Title: They don't really care about us My Michael Jackson

Author: Sweet Steffie

Rating: PG 13 (violence, paranoia, language, slight sexual situations.

Character: in this chapter Christian a.k.a. Jason Reso

Summary: A series dedicated to the very talented and very UNDERRATED wrestlers of the WWE, past and present.

Note: A song fic series from the song by Michael Jackson. This was inspired while I was watching RAW and how badly the lower card wrestlers are being used.

Note: For certain chapters, I am going to try to keep the storyline the way it was played out on tv, just slightly changing some things like opponents etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fic.

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CHAPTER 1: Christian.

~*~Skin head, dead head. Everybody gone bad~*~

~*~Situation, aggravation. Everybody allegation~*~

~*~In the suite, on the news. Everybody dog food~*~

~*~Bang bang, shot dead. Everybody's gone mad~*~

Jason Reso ran a hand through his now short blond hair as he eyed himself in the mirror. It was odd for him, running his fingers through hair that was barely there. He was so used to have long locks, that he somehow found it weird that it was suddenly gone. It way seem weird, but he now felt a little naked. It did take him 12 years to grow it out, and now it was gone.

And why was it gone? Simple; management ordered him to. Jay thought that their reasons were stupid. One said that it got in the way in the ring, others said it was the style of today. But if that were so, then why didn't they approach Chris Irvine, his best friend and on-air brother Adam, or dare he even say Paul about this problem? That answer was even more simple. Those 3 were the top male wrestlers, don't dare even suggest such a silly thing. But yet, Jay did not have the choice. He had to do what management told him.

And even though he didn't want to admit it, he actually kind of liked the haircut, but he still missed those long golden locks. He dug his fingers in the jar of gel that stood in front of him and took out a huge hunk. He rubbed his hands together and was about to run it through his hair, when he noticed something. "You idiot, you don't need that much anymore," he said. He carefully scraped some back into the jar and ran his gel covered hands through his hair.

He picked up the brush to comb it through, but he then again noticed that he didn't need that either. What was he going to comb anyway? He eyed the brush in his hand for a moment and then carelessly through it over his shoulder. "Won't be needing that anymore," he mumbled. He looked in the mirror and tried to spike his hair a little. He cursed under his breath when he couldn't find a proper way to style his hair. "This is harder than I thought," he sighed.

Finally finding a satisfying look, he picked up his Intercontinental Championship Belt that he had won the night before and headed to the ring, ready for his speech and trying to sell his new "PEEP" image to the crowd.

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~*~All I wanna say is that~*~

~*~They don't really care about us~*~

~*~All I wanna say is that~*~

~*~They don't really care about us~*~

Jay hissed in pain as he held his ribs, backing himself even further on the bench. His ribs and abandons hurt like hell, and the cut above his eye was starting to sting. "Fuck," he yelled when the medic put a stinging antiseptic on his wound. He slapped the hand away, flinging his face to the side. "Mr. Reso, please let me help you," the medic said again. Jay clenched his teeth and nearly howled in pain as he let the male attend to his wound.

After 10 minutes the medic cleared him and told him he could take a shower. Jay sighed and jumped off the bench, heading to his dressing room. He hoped that nobody was in the locker room, he wanted to shower in peace. Unlike people like The Rock, Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Jay had to share his locker room. Not that he minded, he always enjoyed a good laugh with the guys while they were changing instead of a dead silence.

Grateful that the room really was empty, Jay kicked off his boots and dropped his IC title onto the floor. Damn he was tired, and he was soar. And there was actually no need for him to be soar. According to the script, Jay had to go out there and put on his arrogant Christian persona, give his speech and then Randy Orton was to come out, give in his two cents and sucker punch him. Unfortunately the rookie who had grown an ego thanks to the likes of Triple H, changed his mind and unexpectedly gave Jay a RKO without telling him before hand.

With the Championship over his shoulder, Jay's left eye landed on the edge, causing him to get cut. "Stupid rookie," he mumbled to himself. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it carelessly onto the floor, not really caring where it went. Jay growled in frustration when he remembered that he was rooming with Booker T tonight. Although Booker was a good friend of him, that meant that Jay would have to ride with him after the show, and Booker had to stay after the show for some photo shoot. All Jay wanted to do was go straight to the hotel, but no, he had to wait for Booker. He violently took his towel and went to take a shower.

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~*~Tell me what has become of my rights~*~

~*~Am I invisible because you ignore me?~*~

~*~Your proclamation promised me free liberty~*~

~*~I'm tired of being the victim of shame~*~

~*~They're throwing me in a class with a bad name~*~

~*~I can't believe this is the land from which I came~*~

~*~You know I do really hate to say it~*~

~*~The government don't wanna see~*~

~*~But if Roosevelt was living, he wouldn't let this be~*~

Fully clothed and almost ready to go, Jay sat on the bench, gathering the last of his things. He hummed a nice little song as he folded his dirty clothes and placed them in a plastic bag. "Another day, another humiliation," he mumbled to himself. But it was true. Even though management finally gave him a decent push, he still seemed to be so weak. First, he had to cheat to get the title. The way it was played on TV, Booker was supposed to win the title, but they wanted the heel Christian to win.

