Author's note: Okay. I'm just too obsessed with Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose and I had to write down this story that came up to my mind. Hope you're going to like it even just half the way I'm loving writing it.
Just some informations before you get your head in the reading:
-I'm Italian, so English isn't my first language. I'm trying to do my best to translate it, but if there are any grammatical mistakes or other kind of mistakes, feel free to let me know: I'd really like to improve my English knowledge;
-The title of the story, "Anything but Ordinary" comes from a song by Avril Lavigne. The lyrics are quoted in this first chapters and many part of it will eventually be used as chapters' name. If you have never listened it, go search it on youtube: it's really amazing and it's the thing that inspired this entire story;
-Obviously (and sadly!) I do not own Dean Ambrose or other of the WWE Superstars that will be mentioned in this story. I own just the female protagonist (I'm not telling her name yet, you'll find out during the story :3) and some other original characters you could easily figure out.
-There will be strong languages, violence and sex scenes.
And that's all: enjoy!
1. Hey Little Fighter
Las Vegas was certainly one of the most noisy and full of life cities in the world, especially overnight. But, when he came back home, Jonathan Good preferred to stay away from the chaos of the capital of entertainment. The only thing he needed, in his days off from the WWE tours, was to be in tranquility with himself. He liked life on the road, rather to be honest, he profoundly loved it, he almost revered it. It was the only thing he had dreamed to do since ever and its realization couldn't have made him anything but complete and satisfied; but he had to admit, at least with himself, that, sometimes, it was stressful being always on the road and not be allowed to take a break or a day just for himself and his own problems. Sometimes, he had so many things to do, he could barely listen to his own thoughts.
But there was a place Jon loved to visit, every time he came back home. He had found it by chance, but now it was so familiar to him to make him feel at ease and it was able to free him from any kind of worries. When Jon entered that little and friendly pub, he left outside the door each and every uncomfortable thoughts and he just enjoyed a simple soiree with live music, soft lighting and a glass of his favorite liquor.
And that night, returning from European tour, hadn't made exception.
He had a week off and, once home, he had thrown the suitcases in a corner, he had had a long, refreshing shower and had gone out, direct toward "The Discordant Note".
The atmosphere was foggy and soft as always: sitting at the bar, with his customary glass of liquor, Jon looked around. Being a place that couldn't contain a large number of people, it was always very quiet and relaxing and it was for this that he loved to spend there his free evenings. There were few round tables, occupied by groups of guys and girls, and a little stage on the right, on which usually some local bands performed.
However, that evening, the stage had been left to free use of everyone who wanted to perform: karoke night, for Jon's joy.
He loved live music, but just when it was of good quality or, at least, catchy. The girls, who were on the stage right now, were killing his poor ears with a terrible version of Bad Romance.
Jon snorted and tosses off the liquor, motioning the barman to fill his glass again: they could not ask him to attend to that slaughter and do it sober!
He could have come back home, of course… but he had any desire to come back to his empty apartment, it made him feel a strange kind of internal melancholy to which he preferred not to think about, in that moment.
Jon had never been a kind of guy particularly sociable or who had a lot of friends: his passion for wrestling had brought him to travel on completely different paths from those his childhood playmates had taken and, having travelled from one federation to another, he had never had the chance to forge lasting and solid bonds. Now, in WWE, things were getting better: Joe and Colby – known on-ring as Roman Reigns and Seth Rollins – were slowly filling the emptiness there was in his life, but they could not fill it completely, and the cold he felt inside could never be entirely dissipated.
Wrestling was the only thing that made him feel alive: enter the ring, play Dean Ambrose, entertain fans… yeah, he loved that.
He was wrestling.
So, it was quite normal that, when he came back home, away from the ring, away from action and spotlights… away from Dean Ambrose, he felt the cold coming back to tighten his heart.
He banished those thoughts from his mind, while the two girls finally got off the stage, leaving to his ears the possibility of enjoying again the silence, interrupted only by the chatter in the background.
There was a group of guys particularly noisy on his left and, grabbing the glass, again full of liquor, Jon turned to consider them with an annoyed gaze.
« Are you serious, sweetie bitchy? You really wanna sing? » one of them was shouting, his arm rested around the shoulders of the girl to whom he was referring to.
