Author's Note: This is just a series of prompts that I used songs for (hence why they're songfics). I'm leaving this in the reviewer's hands. I want to hear who would read what if it were more than a one shot or if something should stay a one shot, etc. Or if anybody's been inspired to write something based on these. If that's the case, I want to know so I can read them. Think of this as something like a Cyber Sunday. Readers decide!

Song: Unravelling Artist: Sevendust Album: Cold Day Memory (2010) Composer: L. Witherspoon, C. Lowery, M. Rose, V. Hornsby, J. Connelly

It was a beautiful afternoon in Parma, Ohio. The sun shone high in the sky, unobstructed by the cream puff clouds. A line of teenagers, adults and children were lined up down the block, chattering wildly with excitement. It created something of a buzz in the sticky summer heat. Some of them had been waiting before the sun had even come up, excited to catch a glimpse of their hometown boy.

At twelve noon, a sleek black limousine pulled up on the street. The breaths of the people on the sidewalk caught in their throats as the car door opened. He stepped out, dressed in a grey suit with a white shirt and baby blue tie, the WWE Championship rested over his shoulder. The crowd collectively cheered and applauded their hometown boy.

Mike Mizanin took a few moments to take it all in. He lived in Los Angeles, California these days, with his girlfriend Maryse. She had to be one of the hottest women he had ever seen. Bleached blonde, glamour model, Playboy model. Life was good. His blue eyes scanned the line of people down the street. No matter how many autograph signings he did, it always surprised him that so many people turned up for him. It was difficult not to feel his ego inflate just a little bit.

He was doing an autograph signing at The Rock Shop, one of the last remaining record stores in the area. When he had been in high school, he had practically lived at the store. He was terrified to even attempt to calculate how much money he spent in the store growing up. Standing in front of the newly renovated store, with it's red awning and white bricked walls, Mike "The Miz" Mizanin truly felt like he had come full circle.

I need an answer, some way to understand

You're still so convincing, and a little out of hand

So tell me one thing, who gave you all those scars?

That took away your innocence

You push away with everything you are

She was a beautiful woman of thirty-one, with sandy blonde hair and green eyes that could pierce the coldest human being. The new owner of The Rock Shop, she wasn't about to let her teenage hangout become a thing of the past, even if record labels were threatening to stop putting out discs. Over the past year that she had owned the store, she had taken up filling the store with music merchandise as well, everything from hooded sweatshirts to posters to even puzzles.

The table was ready for the autograph signing. It was a long, sleek dark wood table with a comfortable padded chair. That was the only demand he had made, and since it was so reasonable, she obliged. Though she really shouldn't have.

It had been years since she had seen him. Back in the day, they had been inseparable. They were both good students, worked on every project they could together, and even were on their high school yearbook. She had graduated valedictorian, went onto college and became a fairly successful businesswoman. When The Rock Shop had gone on the block, she decided to take over, knowing that she couldn't let her favourite hangout die. Mike, on the other hand, had moved to California, become a reality TV star. She hadn't watched anything he was on; he had hurt her too deeply. Even knowing that he was coming in, as good as it was for business to have a hometown boy signing autographs, made her eye twitch and her nerves sing.

I can't take this anymore

Mike entered the store. It looked pretty different. It wasn't just a record store anymore. At the back there was a giant poster area, along with racks upon racks of T-shirts and hooded sweatshirts. His eyes scanned the store. The walls had since been painted a deep red, the floors an elegant hardwood. Posters of the Misfits, the Runaways, The Plasmatics and Journey were long gone, replaced by posters of Sevendust, Metallica, Dethklok and NOFX.

His jaw dropped when he saw her come out of the back office. She looked pretty much the same as she had after high school, save for an extra five pounds and a more modern haircut. "You're the owner now?" he asked. He felt awkward, unsure of whether or not he should shake her hand or hug her.

"Yeah. AJ came down with Alzheimer's a year ago, and his son didn't want the place. He was going to sell it. I decided I couldn't let this place die, so I bought it." Mike felt thankful that she had purchased the place. These days it was getting harder and harder to buy music, thanks to the invention of the download. "We set up your table here at the front of the store." She motioned lamely to the table. Mike nodded.

"Hey, throwing this out there, but after the autograph signing, why don't we go get a coffee or something and catch up?" Something flashed in her eyes. She definitely still remembered everything that had happened between them, he realized. Awkward.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

I'm tired of breaking…I'm tired of faking

The autograph signing went without a hitch. A few people he recognized. There were a few friends from high school who invited him out to some reunion barbeque later on. He agreed to go, considering he had the week off to visit with his parents and see the sights. It was something WWE cameras wanted to document for the three-disc DVD set that they were planning on making for him.

She had disappeared into the office for the entire signing, sending only lower-level employees, teenagers cracking gum and wearing lanyards around their necks, to see if he needed anything. The only thing he requested during the entire session was a glass of water.

When the last person had left, the store was at closing time. His left hand was cramped from all of the autographs. His eyes still were edged with white from the flash of all the digital cameras, some of them way too close for comfort. The biggest laugh of the afternoon was when an old high school friend had brought his graduating yearbook to be signed. Mike had done so, slapped hands with the kid and taken a picture. He couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun at an autograph signing. Then again, he was home. People knew him.

I want the world to see, you sold a broken dream

You were not there for me, I was unravelling

All that we never knew, that could have been me and you

But you took everything

Now we're just here unravelling

The other employees left, leaving Mike alone in the store with her. She wondered why he hadn't hopped into his limo and headed back to the airport yet. Emerging from her office, she found him leaned against the table, drinking his water, watching her slide on her leather jacket. "Is that the same leather jacket you had in high school?" he asked incredulously.

