Post by Eden Morgan on Apr 26, 2013 2:03:54 GMT -5
What the hell just happened?
Eden Morgan moved behind Jet Somers as he made his way through the UGWC building out to the parking lot, her eyes on his back, but not really seeing him. Two uniformed police officers moved on either side of her, neither saying a word. No one said a word, at least not to her. People gave her wide-eyed looks, shocked glances, but no words were spoken. Or maybe she just didn’t hear them over the roar in her head. That could be it. She had, after all, gone from getting a three-count on Jet Somers to being in his custody… in a matter of minutes. Her head spun and she thought she was going to be sick… until Jet turned and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up even with him. He must have said something to her, because he fixed her with a look of supreme annoyance before waving the officers off and jerking her along with him out the doors to a waiting limo.
It was the sight of the limo that snapped her out of her stupor. Black limo. Like the one she had rode in with Reznik on the night she decided she would send a definitive message to Jet. A black limo like the one she had destroyed so viciously. A black limo like the one that had blown up in this very lot. Eden turns to glare at Jet and snatches her arm away from him, climbing into the limo and sliding to the far side. She crosses her arms and looks away from him as he slides in, calm and collected as usual, angry with his cool demeanor. She fumed. She seethed. Was he gloating?
Please, Flying Spaghetti Monster in the Sky, don’t let him be gloating or I’ll strangle him with a designer seat belt.
Jet clears his throat. Once. Twice. A third time. Eden finally turns to him, her eyes frosty.
“If you’re waiting for me to get you some water, I’m afraid you’ll choke to death first,” she manages a sweet smile, but it doesn’t her eyes.
Jet bites back a laugh, clearly pleased with himself.
“And here I was thinking I was so lucky that you were struck mute by this… fortuitous decision made on your behalf.” He relaxes in his seat, looking out the window for a moment.
Eden’s eyes narrow as she considers another act of violence on his person, then catches herself. No. The best way to get back at Jet Somers? Play his game, but play it better, and she had every confidence that she could. She smiles to herself, a satisfied smile and runs her fingers lingeringly over the leather of the seats.
“Hmm… very nice. Though, I have to say it’s not quite as nice your other limo. You know, the one you let Reznik and I borrow the other night? Such a shame, what happened to it.” Her hand stops moving as she sighs.
Jet stiffens in his seat momentarily and then relaxes, the smile on his face good-humored.
“Goad me all you like, Eden, I got what I wanted. What did you get?”
Eden fixes him with a dirty look.
“You know you won’t be mistreated while in my care, so you have no worries on that account.” Jet tugs at the collar of his shirt, loosening it as he watches the scenery go by.
Eden snorts and rolls her eyes.
“Well duh. You know what Cypress would do to you if you touched a hair on my pretty little head. That was a statement, not a question, by the way. Not to mention the other guys in the MC… you do know my brother’s the President of his own MC right? The Devil’s Most Wanted? Not that that would intimidate you. Not the big, bad Jet Somers. He makes his own rules. Of course there’s always the possibility that the Covenant could come back over this. I am technically Covenant royalty through Cypress. And then there’s Damarest and Zane.. I did just make an alliance there, though fat lot of good it did me tonight,” she trails off grumbling, more to herself than to him.
Jet doesn’t even acknowledge her words. She studies his profile for a moment, crossing her legs and finally speaking.
“So why do this at all then? Or are you that threatened by me? That must be it. How cheap a trick is that to take your opponent into some sort of feigned protective custody, especially when we all know that if anyone’s soul is “morally bankrupt” it’s yours? So you’re threatened by me. I have to say, I take that as a compliment, but I suppose you have a right. I mean, I did just beat you. You do realize that when that happens in a couple of weeks, that pretty little title is mine?” Eden sits back with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Jet fixes her with a bored look.
“I’m far from threatened by you, Eden. You got lucky tonight, and let’s face it, I won in the end. You’re in this for the battles. I’m in it for the war.” Jet turns back to the window.
Eden makes a show of mocking his words, her lips and face moving exaggeratedly with no sounds coming out. Silence fills the limo. Eden, not being one who can stand silence for long, is soon speaking again.
“So what are these terms? Am I to be held in a cell with a cup of stagnant water and stale bread for food?” She spies a thread poking out from the trim of the seats and starts plucking at it with a nail.
“Of course not. You are in my custody, which means you’ll be held in the PMN offices. In fact, there’s already a room that’s been prepared for you. I’m sure you’ll love it. You’ll have the run of the building and you’ll be allowed visitors and a phone, but you can’t leave unless you’re with me. That rule is concrete. Think of it as house arrest, but the PMN offices are your home.”
Eden rolls her eyes again, grumbling under her breath, but relieved this wouldn’t be the horror she had envisioned. Still, she had always resented being told what to do and Jet was really bad about trying to do that. Hey wait a minute…
“But the PMN Offices are in Atlanta!”
Jet doesn’t even bother looking at her, his tone still the same bored tone.
“You’re very astute, you know that?”
Eden stares at him, mouth agape, sitting up in her seat.
“But.. I can’t go to Atlanta! All my stuff is here and no one knows I’m leaving! You can’t just take me like this, I need to make preparations…” she trails off as Jet reaches over and covers her mouth with his hand, his look serious.