« Yeah, why not? What's so weird? » she answered, shaking him off.
The group burst out laughing and Jon wasn't sure if someone had said something funny or if they were simply too drunk to understand what was going on.
The girl stood up and Jon noticed she was the only woman in the group.
« Oh, you're just a douchebag! » she blurted out annoyed « I'm going to sing! »
« Yeah, yeah, go ahead! Let's see how you move your beautiful, little mouth in front of a long pole!» another guy shouted and the others burst out laughing again dumb.
She raised the eyes to the sky and shook the head.
« Hey! Watch your mouth, you're talking about my girlfriend, pay respect! » the first guy said.
When she was about to leave, he roughly grabbed her by the elbow and forced her to fall on him. He tightened her and, without ceremony, he pushed his tongue in her mouth. Their dumb friends laughed and wolf-whistled.
Jon snorted and turned his back on them: he hated those pathetic scenes, he hated men who treated women like objects - even though, in many occasions, he was the first one to behave like that, but that was a completely different story - and he hated even more women who hadn't enough self-respect to rebel against them.
« You're a dick! » he heard her yelling, but he did not turn to see what was going on.
Meanwhile, a middle-age man had taken the stage and had started singing a rock version of James Blunt's "You're Beautiful", to the woman who was clearly his wife.
Music filled the local and Jon listened it gladly, both because that man wasn't bad at all and because, at least, he wouldn't have heard those idiots behind him.
When he had finished to drink also his second glass of liquor and was about to pay and leave, the girl he had seen before took the stage.
Jon paid and got up, convinced it wasn't worth to stay just to listen her, but, at last, there was something that held him.
Listen to the first ten seconds wouldn't have killed him for sure and, moreover, it was just 11.30 p.m., he could give himself at least another half an hour before coming back home and crashing on the pillow.
The girl took an acoustic guitar and sat on the stool, lowering the microphone to have it in front of her mouth.
Observing her, even if in the semi-darkness of the local, Jon noticed she had long hair and she was very minute. Her skin was milky, but he had no idea if it was just because of the local's lights or if she was really that pale. She was wearing a clear-colored, light dress and a jeans jacket. In sum, she seemed quite nice: she wasn't of one of those beauties which made you turn around down the street, but she was pretty.
She cleared her throat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then she started to play the guitar.
« Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
I laugh myself to sleep
It's my lullaby.
Sometimes I drive so fast
Just to feel the danger
I wanna scream
It makes me feel alive. »
Jon had to admit she had really a beautiful voice: it wasn't stylistically perfect, but it was enjoyable to listen. He sat down again.
« Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please. »
She put passion in every single word and he was profoundly struck by it: she seemed to be telling a story through that song.
He wondered if she was telling her story.
« To walk within the lines
Would make my life so boring
I want to know that
I have been to the extreme
So knock me off my feet
Come on now give it to me
Anything to make me feel alive! »
She was smiling, but her eyes never shone. There was a lost haze in them… there was nearly sufferance in her irises and it made him wonder why, now, while she was singing, that girl seemed to be so sad… and alone.
She had chosen an odd song to sing. He had never heard it before, even if he was sure it was a cover, because the girls at the table nearest the stage had sang the chorus along her. Though, there was something deeper in the way she was playing it… something that made his stomach knotted.
"I want to know that I have been to the extreme."
That phrase, then, had particularly hit him and without a specific reason. Maybe, he saw himself in it more than he was willing to admit.
His eyes reached hers which, almost spontaneously, locked with his with that melancholy smile.
"Come on now give it to me anything to make me feel alive."
« Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life
I'd rather be anything but ordinary please
I'd rahter be anything but ordinary please. »
The local had turned into a dark and confused spot. Driven just by the voice of that girl, each sense of him was concentrated on her and on that smile which seemed to hide all the sadness of the world.
Jon had never seen a smile sadder than that in his whole life.
« Let down your defences
Use no common sense
If you look you will see
That this world is this beautiful
Accident, turbulent, suculent
I'm feeling permanent
No way I won't taste it
Dont wanna waste it away
Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
I laugh myself to sleep
It's my lullaby!
Is it enough?
Is it enough?
Is it enough to love?
Is it enough to breath?
Somebody rip my heart out
And leave me here to bleed
Is it enough to die?
