Disclaimer: We don't own anybody. Total fanfic, the pretense being a page in a diary kept by Candice Michelle, written while on a trip to Tampa, Florida, when she'd run into some 'people from her past', and within that book, a paper copy of something written by Randy Orton for the WWE website and rejected outright for its hostility. The paper landed in Candice's hands through a contact with the company, but no one except that contact, "Holly," as well as Randy and Candice have ever lain eyes on the document. "Candice's" comments are at the beginning and end, with Randy's vitriol in the middle. This was actually something I'd written 3 years ago, and just found in files while looking for something to share here. Enjoy. One-shot. Reviews, as always, are welcome.

I should've gone to Sanibel or Captiva or Miami. Not Tampa. I have no business here.
I could've gone to Myrtle Beach or Hilton Head or Virginia Beach or anywhere.
Why do I do this to myself?

I have a beautiful baby girl sleeping in a port-a-crib just a few feet from me. She's just four days shy from her second month of being alive. I have a husband back in LA who might not *be* my husband for much longer if I don't straighten out my head.

What was I expecting when I came here? A hello? A kind word? When Holly from the IT department gave me a copy of his blog entry that they flagged and pulled...he always hated going online but he did that one time, just four days after my release...

it's funny. Four days has been a common link in this. Four days until AkiAnne turns two months old. Four days past a one year, one month anniversary of my WWE release...

...he did it to spit his hatred and try to hurt me. I keep the copy Holly gave me of it in this diary, journal, whatever you want to call it. I'm sure somewhere on a flash drive in IT, there's a copy although Holly said they destroyed it. That and "if anyone ever read it, we'd just deny he ever wrote it. It was the work of a hacker."

A hacker my ass. I know how he speaks, I know how he feels. What I should have realized is that he doesn't change. The irony is how he goes crazy about how "hasn't everyone made mistakes?" I made mistakes and was unforgivable to him, yet he seeks forgiveness from everyone else, and pretends he doesn't care if he gets it or not.

*~page enclosed~*

Don't fucking call me the "Problem Child of the RAW Roster." That's not fair, I don't like it, and consider that fair warning if I hear you say it again.
Don't throw the past in my face. I got into this business young, and I've made mistakes. Hasn't everyone made mistakes? Why can't I? I know not to bite the hand that feeds me anymore. I've learned some things the hard way, and yet, people don't fucking understand it. I'll tell you my side of it, and you can shut the fuck up and let me say what I have to say. You can listen to me instead of reading shit online and accepting it as truth, like the fucking gospel. I'll tell -you- how things are. Don't speculate and talk shit about me anymore. You don't even know me. So, this is how it is.

Weed isn't a big deal. Corporate knows that. It doesn't really violate the Wellness policy...unless you get arrested for it. What I'm saying is if you test dirty for it at work, that's fine, as long as it's not interfering with how you do your job. Hell, it's legalized medically in a lot of places. You don't think I hurt? You don't think we work injured? And it also chills me out. You don't like it? Too damned bad. Anyway, to get nailed for failing a drug test, it has to be something other than weed. I don't do hard drugs, so that's not what I tested dirty for. I tested and failed for steroids, but you know what? Do my job. Try it. Let's see if you wouldn't have resorted to performance enhancing substances. Try being the top heel, working almost 300 fucking days a year, and doing it without any extra edge. You wouldn't. You wouldn't last a fucking day. So stop judging.

And, what? Oh, my suspensions. Well, now, I basically just get fined. Suspensions hurt the company more than they hurt me. No, that's not being arrogant. Check the ratings for when I'm not on. Numbers don't lie. But let me tell you something, I'm held to a different standard and it's NOT what you think. Don't you fucking DARE say that the WWE has played favorites with me. I've served multiple suspensions, and what they call "Non-suspensions"...that basically means I get to work for no pay. You think I'm kidding? I went for 30 days on the road without a paycheck. I didn't get my cut of the merch sales, and I didn't get my Pay Per View bonus. So I basically have worked for free. You know any others that end up doing that? Not really. But there you go thinking that I'm some big fucking problem, and you don't even know. I'm held to a higher standard, a sometimes impossibly high one. Because of this reputation I seem to have, I'm a magnet for problems sometimes. Mostly it's others' jealousy that causes it. Other times, things have been blown so far out of proportion, that it's not even funny.

Hahaha...oh, my "Harassment/Lewd Behavior Suspension." Yeah, why DON'T we discuss that. You weren't there, and you don't know what happened, so let me fucking enlighten you, pal. Amy's lawsuit was dismissed...didn't you know that? She was full of shit. I didn't 'harass' her. And do you know what some of my 'questionable' behavior was? Okay. I used to take some pictures of the women I'd meet and bring back to the hotel. The pictures were on my phone, mostly, and I'd pass the phone around to the guys. Who's being harmed? Nobody. Fucking -nobody-. The women let me take their pictures. It's not like I had a hidden goddamned camera. But Candice saw the pictures and got pissed off and went to management. Then, next thing I know, I'm told I need to change my attitude. What the fuck?

