His shoulder ached like a rotting tooth. The pain killers did little to relieve the massive discomfort he was now feeling. And he was beginning to wish he had listened to Vince and skipped the party.

But pride had prevented him from going back to his hotel room. He had no desire to satisfy the little minds and petty jealousies of those who were secretly overjoyed that he was going to be out of action for the foreseeable future.

And he knew that a no show would speak volumes about his ability to take things like a man.

So he stood there, left arm hanging limply at his side, a bottle of water clasped in his right hand. Though truthfully, a large glass of something amber and preferably aged for 12 years would have been much more satisfying.

He scanned the room silently, carefully eyeing the small groups scattered about the enclosed area. A psychologist would have had a field day analyzing the scene. The Smackdown boys were huddled in small cliquish bunches. They almost seemed to be casting furtive glances over their shoulders. Wondering if the RAW guys were watching and checking to see who Vince was giving the most attention to. Across the garishly lit space the RAW guys were also herded together. But they seemed far more comfortable. Almost as though it was their party and they were simply tolerating the "B" list guests.

For a moment, Randy found himself enjoying the fact that he was on the outside looking in. He was under no pressure to like..or be liked.

And that was fine by him.

He was injured. And not just in a way that would require a couple of days rest. He was looking at 6 months on the shelf. An eternity in this business and the kiss of death to some . People skirted around him as they made their way around the room. Some nodding silently, others keeping their eyes averted. Almost afraid that any acknowledgment of him would transfer his bad luck their way.

But he didn't care. His smoke colored eyes were now busy searching for one figure. The other reason beside his damnable pride that he had even set foot into this room in the first place. And when he finally saw him, the twinges in his shoulder became secondary to the beating of his heart.

He was surrounded by the usual flock of people who gravitated to him. Christian and Edge were busy laughing at some unheard joke while Tyson hung on the fringes of the intimate circle, hoping, more than likely, to be included at some point.

Randy knew if he walked over, three of the four men would look at him with disdain and do there best to ignore him. But it was the fourth man who mattered. And Randy knew Chris would never react that way.

Randy had never heard him utter a negative word about anyone. And God knows he probably had a list a mile long of people he could have verbally ripped to shreds. But Chris wasn't like that. He accepted people as he found them, not how other's portrayed them. It was one of the reasons Randy felt so drawn to him. That, and the fact that he was breathtakingly beautiful.

Even from across the room, Randy could see how easily his smile lit up the space around him. It was like a beacon. A light drawing him through the fog and into a safe harbor. Steeling himself against the cold indifference he knew he'd have tolerate, Randy took the first tentative steps in Chris' direction.

But he hadn't taken more than three steps, when he froze. Unaware he was even doing it, he shook his head in disbelief. It simply couldn't be. But he knew his eyes weren't deceiving him. Making his way through the crowd was the one man he feared. The one man he knew was capable of destroying any chance he had at happiness.

It angered Randy that he was even in the same room. After all, he didn't even ork for the company any more. But there he was anyway. Working his way slowly through the crowd. Smiling his best movie star smile, patting people on the back and accepting all the greetings being called his way, like a prince deigning to mingle with his subjects.

The bottle Randy had been holding slipped to the floor, spilling the last if it's contents as his fist clenched reflexively. He knew exactly where the man was headed and all he could stood was stand by mutely and watch it happen.

He moved with simple ease into the group and they parted almost instinctively to let him in. He smiled at all of them and draped a casual arm around Chris' shoulder.

His Chris.

In a last grasp at fleeting hope, Randy thought it might just be a friendly gesture. Then Chris turned his head to look at the man next to him and every longing Randy had ever had was dashed.

Only a blind man could have missed the heat that passed between them. And it wasn't just simple desire. There was a connection there that completely shut out the rest of the world. With one glance they went from simply greeting one another to silently planning a passion filled night.

Randy suddenly realized that his chest was aching. The breath he had been holding seeped from his burning lungs in a long ragged hiss. And without thinking he began to move again. There really was no point in hanging around any longer.

Instead of walking to his original destination, he bypassed the group and headed for the door.

"Hey....Randy...you ok?"

But he couldn't even bring himself to turn and answer the man. The one person in the world who seemed to give a damn about him.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

Let him think what everyone else did. That he was nothing more than a cold hearted, self centered prick.

It wasn't like the truth mattered anyway.



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