Seventeen Forever | PG | Multiple Pairings | 1/?
Title: Seventeen Forever
Author: perfectxreality
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nothing ever is. Le Sigh.
Spoilers: None, it's A/U
Rating: PG although it may move to R.
Characters/Pairing: Orton/Stacy, Phil/Chris, Paul/Steph, Trish/Cena
Summary: Its senior year at McMahon High and, like any other school, it shows everyone just who there friends are. Be it through cheating, backstabbing or just plain drama.
As the alarm clock struck seven o’clock, Paul Lévesque lazily opened one eye, rubbing the other with his fist. He wasn’t ready for it to be morning - not yet, anyway - and turned over, swatting the alarm clock with his hand, closing his eyes once more and pulling the covers back up to his chin. Almost the second his eyelids closed, his ears were filled with the sound of his mother, screaming from the bottom of the stairs that he had to get up or else he would be late for school. And on the first day of senior year, too. Mrs. Lévesque was a lawyer, like her husband, and was very big on punctuality. She was persistent, too, and Paul knew there was no chance in hell that she was going to let him lay in bed a moment longer. Peeling back the covers, the blond groaned, “Fuck my life."
Elsewhere, Stacy Keibler had been awake for almost two hours, having roused from her bed at little before half past five. Sitting at the breakfast table across from her mother and little brother, Matthew, Stacy jabbered on excitedly about how fantastic senior year was going to be, waving her hands as she spoke and narrowly missing the bottle of milk placed on the table by her left hand. “Stacy, honey, perhaps if you calmed down…Maybe you could eat something…Matthew, pour your sister some fruit loops…” Mrs Keibler stared at her daughter and, while she was certain the blonde had had enough e-numbers to last a life time, she knew the young girl had to eat. “You have to have something to eat before Trish comes, darling…” But, rather than answering, Stacy shook her head and attempted to wave her mother off, resulting in her hand connecting with the bottle of milk, sending it to the floor with a clatter, the glass shattering and the liquid pouring out.
“Oops…” the leggy blonde said, her hands remaining frozen in the air as Matthew cackled loudly, his sister’s clumsiness the world’s biggest joke, in his eyes.
It was almost half past eight by the time Trish knocked on the Keibler’s door, Stacy throwing it open and hurling herself into the shorter girl’s arms, both of them squealing in delight. “Can you believe it?” Trish babbled excitedly as they broke apart, smoothing down her hair. “We finally made it to senior year…” Stacy called goodbye to her mother and grabbed her bag, which lay on the bottom of the stairs, and left the house, the two blondes making their way towards the school by foot. As they walked, their heels clattering off the ground, the two discussed just how “fantastic” their year would be. They had, thanks to the joys of their mobile phones and the use of MySpace, kept up to date with most people from school over the summer but, without fail, there was always major gossip on the first day of school. Always. And this year would be no different.
“Hi Chris,” Stacy smiled waving at a tall boy with wavy, blond hair as hey grew closer to the large silver gates of McMahon high school. Holding hands with his boyfriend of little over a year, the blond waved back, a grin plastered all over his face.
“I really don’t know why you talk to those people, Stace,” Trish said, throwing a sceptical look towards the two male lovers. “They’re so odd…” Trish was a devout Catholic - for the most part - and had been brought up to believe that homosexuality was incredibly wrong and, so, she refused to fraternise with such people.
“Chris is ever so lovely,” Stacy smiled, shaking her head towards her friend. “He and Amy are starting a band, you know?” Stacy was friends with just about everyone and had no problem with people regardless of race, sexuality or anything of the like. It was all part of her naivety, according to Trish.
“Another weirdo,” Trish said, rolling her eyes. She couldn’t understand why her friend would involve herself with people like Amy and Chris. They weren’t as cool as Stacy and Trish and the rest of their friends and so Trish kept firmly away from them. “You know it’s a sin Stacy - they’re all gonna go to hell and you know it. It’s not natural and you don’t want to involve yourself in it. You could catch something…”
“Not all gay people have aids, Trish…”
“You don’t know that,” the petite blonde pouted. “And anyway, people will start thinking you’re like them. You’ll be another fag hag like Amy or whatever it is she’s calling herself now…”
“Lita.”
