A/N: Here is another publication from me. I have written so much about things that have happened in the past that I thought it was about time to write about things that are happening right now. So, here's my attempt at an OC/Shield fanfic.

Disclaimer: I only own my character, Chelsea. I do not own and am not affiliated with WWE in any way. All of this is spurting from my fucky mind. Additionally, this is rated as such for drug use, violence, smut, and language. Reader beware!

Prologue: Two Years Ago

The young woman knelt next to the coffee table, which had marks and scratches branding the once perfectly smooth exterior. The hotel room wasn't much better; and in fact, neither was she. She'd become just as damaged as that table. Her skin was now sullen, her muscle losing the tone she'd had. Any time she took a spill, a bruise would form quickly. She had bruises around her waist where the man had pulled her into him, leaving marks on the insides of her thighs and scratches across her lower back.

She watched pensively as the purple-haired man across from her quickly snort his line of perfect white powder, tilting his head back as his eyes watered.

"Come on, Chels, do your line. We gotta get out of here soon, otherwise people are going to suspect shit."

Chelsea quickly finished her own, falling backwards against the stained hotel couch. Her frail, nude body shivered, not only from the cold but the sudden rush she'd gotten.

"Jeff," she murmured, grabbing on to the drink she'd made earlier.

This wasn't anything new to either of them; drink a terrible rum and Coke, do some lines, have sex, maybe smoke some pot. She liked it when he'd give her his prescription Adderall, which riled her up greatly in the ring. He claimed it made him into a zombie, but it made her feel like Wonder Woman.

The man had only given her heroin only once, but she knew better than to continue with that. Her best friend from high school was seriously hooked on it now, and would do anything to keep using. She'd even lost her daughter to the state because of it. It was a vicious cycle between the two of them, and a painful one. This had been going on between the two of them for a while now.

But Chelsea also knew that this was where their relationship started and ended. Jeff used her for her body when his girlfriend was at their home in North Carolina, and she was sadly hooked on everything about this man.

"I love you," she verbalized her thought, and he just shrugged. This further proved the point, and as numb as she felt right now, she still had that jabbing heartache. She had professed her undying love to him before, and he'd never given her the response she so desperately searched for. She hated herself for wishing things would be different and for waiting around for things to change. She knew deep down they probably never would.

Jeff stood up abruptly, and took her drink from her. He extended one hand to her, and she shakily gained strength to stand.

"If we don't get back to the show now, they're going to realize we're gone," he repeated. He pulled in Chelsea for a gentle kiss, which only re-ignited the flame she'd already had for him. She felt the heartache all over again. He was the biggest asshole in the world to her, but there was a piece of him that was sweet and gentle. When she thought there was no hope, he pulled that shit.

Chelsea fumbled as she began pulling a gray thermal hoodie over her messy dyed- black hair. She giggled as she stumbled trying to put her thong and jeans on again.

She didn't bother glancing at herself in the mirror. She probably looked just as fucked up as she felt.

She trailed Jeff as he rounded the corner back to the arena. She'd already wrestled that evening, getting shit-stomped by the Glamazon, Beth Phoenix. She was glad she'd wrestled that one mostly sober, and was proud of her performance. She only had a tiny bit of what she called Magic Juice, which was just a bunch of alcohol mixed together in her small silver flask. Jeff wasn't so lucky, and would be facing Christian in just under an hour from now.

She had a definite love/hate relationship with the purple-haired highflying star. He'd offered her cocaine for the first time after she'd pulled something in her elbow, inactivating her from wrestling for three weeks. She was really down that night, and sat at the hotel bar alone, taking shots of whiskey.

She fell hard and fast, and got to know the man quickly. Sometimes it was the alcohol talking, and sometimes it was really him. But their relationship turned physical quickly with the amount of inebriation, and she let herself keep getting sucked in further and further. There was something about Jeff Hardy that kept bringing her back, even if she didn't really want to. She'd stopped hanging out with some of the other women on the roster, letting her close friendship with Natalie crumble. Even though they'd trained together, Natalie no longer spoke to the raven-haired woman. Who could blame her? Chelsea wasn't the same as she used to be. She didn't have the same life in her that she used to.

It didn't matter. She had Jeff.

A Few Months Later

"Chelsea, we're only doing this because we care about you," Stephanie McMahon sat across from the black-haired beauty. Chelsea wiped a tear from her eye, her perfect makeup now certainly ruined.

She glanced around the room, her red, watering eyes landing on a photograph of the billionaire's daughters. They all looked just like their mother. They were all beautiful, without a care in the world.

She was like that once. She was innocent, way back when. She'd worked so hard to become a diamond in the rough. She'd began her career as a model, but became bored of that quickly. She'd done most of her shoots for clothing stores such as Hot Topic. After deciding that she wanted to get a little more serious about her life, she'd turned her then 18-year-old dreams into reality, taking the money from modeling and beginning school with the Hart family, training in the ring. She'd never worked so hard in her life to go on to the NXT and, shortly after, had been added to the main roster. But all of those dreams were gone now.

"Once we found out about Jeff Hardy's drug abuse, we had to start testing randomly. You didn't pass." The older woman continued.

"I know, Stephanie, I know," sobbed Chelsea. "But I want to change."

"I want to help you. You've barely made a dent in your career. We really enjoy your performances. That's why we're going to help you with going to Forward Progress—that's one of the greatest rehabilitation centers. My dad did Mr. William Regal this favor once. He improved immensely. Please, don't disappoint me. I have faith in you, just like he did in William. When you complete the six month course, we'd like for you to start training again."

Chelsea sobbed again, thanking the woman. She'd heard stories. Stephanie McMahon was a bitch, a liar, only looking out for herself and her family.

She owed Stephanie big time.

She left the boss's office, wiping mascara from her cheeks. She felt rage burrowing into her chest; bust mostly the black abyss known as hopelessness had replaced her soul. She dialed Jeff's number quickly on her cell phone, and he answered gruffly, as though she'd just woken him up.

"Jeff, they let me go," the tears welled up in her eyes again. "They killed my dream!"

"Chelsea, knock it off. You knew what could happen," he responded, unsympathetic. Of course he was. He had no chance of coming back. This wasn't his first offense.

"I didn't expect to get caught!" she yelled into the mouthpiece, frantic.

The man chuckled on the other end.

"Listen, Chelsea. Don't call me anymore. You knew what could happen. You knew where our relationship stood. And now I'm reminding you. I'm going to clean up my act, and you should, too. I've decided to ask Beth to marry me. She makes me happy. You bring me down. You only bring me down. So let's cut the shit, and be honest here. This is the end of anything we had, or what you thought we had."

Chelsea heard the click of the phone, her stomach dropping. No, wait—she was dropping. To her knees. She wept, throwing her phone and shattering it against the brick wall. Fleeting thoughts of slitting her wrists or drowning herself in her hotel room went through her mind. But she knew that death wasn't the way that she'd get revenge on the man who had tore her into pieces.

She silently vowed that she'd prove Jeff wrong. She never brought him down! Not once! It was he who had ruined her life. He who introduced the wonderful world of drugs. Jeff was the one who broke her heart. Just like a drug, he built her up so tall and strong, that it was only a matter of time before something so simple could knock her over.

She hoped that Jeff would live with that guilt on his mind. That while he was sleeping with his soon-to-be wife, he saw Chelsea's face. Felt Chelsea's arms around his neck. Heard her call his name.

She also vowed that she would never, ever fall back into his trap again. She'd be happy. One day.

A/N: Okay, I gotta know, what do you think? I plan on adding the first chapter later tonight. I think this one is worth pursuing.