Jay was thankful that he was pushed, he got a title outside the tag team cycle and now he got paid more. And Jay did like the whole heel persona, but he disliked so many factors. Sure, he couldn't control who the crowd favored more, but he was rather upset with the whole way his angles were going. First the whole jealousy angle with Adam, and the temper tantrums were ridiculously embarrassing. He enjoyed working with DDP, but the whole tantrum with was so not needed in his opinion.

Jay sighed as he picked up the brush he threw away a few hours ago. He eyes the brush and then sighed, shoving it in the bag as well. "Memories," he laughed to himself. Finally he picked up his belt and inspected the gold plated shrine. He traced his name with his finger, a slight yet sad smirk crossing his face. He had gotten the belt, but surely he was going to have to drop it someone in the very near future. And if he did keep it, he would probably keep regaining it by cheating, as the writers loved to do that to him.

"I'm probably going to have to job to some punk like Orton," he mumbled to himself. It was obviously that Jay did not like the new comer. No doubt that Orton had potential. But seeing that they got more pushes than everybody else, it went straight to their heads. Brock Lesnar was proof of that. Jay just wished that he could drop his title fairly in an incredible match. Maybe a ladder match, that what he was famous for, or a submission match or a cage match. And he hoped it was to someone like RVD, Jericho or Benoit. Jay admired them and they were his friends.

But he doubt that would happen. Management always favored what Paul wanted, and being married to the boss' daughter did give him a whole lot of power. No surprise if Orton was gonna get a major title push. Dave and Ric already had the tag team belts, what was stopping them from getting him a title as well.

Forcing himself to relax, he got up and headed to the parking lot, where he told Booker he would be waiting.

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~*~All I wanna say is that they don't really care about us~*~

~*~All I wanna say is that they don't really care about us~*~

~*~Some things in life they just don't wanna see~*~

~*~But if Martin Luther was living~*~

~*~He wouldn't let this be~*~

Jay let out a deep sigh as he leaned against the door of the car. Flipping out a pack of cigarettes, he pushed one into his mouth and lit it. Taking in a deep puff, he looked out in front of him, enjoying the sensation that the cigarette was giving him. Jay didn't really smoke, but when he did, he enjoyed every minute of it. His body was still a little soar and his cut still stung, but he didn't care, he had been through worse. Ladder matches and tables matches were far worse than a lame stiff move by a rookie.

"I though I made it clear that I didn't like it when you smoked," a female voice said. Jay smiled at her sound and quickly threw the cigarette on the concrete floor, stomping it out with his shoe. "I didn't think you would see me," he teased, turning his head to look at her. The blond arched an eyebrow up and walked towards him.

"I don't like to kiss a mouth full of nicotine," she said. Jay grabbed her by her hips and pulled him to her. She gladly obliged, her hips leaning against his and her chest pressed to his. "So I guess I don't get a kiss tonight," he pouted. She smiled and reached into her bag and took out a small pack of breath mints. "Here, pop on in your mouth and hurry up, because I want to kiss you," she said, an impatient look on her face. He smiled and did just that, throwing the little ball in his mouth.

"Trish, you really are too much," he said. She smiled, and played with the collar of his shirt. "Is it really so bad that I want to kiss you?" she asked, biting her lower lip. Jay shook his head, smiling at the tiny blond. "Does it hurt?" she asked, tracing the plaster that was on his head with her finger. Jay shook his head, still sucking on the candy. "Not really, the medicine just stings," he said. Trish sighed and traced his eyebrow. "That was really wrong of Randy, giving you a RKO without even telling you. And of course he is not getting any heat because of Paul," she groaned.

"I just hope you don't have to job to him," she admitted. Jay smiled and wiped away a strand of her blond hair. "Me too, I want to drop it to Booker," he sighed. Trish nodded an ran her fingers through his short hair. "I like it," she said with a smile. "Much better than Andrew's or Billy Kidman's," she added. Jay laughed. "As long as you don't cut yours I'm happy," he said. Trish laughed but than frowned. "I hope you don't job to Randy," she added.

Jay let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around her slim waist. "Don't worry, one day he will screw up bad enough for him not to safe from Paul," he said. She nodded, her eyes locked on his neck. "How much time do we have together this week?" he asked. Trish hummed and looked at him. "I have the BABE of the Year shoot to do tomorrow and some autograph sessions, but tonight you are at my mercy. You are staying in my room tonight because Jacqueline agreed to change with me so she could do the same thing to Booker that I am going to do with you," she said with a smirk.

Jay smirked as well, an evil glint in his eye. He was happy that she had one BOTY 3 times in a row. He was so happy that she was one of the top divas that no longer needed to be a sex toy. "Are you finished with that mint yet?" she pouted, nearly jumping up and down.

Jay nodded his head, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue so that she could inspect. After a few moments she nodded her head, signaling that inspection was complete. "Good boy," she said and crashed her lips to him. Jay laughed against her mouth and quickly gave in, returning the friendly gesture. "Tonight you are going to show me why you are the main even in my book," Trish said. Jay laughed and kissed her again.

~*~All I wanna say is that~*~

~*~They don't really care about us~*~

~*~All I wanna say is that~*~

~*~They don't really care about us~*~

THE END

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A weird idea I had. Liked it? Hated it? Tell me about it.

Next chapters will include such stars as Molly, Ivory, Hurricane, Jacqueline, Bradshaw, Jeff hardy, Brett Hart (yes you heard me right! Brett!) Kevin Nash.

Any request of a star? Then tell me about it.

Steffie