Keep Up

Chapter One

"What's the temperature right now?" Nikki asked miserably.
I tapped into the weather app on my phone. "93 degrees," I announced.
Brie and Nikki groaned as they fanned themselves with Vogue magazines. We were laying on beach chairs by the Hyatt Regency pool in Indianapolis.
"This type of weather should be illegal," Nikki whined.
"Why don't we jump in the pool?" I suggested.
"I'm not getting my hair wet," Nikki stated. She perched her cheetah print framed sunglasses on top of her head and picked off a stray lash from her eye as Brie shook her head.
"I'll swim with you," Brie offered.
"All we have to do is convince your sister," I told her. "Come on, Nikki."
"No," she said firmly. "Then I'll have to wash it and comb it out and redo it again." She unnecessarily straightened her swimsuit cover.
"I'll comb out and redo your hair," I offer. "All you have to do is wash it."
She considered this for a moment before looking over at Brie who nodded.
"Fine," she sighed. "It is hot."
I slipped my flip flops off and pull my cover off over my head, readjusting my new bikini top that I had gotten at Lane Bryant back in April.
"I know I'm gonna regret this," Nikki said as she put her magazine on top of her bag.
"Oh, shush," I playfully scolded. "Ready?"
Brie nodded while her sister shrugged.
"1...2...3!"

"Can you stop raising your voice and just listen to me."
I looked over at Nikki and Brie who were wringing out their hair. "Um, I'll meet you guys in your room," I told them. "Wash your hair."
They nodded and walked off without question. I sighed, rolling my eyes to the ceiling before slipping my room key in and tentatively walking in.
"Seth," Dean warned.
"Just hear me out for a sec," Seth reasoned.
"No," Dean said. "I can't believe you actually think that just because of what happened back at Elimination Chamber."
"That was one of the biggest matches in our careers," Seth pointed out. "And you blew that."
"I blew it!"
I walked into the living room where the miniature dining room and kitchenette were off to the side. Seth and Dean were in the dining room. I felt exposed just out in the open so I scooted over to the wall.
"And do I need to remind you that we won our match against Evolution at Extreme Rules," Dean reminded Seth. "Not to mention that we beat them again last night."
Seth sighed. "That doesn't mean anything," he said. "They still expose our cracks even more and make us turn on each other."
Dean frowned. "We don't turn on each other."
Seth clamped his mouth shut, averting his eyes.
Dean pulled a hand through his hair. "You need to stop worrying, okay? Our business with Evolution is done. We came out on top. Why aren't you happy? And really, who are you to even talk when people think you're the weak link of the group?"
"Okay, you guys," I intercepted, stepping in between them. "That's enough."
"Look, what I'm saying is-"
"What you're saying is crap," Dean interrupted. "Get out, because I really feel like punching you, but I can't because Chelsea's here and the way I'm feeling right now, I'll just start swinging and I won't care who or what I hit."
Seth rolled his eyes. "Dean-"
"Get. Out!"
"Fine," Seth scoffed. "Whatever."
"Yeah, I got your whatever," Dean mumbled as Seth padded to the door.
"All I'm saying is The Shield isn't what is was before," Seth explained in a low voice. "Maybe we should put this to rest."
Dean bared his teeth and quickly grabbed the lamp from the small table beside the couch.
"Dean!" I screamed but it was already airborne.
Seth's eyes widened and he quickly closed the door behind himself, the lamp shattering against that. Dean turned his back on the heap as I stated at it wide-eyed.
"Okay," I muttered, taking a deep breath. "You are certifiably insane. Now we have to pay for a lamp that isn't even ours."
He ignored that comment and proceeded toward the fridge where he yanked a beer bottle out of its six-pack container and popped the top.
"Ah, ah, ah," I said, taking it out of his hand. I walked over to the sink and poured the contents down the drain, chasing it away with the tap water. Dean scowled even harder as he watched.
"Drinking your problems away doesn't solve anything," I told him. "You know that, right?" He just shrugged. "What happened?"
"Have you talked to my mom lately?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
I glared at him. Mrs. Good was a little over two months-ten weeks to be exact-pregnant with her last child. Although Dean and his mom weren't on the best of terms, he tolerated her and sometimes helped her when we were in Cincinnati. I felt like Dean's relationship with his dad, however, is forever broken.
"Yes," I answered flatly. "I told you I talked to her last night."
"Oh," he said.
"What were you guys fighting about this time?" I questioned tiredly. "It seems as if every time I turn around, you guys are going at it."
"It doesn't matter," Dean mumbled.
I sighed, pulling a hand through my hair. "What is so wrong about talking this stuff with me?" I asked. "There's really no point in keeping stuff from me. I always find out sooner or later."
He closed his eyes, taking a breath. "You really wanna know?" he questioned rhetorically. "Fine, Seth thinks I'm dragging the group under."
I scratched my ear, not sure I heard him correctly. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Exactly," Dean said. "He has some nerve."
"You're dragging The Shield under?" I asked, pointing at him.
He nodded.
"All that crap he was dishing out about the Wyatts is, like, 3 months too late and he wants to bring it up now." He scoffed, shaking his head.
"I understand how that would make you upset," I told him. "But that doesn't mean you can just go and chuck ten pound lamps around like they're baseballs. Violence isn't the answer." He raised one of his eyebrows at me. "For your information, I haven't beaten any body up for talking bad about me in, like, weeks."
He rolled his eyes as a knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?" Dean called out as he walked over to the door.
"Roman." Dean opened up. "Hey," Roman greeted as he started to step in.
"Watch for the glass," I warned.
Ronan's eyes drifted downward, but he didn't seem surprised by the heap.
"Seth?" he asked as he stepped over and closed the door as Dean plopped down on the couch.
"Yep," Dean stated blankly.
"Isn't he insane?" I asked Roman, but he shook his head at me.
"I did the same thing not too long ago with the same lamp," Roman said.
"What is with you guys and lamps?" I questioned in disbelief. "Is that, like, your go-to weapon?"
They ignored me. "So what did Seth say to you?" Dean asked.
"That I was thinking too highly of myself and that I've been putting myself before The Shield," Roman replied.
"What is wrong with him?" I questioned. "It's like he's trying to break The Shield up."
"Maybe he is," Roman said, but I shook my head.
"No," I insisted. "You guys have been together since day one. He wouldn't do that. I know him."
"Good, because we don't and we were hoping you would give us some insight," Dean said.
I pulled a loose thread off my cover. "Look, I'll go talk to him, okay?" I suggested. "But just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." I gave Dean a pointed look. He leaned away from me, offended.
I knocked on Seth and Roman's hotel door. "Who is it?" Seth snapped from the other side.
"It's me," I called out and within seconds, the door banged opened.
"What do you want?" Seth asked with less hostility as he turned away from me and headed into his room.
"I want to know what's going with you," I told him, following. I plopped down on the foot of his bed as he grabbed his duffel from the closet. "Where's all this coming from? What, with you telling Dean that he's bringing down The Shield and Roman that his head has gotten too big. Why are you saying all of this stuff so suddenly?"
He glanced at me over his shoulder as he grabbed some clothes from his dresser before turning away.
"You guys just got off of a huge win," I said happily. "What's with the attitude?"
He sighed and turned around. "Things aren't the same anymore," he explained. "The Shield and the people in it aren't the same. We're falling apart."
"No, you aren't," I insisted. "I don't know what's making you feel that way, but you're wrong. There's nothing wrong with The Shield. I think you just want something to be wrong so that you can move on. Is that it?"
He swallowed, not responding.
"Seth," I said in a quiet, serious tone, "do you or do you not want to be in The Shield?"
He turned his head away, still staying silent.
"You're so ungrateful," I told him. "Roman and Dean have done nothing but have your back since day one and this is how you repay them?"
Seth's gaze drifted toward my face and it was like something happened in the last couple of seconds that changed his whole features, making him unrecognizable.
"I think I need to go," I said after a while of tense silence. "I can't be here right now."
"Chelsea, wait," Seth said, catching my arm as I walked past him. "Hear me out."
"I don't want to hear you out," I replied. "You're silence has done enough talking for you."
I snatched my arm away and marched out of the hotel room, making sure to slam the door behind me as I stepped out into the hallway.

