A/N: Okay, I got the idea for this while working late last night. For some reason, I couldn't get the chorus of "Paparazzi" out of my head, and this OS is based (loosely) on that. In a side note, I am getting around to updating my other stories; right now, it's finals week and I am still kind of swamped with schoolwork. Don't worry; I will be updating soon. In the meantime, read, enjoy, and hopefully review. Peace!

A/A/N: This OS is set on this past episode of Raw

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and no one; only Vinny Mac does.



Until You Love Me

It wasn't just a line—he truly was awesome.

Miz cracked his neck back and forth, unable (and unwilling) to keep the smirk off his face. Superstars who passed him shot him a plethora of dirty looks, but quite frankly, the Cleveland native couldn't bring himself to care. Ever since he had captured the United States Championship from Kofi Kingston, the entire Raw roster (along with the SmackDown and ECW ones, for that matter) had regarded him with a kind of bemused disinterest, as though he was nothing more than an obnoxious little kid who was better off being ignored.

In other words, as a fucking joke.

At first, it had galled him. After all, he was the Miz, the Chick Magnet. He had held both the World and the WWE Tag Team Championships with his former best friend (and he did mean former) John Morrison. He was a two-time Slammy winner, for God's sakes.

But after a while, all that bland indifference began to fuel him. If the other Superstars refused to notice him, then he would make them notice. He would prove to them that he truly was the future of this business. And so far, he had done just that. He had proved it at Bragging Rights by beating his former best friend. He had done it at Survivor Series by leading a winning team. And he had done it tonight by beating the World's Strongest Man and retaining his U.S. Championship.

Tonight should have proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was the Miz and he was pretty damn awesome.

The Chick Magnet eased his title belt further up onto his shoulder as he strolled down the hall, heading for the locker room. As he did so, a familiar figure caught his eye, and he paused.

Melina Perez leaned casually against the wall a few yards away, chatting with Kelly Kelly. The gray top and slashed black pants she wore hugged her supple curves, and her raven-hued hair tumbled loose down her back. As Miz watched, the Diva's Champion pushed back a stray curl of hair, tucking it behind her ear.

The Cleveland native's smirk broadened, transforming into a lascivious leer. He was well aware that all of the Divas on all three rosters secretly wanted him, but there had always been something about Melina that made her stand out, that defined her from all the other gorgeous women at his disposal. Maybe it was the fact that for as long as he'd known her, she'd always managed to hide her obvious desire for him beneath a façade of disdain and dislike. Or maybe it was because, out of all the guys on the roster that she could have had (him included), the Latina beauty chose to shack up with that loser ex-best friend of his.

Whatever. Melina's feigned lack of interest or Morrison's presence as a boyfriend weren't enough to deter him. If anything…things were about to change.

Kelly saw him first, her full lips compressing into a thin line as Miz approached the pair. The blond Diva eyed him warily, and with good reason. After all, things hadn't exactly ended well between them back on ECW. But then again, Kelly had brought most of it on herself. She should have known better than to pass him over for an overweight loser like Balls Mahoney.

Melina, however, didn't notice his presence until the Chick Magnet slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Heyyyy, Mel," the United States Champion drawled. He glanced over at Kelly. "Kel, could you give us a few minutes? I need to speak to Mel." A beat. "Alone."

The former Extreme Expose member didn't get the hint, however. Instead, she frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. Miz resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Kelly may have been smoking hot, but she was also as dumb as a bag of hammers. The Chick Magnet kept his cool in check, though, and made a shooing motion with his hand. "Go on," he urged.

"It's okay, Kel," the Diva's Champion interjected. "I'll be fine." She didn't look at Miz as she spoke. "Trust me…this won't take long."

Kelly nodded slowly, her azure irises still on the Cleveland native. "All right, Melina," the blond Diva replied reluctantly. "If you say so…" Turning around, she walked away, although not without casting one or two suspicious glances over her shoulder. Miz didn't blame her—some girls just couldn't get enough of the Chick Magnet. He waited until she turned a corner out of sight before focusing his attention back on the lovely Latina at his side. "Sooooo….Mel…where were we?"

