From Sinfully Sined's list of story ideas, here is the description that I wrote this from....She watched from the roof as everyone stared up at her wondering what she was doing. Would she jump? No she didn't want to jump. She didn't even come up here to jump. No she came up here to be alone. Too many people started to notice her. She use to be able to hid in plain sight but with one bad and one slap to a certain superstar's face she threw herself into the spotlight that she had fought so hard to stay away from...Here's my take on that, hope you enjoy read and review.

The slap heard round the world, that's what their calling it...isn't that the dumbest fucking thing you've ever heard? All I did was slap the ass hole; he wasn't the first guy and probably wouldn't be the last one either. But you know what's really funny? It's that, that slap made me feel better then I've felt in a long time. And if I try hard enough, if I think hard enough, I can still feel my palm stinging from it connecting with his cheek.

A light breeze hits my face, and it pulls my out of my concentration and sends me back into the real world, here in the present I'm not feeling so great. My feet teeter on the edge of the building and I look down to the street below. There is a swarm of people down there, and their all watching me, their studying me like what I do affects them. They all know who I am thanks to that jerk, and I hate it. The spotlight isn't something I wanted and now with no say at all I've been thrust into it.

I know what's on their little minds too, their wondering if I'm going to do it, if I'll really jump. Sorry folks, you won't be getting another show this evening, because I didn't come up here to jump. I just wanted to be alone, but it obviously wasn't working....not with the sea of hopeless marks looking up at me.

So...Thanks to lame reporters who didn't have anything better to do with their lives, those fat ass weirdo's who sit on there back sides all day and dig up anything and everything they can about wrestling, I'm an instant celebrity.

Obviously I'm no Angelina or anything, me taking a crap isn't front page news, and you won't see gossip about me on entertainment tonight. But in the cartoon world that is wrestling, I'm now the latest news.

And sadly, wrestling is pretty popular. Honestly I didn't know how popular till I was the latest hot topic of pimply faced teenagers and middle aged bald men. Seriously, how fucked up is that?

If that big muscled, no brained, dick head was here right now I'd throw him off the roof and feed him to the waiting wolves below.

They had questions, and I didn't want to give answers, besides I didn't have all the answers...only he knew how that video of us wound up on the internet. It's his fault that I am now wrestling's Paris Hilton, and the worst part is that I didn't even know the tape existed until my best friend in the biz, Rey, called me up and begged me not to go online.

Of course I had to jump on the computer right then and there, poor Rey was still on the phone when I saw my name pop up on that wrestling news site. And he was still on the other end of the receiver when I clicked the hyper link to reveal me fucking and sucking in all my glory. I had a sex tape.

I seriously had no idea that there was a camera set up in that hotel room, and that's when I vowed to kill John Cena. I used to be invisible, I liked being invisible...I knew that I couldn't go back to slipping in and out of the arena unnoticed like I did before. All I ever wanted to do was just do my job, I enjoyed being the nameless photographer, but now I had my own real life storyline...complete with more drama then even Vince could dream up.

Our confrontation is as vivid to me now as when it happened on the over seas tour last week. But things had blown up ten fold since then.

"You son of a bitch!" I screamed, storming up to him backstage.

His whole body turned, and I knew by the look on his face that he already knew what I was upset about. "Alexis." John said quietly, seemingly afraid to say anything more to me.

Looking around I knew we weren't alone but I couldn't refrain from hitting him clean across the face, slapping the taste out his mouth, the taste of me, the taste of us and the taste of his lies. "How dare you tape us..."

"Babe," He starts, but I don't let him finish, I just hit him again, this time taking aim at the other side of his face.

"Don't babe me." I demand, "You've got some fucking nerve."

John seems to quickly loose his patience with me, "You think I wanted this Lex? Do you honestly think I wanted a sex tape to hit the net? I'm the top face in this whole god damn company; this is going to kill my squeaky clean image. I'm going to loose the under eighteen demographic...this is money out of my pocket. Do you seriously think I leaked the tape?"

I resist the urge to hit him again, "I don't know what to think, because I never thought you'd tape us in the first place. But I guess you wouldn't intentionally damage your career like that."

"Exactly, be logical baby"

My lips curled into a smile, and he smiled back...then I hit him again. "Don't play all innocent fuck face, you still made the tape, and you obviously showed someone or left it somewhere where someone could get it. You're still a moron."

Then I turned and walked away, leaving him there rubbing his sore jaw. Poor baby.

So obviously someone who witnessed our little domestic dispute was leaking information to the net because the next day it was the top story, "the slap heard around the world". What absolute garbage.

I couldn't even come into work this week without getting hassled in the parking lot; I just wanted to do what I loved to do...what I felt I was born to do, my passion, photography. Granted I never exactly pictured my self snapping shot's of greased up men rolling around with each other, but a pay check is a pay check. Some would call me a corporate sell out but it beats being a starving artist I suppose.

Then I made the dumbest decision of my life when I started hooking up with him, it's a cardinal rule to not sleep with you're subject you know. But John was a charmer that's for sure, hitting on me every week until he finally got me drunk enough to give in. After all I'm only human, and my female hormones loved his ass in those jeans and out of those jeans for that matter.

To put things bluntly, he got me off, and that's a gift ladies and gentlemen...we were hot and sweaty ever since.

The door to roof opens and I turn to see him walking towards me. "Don't come near me John, so help me god."

I don't bother too turn around; I just keep my eyes locked on the mob. But I knew he had stopped walking, I could no longer hear his heavy footsteps. "Please Lex, don't jump, I'm sorry."

A small laugh escapes my lips, "Don't flatter yourself. I didn't come up here to jump, like I'd actually kill myself over an idiot like you."

I hear a heavy sigh escape his mouth from behind me, "Well what am I supposed to think, you said not to come any closer."

"Yeah, that was for your own benefit. If you want me to hit you again then by all means come closer."

"I'll take my chances." John said moving towards me, "But why come up to the roof if you weren't going to jump?"

"Ever here of someone wanting to be alone?" I shot back, irritated to have him so close to me. "Ever since this whole thing blew up I haven't been able to be alone for even five minutes."

"So you're really not going to forgive me?" He asked, his voice sounding hurt at my coldness towards him. Surely he wasn't expecting for this to blow over and for us to just go back to grunting and moaning.

"Forgive you? Are you out of your fucking mind? Better luck next time champ, although if I were you I'd let the next girl know she was being taped....hell I'm sure the ring rat sluts will eat that shit up."

With that said I brushed passed him and headed down the stair case, I had to face the horde of fans sometime. At least something good came out of this; I finally found the strength to break away from him, I was done being his little tramp. I'd actually missed my moral fibre, being someone's fuck buddy and not their girlfriend was rather degrading...and I hadn't loved myself in a long time. But with one hard slap, I'd lost so much and yet gained back me.

Maybe this will all die down eventually, and I can only hope it does, but for now it seems I'm signing autographs... "Love John Cena's sex tape whore."