“Lita…Sounds so trashy…” Stacy shook her head, knowing that it was best not to question her friend’s beliefs. Trish was very serious about them and she wouldn’t back down to anyone. And so, shrugging, she incited an awkward silence, the two blondes entering through the gates without so much as another word.
“God I hate her,” Chris’s boyfriend Phil rolled his eyes, staring at the shorter blonde, a look of sheer disgust etched into every other-wise handsome feature. He had never had any altercation with the blonde herself, per se, but her friends, the people she was best associated with, were pure evil in his eyes and he had, on more than one occasion, found himself in verbal exchanges with some of the males in her little ‘clique’. Stacy, on the other hand, was the lesser of two evils for Phil. She was stupid, blonde and one of the ‘populars’ but at least she wasn’t stuck up about it - hell, she classed Chris’s friend, Amy, as a friend and not many did… Chris didn’t reply, mainly due to the fact that he wasn’t too keen on the cheerleader either. As silence fell, Phil turned to the next topic: body art. “So I’m between two ideas…a Pepsi symbol or a Ninja Clan one…”
“I don’t see why you wanna do it,” Chris said after a few seconds, shaking his head so that a few loose strands of hair fell into his eyes. “They’re tacky…They’re ugly…And you’re stuck with them forever. Do you really wanna be stuck with some stupid Pepsi can on your body? Think about how that’ll look when you’re sixty…”
Phil dropped his boyfriend’s hand, dragging his bottom loop through his teeth, tugging at his lip ring. “You’re so…” The dark haired student paused, scrunching up his face as he searched for the right word. “Chris…You’re boring and I think we should break up.” He prepared himself for the wince, the intake of breath or, possibly, the smack in the face but, ultimately, the silence was worse. Chris stared at him; his lips parted slightly, eyes wide. “What I’m trying to say is…Well…During summer, when you were up in Manitoba I went with Matt and Jeff to visit their family down in North Carolina. Spent some time with my grandparents…”
“I know they’re religious and all,” Chris started, placing one hand on Phil’s. “But we can still continue to see each other. They don’t need to know…We can pretend…Say you’re with a nice girl…Christina…”
“Chris, it’s not that,” Phil’s voice dropped an octave as he nodded in recognition towards Jeff and Matt Hardy, his best friend and twin brother, as they passed. He pulled his hand from Chris’s grasp. “When I was down there…I met this guy. He’s friends with Matt and, well, he’s so different. He has all these tattoos and a bullring through his septum…” Every word he uttered was full of amazement - this boy had clearly made an impact on him. And Chris knew it wasn’t a good sign. “He’s everything I wanna be you know? He’s out there. He’s seen stuff and done stuff that I’ll never get to. Not if I’m with you…”
The look that crossed Chris’s face conveyed such a range of emotions that Phil struggled to read it. First there was confusion. ‘Was Phil really breaking up with him? And for someone else?’ Then there was hurt. ‘But he loved Phil - they had been together for over a year now…’ And then there was anger. ‘Whoever this new boy was, Chris was gonna make him pay…’ And, then, finally, there was heartbreak. “But…But…” He tried to speak, to make a coherent sentence and push the words together but, instead, all that came out was a string of vowels, a low groan that told Phil everything he had to know. He had just broken Chris’s heart. And so, with one last glance into the blond’s eyes, Phil walked away, through the gates and into the school grounds.