Somebody save my life »
Now he was definitely sure she was looking right at him as she yelled those words.
Somebody save my life.
It seemed more an ask for help than a sing to gladden the audience.
Jon couldn't handle it anymore: that strange atmosphere, which had created around them, was suffocating him.
He stood up with an angry gesture, took the leather jacket and went out without even waiting for her to finish the song.
There was just that phrase which pealed in his head.
Somebody save my life.
The cold air of the night made him feel immediately better. He leaned against the wall outside the pub, ran one hand through his hair, lit a cigarette and took a long drag, which quickly burned half of the laid paper. While he slowly breathed the smoke out, he wondered what the hell had happened to him.
It was just a song, for fuck's sake!
He had to be tired, there were no other explanations: European tour had been long, hard and stressful, it was quite normal he did not feel in full control of his emotions.
Jon closed his eyes and rested the head against the wall behind him, bringing the cigarette to his lips again.
Someone opened the door of the local, but he did not care about who had gone outdoors.
« Come on, motherfucker: power on! » he heard someone cursing and he realized it was a girl.
He opened one eye offhandedly and glanced at her: she was giving him the back, but he recognized her anyway.
It was the same girl who had sang before.
She was arguing with her phone. Jon ignored her and closed his eyes again: with the luck he always had, she could easily be a wrestling fan. It just lacked that she turned around and…
" Sierra. Hotel. India. Echo. Lima. Delta. SHIELD."
Jon opened wide his eyes while his heart jumped in his throat.
What the hell…?
That was…
« Yeah, here I am! » the girl said, answering the phone « I was inside before. There's a crazy guy who's singing Marylin Manson, I could not hear you… No, no… Yep, I'm in a pub… Yeah, in Las Vegas. No… No, B. everything is alright, really. Yeah, I know you're worried about me, but… B. NO! I'm not coming back home, resign yourself! No, sorry… it's just… I'm a little tipsy, I guess… No, just one beer… Okay, maybe they were two, but it's not the point… No, B. No… I'm not alone… No, there's Call with me. You know I'm with him now. Oooooh… I've had enough of you! No, I told you, I'm fucking great! But… Fuck you, okay? FUCK YOU!»
The girl abruptly interrupted the conversation, then let out a cry of rage and threw the phone to the ground.
Jon stared at her without knowing what to do.
A part of him wanted to help her, but… what could he do?
Maybe it was better to leave her alone.
The girl hunkered down and picked up the phone, trying to reassemble the pieces.
He heard her breathing slow, almost at times.
Was she… crying?
Oh, for God's sake!
Jon snorted, took the last drag from his cigarette, then he threw it on the ground and reached her, who was still crouched. He gently rested one hand on her shoulder.
« Hey… »
The girl winced scared: it was clear she hadn't noticed him before.
She quickly stood up and turned to face him, both her hands raised in a sort of guard position that took him by surprise.
« Calm down, little fighter. I don't wanna hurt ya. » he said defensively, showing the palms of his hands.
She looked at him for a long instant, as she was contemplating if trust him or not.
Jon stared at her in return: the hair, that now he could see being of a very light brown, almost auburn, framed her face disorderly; tears shone on her red cheeks, but now her eyes were serious and clean, as if being in front of him had given her back the necessary pride to stop crying; her skin was really so pale as it had seemed before.
At last, she seemed to decide to trust him, because she lowered her hands and took a deep breath.
« Sorry. » she murmured, running one hand through her hair « You just took me by surprise. »
Jon shrugged and a hint of a smile bent his lips.
« No problem, it's my fault, I guess. You don't sneak up to a girl in that way, not overnight and not in a alley.»
He was able to let her smile.
She was cuter when she smiled.
« I just thought that… well, that you needed help. Ya seemed to be in trouble. » he added gingerly.
She looked at him from below with a strange gaze, then she giggled.
Jon frowned.
« Sorry… » she repeated between chuckles « I'm just a little bit tipsy, I guess. » and, to confirm those her words, she hiccupped lightly « Indeed!» she said with another laugh « Maybe it's better for me to come back inside.»
She was about to return in the local, when she felt suddenly dizzy because of the alcohol and she stumbled in her own shoes. She staggered and fell forward, directly on Jon's chest. He promptly grabbed her to avoid her from falling.
