Our scene faded in to the apartment of Cody Carson. The AWA World Champion was currently seated on the couch, nursing a concussion and sporting a large bandage over the stitches in his forehead. Needless to say, he didn’t look overtly pleased. But hey, how would you feel if a man you counted as your brother suddenly beat the living hell out of you with a steel instrument? No… Not very well at all. So there he sat, brooding and contemplating the why’s and what if’s of Seth’s sudden attack when out of the bathroom came a woman who, quite possibly, was more confused about this than he was. Jalie Thomas was holding a bottle of Tylenol and clutching a bottle of Wild Turkey for dear life. Her eyes were bloodshot and she hadn’t appeared to have slept a bit since the revealing. She handed Cody the bottle of pills and sat down beside him. He tossed a few in his mouth and took the bottle of liquor from her to down them with. The two sat in silence for a moment before Cody finally broke it.

“I didn’t expect you to come back with me… Won’t he be pissed?” He asked. He’d refrained from saying Seth’s name for days now, as though admitting it would mean that what happened was actually real.

“He can fucking deal with it. I wasn’t letting you go back alone with a concussion and slip into a fucking coma or something.” Jalie said bitterly. She’d taken Seth’s betrayal of Cody as a betrayal to her as well. Although Cody was no longer in danger of the after effects of his concussion, she still refused to go home. It was as if nursing Cody’s wounds was a slap in the face to Seth… And it was almost more satisfactory to her than doing it in person. Cody put his arm around her and she leaned into him. Seth had been acting strangely for months… Abolishing Jalie’s initial thought that perhaps he was just jealous of her friendship with Cody. Nothing explained it. And asking him was out of the question due to the fact that she couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same room with him. At least for now. Her head was a mess, wondering what spurred him to turn on Carson. If it had only been the title, she could understand… But Seth had never been that kind of guy. He would have talked shit, challenged for it, sure… But to beat his best friend until he was laid out, motionless… That wasn’t normal. Even by Jalie’s standards. And that, was saying something. The silence was growing thick once more.

“I feel like this is my fault. Like I should have seen it coming.” Cody muttered. Jalie snorted.

“Yeah, well, I knew something was coming but never this. Don’t feel responsible, you didn’t do shit dude… It’s not your fault my husband has a screw loose. Or, several for that matter…”

Jalie got up from the couch, running her hands down the front of her worn and patched jeans. Cody was gazing at her ass, where a Pantera patch had come apart to give a glimpse of her little black shorts beneath. His reverie was interrupted when she went behind the bar counter and started rummaging in the fridge.

“You know, there is no fucking food in this house… Don’t you ever buy groceries?” Jalie asked, getting frustrated.

“Nah… I used to think it was beneath me, but now I’ve realized I’m just too lazy.” Cody admitted. "But I'm not hungry, so why would I buy groceries.  Didn't you tell me back in the day to live one day at a time... so I buy food one day at--" Cody was interrupted by an ice cube hitting him in the face.

“And since when do you listen to me? Unless of course I’m saying something you wanna hear…” Jalie reminded him. She leaned over the counter, popping another ice cube into her mouth. Her speech was slightly slurred when she spoke.

“Sho, joo wanna get the hell outta here?” She asked, biting down on the ice and making Cody cringe.

Cody sighed and pulled off his shirt. "Sure, just let me change." He walked into the bedroom and grabbed a black wife beater, pulling it on and shaking the hair out of his face. He grabbed his dog tags off the make shift dresser and walked out grabbing his two brand new quicksilver hats.  He tossed one to Jalie. "Heh, I walk into the mall wearing no hat and walk out with two… And a couple hundred bucks..."

“You dirty thief. I do believe I’m proud of you, Mister Carson.” She said, pulling the hat on and smiling. “C’mon, I do believe there are some houses west of here that are in dire need of a new paint job.” She grinned.

"Okay, but first we must go and buy the supplies." Cody smiled and pulled out a classically aged leather wallet.  He flipped it open and an ID fell out.  Jalie picked it up and looked at it. "Jason Hassleback.  Age 20..." She smiled at Carson. "Well, hello Mister Hassleback." Cody lunged at the card and Jalie pulled it back. Cody continued and then stopped. He pulled her back against the bar and grabbed the card. But she pushed her hand way out to the side and Carson was 'forced' in close to her, their faces almost touching.  Cody smirked. "Why Jalie, I didn't know you cared so much.”

He had her this time.  His nuts were protected with his other hand and for some strange reason she wasn't resisting.  Cody leaned in to kiss her, inching slowly closer. Jalie’s breathing quickened… Cody closed his eyes… And Jalie side-stepped. Her hand grasped his hair and smacked his head off the counter. Cody stumbled backward gripping his nose.

“What the fuck…?” He gasped.

Jalie was now laughing hysterically. “Oh my god dude… You seriously thought I was into that?” She asked, clutching her stomach. Cody scowled and adjusted his hat.

“Fine. Let’s go.” He growled. Jalie followed him out the door, still giggling.