A quiet hush echoed through the assembly hall, headmaster Vince McMahon - who’s father had founded the school - standing at the podium at the front, hands braced in an almost ‘Obama-style’ pose. Everyone was talking about it, what had happened at the school gates. Chris hadn’t come into the school. Instead, he turned and walked back in the direction he had come, too distraught to face Phil or anyone else. Matt had always been in his History class and the thought that he had known of this ‘other guy’ killing him. No, it was just best he didn’t go to school today, this week, or any time in the near future. He couldn’t faced the thought that everyone would know and everyone would be talking about it. He didn’t need pity. He needed to curl up in his bed and pray that Phil changed his mind.
“Did you hear about the Queers?” asked a tall boy with dark hair as he took a seat beside Trish at the back of the hall, casually draping his arm around her shoulders. The blonde looked up shaking her head. She had, of course, seen the two of them as she had entered the school and had heard the hushed whisper around the hall, the words ‘Phil’ and ‘Chris’ taking centre stage in the conversation, but was yet to find out what had happened. “Well the one with his lip pierced,” John felt it below him to learn the names of people he deemed less popular. “Dumped the other ones ass. Apparently he was fucking some dude down in Carolina…”
Stacy, who had been sitting on the other side of Trish, clutched both hands to her face, shaking her head. “Oh no,” she proclaimed a little too loud causing people in front of her to turn around. “Oh poor Chris. I should give him a text…Oh…I can’t believe Phil would do that…He always seemed so…So…Perfect.”
“Who is?” came an almost demanding voice from behind her. Stacy’s boyfriend, Randy, had caught the sentence ‘he always seemed so perfect’ and wasn’t exactly keen on it.
“Phil…” Stacy replied distractedly as she rooted around in her huge purse, trying to find her cell.
“The queer?” a raised eyebrow slowly lowered as his friends nodded in response. “Oh, that’s alright then…” He added, leaning down, pecking Stacy on the cheek, and taking the seat behind her as Mr. McMahon tapped on the microphone, ready to begin. Stacy remained distant as she tapped out a long text to Chris, apologising and telling him just how sorry she was that Phil had dumped him, telling him that he could always come to her if he needed anything but Randy leaned forward, whispering as the headmaster needlessly introduced himself. “Where’s Paul and Steph?” Trish shrugged, pretending to listen to McMahon, scared to receive detention on her first day.
“Welcome to your final year at McMahon High,” the headmaster said, stretching his arms out in what he deemed to be a ‘welcoming gesture’. It was at this point that resident stoner Michael Mizanin decided to point out that he looked like Jesus on the cross. “And that, Mike, has just landed you in detention on your first day as a senior - congratulations.” The greying teacher clapped his hands in the joker’s direction, the year laughing at him. “But, as I was saying, welcome. You know all about the rules and regulations of the school - that’s what the past three years have been about - and so this assembly isn’t about all of that. This assembly is to tell you what we expect from you. This year is all about values, citizenship and coming together as a community.” Randy and John rolled their eyes - what did they have to come together for? They didn’t want to be part of a community with some of the freaks in the school… “And, we’ve appointed two people…For want of a better word…Leaders of this ‘community’.” Blank stares crossed the faces of the student body. “Paul, Stephanie, if you’d like to come out. Please give a round of applause for your new head boy and girl…”
“What the fuck?” Torrie Wilson spat from her seat not far down from Trish and Stacy. “She’s head cheerleader AND head girl? How the fuck is that fair?” Her two cronies, Candice and Maria nodded in agreement, the short redhead patting her arm and muttering ‘it so should have been you, Torrie. You’re so much prettier…And a better cheerleader.’ “It’s only because she’s his daughter and Paul is her boyfriend…That should have been me and Johnny…”
Trish, upon hearing the ditzy blonde’s words leaned forward, one look from her silencing the three friends. Torrie Wilson and John Hennigan as Head Boy and Girl? What a joke! But even as she thought of this, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of Stephanie herself. It was always the brunette! This was largely due to her father being headmaster and having drastic favourites. From the moment they had all stepped into McMahon High, it had been very apparent that Stephanie and Paul would have the run of this school. She watched the two appear on stage, clapping and smiling like everyone else, but, as Stephanie waved up to the back at her best friend, Trish couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous.
