She'd already dressed for her match, and she was feeling relieved that she wasn't sharing a locker room with all the divas.  Although she was friends with several of them, she didn't want them to see her like this - and she didn't want them to know what she was going through, anyway.

Amy closed her eyes as she thought about how furious her boyfriend must have been when he'd returned to their hotel room - whether sometime last night or that morning - to find her gone.  She knew he had to be furious and that he would take revenge for it.

The redhead's eyes gazed ahead at nothing far, far away as she feared competing in her match for the night.  A few minutes earlier, she'd discovered she would be teaming up with Edge to take on Christian and Ivory of the Alliance.  She wondered how in hell she was going to get through the match.  Although Adam Copeland, Jay Reso and Lisa Moretti were all friends of hers, she didn't want to have to face them.  Hell, it had taken all of the sheer will she possessed for her to go to Stacy's room for sanctuary the night before - but she felt she'd had no other choice.

"Are you going to be all right?" the tall blonde woman asked as she stepped away from the vanity mirror, a tube of lipstick in her right hand.  She eyed her friend with concern, dropping the cosmetic and coming to sit beside her.

Stacy placed one hand on Amy's as she peered into her face.  "Looks like we did a good job with the concealer," the leggy diva observed.  She knew the last thing the redhead wanted was for her bruises to show while she was expected out there for the intergender tag match.  The worst bruise, the gash on Amy's side, shouldn't prove to be a problem, but the one on her face had been quite noticeable - and in fact had darkened a bit since last night.

The redhead remained silent, noticing how the blonde diva's expression grew somewhat sadder at her lack of response to her question and comment.  But she didn't feel too badly about that, knowing that Stacy understood how she was feeling.

As Amy continued to watch the TV monitor in front of which she sat, she twisted her hands in her lap.  Although she adored wrestling, she didn't want to take part in the show tonight.  She was in no shape to compete - not physically or mentally.  And emotionally, she could see herself suddenly breaking down in the middle of the ring.  With the way she was feeling right now, she didn't need anyone hitting her or tossing her into the ropes or anything like that.

All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door, and both women looked up, the redhead cringing somewhat at the thought of who might be behind the other side.  Stacy looked into her face with concern for a beat before rising to her feet and walking over.

At another glance at her friend, she didn't dare open the door before finding out who was paying them a visit.

"Who is it?"

"It's Adam - I've got a match with Amy tonight!" came the reply.

Stacy let out a small sigh of relief at the identity of the visitor, then turned to glance at the redhead over her shoulder as she opened the door.

The tall handsome blond man, already dressed in his in-ring gear, peered past Stacy into the room.  "Hi...I was just wondering if she was ready - we're up next."  He caught sight of the high-flying redheaded diva and smiled warmly.  "Hey..."

Amy met his eyes almost bashfully, her head ducking somewhat.  "Hi..." she replied in a soft voice, unable to smile.  Her gaze shifted slightly down.

The Canadian frowned as a myriad of thoughts ran through his mind.  What was going on with this woman?  But instead of voicing any of his concerns, he turned to face Stacy, offering her a grin.  "Everything cool in here?" he asked.

"Um...yeah," the leggy blonde said.  "We're just getting ready for the show tonight."  Her gaze shifted somewhat, the smile on her face wavering a bit.

Adam instantly noticed the discomfort among the two women in the room.  Hell, how could he not?  It was absolutely palpable.  He recalled the strangeness of the previous night, when he'd caught Amy going into Stacy's room.  Again, he wondered what was going on and sensed that it wasn't anything good.

"Okay...Well, are you ready for our match?" the blond Canadian man asked as he shifted his gaze to the redhead.

Amy ran her hand through her long hair and sighed as she stood up.  Nodding, she met his eyes.  "Yeah...I guess I am."  She forced a smile for his benefit as she walked over to him.

Adam watched her intently as she stepped past him and Stacy and out into the hallway.  He couldn't help the concern that flooded him at her obvious lack of disinterest.

He followed her over to the curtain leading out to the arena, and they stood there in silence for a beat as the tall blond man studied her intently.  He tried to be as discreet as possible in his scrutiny, but it was difficult, given the fact that the redhead was standing right in front of him.

After a moment, he frowned at the way she kept her head down, arms crossed protectively over her chest.  "Hey," he said softly.  "Are you okay?"

Amy looked up at him reluctantly, something like surprise registering on her pretty face.  "Yeah...I'm...fine.  Yeah."

Adam cocked his head to one side as he continued to stare at her.  All of a sudden, he thought he detected something strange about her face.  A portion of her left cheek seemed to be slightly miscolored.  "Are you sure?" he asked softly, and, reaching out with his right hand, he allowed his fingertips to just brush her face.

The redhead shrank back at his gentle touch, ducking her head again, and the Canadian's concerned, confused frown deepened.  She seemed positively terrified, and he found that odd, as he'd never once done anything to scare or upset her in any way.  They'd been friends for the last year and some odd months, although they hadn't spent much time together as of late - but still, Adam had never given Amy any reason to fear him.

And then it occurred to him that maybe it wasn't him that she was afraid of - maybe it was just men in general...

They both missed the crystal blue eyes of the man watching them from several feet away, down the hall.  He stared at them for a moment, a gleam of fury in his eyes.  Then, after the two of them started making their way through the curtain to enter the arena, his expression still hard and cold, Chris Jericho turned and stalked back to his locker room.