"Ow!"
"Stop moving, Nikki," Brie told her sister.
"Well, sorry for being nervous," Nikki said, defensively. "I only let professionals do my hair."
"So you mean to tell me you've never let your friends do you hair at sleepovers," I said.
"Yep," Nikki replied. "That's Brie that'll get her hair done by anyone."
"Not just anyone," Brie reasoned as she painted a clear coat on top of her fingernails. Miami Pink was her signature color now. "Some people don't know how to do hair."
"And besides, I'm almost done," I told Nikki as I curled a piece of her hair at the end.
"Well, me and Brie are heading to Vogue after the show. You and the guys want to come?"
I shook my head as I curled another piece of hair. "The guys wanna tear each other apart when they're sober. Add alcohol to the fray and someone's going to the hospital," I explained.
"Well at least think about it," Nikki said. "And maybe it can just be us. I don't think we've ever had a Chick Night."
I shrugged. "Yeah, I'll think about it." I put the flat iron down on the rag and fluffed Nikki's hair up some. "I'm done," I told her. "Look in the mirror."
Nikki got up off the bed and went into the bathroom.
"Wow," I heard Nikki say. She peeked her head through the doorway. "This is nice."
"Thank you," I replied, giving a little bow.

When I got back to the room, Dean was packing up for the Bankers Life Fieldhouse.
"Hey," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Hey." It sounded like he was slurring slightly.
"You okay?" I asked. I turned his face to me to see his eyes were a little glassy. "Dean," I said slowly. "Did you drink a beer?"
"No," he scoffed. "I didn't drink a beer."
I widened my eyes and bolted to the fridge. The six-pack was still there as were the bottles. I picked one up....empty. I grabbed another. And another. The remaining five beer bottles didn't have a drop in them anymore.
"JONATHAN ADRIAN LEE GOOD!"
"Oh come on," Dean said, stumbling into the kitchen. "It's not that big of a deal."
"The show is two hours away,"
I said, forcing myself to calm down. "You are going to get yourself fired if Steph and Hunter know that you've been drinking before work."
He waved his hand at me dismissively. "They're not going to do anything," he assured.
I bit my lip hard, my top row of teeth showing, something my mom did to calm herself before she yelled. Instead of speaking, though, I turned away and started to make coffee.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked. I ignored him and pressed the button to brew. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin against my shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Your head's heavy," I mumbled tersely, shrugging him off.
"Oh, come on, Chels," Dean said, leaning against the sink. "So I had a couple of beers. It's no big deal."
"It is a big deal," I snapped, spinning around. "You weren't...supposed...to touch them."
He shrugged. "You didn't say so."
I ran my hands down the sides of my face. "I'm done talking to you right now," I told him before turning back to the coffeemaker. I took deep breaths.
Calm down, I thought. Maybe I'm blowing this out of proportion.
When the coffee was done, I filled a mug and handed it to him. He whined. "Do I have to?" he asked in a childish voice.
I raised one of my eyebrows at him making him huff in irritation. He took a big gulp and looked at me expectantly. "Happy now?"
I ignored the snarky question and crossed my arms over my chest.
"Hurry up," I snapped. "We have to get ready."