“We’re leaving now. You can get more “stuff”, and anyone who needs to know will find out soon enough. We’re already at the airport. No more arguments.” He removes his hand, before Eden, who sat shocked at his temerity, could commit some act of violence. As it was, her eyes shot daggers at his back as he exited the limo, holding the door open for her, the private plane awaiting them. Eden debates refusing to leave the limo, hesitating long enough to make Jet give her a questioning glance and then an “I-wish-you-would” smile. Grumbling again, she slides out of the car, deciding it’s better to get on the plane under own steam, rather than being unceremoniously dragged up the steps. Yep. Definitely better.
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The plane ride had been a relatively quiet one with Eden brooding and staring out the windows and Jet either on some sort of technological device or buried in a newspaper. She had been thankful for the time to think, and think she had. She had come to several conclusions, the ultimate one being this would be the worst decision Jet Somers had ever made. He would regret it, she promised herself that. They exit the plane, making their way to yet another limo, Jet holding onto Eden’s elbow again. She tries to jerk away in annoyance, but his grip tightens and she ceases her struggles. For the moment.
“How far is it to the offices?” she finally pulls away from him as they get into the limo, Jet straightening his suit jacket, allows her this small victory.
“Not far at all. Why? Eager to see your new home?”
Eden quickly looks up at Jet, one of her perfectly arched eyebrows rising over her crystalline gaze.
“So this isn’t to be a torture-fest. You’re trying to “save me.” I hate to tell you dear, I’m not Jez, and I can’t help but feel that this is some sort of misplaced attempt to save the sister you never could. If only you could have done this for her. Or to her.” Eden chuckles to herself, seeing Jet stiffen.
“You have some serious sister issues, dude. Like Game of Thrones type stuff.. Except without the incest. Cause eww.” Eden wrinkles her nose in distaste, dropping the topic of conversation. Jet turns enough to glare at her.
“It would behoove you to keep your mouth shut until we reach our destination.”
Eden starts to open her mouth and then, seeing his look, closes it, watching the scenery pass by the window. How to best get under Jet’s skin? Beat him at his own game. Suddenly a thought occurs to her and she gasps, her eyes flying open, a huge grin spreading on her face.
“Sooo…” she starts off and Jet leans his forehead against the cool window of the limo, closing his eyes.
“What now?” the question comes, almost tired, from him.
“Well, I was thinking… if I’m your ward, and you’re this rich guy who wears a suit during the day and battles “bad guys” at night… doesn’t that make you like Batman/Bruce Wayne and me like Robin/Dick Grayson? Except I‘m the cool one with all the black and you.. Well you‘re the Dick.” Eden winks at Jet just as the car stops in front of their destination. The door opens and Eden stares out, not noticing Jet staring a hole through her. PMN Offices. AKA her prison.
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“And this… is your room.” Jet had lead her all through the winding maze of floors and offices, departments and just blank, empty space. It was a little overwhelming, so she had remained quiet, and now… here they were. Her cell. May as well call it what it was. One cell in a big prison. Jet moves in front of her to unlock the door and then steps to the side, obviously wanting to see her face as she opens it. He flourishes a hand, indicating his desire that she do the honors. Eden cuts her eyes at him and reaches out, grasping the handle of the door and turning it…
Pink. Pink everywhere. Like someone took a fire hose filled with Pepto Bismol and completely coated the walls. And the dresser. And the closets. In fact, everything in the room was some shade of pink and… wait a minute, was the bed made to look like a castle? In the center of the room sat a bed with four posts spiraling up into the high ceiling. Sheer, wafting, PINK draperies hung effortlessly as a canopy over the bubblegum pink little girl royalty-style bed with a pink and white lace comforter perfectly folded on top. There was even a giant fluffy pillow that said “Princess”. Eden closes her eyes, hiding the look of revulsion quickly so as not to give Jet the pleasure. Instead she forces a huge grin on her face, jumping up and down and clapping excitedly.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!! How did you know??? I love it! It’s sooo perfect. Well, almost, I just need to add a few of my touches and then…” she looks up at Jet, pinching his cheek and smiling sweetly.
“You won’t mind getting a few things for me to make my stay more comfortable, will you?” her voice practically drips sugar. Like diabetic levels.
Jet returns her smile with one of his own.
“Why certainly. Whatever you like, you have but to let me know.”
Eden narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. Exactly why was he being so accommodating now? She decides to test him.
“Oh, and my cell phone. I’m free to use it anytime, to call anyone?”
The smile on his face doesn’t falter.
“But of course. Call whomever you should so desire. Just remember, you can’t leave here without me.”
He seems to watch her a bit more closely at those last words, starting to say something and changing his mind. He moves away from the door and then turns back to her.
“You have an intercom system set up in your room. It speaks directly into one of my main offices. Let me know what items you require and you’ll have them shortly. Oh, and Eden? There’s a present for you on the bed. I know you’ll get a lot of use out of it.” He was already walking away, his voice disappearing down the hall from which they had come. Eden makes a face at his back and closes the door, cringing as the color and “delicacy” of the room threaten to overwhelm her. Turning, she spies the package on the bed and moves cautiously across the room, poking it with a finger and stepping back quickly. No explosions. Super.