« Hey, ya sure ya can come back inside on your own feet? » he asked, while she hanged on his arms to restore her balance.
When she raised her face, her cheeks were even more red and her eyes – which were of a very light shade of brown – had a lost and sheepish expression.
« Ops… » she murmured.
Jon was about to ask her again if she was sure she could come back inside without killing herself, but she interrupted him.
« You know what? » she said, giggling.
Jon sighed and bowed his head to look at her.
« What? »
She bent her face, as she wanted to study him from another point of view, and she bit her bottom lip.
« You look a lot like a WWE wrestler, you know? Yeah, you look a lot like Dean Ambrose! » she exclaimed, then she burst out laughing again.
Jon opened wide his eyes surprised, but he said anything: he had understood she was a fan from the ringtone of her phone, but he didn't feel like having to do with one of his admirers that night, not with one who was in that pitiful state.
« Mmm. » it was the only thing he said, bowing his head to let his hair hide his eyes and make him less recognizable.
She giggled and tried to pull away from him, but when she realized she couldn't stand on her legs, she hanged again on his arms, which muscles tensed under her thin fingers.
Jon sighed and held her by the shoulders.
« Ya sure they were just two beers? » he murmured, contemplating if he should take her inside, from those douches of her friends, or if he should just leave her there and go home.
« Uh? » she asked, clearly confused « Whatcha doing, you eavesdrop my phone conversation, now?» he accused him, frowning « They're private things, you know?»
« Not to disappoint ya, little fighter, but ya yelled so loudly that even people in China have heard ya.»
She gave him a slight blow on his chest.
« You're a dick! » she blurted out, looking at him with angry air.
Free insults… he wasn't waiting for anything better.
Jon raised his eyes to the sky… maybe it was better if he simply left her there.
« But I forgive you… » she murmured, forcing him to return to look at her.
She had now lowered her face and kept her eyes fixed on the ground.
She seemed sad again, as he had seen her while she was singing on the stage.
A knot returned to tighten the pit of his stomach.
« You know why I forgive you? » she asked shy.
« No, but I guess you're going to tell me. »
She raised her face and showed him a soft smile that, for the first time, arrived to light up her eyes.
Jon felt his heart missing a beat.
When she smiled in that way, her face changed and she was… stunning.
« I forgive you just because you look like Dean Ambrose! » she said with a sheepish chuckle « I like Dean Ambrose. » she asserted, nodding vigorously.
Jon could not suppress the smile that rose spontaneously on his lips.
« Come on, little fighter: I bring ya back to your friends. » he sighed, starting to drive her toward the entrance of the pub.
But, suddenly, she jerked him and pulled away. He stared at her puzzled.
« I don't need you to accompany me! » she said offended « I don't need you! I need no one! I stand by myself!»
And, without giving him the chance to replicate, she turned around, opened the door of the local and went inside.
That girl was completely crazy.
Jon shook his head, not knowing how to feel. He decided he didn't care enough to find it out, so he turned, ready to come back home: that absurd night could definitely have an end.
He did not have time to take a step, that the door of the local had been opened again and someone softly grabbed him by an arm.
Somehow, when he turned around, he wasn't surprised at all to be again in front of the same girl.
He did not know if he should have been irritated or amused, if he should fuck her off or smile.
She was weird… she muddled his ideas, already foggy because of the two glasses of liquor and of the tiredness.
She looked at him with a shy smile and bright eyes, so he just didn't feel like treat her badly.
« Yeah? » he asked instead, attentive.
« Nothing, I just wanted to thank you… for getting worried about me. No one ever do it. So, thank you, Dean Ambrose! »
She reached him and went on tiptoes. Then she seemed to ponder over something, she bit her lip, smiled sadly and gestured him with an hand, as she wanted him to come closer.
She seemed to want to whisper something in his ear, so he sighed and lowered until his face was at the same level of hers.
The girl looked at him in the eyes, then she smiled of that beautiful smile that made his chest hurt. She came closer and, unexpectedly, she gave him a peck on his lips.
Then, like nothing had happened, she turned around.
« Bye, bye Dean. » she said, waving the hand like a little girl and returning into the local.
Jon stood still for few minutes, still leaned forward and with his eyes wide open… the taste of her soft lips on his.
Okay: that was definitely the most weird night he had ever lived.