Author: perfectxreality
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nothing ever is. Le Sigh.
Spoilers: None, it's A/U
Rating: PG although it may move to R.
Characters/Pairing: Orton/Stacy, Phil/Chris, Paul/Steph, Trish/Cena
Summary: Its senior year at McMahon High and, like any other school, it shows everyone just who there friends are. Be it through cheating, backstabbing or just plain drama.
As the alarm clock struck seven o’clock, Paul Lévesque lazily opened one eye, rubbing the other with his fist. He wasn’t ready for it to be morning - not yet, anyway - and turned over, swatting the alarm clock with his hand, closing his eyes once more and pulling the covers back up to his chin. Almost the second his eyelids closed, his ears were filled with the sound of his mother, screaming from the bottom of the stairs that he had to get up or else he would be late for school. And on the first day of senior year, too. Mrs. Lévesque was a lawyer, like her husband, and was very big on punctuality. She was persistent, too, and Paul knew there was no chance in hell that she was going to let him lay in bed a moment longer. Peeling back the covers, the blond groaned, “Fuck my life."
Elsewhere, Stacy Keibler had been awake for almost two hours, having roused from her bed at little before half past five. Sitting at the breakfast table across from her mother and little brother, Matthew, Stacy jabbered on excitedly about how fantastic senior year was going to be, waving her hands as she spoke and narrowly missing the bottle of milk placed on the table by her left hand. “Stacy, honey, perhaps if you calmed down…Maybe you could eat something…Matthew, pour your sister some fruit loops…” Mrs Keibler stared at her daughter and, while she was certain the blonde had had enough e-numbers to last a life time, she knew the young girl had to eat. “You have to have something to eat before Trish comes, darling…” But, rather than answering, Stacy shook her head and attempted to wave her mother off, resulting in her hand connecting with the bottle of milk, sending it to the floor with a clatter, the glass shattering and the liquid pouring out.
“Oops…” the leggy blonde said, her hands remaining frozen in the air as Matthew cackled loudly, his sister’s clumsiness the world’s biggest joke, in his eyes.
It was almost half past eight by the time Trish knocked on the Keibler’s door, Stacy throwing it open and hurling herself into the shorter girl’s arms, both of them squealing in delight. “Can you believe it?” Trish babbled excitedly as they broke apart, smoothing down her hair. “We finally made it to senior year…” Stacy called goodbye to her mother and grabbed her bag, which lay on the bottom of the stairs, and left the house, the two blondes making their way towards the school by foot. As they walked, their heels clattering off the ground, the two discussed just how “fantastic” their year would be. They had, thanks to the joys of their mobile phones and the use of MySpace, kept up to date with most people from school over the summer but, without fail, there was always major gossip on the first day of school. Always. And this year would be no different.
“Hi Chris,” Stacy smiled waving at a tall boy with wavy, blond hair as hey grew closer to the large silver gates of McMahon high school. Holding hands with his boyfriend of little over a year, the blond waved back, a grin plastered all over his face.
“I really don’t know why you talk to those people, Stace,” Trish said, throwing a sceptical look towards the two male lovers. “They’re so odd…” Trish was a devout Catholic - for the most part - and had been brought up to believe that homosexuality was incredibly wrong and, so, she refused to fraternise with such people.
“Chris is ever so lovely,” Stacy smiled, shaking her head towards her friend. “He and Amy are starting a band, you know?” Stacy was friends with just about everyone and had no problem with people regardless of race, sexuality or anything of the like. It was all part of her naivety, according to Trish.
“Another weirdo,” Trish said, rolling her eyes. She couldn’t understand why her friend would involve herself with people like Amy and Chris. They weren’t as cool as Stacy and Trish and the rest of their friends and so Trish kept firmly away from them. “You know it’s a sin Stacy - they’re all gonna go to hell and you know it. It’s not natural and you don’t want to involve yourself in it. You could catch something…”
“Not all gay people have aids, Trish…”
“You don’t know that,” the petite blonde pouted. “And anyway, people will start thinking you’re like them. You’ll be another fag hag like Amy or whatever it is she’s calling herself now…”
“Lita.”