I never promised Candice an exclusive relationship with me, nor did I expect her to not see other people. That ended right there, though. And for the word of someone who allowed Creative to make her appear as Vince McMahon's sex slave...yeah, there's fucking credibility at its finest. One of the best days of my career was June 19, 2009, when they finally released that bitch from her WWE contract.

Oh, now we're going to cover the "fans" who say I'm an "asshole." Did you ever stop for a moment, just one moment, and think that sometimes, I've had enough? If I've signed a thousand autographs, stayed an hour past when I was supposed to have left, there's always some assclown who wants one more and when I've tried to beg off politely, I get fucking abuse heaped on me. I'm the asshole. My hand is cramped, I've made a thousand people happy, but it's the one person who I decline, who's listened to. Oh, and the one whose hat I threw, and pushed the barricade into? That was a work. You know what a work is, right? Go fucking learn it if you don't.

Oh, you meant the one who threw the drink at me, that I went after? Yeah. Guess what. I know what my job is and I know how to do it. It's the job of the FANS to separate my character from my person. Guess what. That drink didn't hit my character. It hit ME. Let's see how you like it...let's get some random fucking asshole to throw a drink at you and see if you like it. Then you can talk to me about your reaction, because right now, you can only GUESS at what you'd do. I'm not the one with impulse control problems. I didn't throw the drink. Same way people thought that me punting Vince McMahon in the head was unscripted...what the fuck do you think I am? I was CONVINCING. I was doing my JOB. I think it's obvious being that I wasn't arrested on the spot or fired that it was scripted. But how some of you fucking people ran around screaming that it was proof that I was some sort of fucking maniac, who deserved to be fired, and everything else...I guess maybe I give people too much credit for having the ability to separate fact from fiction. My mistake. I'll expect less intelligence from the public...that way, I'll never be disappointed. Is that how you think I should have to operate? Really?

It's not ME who has a lot of growing up to do. It's you, and those like you who talk your shit and try to look cool at my expense. I do my job, and I generate..and take..heat, but when I'm on my own time, I don't owe anybody anything. Dispute that. Go right ahead. When I'm out at a restaurant or something with my family, I just want to be left alone. I pick out of the way places, and I don't do things that attract attention. Most of the time, it's fine.

Now, that's completely different than when I'm on the road, and we go to promote a club or something. That's not my own time. See, I know the difference. Do you? Are you one of the fucking assholes who'd come disturb me when I'm somewhere with my kid? My kid isn't part of the wrestling world. I do have a life outside my job. Or am I not allowed to? Work my schedule and see what sort of stress you have, and see how protective of your private time you'd be. Like I said, you have no fucking idea. NONE.

Just leave me the fuck alone.

RKO

June 22, 2009

If I could turn back time, I would. I would never have noticed him. Well, that's a load of shit. He's someone you can't *not* notice. So barring that, I would have reacted differently to him. I would've respected that he was involved with someone, changing my thoughts of if there's no marriage license, it doesn't count, and when there is a marriage license, it's only a piece of paper. I would have steered clear of him entirely.

I should have known early on when he asked me if I did things that he heard about, the pictures and films. He asked me directly if I ever used the name Mackenzie Montgomery.

I said no.

I said no because I didn't want him to believe it was me.
I lied.
I figured that if he learned to love me, he could forgive me.
That was one of the stupidest things I've done in my life.

Cunt, whore, bitch, piece of shit, garbage, trash, cocksucker, homewrecker, loser, stupid. All of those have been used by him after everything came to light. He said that I no longer had a *name*, but that those things *became* my name.

Someone told me when he heard I was pregnant, the first thing he did was say it wasn't his, which was stupid because there was no way it could have been his, but I guess he wanted everyone to know, in case there was any doubt. The second thing he did was tell key people so it would get back to me, "Won't that child be proud to watch their Mommy in her movies with a gag in her mouth, all tied up, and her softcore porn?" That made me cry my eyes out because I realized that the same way I never wanted him to know, I never want my daughter to know. Hopefully I can do a better job hiding it from AkiAnne than I could him, but he definitely iced the cake with "she should never be allowed to have children."

With the many ways he can hurt someone, who is as sick and twisted as me to still want his approval or care about how he thinks, how he feels or how he is?

My husband married me knowing all that I did and I found out after we married that he was into feet. I wasn't into feet, but the photographer that paid me good money was. So now I live what's basically a lie. I have a beautiful infant daughter to show for it but I don't think I've ever been more miserable, except when my world shattered the first time.

I need to get out of Tampa. I'll see Trish and Layla, and then get as far away from here as possible. I do not belong here.