./scene 2\. __awakening

The cameras returned with a shocking contrast to the tiny, dumpy apartment that belonged to Cody Carson. We were now inside a deluxe condo in Palm Springs, California. This was the dwelling of Jalie’s somewhat estranged sister, Carmen Dumas. She lived there with a male model by the single name of Fabrezio. What can I say… He’s a male model. It was a large two bedroom structure. The living room was sectioned off by a large bar counter from the kitchen, much like Cody’s apartment. The size, and the décor however, differed greatly. The condo was in all aspects a modern artists paradise. The living room housed a large plasma screen TV mounted on the wall. The furniture was all white leather, which disgusted Jalie to no end. For those of you unaware, while Jalie houses an unmatched loathing for the human race, she has a deep affection for all animals. Three doors at the back of the living room concealed the two bedrooms, with a luxurious bathroom in between. As Jalie waited just inside the front door, she felt more out of place than when the Jefferson’s first moved. Looking down, she made note that her boots had left big dirt marks on the otherwise spotless white carpet. She hastily tried to brush it away, with her shoe… Thus causing the problem to increase in size. The bedroom door directly ahead of her opened up and Carmen came walking into the living room. Her dress slacks and white cashmere sweater made it nearly impossible to believe she was Jalie’s flesh and blood. Jalie scratched her forehead absentmindedly. She, dressed in her usual low hanging jeans and a black Darkwell hoodie, felt somehow out-done. Well, more uncomfortable than anything else. Carmen sat down on the leather couch with a smile.

“Hey, sit down why don’t you. We should talk.”

“Heh, not on that thing we don’t. If I wanted to sit with an animal I’d go back to Cody’s.” Jalie quipped.

“Fair enough…” Carmen said, her eyes glittering darkly. “Still spending a lot of time with him, then?”

“Yes, I am. Is that a problem?” Jalie asked. She had a feeling where this was headed.

“No… I know I’ve been stupid about this whole thing… It’s just hard. I don’t understand what happened to Cody.” Carmen said sadly.

Jalie gave one of her signature sarcastic snorts. “Nothing happened to Cody. The only thing that changed was you. I love you Carmen, but… You’re a fucking bitch.” Jalie told her bluntly. Carmen looked shocked. She opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it.

“Okay, I deserved that… But how have I changed? I don’t feel any different…”

“Ever since you got into this modeling shit. You started making more money than anyone else… Or at least acting like you do. You dress different, you act superior… You live with a guy named after a fucking air freshener…”

“It’s Italian.” Carmen noted.

“Whatever. Point is, you never come over to mom and dad’s place anymore, because they embarrass you. I embarrass you. Cody embarrasses you. And it ain’t fair for you to want us to change with you… I mean shit Carmen, you may be rich, and hang out with famous people and shit but… At least us real fuckin’ latinos are happy.” Jalie pointed out.

“I’m happy…” Carmen said slowly.

“Pfft. When’s the last time you went out for drinks? Had a party where people ACTUALLY had fun? When’s the last time you got laid, for christs sake?!” Jalie demanded.

“I- I… I went out for cocktails with Fabre-”

Jalie cut her off. “A real drink, Carmen! Not fruit punch with a fucking umbrella. And Fabrezio does not count as a friend. He sleeps with curlers in his hair and thinks Michael Bolton is a lyrical genius.”

Carmen was now silent. She was contemplating Jalie’s words… And slowly, pieces of the puzzle were coming together. If Jalie was right, this could be why she’d felt so empty lately. Disconnected from everything that she was. She’d become so enveloped in the world of modeling that she hadn’t even realized how much she hated her life. However, taking advice from Jalie, a woman with a wide range of mental and emotional issues, was almost scarier than living a lie.

“Vuelto a donde usted pertenece, Carmen. Este no es usted, y usted lo sabe... La parada que finge ser algo usted no es hacer otras felices. Sea quién usted es realmente... Regrese a su familia. Te quiero, mi hermana. Pero odio lo que usted hace a usted mismo.” Jalie said softly. “I don’t know what to say, Lielee… I don’t want to fight with you, but I’ve worked so hard for this, you know? The condo, the money, and they’re talking about setting up a contract with Revlon…”

Jalie reached in the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a small white t-shirt that read ’latina’ across the front in black lettering. She tossed it to Carmen.

“I came here to return that to you. Even though I doubt you want it anymore.” Jalie muttered.

She slammed the door behind her, leaving Carmen standing alone. She lifted the shirt and caught the scent that reminded her of home… Booze, smoke, cheap perfume, and her mother’s cooking. Looking around at her staunch white, modern surroundings, she missed her family more than ever.

But, to be fully honest here, I do feel almost bad to come down on your too hard. Almost. Ah hell, I really don’t care… So long as you’re content, right? I suppose that’s all that matters, even if everyone IS laughing at you behind your back. Or, in your face, In my case. I mean damn, dude… Have you seen yourself lately? Why are you even here? You’re hardly ever around, and when you are it’s only to get your ass beat by either myself or Rick Young. That can’t do a whole hell of a lot for your self esteem, can it?

Ehh, whatever… Personally I don’t see much of a point in wasting my time here. You know how this is gonna go. Same as usual. I apologize if I’m being too honest for you, but I’m in no mood for niceties. So I’ll make this real simple.

Show up. Lay down. Let’s get this over with.

……….

(not that way, you fucking perv)