“Lita…Sounds so trashy…” Stacy shook her head, knowing that it was best not to question her friend’s beliefs. Trish was very serious about them and she wouldn’t back down to anyone. And so, shrugging, she incited an awkward silence, the two blondes entering through the gates without so much as another word.
“God I hate her,” Chris’s boyfriend Phil rolled his eyes, staring at the shorter blonde, a look of sheer disgust etched into every other-wise handsome feature. He had never had any altercation with the blonde herself, per se, but her friends, the people she was best associated with, were pure evil in his eyes and he had, on more than one occasion, found himself in verbal exchanges with some of the males in her little ‘clique’. Stacy, on the other hand, was the lesser of two evils for Phil. She was stupid, blonde and one of the ‘populars’ but at least she wasn’t stuck up about it - hell, she classed Chris’s friend, Amy, as a friend and not many did… Chris didn’t reply, mainly due to the fact that he wasn’t too keen on the cheerleader either. As silence fell, Phil turned to the next topic: body art. “So I’m between two ideas…a Pepsi symbol or a Ninja Clan one…”
“I don’t see why you wanna do it,” Chris said after a few seconds, shaking his head so that a few loose strands of hair fell into his eyes. “They’re tacky…They’re ugly…And you’re stuck with them forever. Do you really wanna be stuck with some stupid Pepsi can on your body? Think about how that’ll look when you’re sixty…”
Phil dropped his boyfriend’s hand, dragging his bottom loop through his teeth, tugging at his lip ring. “You’re so…” The dark haired student paused, scrunching up his face as he searched for the right word. “Chris…You’re boring and I think we should break up.” He prepared himself for the wince, the intake of breath or, possibly, the smack in the face but, ultimately, the silence was worse. Chris stared at him; his lips parted slightly, eyes wide. “What I’m trying to say is…Well…During summer, when you were up in Manitoba I went with Matt and Jeff to visit their family down in North Carolina. Spent some time with my grandparents…”
“I know they’re religious and all,” Chris started, placing one hand on Phil’s. “But we can still continue to see each other. They don’t need to know…We can pretend…Say you’re with a nice girl…Christina…”
“Chris, it’s not that,” Phil’s voice dropped an octave as he nodded in recognition towards Jeff and Matt Hardy, his best friend and twin brother, as they passed. He pulled his hand from Chris’s grasp. “When I was down there…I met this guy. He’s friends with Matt and, well, he’s so different. He has all these tattoos and a bullring through his septum…” Every word he uttered was full of amazement - this boy had clearly made an impact on him. And Chris knew it wasn’t a good sign. “He’s everything I wanna be you know? He’s out there. He’s seen stuff and done stuff that I’ll never get to. Not if I’m with you…”
The look that crossed Chris’s face conveyed such a range of emotions that Phil struggled to read it. First there was confusion. ‘Was Phil really breaking up with him? And for someone else?’ Then there was hurt. ‘But he loved Phil - they had been together for over a year now…’ And then there was anger. ‘Whoever this new boy was, Chris was gonna make him pay…’ And, then, finally, there was heartbreak. “But…But…” He tried to speak, to make a coherent sentence and push the words together but, instead, all that came out was a string of vowels, a low groan that told Phil everything he had to know. He had just broken Chris’s heart. And so, with one last glance into the blond’s eyes, Phil walked away, through the gates and into the school grounds.
A quiet hush echoed through the assembly hall, headmaster Vince McMahon - who’s father had founded the school - standing at the podium at the front, hands braced in an almost ‘Obama-style’ pose. Everyone was talking about it, what had happened at the school gates. Chris hadn’t come into the school. Instead, he turned and walked back in the direction he had come, too distraught to face Phil or anyone else. Matt had always been in his History class and the thought that he had known of this ‘other guy’ killing him. No, it was just best he didn’t go to school today, this week, or any time in the near future. He couldn’t faced the thought that everyone would know and everyone would be talking about it. He didn’t need pity. He needed to curl up in his bed and pray that Phil changed his mind.
