Chapter One:

The Bittersweet Departure

No.

The words on the computer screen were barely registering. No matter how many times twenty-six year-old Mira Barrera's ice blue eyes read the words, her brain refused to comprehend or process it. This couldn't be happening. There had to be some mistake. This was her first night as the new General Manager of Raw after the unceremonious firing of Eric Bischoff. She had just managed to bring back some of the ECW guys and guys from SmackDown, and now she was stuck with this crisis. Was this really happening? It felt so surreal.

Tears began to well up in her eyes, the hot, salty water burning behind her eyelids. It told her that everything she was reading was so very real. It was more real than she was comprehending. The bold black words on the company website told her that the inevitable had finally happened. Then came the acute pain, like a knife had been jammed deep into her heart. She couldn't breathe.

Torrie Wilson walked into Mira's office, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a pink spaghetti-strapped tank top. Her long bleached-blonde mane was pulled back into a high, sloppy ponytail. Her small dog Chloe was tucked under her arm. She took one look at Mira and her face instantly warped into an expression of concern.

"What's the matter, Mira?" she asked. "Is the first night getting to you already?"

"Get Kurt. Now."

"Oh." It dawned on Torrie. Without a word, she nodded and left Mira's office. The look on Mira's face told Torrie that she didn't want to argue.

A few seconds later, Jonathan Coachman walked in, wearing a black T-shirt that read, "Cause I'm The Coach, That's Why". He wore track pants with the ridiculous shirt. Vince had put him in a match against John Cena later on in the night. Mira knew that Coach was angry about being passed over for a promotion yet again. He was also upset about having to face Cena, who wasn't exactly Coach's biggest fan. Coach wasn't a big fan of Cena's, either.

"What do you want?" she sighed, running a hand through her curled ruby red hair. It was only her first night, and it wasn't exactly shaping up to be the best night ever. She was already contemplating throwing in the towel. She felt like her roster was dropping like flies.

"I just wanted to come and say thank you for keeping me here on Raw."

"Don't flatter yourself," she snapped back at him. He was a smarmy individual; he'd always rubbed Mira the wrong way. "Nobody else wanted you."

"Oh, you are a jokester," he laughed, his huge brown eyes widening with emphasis. "I'm the Coach - everyone wants me."

"They want you like they want a case of syphilis," she snorted. His face darkened.

"Are we going to have problems, Miss Barrera?" he asked. She shrugged.

"So long as you don't plan on making any," she informed him. He nodded, knowing to tread carefully with her. He left without incident. Mira looked at the computer screen and wondered what was taking Torrie so long to bring Kurt over. Finally able to command her brain to make her stand, Mira decided to go find Kurt herself.

Readjusting his bag over his shoulder, Kurt turned to look at the locker room one last time.

After almost seven years as a WWE Superstar, this was it. This was the last time he'd board an airplane, the last time he'd ever hear the crowd tell him that he sucked. As hard as it was to say goodbye to the job, the people and the money, he knew he needed it. The injuries were beginning to pile up, and it had been so long since he'd been able to rest. News of his departure had sent shock-waves through the WWE locker room. He'd already said most of his goodbyes.

There was a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he called out. The door opened and he turned to see Torrie Wilson timidly walk into the locker room. Her eyes were darting around nervously. Her past with Kurt Angle was complicated, stemming from an injury he had suffered at the hands of the Big Show when he had gone to save Torrie. He'd always blamed her for the injuries that put him in a wheelchair for a few months.

Instead of regarding her with coldness, he hugged her. "Torrie, hi!" he said, catching her by surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Mira wants to see you. She's really upset. I think she didn't know."

"Shit." Kurt ran a hand over his bald head and turned back to stare at the empty cubby. Mira was the last person he wanted to talk to about his leaving. He had ducked her calls, ducked her in general, thinking she already knew. He didn't want anybody talking him out of this. "Tor, what do you think would happen if I just left now?"

"I'd have to kill you."

They both turned to find Mira standing behind Torrie. She was dressed in a pinstripe suit with a black V-neck shirt underneath the blazer. She had her arms crossed over her chest. A small streak of mascara zig-zagged down her right cheek. "Torrie, I'll take it from here," Mira told her softly. Torrie nodded and left.

It was silent in the locker room for a long time. The atmosphere got so thick that it felt hard to breathe. "Mira..." he started.

"No. Don't. Even. If you wanted to be released, Kurt, you could have come to me..."

"And then what?" he charged. "You would have tried to talk me out of this..."

"I would have understood!" she shouted. She shook her head. "You know, it's one thing to go over my head to Vince for the release, but how long have you known you weren't going to do this anymore?"

"It's been a while," he confessed after taking a moment to contemplate his answer.

"How long, Kurt?"

"A few months."

"A few months," She murmured, letting her arms drop to her side. "And you decided to duck me like I had the plague. How could you let me think that you were angry at me when you were just planning to leave this whole time? I thought we were better friends than that."

"Mira, with all due respect, this is my decision..."

"I fought my ass off to bring you back here from ECW, and you knew the whole time you had no plans to stay here," she told him angrily. His eyes widened; he'd never seen her so emotional, so upset. Girls that got as upset as Mira Barrera were capable of anything. The last time he'd seen her so angry was the night she had caught Randy Orton, her ex-fiance, with Candice Michelle.