The wrapping paper is… you guessed it… pink. Pink with white polka dots to be exact. Eden makes a gagging noise and tears into the package, revealing a box. She pries the box open and just stares. Surrounded by various shades of pink tissue paper is a book. A pretty pink princess book with Eden’s name embroidered on it and bedazzled within an inch of its life. Eden stares at it blankly and picks it up, fighting the urge to throw it across the room, and thumbs through the pages. A diary. The prick had gotten her a diary. She grins. He had a sense of humor after all.
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Dear Diary,
First day in my new “home.” I decided I wanted to show Jet just how much I appreciate this wonderful gesture of his in a bid to save my soul, morally bankrupt as it is, so I thought it would be a great idea to have some Jet Somers fan club shirts made up. I’m sure he’ll love them, and I can’t wait to get them in!! I called Cypress and Jez, Cypress is coming tomorrow to check on me. Hopefully if the shirts are done by then, he can take a few home with him. Yay
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Dear Diary,
Yesterday was pretty boring and uneventful :/ I called A-Dog to see what he could set up for me in terms of some technologies and turns out Devil’s Most Wanted MC has a charter down here in Atlanta! Who knew my big brother could be so enterprising? I already have my own separate Wi-Fi set up, surround sound with big screen tv and of course an XBOX (product placement here), thanks to the local MC‘s technical genius, Glasses. Oh, and it was so thoughtful of him, it seems when Jet fed my intercom into his offices, it’s not very reliable. He’s only rarely in those particular offices. I wonder why he did that? Oh well, Glasses was only too happy to reroute that for me. Now my intercom goes out to the entire building. Isn’t that great? I think so. I just have to wait for the right moment to surprise Jet with it. I’m sure he’ll love it.
Dear Diary,
I didn’t expect to be writing again so soon, but OMG the shirts came in early! It’s such a shame that there was a misprint on them, but they’re still pretty effective. Jet didn’t seem as thrilled as I expected him to be. I’m not sure why that is. Ah well. I bribed one of his underlings into finding me a t-shirt cannon. Folks on the street, look out! Eden Morgan merchandise promoting Jet Somers is coming your way! Aaaannnnd I hear Cypress’ voice raised. Jet must have annoyed him. Not sure how he did that, he really is such an agreeable person.
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“Cypress!” Eden comes running into the room and jumps on her brother, hugging him tight. He returns the hug and sets her down, holding her back and looking her over as Jet looks on from his seated position at his desk, the same bored expression on his face.
“Well you look healthy. No complaints then?” Cypress grins conspiringly at her. Eden grins back.
“Not a one. Jet’s such a wonderful host. In fact, he’s so wonderful, I had these nifty shirts made up for him.” She stretches the fitted black t-shirt out from her body, showing it off proudly. Jet’s bored look changes to more of a glower as Cypress reads the writing and bursts into laughter. Eden playfully swats at him.
“Don’t laugh, it’s such a shame the print company misread what I asked them to print on the shirt. Who knew one little word could make such a difference?” Eden looks over at Jet with an innocent look in her gaze. He stretches his jaw, but says nothing.
Cypress continues to chuckle. “So am I to assume those weren’t supposed to say ‘Jet Somers is shit’?” He watches his sister, gleefully. Eden makes a show of rolling her eyes.
“Of course not, dear brother. I would never do something like that, not to Jet who has done so much for my degenerate self. No, they were supposed to say “Jet Somers is THE shit.” It’s so hard to find good help these days. Such a shame, but I refuse to be wasteful. I know Jet would agree. So I’ve been firing t-shirts out my window with a t-shirt cannon all morning to pedestrians. I think these shirts will be a hit, despite the grammatical error!” She smiles sweetly at Jet who just sighs. Cypress does nothing to hide his grin.
“Well then. It looks like you’re in capable hands. I’ll come back and check on you again. You know how to reach me if you need me. I’ll stay close.” He says the last part seriously, watching her closely. Eden nods. Cypress turns to Jet.
“I feel like I should wish you good luck in this. You have no idea what you‘ve gotten yourself into.”
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Dear Diary,
I talked one of the employees into getting me some walkie talkies. I have 2 sets, one set up in one of Pierce’s offices and one in Jet’s. And now… I wait…
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Jet Somers walked into his office, closing the door behind himself. The girl could give him a headache like no other. He rubbed his temples and moved closer to the chair that seemed to beckon him from across the room… and that’s when he saw the walkie talkie. With a note. “Roger, roger” … and another of those cute little hearts. He was really starting to hate those. Jet sighs and debates whether to toss the offending object out the window or to just play along. Better to just play along. The girl had a wicked imagination and came up with more ways to bedevil him in the past few days than most people had in a lifetime. And she did it all so… innocently. She had to be evil. Had to be. Still… he lifts the walkie talkie and presses the button.
“Who is this?” As if he didn’t know.
And waits. Silence.
Finally a voice. Eden’s voice, but much gruffer, like she’s altered it somehow. Then the words hit him and he rolls his eyes, leaning back to look up at the ceiling.
“Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench. The pain in the ass.”
Silence.
“Eden, what are you playing at?”
Silence, then Eden’s voice but in the same gruff-ish manner.
“Yippee-ki-yay, mother lover.”
