FicWad

Three months have passed since Mark had surprised me on tour. Since then we've finished the Dead to the World tour and remixed 'Beautiful People' to be used for Smackdown. Mark was able to talk everyone in Developement and Creative into writing e into a storyline.

"Need me to sit on your suitcase so you can get it zipped?" Brian asks from the doorway of my room, scaring me half to death.

I shake my head 'no' and start taking my bags to the living room. I turn around to make my way back for the rest of my bags, only to see Brian carrying them for me. "Can't wait to get rid of me?" I ask half-heartedly. Brian simply pulls me into a tight hug, and buries his face in my hair.

"Twiggy! Taker's here!" We hear Ginger yell from the kitchen, followed by the sound of a car door.

Brian sighs deeply into my hair and squeezes me tighter. We hear Mark's heavy footsteps and then him clearing his throat quietly, slightly confused. Brian pulls away from me quickly, but I don't let go right away. "Remember, I told you to call me, if you need to, about anything, anytime." I mumble into his chest, and squeeze him one last time before turning to Mark.

Mark stands akwardly looking around the living room and rubbing the back of his neck. "Are all these yours, Kitten?" he asks after I grin at him and start to pick up my bags. "Put those down, we'll get them..." Mark trails off, carrying two bags out to the car.

"Holy SHIT! And here I thought the other one was big!" Pogo exclaims jumping out of his chair, while Glen comes in and grabs the rest of my bags. "Psst, why's he wearing a mask?" Pogo whispers not so quietly to me.

"Kayfabe and scars." Glen growls as he walks back to the car.

Seeing the rest of the guys confusion I explain. "That's Glen, Mark's half-brother. He wrestles as Kane, Undertaker's brother. Kayfabe is a sort of line, from when people didn't know that everything is scripted, that wrestlers don't cross. So even though people know that the wrestlers are friends and everything, masked wrestlers don't usually unmask in public. Glen was also in a fire when he was young and he has extensive scarring on his face that he covers with it."

"You almost ready Jeord? Vince wants to tell you how you're going to be worked into the show." Mark says leaning into the room. "And little brother's getting hungry... again."

"I heard that!" Glen yells from the car.

"What!? You got super sonic hearin' in yer one workin' ear now?" Mark barks over his shoulder.

"No, you just talk too loud old man." Glen yells back, causing mark to growl low in his throat.

"OooK, apparently it's time for me to go. You sure you guys don't want to come to my debut?" I ask quietly looking up at my band through my hair.

"We'd love to go but we don't want to be in the way or anything." Ginger speaks up for everyone.

"Aw hell, ya'll won't be in the way. We have our own locker room, and Jeordie won't have any live segments tonight. Just come to the back of the arena around six and ask for Michael Hickenbottom or Paul Levesque and they'll take care of everything." Mark says with a wave of his hand and heads out to the car.

After making a Wendy's stop for Glen we arrive at the arena only an hour late. Mark rushes me into Vince's office while Glen takes care of the luggage.

"Mr. White? Vince McMahan. How are you doing today?" Vince asks.

"Uh, fine. Can I make one request?" I reply nervously.

"Alright..." Vince says with a raised eyebrow, and shooting a look in Mark's direction.

"Please, please call me Twiggy or Jeordie. I'm too weird to be called a 'Mr.'." I say quietly.

Vince lets out a hearty laugh. "Well you'll fit in perfectly around here..."

Vince explains how they were starting an angle where they were going to reveal his illegitimate son, me, and then have me help out the Brothers of Destruction.

Having gotten all the business out of the way Mark takes me to catering so he can introduce me to Dwayne 'Rocky' Johnson the first guy I'm going to work with. We sit down and Mark and Rocky start talking shop so I take a look around the room.

At one table is a group of beautiful women Laughing and passing around what looks to be a photo album or scrapbook. Another table had a group of younger guys, around my age, talking and occasionally cracking jokes about eachother. The next table had a bald guy and two blondes, one wearing a had. The blonde without the hat and the bald guy were laughing at the one in the hat as he yelled about 'sammiches'.

"So Twiggy, this anything like being a rockstar?" Rocky asks, pulling me int the converstaion.

"Mmmm...let's see...no half-naked groupies, no drugs, no alcohol, no slashers, no screaming Manson, no fire, no protestors. So, no this is nothing like it. This feels like a big family, really warm, ya know?" I answer with a smile, eyeballing the food on the buffet.

"Woah, woah, woah, wooooah now. Start from the top. The Rock wants to know more." Rocky says in character. "But seriously, what the heck are you talking about?" he finishes looking worried.

"Well, there's always groupies, and the groupies usually bring drugs and alcohol. There's also a group of fans unique to us that will either carve our names into their skin, or have us carve our names for them. Manson is always screaming at someone, usually Pogo. Manson's a bit of a pyro too, so he sets stuff on fire. And there are always religious groups trying to 'save' the souls of our fans and sing Jesus songs at us. They're actually pretty funny." I explain with a giggle, as Mark brings me a plate of food.

Rocky arches his famous eyebrow and looks at Mark worriedly. Mark simply shrugs his shoulders and sits down. This is also the exact moment that I realize everyone had heard me describe a typical day on tour with us.

"And here ya'll were worried about him not being able to handle it. He's like baby Hardy on cocaine." Mark says to the room, as they laugh thinking it's a joke.

"Literally." Glen mutters as he sits beside me.

"Hey! I've been clean since the end of the tour!" I exclaim smacking his arm after ever word. This causes catering to go deathly silent again.

"He's joking. Right?" Rocky asks even more freaked out.

"Nah, probably not." Mark says around a mouthfull of food, and I shake my head 'no'.