His face fell as he saw more tears welling up in her eyes. "Christ, Kurt. I understand. I sympathize. This is a hard job. It's hard on us physically, mentally. But...you always call me your little sister and...how can you even contemplate leaving without saying goodbye? I had to find out from our corporate website! You think Dave Batista is shocked? At least he's known a few days!"

He wanted to move towards her, to hug her, but he was afraid to. He remembered the shiner she gave Randy. "Mira, this was the exact reaction I wanted to avoid. I knew you'd be upset like this." He opened his arms and she rushed into them. They hugged tightly and she began to sob. Her entire body quaked against him. "I'll keep in touch. You know I will. And I know you'll be a great GM. You got the dominant brand and you drew a hell of a card. You got Cena, you got Randy, DX...I'll still be watching."

She pulled away, looking up at him with blue eyes that devastated him. "Goodbye, Kurt."

"My first and only trainee," he mused. "I'm proud of you. Always have been. Don't forget it."

He kissed her forehead. She watched him leave the locker room. When the door closed behind him, she sank down into a steel chair and sobbed until the well of tears ran dry.

John Cena was curious.

He'd been waiting half an hour, but there was no sign of the new General Manager. He was sitting in her office, waiting for a glimpse of her so they could talk. He had a match coming up with Edge, and he really didn't have the time to play find-a-GM. Readjusting the Chain Gang baseball cap that cast an intense darkness over his clear blue eyes, he got up and left, walking down the hallway, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek in frustration.

As he walked past Kurt's old locker room, he could hear the soft whimpers and a female voice saying, "Stop it, now. You have a show to run. Get it together."

He was mystified, but then he remembered the first night he'd met Mira Barrera. They had both been on SmackDown at the time. She had come to Raw about a month or two before he had been drafted. She'd helped him ward off a double team from Brock Lesnar and Sable. He'd gone to thank her after the show was over, only to find out that she was the famous Mira Barrera, Kurt Angle's only protege. She was great in the ring; she had to be. Everyone who knew Kurt Angle knew that he wouldn't waste his time on anything less than perfection.

He lightly rapped on the door with his knuckles.

Mira heard the rapping and straightened up, wiping at her eyes with her fingers to try and get the mascara. "One second," she said, but looking up, she found herself staring at the waist of John Cena. "Oh, fuck," she murmured. "Is there something wrong with waiting in my office?" she snapped, irritated.

"There is when you've been waiting a half hour," John told her.

"Has it been...oh, god damn it. Jesus, I am so sorry, John. What can I do for you?" She was still trying to fix her eyes, but she was just making it worse. He had to smile. He thought it was cute.

"I, uh, came to let you know that it's time renegotiate my contract..." She groaned. "What?"

"You said the C-word."

"Contract?" It dawned on him. "Oh, shit. Yeah. It's been a rough night, hey?"

"You don't even know the half of it, John."

"I can guess. Did you just find out Lumpy was leaving?" he asked, sitting down beside her. She nodded. "Ouch. That's rough. He couldn't even come and tell you..."

"John."

"Sorry. None of my business. I get it," he said, hands raised in mock surrender. "But you got a show to run. Shit like this is going to happen."

"Trish Stratus and Kurt Angle in a day? Theodore Long has to be laughing his ass off, and we both know Paul Heyman is dying because he 'pulled one over' on the newbie." She shook her head, small giggles over taking her. "No wonder he was so goddamn anxious to pass Kurt's contract along. I didn't know, and they all knew." She looked at him, at the sparkling blue eyes. "Go on, laugh. We both know you want to."

"Well, I don't know how you don't know," he confessed. "It's been going around all week."

"I've been in meetings. You can't just become GM overnight, you know. There's meetings and contract signings and orientations..." She leaned over, her hair falling over her face. She put her head in her hands. "I really can't believe this."

"Don't beat yourself up too much over this. Shit happens. Besides, you know the old-timers gotta rib the newbie. You gotta appreciate that they respect you enough to mess around with you."

"He wasn't even going to say goodbye to me, John. He's been ducking me for weeks."

"That's on him. Seriously, Mira, stop beating yourself up." He stood. "I got to go get ready for my match against Edge. So why don't you go clean yourself up, go back to your office and put a smile on. You're too damn cute to be crying, and besides, you get too down on yourself and the locker room morale is going to fall faster than Ultimo Dragon at WrestleMania XX. I can't be cheerin' people up all the time, you know." She smiled.

"Thanks, John." He gave her a reassuring pat on the back and left. When the door closed, she went into the shower area and looked into the mirror. She was a two time former Women's Champion. Her theme was done by her favorite band on the planet, Collective Soul. Working with Kurt Angle, she'd always heard the whispers about how good she had to be in the ring to have Kurt pay attention to her. She always remained humble, though. She was living the dream, and she knew at some point, with Kurt's health the way it was, that he wasn't going to be around forever. She'd just hoped there would be a couple more years.

The thought of her mentor and friend leaving sent more tears to her eyes. It was going to be a miserable week as she grieved for the absence of her best friend. Teasing her hair and trying to look as normal as she could, Mira pulled the door open and left Kurt's locker room. She needed to get a look at John's contract; the last thing she wanted was another one slipping through her fingers.

She stopped in front of her office door and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Pushing the heavy black door open, she froze in what could only be described as shock.

Who, or what, is stretched out before her? Tune in to find out...