Jet starts pacing his office in exasperation, pressing the button again.
“I’m not playing your games, Eden.”
This time, it’s her voice coming back over the waves.
“Yes you are, Jet. You have to be German Snape. Be the German Snape I know you can be.”
In response, Jet throws the walkie talkie out the window, feeling an immense satisfaction as it sails through the air. Getting no response from him, Eden tosses hers in a trash can as she passes through the various departments, wandering aimlessly, making faces at every security camera she passes. She pulls another out of her back pocket with a grin, raising it to her lips.
“Travis’ turn…”
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Dear Diary,
So the walkie talkie thing didn’t work as well as I had hoped. I’m not entirely sure what Jet did with his, but I’m fairly certain Travis smashed his to pieces with a heavy, blunt object. And I was only doing him a favor and reminding him he needed to get some training in, he was looking a little sloppy in the ring. All that living as an entertainment professional and not enough as a sports professional. It takes its toll. Seriously. I’d like to face him in the peak of condition, his PRIME, which it could be argued he is a bit past… but I suppose that’s a moot point. The man does NOT take criticism well. And I thought Jet was bad. Jeez. So Jet’s supposed to appear on TPT … I think I’ll help them out with theme music. I just know they’ll enjoy my choices.
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Dear Diary,
Soooo, as it turns out, neither Jet nor Travis are fans of 80’s music. I find that to be a bit on the communist side, but what do I know? I thought choosing “I’m So Excited” by The Pointer Sisters for Travis was a great idea, and “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler for Jet? It was only logical! And it was such great timing. I was lucky enough to see it firsthand and let me tell you, it was great. Also, I think they’ve discovered I have access to the intercom system throughout the building, considering anytime I walk into a room now, my entrance music plays throughout the entire PMN building. It’s flippin’ sweet! Jet doesn’t seem too thrilled… then again, neither does Travis. Hmm… I wonder why?
(Links to the songs... it helps to hear them... plus they're just awesome. Also, I can't make the YouTube thing work >.<)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7f_HsjpSVaI
youtu.be/h-LbvFckptY
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Dear Diary,
Best. Idea. EVER! I get so bored at night here and I can’t leave to party soooo… why not bring the party to me? That’s right, Fun Party at the PMN building! I already called and tweeted all my Kappa home girls and we’re gonna have some fun! Remind me to thank Jet later for this little intervention. It’s been the best vacation I’ve had in a while. Well, since that little trip to Mexico…
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Dear Diary,
Hungover doesn’t even begin to cover it. *Sad panda face* Jet was apparently not pleased with me throwing a party here, let alone one with hug gear… I can’t imagine why. Something about it being a place of business. I don’t know, I tuned out after he started lecturing. Do you know he even made me WORK today? Had me stapling papers. I almost broke a nail. Tragic, I know. I decided to express my displeasure with him by singing old slave songs. You know, like “Day’s almost over… Jet’s got me workin’… someday Jet is gonna set me free…” And wouldn’t you know it, that’s when Gian walked in. I asked him if that was racist, because it did seem kinda racist. Just a smidge. He wouldn’t even talk to me! I decided not to apologize, but I did say “My bad.” Just goes to show you that my soul isn’t so morally bankrupt any longer, praise the Spaghetti Monster and Jet the Great Rehabilitator! But I got rid of some of the shirts last night! The girls loved them and said they were perfect shirts for Jet. This could become a popular thing. Ah well. I need to focus, got that match coming up against Travis… you know, now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t have aggravated him so badly… and that Fear guy with the unhealthy obsession with Zane. Meh. It’s all good. Me and the Living Xanax… we got this. Wait a minute, so UGWC doesn’t drug test??!! Wtf?!!
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“Jeeeeeeeeet!” Eden calls loudly, announcing herself as she walks into his office since her theme music no longer plays. Bummer.
Jet looks up from the papers he is scanning, unamused.
“What?”
She stops in front of him, plopping in a chair and dropping her feet down on his desk, chewing her gum loudly and blowing bubbles.
“That’s all I get now, is a ‘what?’ You used to be so much more personable. What happened?” She blows a particularly large bubble and pops it, sucking it back in her mouth and grinning at Jet. He glares at her.
“What do you want, Eden?”
She sighs, realizing she isn’t going to get anything else out of him.
“I need to train for my match coming up.”
“So?” he looks back down at the papers in his hands.
“…so I need to get to a gym.”
This time he sighs loudly, tossing the papers on his desk.
“You mean to tell me you’ve had the run of this building, threw a party here, and you still haven’t seen all of it? There’s a gym in the basement and yes, you can use it.”
Eden makes a pursed lip face and then scrunches her nose.
“Eh.. I get distracted easily. It’s a curse. But hey, nice doin’ business with ya.” she holds out a fist for a fist bump and when Jet makes no move to reciprocate, she forcibly grabs his hand and does it for him.
“There we go. Ya gotta get hip to the lingo, man. You are so not with it. Ugh. Just as bad as Travis.” And with that, she exits his office in search of the gym. Behind her, Jet stares at the door she left out of, the twitch from a couple of weeks ago back in full force. Eden doesn’t even bother turning around, her smile a knowing one as she climbs onto the elevator, sliding some sunglasses on her face. It’s only once the doors close do we hear her laughter echoing upwards as the elevator descends.
