Unburning Bridges

Amy wasn't sure what Drake had meant, and the spoon gesture hadn't really helped. But when he moved toward the bed, she finally understood, and made as much room as she could without sacrificing her own comfort. His head came down close enough for her to pat, and, when Drake gave her his support, Amy smiled and indulged in their proximity, affectionately twirling a dark lock around her finger. "Thanks. That's the plan."

She pulled her hand away from Drake's head when he asked his question. Back to eating. "I fought a fella by the name of Blaise. He's a real good guy, stellar dancer, soaked up my punches like a sponge and kept coming back for more. I put him in an armbar, and he held out for nearly too long." Amy shuddered, and not from her frozen dessert. "It was his first match too. I kind of blew up at him, stole a couple of the better lines from you, stuff about ending his career and all that jazz." Aww, she was finished. She sucked absentmindedly at her spoon. "Then there was this girl, Rachel, my first Friction match." Amy interrupted herself for a moment. "Oh hey, by the way, you're looking at the newest girl on the Tension roster. Just signed the papers for the transfer the other day." Then she continued. "I fought her good and hard because she made out like she was a rough and tumble chick from the street, but it turned out she was just a scared little girl in over her head. I... I felt pretty guilty for going all out on her after I found that out. Neither fight felt particularly good, even after I'd won." Amy put her trash on the night stand so that her hands were free to worry over her ponytail. "It's been an educational few weeks for me, you might say."

So Amy nearly broke or dislocated some dude's arm when he refused to give in, and then went to town on a girl with a louder bark than bite. It really does sound like she's taken a stroll on the other side. This little chat makes a lot more sense to him.

Oh, she's done with her yogurt. Drake hadn't even started. He glances down to it, takes a quick spoonful, then tilts the container at her invitingly.

When the spoon pops out of his mouth again, he sets his spoon-toting arm around her shoulders. "Yeah. It's a sucky feeling, thinking you might really hurt someone. That it might be on your head that their hopes'n dreams just... crumble." But he's glad she's had that experience. It'll keep her safe now. "Was the girl okay, at least? You found out before you, like... broke'er neck, right?"

Amy knew that she should refuse Drake's yogurt; he'd only had a bite after all, and she'd asked for two so that they could each have one. But, try as she might, she couldn't keep a big goofy grin from growing on her face. She cocked her head and her ponytail bounced. "Are you sure? Thanks!" She snuggled in contentedly against her pillow. "You know I'm older than you, right? You should let me be the mature one now and then."

As she started in on her nearly brand-new cup, Amy responded. "I did. I figured it out before it got too far, and I ended it as soon as I can." Then Amy laughed- not at the girl's loss, but at the incongruous image she was about to insert into Domino's mind. "I piledrived- piledrove? I pulled a piledriver on her. I only ever fight giants, so I never get to use power moves, but you big dudes never bothered mentioning how much fun it is throwing somebody around like you're the Hulk. Makes me want to bulk up and pull one off on you."

She wiggled her shoulders against the affectionate arm behind her. "Alright, enough about me. I've got food, and you don't. What have you been up to for the last month? Gosh, it feels like it's been forever since we last talked."

"Psh, I never get to be the mature one in my house. Besides, how old are you? You look like you might even be younger than me." Not a day over 20, that's what Domino surmises. And he's just shy of 20, himself.

Either way, he has to agree, "Piledrivers are fun. You remember that's one of my finishers, right?" He clicks his tongue and tilts his head back. "You've still never even seen one of them from me, have you?" She didn't get the splash she'd requested during their match, and unless things have changed, it sounded like she'd never watched a video of him in a match. So it's unlikely she's seen his full athleticism at work.

The subject drifts on, because really, it's a good question. And being the model that he is, he's used to having a bit of focus on himself, so he doesn't shrink back from it. But his recent goings-on are storied, one might say, and a little on the sensitive side. "I agreed to one or two other matches that allowed the hentai thing. Didn't require it, but allowed it. And I tried using some of it on a girl, but... it..." He pauses to knit his brow in reflection. "I don't think it's for me. In the moment, maybe, but afterwards, I just feel sort'a... gross. And considering there was this girl I was thinking about dating, I couldn't keep doing it. Felt too much like cheating."

His head rolls over to look directly to Amy as the story continues, "She was one of the Tension girls. Seemed really sweet, really, really into me, but it blew up hard. She wanted to do those hentai matches, and I couldn't carry a romantic relationship with someone who did'em. I don't... share well." He squints slightly in a mild cringe. "We ended on... neutral terms, I think is the best way to put it. After one date."

Amy cleared her throat. "Drake Vyril, Domino, of Los Angeles, Califonia, you are a fresh 19 years old. I am a whole three years wiser than you. I'll take it as a compliment that you thought I was younger than you, Model-san." She leaned in close and spoke furtively. "The secret is moisturizing. The cold can be hell on your skin."