"It still fits."

"I know. That's awesome."

"What are you still doing here, Mike?"

"I wanted to see if you re-thought your stance on the coffee."

"I haven't. Thanks, though. Store's closed, I'm heading home. You should probably get going; you probably have to catch the next flight out, hey?"

"No. I'm here for the week. Get to see the family and WWE wants to document the rise of the Miz." She smirked. He was one of the biggest things to come out of this town, if not the biggest thing. It was hard to not be proud of his accomplishments, but she was unsure of her feelings. After so many years, she didn't think things would still be so difficult.

"That's nice. Come on; I want to go home." She went to the back exit to make sure it was locked up tight. Mike followed her.

"What brought you back here? I thought you were going to leave for Cleveland when I left."

"Dad got sick, so I didn't go."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"He's fine now." Her father had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. But she wasn't about to tell Mike that. He followed her to the front door.

So here we are now, break what's already broken

I guess I could have seen this coming if you'd been around

Let's tear the past wide open

"Well, have fun this week," she said, setting the alarm. They would have a one minute interval to get out of the store before the alarm was completely activated. She unlatched the front door and opened it up, practically shoving Mike outside. He watched as she locked up the store. "Do you have to watch me do everything?" she asked hotly.

"I'm sorry about how things went down before I left," he said sheepishly. "I didn't realize you were still going to hate me after all these years."

"I don't hate you," she informed him, "I just don't like you very much. Have a good week. Welcome home, Mike." With a deep sigh, running his hand through her hair, he watched her walk away to her car parked at the end of the block. She was still driving the old 1986 Toyota that she had bought in high school. It surprised him how little she had changed, and how seeing her again stirred up old feelings and regrets about things.

I can't take this anymore

Unlocking the door to her apartment, she entered, kicking off her pumps and closing the door, locking it behind her. The entire way home she had been shaking. Of course, she had known he was coming; WWE personnel had called her and informed her that he was coming to sign autographs at her store. She had thought that she would be okay, and anyway, it was good for business. But seeing him again had given her the shakes.

It was a tiny apartment she lived in, a one bedroom, one bathroom place with furniture that her mother had given her from her deceased grandmother. The walls were high, white, the carpet a soft grey. Photos from high school were all over the walls, but not a single shot of Mike. Those photos sat in a box somewhere in her mother's attic, collecting dust. She didn't have the heart to rip or burn them; she wasn't that kind of a person.

He still looked good. A hell of a lot more muscular now than he had been in high school. They'd been inseparable nerds, embracing the ridiculous and the stupid. She practically lived at his house every weekend, where they would eat popcorn and watch horrible movies. Mike never could understand how she enjoyed movies that were so terrible so much, but her sense of humour was twisted.

Her cat Summer rubbed up against her leg, mewing and purring. She leaned down and picked up the kitty, petting her, nuzzling her head against the kitty's soft grey fur. "Oh, Summer, you would not believe the day I had," she said. Walking into the kitchen, she put on the kettle for tea and took a look for some kind of a snack. She needed to go shopping, but decided it could wait another day. Settling on a peanut butter and chocolate granola bar, she put down the cat, unwrapped it and bit into it before scouring the fridge or freezer for something for dinner. She settled on TV dinner with Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and corn. "God, my life is pathetic," she said to herself, turning on the oven.

I'm tired of breaking…I'm tired of faking

The limousine dropped him off at his dad's house. George Mizanin grinned as his son barrelled down the driveway, his duffel bag over his shoulder. "Mikey! How was the signing?"

"Great. You would not believe who I saw at the store."

"I know who you saw."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was big news when she bought The Rock Shop, Mike." Mike followed his dad into the house, kicking off his shoes and dropping his duffel bag in the main hallway.

"If it was such big news, how come you didn't tell me?"

"I don't know. I figured since things had gotten so strained between the two of you that you didn't care, really. You hungry?" Mike nodded, following his dad into the kitchen. "So, you saw her, huh? Still looks good, doesn't she? I can't believe she hasn't found somebody yet."

"She's still single?"

"Yeah. Too ambitious, probably. It takes a lot to keep that store open. With the way music's been going, she's taken to jamming the store with merchandise to keep it afloat."

"Is the store in trouble?"

"No, not really. It's still one of the most popular places here." Mike sat down on the stool in front of the island counter. She had kept the store open to keep her memories alive. Most of those memories he had been involved with. He was unsure how he was supposed to feel about that. "How was she?"

"She hates me."

"Are you surprised?"

"Kind of. It's been a long time. How long can a woman hold a grudge for?"

"The rest of her life if she has to. Just ask your mother." Mike laughed, hanging his head in his hands. "Are you planning to see her again this week?"

"Hopefully. She doesn't want anything to do with me, but it'd be nice to make it right before I had to leave again." He nodded. The problems that had stemmed between them had most definitely been Mike's fault. He had done the unthinkable, the unforgivable. Even if he wanted to make it right in the week, he wasn't sure he could. "Do you regret what you did?"

"Yeah. Totally."

"How's Maryse?"

"She's good. Getting ready to launch some kind of a fashion line. We don't see each other much these days. She wants to do some more Playboy, too."

"That bothers you?"

"A little bit, I guess. Would it have bothered you if Mom did that?"

"Fair point." George grabbed cans of beer for himself and Mike, handing one to his son. Mike popped the top and took a sip. He wondered if he should even try or if he should stay away from her for the rest of the week. She was making it pretty clear that water was not underneath the bridge.

I want the world to see, you sold a broken dream

You were not there for me, I was unravelling

All that we never knew, that could have been me and you

But you took everything

Now we're just here unravelling