Eden Morgan moved behind Jet Somers as he made his way through the UGWC building out to the parking lot, her eyes on his back, but not really seeing him. Two uniformed police officers moved on either side of her, neither saying a word. No one said a word, at least not to her. People gave her wide-eyed looks, shocked glances, but no words were spoken. Or maybe she just didn’t hear them over the roar in her head. That could be it. She had, after all, gone from getting a three-count on Jet Somers to being in his custody… in a matter of minutes. Her head spun and she thought she was going to be sick… until Jet turned and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up even with him. He must have said something to her, because he fixed her with a look of supreme annoyance before waving the officers off and jerking her along with him out the doors to a waiting limo.
It was the sight of the limo that snapped her out of her stupor. Black limo. Like the one she had rode in with Reznik on the night she decided she would send a definitive message to Jet. A black limo like the one she had destroyed so viciously. A black limo like the one that had blown up in this very lot. Eden turns to glare at Jet and snatches her arm away from him, climbing into the limo and sliding to the far side. She crosses her arms and looks away from him as he slides in, calm and collected as usual, angry with his cool demeanor. She fumed. She seethed. Was he gloating?
Please, Flying Spaghetti Monster in the Sky, don’t let him be gloating or I’ll strangle him with a designer seat belt.
Jet clears his throat. Once. Twice. A third time. Eden finally turns to him, her eyes frosty.
“If you’re waiting for me to get you some water, I’m afraid you’ll choke to death first,” she manages a sweet smile, but it doesn’t her eyes.
Jet bites back a laugh, clearly pleased with himself.
“And here I was thinking I was so lucky that you were struck mute by this… fortuitous decision made on your behalf.” He relaxes in his seat, looking out the window for a moment.
Eden’s eyes narrow as she considers another act of violence on his person, then catches herself. No. The best way to get back at Jet Somers? Play his game, but play it better, and she had every confidence that she could. She smiles to herself, a satisfied smile and runs her fingers lingeringly over the leather of the seats.
“Hmm… very nice. Though, I have to say it’s not quite as nice your other limo. You know, the one you let Reznik and I borrow the other night? Such a shame, what happened to it.” Her hand stops moving as she sighs.
Jet stiffens in his seat momentarily and then relaxes, the smile on his face good-humored.
“Goad me all you like, Eden, I got what I wanted. What did you get?”
Eden fixes him with a dirty look.
“You know you won’t be mistreated while in my care, so you have no worries on that account.” Jet tugs at the collar of his shirt, loosening it as he watches the scenery go by.
Eden snorts and rolls her eyes.
“Well duh. You know what Cypress would do to you if you touched a hair on my pretty little head. That was a statement, not a question, by the way. Not to mention the other guys in the MC… you do know my brother’s the President of his own MC right? The Devil’s Most Wanted? Not that that would intimidate you. Not the big, bad Jet Somers. He makes his own rules. Of course there’s always the possibility that the Covenant could come back over this. I am technically Covenant royalty through Cypress. And then there’s Damarest and Zane.. I did just make an alliance there, though fat lot of good it did me tonight,” she trails off grumbling, more to herself than to him.
Jet doesn’t even acknowledge her words. She studies his profile for a moment, crossing her legs and finally speaking.
“So why do this at all then? Or are you that threatened by me? That must be it. How cheap a trick is that to take your opponent into some sort of feigned protective custody, especially when we all know that if anyone’s soul is “morally bankrupt” it’s yours? So you’re threatened by me. I have to say, I take that as a compliment, but I suppose you have a right. I mean, I did just beat you. You do realize that when that happens in a couple of weeks, that pretty little title is mine?” Eden sits back with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Jet fixes her with a bored look.
“I’m far from threatened by you, Eden. You got lucky tonight, and let’s face it, I won in the end. You’re in this for the battles. I’m in it for the war.” Jet turns back to the window.
Eden makes a show of mocking his words, her lips and face moving exaggeratedly with no sounds coming out. Silence fills the limo. Eden, not being one who can stand silence for long, is soon speaking again.
“So what are these terms? Am I to be held in a cell with a cup of stagnant water and stale bread for food?” She spies a thread poking out from the trim of the seats and starts plucking at it with a nail.
“Of course not. You are in my custody, which means you’ll be held in the PMN offices. In fact, there’s already a room that’s been prepared for you. I’m sure you’ll love it. You’ll have the run of the building and you’ll be allowed visitors and a phone, but you can’t leave unless you’re with me. That rule is concrete. Think of it as house arrest, but the PMN offices are your home.”
Eden rolls her eyes again, grumbling under her breath, but relieved this wouldn’t be the horror she had envisioned. Still, she had always resented being told what to do and Jet was really bad about trying to do that. Hey wait a minute…
“But the PMN Offices are in Atlanta!”
Jet doesn’t even bother looking at her, his tone still the same bored tone.
“You’re very astute, you know that?”
Eden stares at him, mouth agape, sitting up in her seat.
“But.. I can’t go to Atlanta! All my stuff is here and no one knows I’m leaving! You can’t just take me like this, I need to make preparations…” she trails off as Jet reaches over and covers her mouth with his hand, his look serious.