The subject turned to hentai matches, and Amy's expression turned somber. This was a topic on which they were in complete agreement. "I get you. It feels dirty doing that stuff with an audience ogling. And that goes double if you're attached. I get that it's part of our job description sometimes, but there are some lines that even your career just shouldn't be able to cross." She leaned into Drake's arm again. "Sorry that happened with that girl, but it sounded like you guys were just too different. Don't worry though," she knocked her head playfully into his chin. "You'll find somebody. The model-athlete thing helps."

Drake squints at her skeptically when she gives her age. It's written on his face: he doesn't buy it. But he won't argue it with her. He suspects she might be fudging the numbers for legal drinking purposes! Though he isn't even sure what the legal drinking age is in Japan. It's never come up for him.

Anyway, the other topic ultimately has a more interesting destination. "You're exactly right. Everything seemed all nice, but we just had those differences. And I wouldn't feel right telling her to not do something with her career that she actually wanted to do - especially just getting to know'er."

A perky smile finds his face, and he tilts his head to look down at her. "But! It's funny you should say that, because the very next match I had was with someone who was... amazing." He gives a soft sigh and scooches into the bed closer to the blonde, until his head is beside hers. "Julia Rogers. She pinned me. But it was a really tough match, and she did everything right." With a slightly impish lilt in his voice, he adds, "You should watch it. I think the audience was pretty entertained."

For so many reasons.

Amy looked up to see Drake's expression, only to have her mouth drop when she saw skepticism written into every feature. "Don't believe me, Skip? Okay, doubting Thomas, here's another little factoid for you- I've got my batch before I started on my world tour. I've got a B.A. in Psychology with a focus on Developmental Psych. So you can believe I'm one of those crazy genius kids that got their degree before they were twenty, or you can believe that I age like a goddess. Frankly, I'm fine with either."

Then Amy watched as Drake gave a contented sign and that expression melted into one of bliss, and she felt an excited smile start to stretch out her mouth. "Oh yeah? She beat you, huh? I'll definitely have to watch it later, then." Amy's smile burst open into a grin, and Amy couldn't help but press further. "Amazing, huh? Sounds a little like you're crushing on this girl, Skip." A single eyebrow started to bounce up and down. "You gonna ask her out? You gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?"

"Too late!," chirps Drake. "Already took'er to a carnival. Had to nab'er before some other guy snatched'er up!" Not that he was particularly worried, given how things went in the ring. He was pretty confident she reciprocated his feelings, especially with their backstage chat. "But it was nice! Did the ferris wheel thing, got'er a big ol' teddybear, we had time to talk... Then..." Well, Amy doesn't need to know the deep details. So Drake skips ahead. "...I think we're gonna tag up, even though she isn't a steady Tension wrestler." He attempts to transition the yogurt fully into Amy's hands at this point. "She wrestled me as a promo-dealie. I have to get'er back. S'gonna happen."

Amy's grin reached maximum brightness. "OoooOOOOoooh, Drake, a girlfriend? And you're in bed with another woman? Scandalous!" She clutched her puce-colored hospital blanket to her chest with a horrified expression- as horrified as she could make it with her face stretched out into that obnoxious grin, anyway. "Daddy didn't raise me to be no homewrecker! You cad!" Having had her fun, Amy settled down, but not before tweaking Drake's nose. "Julia's a lucky gal. You sound like an awesome boyfriend- the giant teddy bear? Classic boyfriend move. Props." She held out a hand for a high five. "And bonus points for wanting to beat her up. Don't see that enough in men these days."

The mood was good, the timing seemed right, and the conversation was already there, so Amy asked her big burning question. "Speaking of which... when are you and I gonna fight again?"

"We're celebrities. We can't walk down the street without sparking a scandal," Drake quips matter-of-factly, going so far as to tip his chin up as though he were so above it all. But that's abandoned as soon as Amy compliments him on his boyfriend-fu - particularly when she says Julia's lucky. His cheeks tint in the faintest of rosy hues. "Aw.. well.. I guess we're both lucky, then." The sincerity in his tone adjusts into mirth as he swats his free hand into hers. Highfive achieved! "Well, she's tough. She can take it. And she's pretty hot when we're fighting, so what'm I supposed to do?" He lifts his index finger, "And, I owe'er."

Drake's no psychologist, but he can clearly see the blonde seemed hesitant about something. And when she asks, he totally knows why. He can't deny that the thought of fighting Amy again turned his insides a little. But that was probably just residual apprehension. Has to be. He has no more reason to worry, does he? Still, he can't stop that from touching his voice, "Oh, uh.. well.. I guess.. whenever?" He attempts to cover the question with a little more mirth, "You sure that wouldn't be more scandalizing? A hot young model wearing next to nothing, squeezing you, lying on you, pinning you~?"