Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Happy (kind of) belated Birthday, Hailey! You're a pain in the ass but you get a gift anyway, hehe. Enjoy!
He remembered the first time he ever saw her play guitar. Even now, he still joked that she loved that thing more than she loved him. She was playing in the arena parking lot, her feet dangling from the car door while she strummed a song gently, her hair fluttering in the wind. Mike knew how bad he sucked, even as he learned, so he appreciated any decent playing. But, he also knew better than stopping in a parking lot before a show; the WWE fans were crazy.
Mike continued to walk with his luggage until he heard her start singing softly. He stopped right there once more and turned around. "What the hell am I doing?" he murmured.
She continued to play a song, her voice frustrated as the guitar didn't meet what her brain had planned. "STUPID GUITAR!" she yelled, setting it down much gentler than her words. "God. I just want to make that song work."
"It wasn't half bad."
Her back was still to him. "Yeah, whatever."
"No, really. You were doing well until the last few notes. Why don't you try down a key?"
The girl was obviously growing agitated by his presence. "And who the hell are you to tell me this?" As she flipped around, her eyes grew wide and he was sure he had encountered a fan.
"Oh, just no one important," he smirked. "But hey, try that. It could work."
She had watched him walk away, star struck and annoyed with herself. The Miz, one of her favorite wrestlers, had just given her advice and she had practically spit back in his face. "Just for once," she muttered, "I would like to say something right."
-
After the WWE house show, the girl walked over with some friends to where the wrestlers were exiting. There were screams for the likes of John Cena—who was not going to stop—and screams for divas (and naughty words for that as well). Who came from below the decks however received boos.
"THE MIZ SUCKS!" a drunken fan yelled. "GO HOME!"
"Why don't you?" Miz fired back. He began to walk, smiling to himself when he saw the blonde-haired girl standing there, her mouth a tight smile. It was clear to him that she wanted to be like her friends and yell to him, but found herself remembering that afternoon. "Well if it isn't guitar girl."
"Guitar girl?" one of her friends squeaked. "You know him?"
"No," the girl said, face pained. "I don't."
"Hailey!" the friend whined. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Hailey glared at the friend and then turned her attention back to the Miz. "Do you have a problem?" she asked nicely—and much too fake to ever be true. "Go be awesome somewhere else."
"As long as you know I am, babe," he whispered. It was only loud enough for her to hear and she definitely felt the effects of the tingling of his breath.
"Hey, wait!"
The second it took for Mike to turn around was the first time she ever realized she had a chance with his man. "Yeah?"
"The lower key worked," she said softly, smiling warmly. "Thanks."
-
Later that night, Mike was at a local bar when he heard the familiar voice of "Guitar Girl" singing. He looked up, seeing her on a small stage, strumming the same song—lower key—with a small smile on her face. Her eyes were closed, as if she was concentrating intently, but there seemed to be more there. Just by the look on that smiling face.
She finished the song a few minutes later and peered into the crowd.
"Any requests?" she asked into the microphone. "I'm limited on guitar, but I'll give it a shot."
Mike raised his hand. "Yeah. Can you play my theme?"
The people in the bar who didn't recognize him stared at the smiling man, but Guitar Girl turned bright red. "Uh… no. I can't."
"Can't or won't?" he continued as he walked closer, setting his beer down on the end of the stage. He wore a proud, confident smile, one that happened to make her feel weak in the knees.
"A little of both."
He laughed. "How about you just come off the stage and talk with me then?"
She stared at the manager, who was glaring at her. "I have to play a set…"
"Oh, come on," he muttered, inching toward her. "You know you want to."
"Who says?"
"I say," he grinned.
The girl laughed. "You sure are confident."
"You're confusing confident with plain awesome, Guitar Girl."
She laughed again, setting down her guitar. "You're more charming than your character on TV, you know."
Mike leaned against the stage. "If you come with me… you'll learn I'm more awesome than my character ever will be."
"Is that a dare?"
"It's a promise," he whispered. "Now come on."
"I barely know you…"
"You're a fan, right?"
She smiled. "Maybe."
"Right," he rolled his eyes, stepping into stage. He disconnected the microphone and set it down on the ground. "Just come on. I'd like to get to know you."
"Why?" she challenged. "So I can be just another memory tomorrow morning?"
"Is that why you won't come with me? You don't know me at all," he said softly. "Really."
"Exactly." She went to step away, unsure why her heart was beating so fast. How could she be turning away someone as amazing as "The Miz"? He grabbed her by the hand, making her look into his eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Proving to you that I'm not what you think I am," he said happily.
"Fine," she muttered. "But if I regret this… I'm telling every internet site what an ass you are."
He grinned. "Deal."
"Wait," she stopped, smiling a bit. "I think you need to know one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"The name isn't Guitar Girl," she said with a gleaming eye. "It's Hailey."
I think this should make you smile. Hmph. READ AND REVIEW.