“We’re leaving now. You can get more “stuff”, and anyone who needs to know will find out soon enough. We’re already at the airport. No more arguments.” He removes his hand, before Eden, who sat shocked at his temerity, could commit some act of violence. As it was, her eyes shot daggers at his back as he exited the limo, holding the door open for her, the private plane awaiting them. Eden debates refusing to leave the limo, hesitating long enough to make Jet give her a questioning glance and then an “I-wish-you-would” smile. Grumbling again, she slides out of the car, deciding it’s better to get on the plane under own steam, rather than being unceremoniously dragged up the steps. Yep. Definitely better.
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The plane ride had been a relatively quiet one with Eden brooding and staring out the windows and Jet either on some sort of technological device or buried in a newspaper. She had been thankful for the time to think, and think she had. She had come to several conclusions, the ultimate one being this would be the worst decision Jet Somers had ever made. He would regret it, she promised herself that. They exit the plane, making their way to yet another limo, Jet holding onto Eden’s elbow again. She tries to jerk away in annoyance, but his grip tightens and she ceases her struggles. For the moment.
“How far is it to the offices?” she finally pulls away from him as they get into the limo, Jet straightening his suit jacket, allows her this small victory.
“Not far at all. Why? Eager to see your new home?”
Eden quickly looks up at Jet, one of her perfectly arched eyebrows rising over her crystalline gaze.
“So this isn’t to be a torture-fest. You’re trying to “save me.” I hate to tell you dear, I’m not Jez, and I can’t help but feel that this is some sort of misplaced attempt to save the sister you never could. If only you could have done this for her. Or to her.” Eden chuckles to herself, seeing Jet stiffen.
“You have some serious sister issues, dude. Like Game of Thrones type stuff.. Except without the incest. Cause eww.” Eden wrinkles her nose in distaste, dropping the topic of conversation. Jet turns enough to glare at her.
“It would behoove you to keep your mouth shut until we reach our destination.”
Eden starts to open her mouth and then, seeing his look, closes it, watching the scenery pass by the window. How to best get under Jet’s skin? Beat him at his own game. Suddenly a thought occurs to her and she gasps, her eyes flying open, a huge grin spreading on her face.
“Sooo…” she starts off and Jet leans his forehead against the cool window of the limo, closing his eyes.
“What now?” the question comes, almost tired, from him.
“Well, I was thinking… if I’m your ward, and you’re this rich guy who wears a suit during the day and battles “bad guys” at night… doesn’t that make you like Batman/Bruce Wayne and me like Robin/Dick Grayson? Except I‘m the cool one with all the black and you.. Well you‘re the Dick.” Eden winks at Jet just as the car stops in front of their destination. The door opens and Eden stares out, not noticing Jet staring a hole through her. PMN Offices. AKA her prison.
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“And this… is your room.” Jet had lead her all through the winding maze of floors and offices, departments and just blank, empty space. It was a little overwhelming, so she had remained quiet, and now… here they were. Her cell. May as well call it what it was. One cell in a big prison. Jet moves in front of her to unlock the door and then steps to the side, obviously wanting to see her face as she opens it. He flourishes a hand, indicating his desire that she do the honors. Eden cuts her eyes at him and reaches out, grasping the handle of the door and turning it…
Pink. Pink everywhere. Like someone took a fire hose filled with Pepto Bismol and completely coated the walls. And the dresser. And the closets. In fact, everything in the room was some shade of pink and… wait a minute, was the bed made to look like a castle? In the center of the room sat a bed with four posts spiraling up into the high ceiling. Sheer, wafting, PINK draperies hung effortlessly as a canopy over the bubblegum pink little girl royalty-style bed with a pink and white lace comforter perfectly folded on top. There was even a giant fluffy pillow that said “Princess”. Eden closes her eyes, hiding the look of revulsion quickly so as not to give Jet the pleasure. Instead she forces a huge grin on her face, jumping up and down and clapping excitedly.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!! How did you know??? I love it! It’s sooo perfect. Well, almost, I just need to add a few of my touches and then…” she looks up at Jet, pinching his cheek and smiling sweetly.
“You won’t mind getting a few things for me to make my stay more comfortable, will you?” her voice practically drips sugar. Like diabetic levels.
Jet returns her smile with one of his own.
“Why certainly. Whatever you like, you have but to let me know.”
Eden narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. Exactly why was he being so accommodating now? She decides to test him.
“Oh, and my cell phone. I’m free to use it anytime, to call anyone?”
The smile on his face doesn’t falter.
“But of course. Call whomever you should so desire. Just remember, you can’t leave here without me.”
He seems to watch her a bit more closely at those last words, starting to say something and changing his mind. He moves away from the door and then turns back to her.
“You have an intercom system set up in your room. It speaks directly into one of my main offices. Let me know what items you require and you’ll have them shortly. Oh, and Eden? There’s a present for you on the bed. I know you’ll get a lot of use out of it.” He was already walking away, his voice disappearing down the hall from which they had come. Eden makes a face at his back and closes the door, cringing as the color and “delicacy” of the room threaten to overwhelm her. Turning, she spies the package on the bed and moves cautiously across the room, poking it with a finger and stepping back quickly. No explosions. Super.