“Did you hear about the Queers?” asked a tall boy with dark hair as he took a seat beside Trish at the back of the hall, casually draping his arm around her shoulders. The blonde looked up shaking her head. She had, of course, seen the two of them as she had entered the school and had heard the hushed whisper around the hall, the words ‘Phil’ and ‘Chris’ taking centre stage in the conversation, but was yet to find out what had happened. “Well the one with his lip pierced,” John felt it below him to learn the names of people he deemed less popular. “Dumped the other ones ass. Apparently he was fucking some dude down in Carolina…”
Stacy, who had been sitting on the other side of Trish, clutched both hands to her face, shaking her head. “Oh no,” she proclaimed a little too loud causing people in front of her to turn around. “Oh poor Chris. I should give him a text…Oh…I can’t believe Phil would do that…He always seemed so…So…Perfect.”
“Who is?” came an almost demanding voice from behind her. Stacy’s boyfriend, Randy, had caught the sentence ‘he always seemed so perfect’ and wasn’t exactly keen on it.
“Phil…” Stacy replied distractedly as she rooted around in her huge purse, trying to find her cell.
“The queer?” a raised eyebrow slowly lowered as his friends nodded in response. “Oh, that’s alright then…” He added, leaning down, pecking Stacy on the cheek, and taking the seat behind her as Mr. McMahon tapped on the microphone, ready to begin. Stacy remained distant as she tapped out a long text to Chris, apologising and telling him just how sorry she was that Phil had dumped him, telling him that he could always come to her if he needed anything but Randy leaned forward, whispering as the headmaster needlessly introduced himself. “Where’s Paul and Steph?” Trish shrugged, pretending to listen to McMahon, scared to receive detention on her first day.
“Welcome to your final year at McMahon High,” the headmaster said, stretching his arms out in what he deemed to be a ‘welcoming gesture’. It was at this point that resident stoner Michael Mizanin decided to point out that he looked like Jesus on the cross. “And that, Mike, has just landed you in detention on your first day as a senior - congratulations.” The greying teacher clapped his hands in the joker’s direction, the year laughing at him. “But, as I was saying, welcome. You know all about the rules and regulations of the school - that’s what the past three years have been about - and so this assembly isn’t about all of that. This assembly is to tell you what we expect from you. This year is all about values, citizenship and coming together as a community.” Randy and John rolled their eyes - what did they have to come together for? They didn’t want to be part of a community with some of the freaks in the school… “And, we’ve appointed two people…For want of a better word…Leaders of this ‘community’.” Blank stares crossed the faces of the student body. “Paul, Stephanie, if you’d like to come out. Please give a round of applause for your new head boy and girl…”
“What the fuck?” Torrie Wilson spat from her seat not far down from Trish and Stacy. “She’s head cheerleader AND head girl? How the fuck is that fair?” Her two cronies, Candice and Maria nodded in agreement, the short redhead patting her arm and muttering ‘it so should have been you, Torrie. You’re so much prettier…And a better cheerleader.’ “It’s only because she’s his daughter and Paul is her boyfriend…That should have been me and Johnny…”
Trish, upon hearing the ditzy blonde’s words leaned forward, one look from her silencing the three friends. Torrie Wilson and John Hennigan as Head Boy and Girl? What a joke! But even as she thought of this, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of Stephanie herself. It was always the brunette! This was largely due to her father being headmaster and having drastic favourites. From the moment they had all stepped into McMahon High, it had been very apparent that Stephanie and Paul would have the run of this school. She watched the two appear on stage, clapping and smiling like everyone else, but, as Stephanie waved up to the back at her best friend, Trish couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous.