Summary: John Cena knew Julia Martin had trouble written all over her. But, he wanted to proof read every part of her before he could really say she was trouble. Sometimes in order to find real love, you have to get into some trouble. And John Cena didn't mind getting into trouble.

For John Cena the night couldn't get any worse—Eric Bischoff was giving him bull, Jericho was being a dick, his back was killing him, and tonight would be the last night that his best friend Randy Orton would be able to hangout with him on RAW. Being he was traded to Smackdown during the draft, he was only giving time for his shoulder to completely heal and then he would be off to his rightful brand.

Stopping to pick up a bottle of water from the convenience table, John twisted the top off and took a gulp of it. When he was half way finished, he proceeded to his locker room, but stopped again when he heard a female laughing in the back of him. Turning around he found none other then the walking bed post as he liked to call her Lita. To him it was one thing to act like a whore in the storylines, but to be one outside of the WWE was another thing. Tempted to ask her what she thought was so funny, John decided otherwise and continued to his locker room. Opening the door, he wasn't surprised to find Randy lounging around inside. But what surprised him was finding Randy reading the same magazine that Lita was reading. When Randy noticed him he tried to roll the paper up in his hand.

"What are you hiding?" John asked

" What? Nothing man! Nice FU on Bischoff." Randy replied

" Let me have the magazine Randy," John stated as he dropped himself on the couch in front of him. Randy seemed as if he wasn't going to give it to him, so John reached forward and took it out of his hands. Randy sighed as John carefully looked through the magazine—the latest issue of RAW to be exact. After a few moments John stopped on a page and read over the contents. Randy figured he found the article he was reading previously before he walked in. Seconds turned into minutes as the expressions on John's face turned from blank to quick growing anger.

" What the fuck is this shit!" John demanded looking for the editor who wrote the article. Randy groaned as he quickly tried to think of a way to calm him down.

" John, relax! It's just a stupid article. Strictly meant to cause something to talk about." Randy said

" The son of bitch said quote on quote, " John Cena still reminds some viewers as a Mark Walberg of wrestling. His rap album made as much as a no name rapper would on EBay." What the fuck! Where the hell can I find this clown? J.I.M!" John complained

" John man relax! Don't go looking for the guy, it's not worth it!" Randy replied, but he might as well of told him the opposite. John rose up from the couch and headed out of the room in search for someone who could give him answers as to where he could find this J.I.M. As he turned a corner, John stopped himself before he collided with someone.

" My bad, I'm sorry." John apologized as he looked at the person in front of him closely. It was as if the thought of handing J.I.M's ass to him fell far from John's mind as had to hold his lip between his teeth to stop his jaw from dropping. The person in front of him was beautiful. A woman looking around her early twenties looked up at him oddly. John was so lost in her deep green eyes that she could have told him the building was burning down and he still couldn't move. She had waist long black hair, her skin was like caramel—John was nearly tempted to see if she was as sweet as caramel. She was wearing dark denim jeans that hung low on her hips. Damn those hips, John thought as he had to pry his eyes away from them. Looking at her shoes he was surprised to see she was wearing sneakers, not many of the divas wore sneakers backstage. She had nice taste he admitted as he realized they were New Balance. He eyes wondered back up and found a white loosely button silk satin shirt flattering her upper body. This unfortunately made John loose his train of thought as he was staring at her chest.

" Excuse me sweetie, I can't hear you up here." she speaks, John thought as her French manicured nails reached down and brought his chin up to met her gaze

" I'm so sorry! I…' John tried to search for an excuse.

" Was lost in my bosom." she finished for him, " John Cena—the doctor of Thug o'Nomics. You look like a man on a mission."

" And you look like a woman who should have a license for being that damn fine." John commented

" Cute." she replied

" Give me a minute and I can be adorable." John said as she snickered, " And what do we call an angel with such a pretty smile?"

" Jim….Julia Iysela Martin." she replied as John's mouth dropped