The wrapping paper is… you guessed it… pink. Pink with white polka dots to be exact. Eden makes a gagging noise and tears into the package, revealing a box. She pries the box open and just stares. Surrounded by various shades of pink tissue paper is a book. A pretty pink princess book with Eden’s name embroidered on it and bedazzled within an inch of its life. Eden stares at it blankly and picks it up, fighting the urge to throw it across the room, and thumbs through the pages. A diary. The prick had gotten her a diary. She grins. He had a sense of humor after all.
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Dear Diary,
First day in my new “home.” I decided I wanted to show Jet just how much I appreciate this wonderful gesture of his in a bid to save my soul, morally bankrupt as it is, so I thought it would be a great idea to have some Jet Somers fan club shirts made up. I’m sure he’ll love them, and I can’t wait to get them in!! I called Cypress and Jez, Cypress is coming tomorrow to check on me. Hopefully if the shirts are done by then, he can take a few home with him. Yay
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Dear Diary,
Yesterday was pretty boring and uneventful :/ I called A-Dog to see what he could set up for me in terms of some technologies and turns out Devil’s Most Wanted MC has a charter down here in Atlanta! Who knew my big brother could be so enterprising? I already have my own separate Wi-Fi set up, surround sound with big screen tv and of course an XBOX (product placement here), thanks to the local MC‘s technical genius, Glasses. Oh, and it was so thoughtful of him, it seems when Jet fed my intercom into his offices, it’s not very reliable. He’s only rarely in those particular offices. I wonder why he did that? Oh well, Glasses was only too happy to reroute that for me. Now my intercom goes out to the entire building. Isn’t that great? I think so. I just have to wait for the right moment to surprise Jet with it. I’m sure he’ll love it.
Dear Diary,
I didn’t expect to be writing again so soon, but OMG the shirts came in early! It’s such a shame that there was a misprint on them, but they’re still pretty effective. Jet didn’t seem as thrilled as I expected him to be. I’m not sure why that is. Ah well. I bribed one of his underlings into finding me a t-shirt cannon. Folks on the street, look out! Eden Morgan merchandise promoting Jet Somers is coming your way! Aaaannnnd I hear Cypress’ voice raised. Jet must have annoyed him. Not sure how he did that, he really is such an agreeable person.
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“Cypress!” Eden comes running into the room and jumps on her brother, hugging him tight. He returns the hug and sets her down, holding her back and looking her over as Jet looks on from his seated position at his desk, the same bored expression on his face.
“Well you look healthy. No complaints then?” Cypress grins conspiringly at her. Eden grins back.
“Not a one. Jet’s such a wonderful host. In fact, he’s so wonderful, I had these nifty shirts made up for him.” She stretches the fitted black t-shirt out from her body, showing it off proudly. Jet’s bored look changes to more of a glower as Cypress reads the writing and bursts into laughter. Eden playfully swats at him.
“Don’t laugh, it’s such a shame the print company misread what I asked them to print on the shirt. Who knew one little word could make such a difference?” Eden looks over at Jet with an innocent look in her gaze. He stretches his jaw, but says nothing.
Cypress continues to chuckle. “So am I to assume those weren’t supposed to say ‘Jet Somers is shit’?” He watches his sister, gleefully. Eden makes a show of rolling her eyes.
“Of course not, dear brother. I would never do something like that, not to Jet who has done so much for my degenerate self. No, they were supposed to say “Jet Somers is THE shit.” It’s so hard to find good help these days. Such a shame, but I refuse to be wasteful. I know Jet would agree. So I’ve been firing t-shirts out my window with a t-shirt cannon all morning to pedestrians. I think these shirts will be a hit, despite the grammatical error!” She smiles sweetly at Jet who just sighs. Cypress does nothing to hide his grin.
“Well then. It looks like you’re in capable hands. I’ll come back and check on you again. You know how to reach me if you need me. I’ll stay close.” He says the last part seriously, watching her closely. Eden nods. Cypress turns to Jet.
“I feel like I should wish you good luck in this. You have no idea what you‘ve gotten yourself into.”
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Dear Diary,
I talked one of the employees into getting me some walkie talkies. I have 2 sets, one set up in one of Pierce’s offices and one in Jet’s. And now… I wait…
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Jet Somers walked into his office, closing the door behind himself. The girl could give him a headache like no other. He rubbed his temples and moved closer to the chair that seemed to beckon him from across the room… and that’s when he saw the walkie talkie. With a note. “Roger, roger” … and another of those cute little hearts. He was really starting to hate those. Jet sighs and debates whether to toss the offending object out the window or to just play along. Better to just play along. The girl had a wicked imagination and came up with more ways to bedevil him in the past few days than most people had in a lifetime. And she did it all so… innocently. She had to be evil. Had to be. Still… he lifts the walkie talkie and presses the button.
“Who is this?” As if he didn’t know.
And waits. Silence.
Finally a voice. Eden’s voice, but much gruffer, like she’s altered it somehow. Then the words hit him and he rolls his eyes, leaning back to look up at the ceiling.
“Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench. The pain in the ass.”
Silence.
“Eden, what are you playing at?”
Silence, then Eden’s voice but in the same gruff-ish manner.
“Yippee-ki-yay, mother lover.”
Jet starts pacing his office in exasperation, pressing the button again.