"What do you want, Miz?" Melina interrupted, pulling away from him.

The United States Champion made a tsking sound. "Aw, come on, Mel! Don't be like that! We've known each a while; there's no need to be so…" He paused, using Melina's enforced distance as an opportunity to eye her appreciatively. "…formal."

The Diva's Champion rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "What do you want?" she repeated.

Miz shrugged. "What do I want? Nothing much," He inched closer to the Latina beauty. "I was just thinking…since I just retained my title against Mark Henry…and since you don't seem to be doing anything…how about going out to celebrate? You and me—partying it up here in Dallas."

A derisive smile touched the corners of Melina's mouth, and she let out a sound that might have almost been a laugh. "You do know that I have a boyfriend, right?"

For a moment, the Cleveland native was puzzled. Boyfriend? What boyfriend? Then, in a flash, he remembered. Morrison. Miz grinned and moved even closer, planting his hand on the wall so he could lean down over Melina. "Come on, Mel—that was on SmackDown! That doesn't count! Besides…" The United States Champion lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "We both know that I'm the one you really want."

Melina started to reply, but Miz cut her off. He was on a roll now. "Think about it, Mel," He wrapped one arm around her shoulders again, using the other to spell out an imaginary marquee. "You and me—the U.S. Champion and the Diva's Champion, the Chick Magnet and the paparazzi princess. We could be the new A-list couple—only unlike Morrison, I won't turn out to be a loser." He bent down until his lips grazed her ear. "C'mon, Mel, admit it—you know you want me."

"Oh my God!" With an abrupt motion, the Dominant Diva squirmed free, shoving him away. She glared at him, her beautiful features twisted with disgust. "Are you insane? You honestly think that I would be attracted to an oily, sleazy scumbag like you?" Melina shook her head, her black curls flying. "Let me make something clear to you, Miz—when you look at me, it makes my skin crawl. When you touch me, I want to throw up. I wouldn't sleep with you if I was blind, deaf, drunk, and you were the last man on Earth. I don't want you—no woman in her right mind would want a pathetic wannabe like you."

The Diva's Champion backed up a step, letting out a harsh laugh. "You know…Johnny was right about you." She cast a scornful look up and down his body, as though appraising him and finding him lacking. When she spoke again, her voice was full of derision. "Dumping your loser ass was the best thing he ever did." With that, she spun around on her stiletto heel, storming down the hallway.

For a moment, Miz remained where he was, frozen in place, mouth hanging open in shock.

A loser?

A wannabe?

Pathetic?

Him?

The United States Champion felt his lips curl back from his teeth in a snarl. Who the hell did this bitch think she was? Without that sparkly pink belt, she was nothing, nobody, just another pair of tits that talked. If anything, she should be chasing after him, thanking him for gracing her with his presence. What right did she have, to walk away from him?

Miz strode down the hall, catching up with Melina. He grabbed her arm, swinging her around and practically throwing her against the wall. "Are you kidding me?" the Chick Magnet retorted through gritted teeth. "Morrison's the loser, not me. He didn't dump me—I dumped him!" He jammed his face into Melina's, peering closely at her. "What is it about John Morrison, anyway? I've beaten that has-been twice—what could you possibly see in him?"

The slap rocked him back a step. Melina glared up at him, the momentary fear and shock in her dark eyes giving way to anger. "Because he's not you!" the Dominant Diva snapped. "And because he never will be!" The Diva's Champion wriggled free of his grip, backing away from the Cleveland native. "And if you touch me again…you'll regret it."

Her slap had snapped his head to the side, so Miz never saw her run away, only heard the rapid staccato of her heels on the cement floor. Slowly, the United States Champion straightened up, rubbing his bruised cheek. He'd forgotten how hard the little bitch could hit.

He stared down the hallway. Melina had disappeared, but Miz could still see her in his mind's eye, could still see the disdainful look on her face, could still hear the contempt in her voice as she shot him down…

I don't want you

Who was she kidding? He was the Chick Magnet—every woman wanted him.

Miz's blue eyes narrowed. So Melina didn't want him? That was okay. He would follow her, chase her down, hound her every second until she did.

And if, in the end, he still couldn't have her…then no one else could.