the ambulance at the back. Matt had come to the ring and accompanied his little brother. I felt so shocked and guilty that I just had to go with Matt.
I ran to catch up with them and got on the ambulance with Matt. “I don’t care what you say, but I’m coming with Matt,” I snapped at the paramedic. “Jeff’s a close friend of mine.”
Two hours later, I was walking back and forth at the waiting room. I was anxious, apprehensive, guilty, and angry. I knew this wrestling business was risky, but I had never known how much until now. Please, let Jeff be OK, I prayed silently. Matt was sitting down on the bench, his head in his palms. Poor Matt, he already has other worries and this only made it worse, I thought with a pang of sympathy. After what seemed like eternity, the doctor finally came out.
Chapter 11
Chapter 9