“I’m not playing your games, Eden.”
This time, it’s her voice coming back over the waves.
“Yes you are, Jet. You have to be German Snape. Be the German Snape I know you can be.”
In response, Jet throws the walkie talkie out the window, feeling an immense satisfaction as it sails through the air. Getting no response from him, Eden tosses hers in a trash can as she passes through the various departments, wandering aimlessly, making faces at every security camera she passes. She pulls another out of her back pocket with a grin, raising it to her lips.
“Travis’ turn…”
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Dear Diary,
So the walkie talkie thing didn’t work as well as I had hoped. I’m not entirely sure what Jet did with his, but I’m fairly certain Travis smashed his to pieces with a heavy, blunt object. And I was only doing him a favor and reminding him he needed to get some training in, he was looking a little sloppy in the ring. All that living as an entertainment professional and not enough as a sports professional. It takes its toll. Seriously. I’d like to face him in the peak of condition, his PRIME, which it could be argued he is a bit past… but I suppose that’s a moot point. The man does NOT take criticism well. And I thought Jet was bad. Jeez. So Jet’s supposed to appear on TPT … I think I’ll help them out with theme music. I just know they’ll enjoy my choices.
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Dear Diary,
Soooo, as it turns out, neither Jet nor Travis are fans of 80’s music. I find that to be a bit on the communist side, but what do I know? I thought choosing “I’m So Excited” by The Pointer Sisters for Travis was a great idea, and “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler for Jet? It was only logical! And it was such great timing. I was lucky enough to see it firsthand and let me tell you, it was great. Also, I think they’ve discovered I have access to the intercom system throughout the building, considering anytime I walk into a room now, my entrance music plays throughout the entire PMN building. It’s flippin’ sweet! Jet doesn’t seem too thrilled… then again, neither does Travis. Hmm… I wonder why?
(Links to the songs... it helps to hear them... plus they're just awesome. Also, I can't make the YouTube thing work >.<)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=7f_HsjpSVaI
youtu.be/h-LbvFckptY
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Dear Diary,
Best. Idea. EVER! I get so bored at night here and I can’t leave to party soooo… why not bring the party to me? That’s right, Fun Party at the PMN building! I already called and tweeted all my Kappa home girls and we’re gonna have some fun! Remind me to thank Jet later for this little intervention. It’s been the best vacation I’ve had in a while. Well, since that little trip to Mexico…
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Dear Diary,
Hungover doesn’t even begin to cover it. *Sad panda face* Jet was apparently not pleased with me throwing a party here, let alone one with hug gear… I can’t imagine why. Something about it being a place of business. I don’t know, I tuned out after he started lecturing. Do you know he even made me WORK today? Had me stapling papers. I almost broke a nail. Tragic, I know. I decided to express my displeasure with him by singing old slave songs. You know, like “Day’s almost over… Jet’s got me workin’… someday Jet is gonna set me free…” And wouldn’t you know it, that’s when Gian walked in. I asked him if that was racist, because it did seem kinda racist. Just a smidge. He wouldn’t even talk to me! I decided not to apologize, but I did say “My bad.” Just goes to show you that my soul isn’t so morally bankrupt any longer, praise the Spaghetti Monster and Jet the Great Rehabilitator! But I got rid of some of the shirts last night! The girls loved them and said they were perfect shirts for Jet. This could become a popular thing. Ah well. I need to focus, got that match coming up against Travis… you know, now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t have aggravated him so badly… and that Fear guy with the unhealthy obsession with Zane. Meh. It’s all good. Me and the Living Xanax… we got this. Wait a minute, so UGWC doesn’t drug test??!! Wtf?!!
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“Jeeeeeeeeet!” Eden calls loudly, announcing herself as she walks into his office since her theme music no longer plays. Bummer.
Jet looks up from the papers he is scanning, unamused.
“What?”
She stops in front of him, plopping in a chair and dropping her feet down on his desk, chewing her gum loudly and blowing bubbles.
“That’s all I get now, is a ‘what?’ You used to be so much more personable. What happened?” She blows a particularly large bubble and pops it, sucking it back in her mouth and grinning at Jet. He glares at her.
“What do you want, Eden?”
She sighs, realizing she isn’t going to get anything else out of him.
“I need to train for my match coming up.”
“So?” he looks back down at the papers in his hands.
“…so I need to get to a gym.”
This time he sighs loudly, tossing the papers on his desk.
“You mean to tell me you’ve had the run of this building, threw a party here, and you still haven’t seen all of it? There’s a gym in the basement and yes, you can use it.”
Eden makes a pursed lip face and then scrunches her nose.
“Eh.. I get distracted easily. It’s a curse. But hey, nice doin’ business with ya.” she holds out a fist for a fist bump and when Jet makes no move to reciprocate, she forcibly grabs his hand and does it for him.
“There we go. Ya gotta get hip to the lingo, man. You are so not with it. Ugh. Just as bad as Travis.” And with that, she exits his office in search of the gym. Behind her, Jet stares at the door she left out of, the twitch from a couple of weeks ago back in full force. Eden doesn’t even bother turning around, her smile a knowing one as she climbs onto the elevator, sliding some sunglasses on her face. It’s only once the doors close do we hear her laughter echoing upwards as the elevator descends.