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It's your time to shine!

Seth had spoken those five simple words, just before Roman went on to bring home a win for their power team by eliminating four men from the battle royal: Jimmy Uso, Cody Rhodes, Goldust, and Rey Mysterio, respectively. He had pinned four sets of shoulders to the mat, amidst cheers and gasps from the Boston crowd in attendance, and for the first time in his stable's one-year anniversary, the WWE felt like home. The WWE was his home. Years of being a team player and taking the backseat to those with more obvious talents and special abilities had all been worth the wait, building up to what was essentially his time to shine, as no one knew better than his two loyal teammates, who had been waiting near Gorilla position in the back to greet him the second he stepped through the curtain.

Vince was first to shake Roman's hand, followed by Paul, and Stephanie gave her classic nod of approval that cinched the start of a supreme reign. He was officially on his way up the corporate ladder, moving onto lands previously roamed only by his admittedly much more famous cousin, the one and only Dwayne Johnson. As he accepted handshakes and back pats from the guys, covering his eyes when he walked through a celebratory stream of champagne being aimed his way, he felt like a winner, like the champion he had strived so diligently to become someday. An arm locked around his wrist, then another arm on the opposite side, and he allowed himself to be guided by his pals, as Dean and Seth led him through the stuffy, crowded halls and into the comfort of their shared locker room.

Roman dropped onto the couch, slapping his hand against the cushion several times in a row, in a show of elation, as Dean and Seth hooted and hollered for his win. His rise to the top ranks of the company was bittersweet, as the current plans called for him to reach the mountain's peak on his own, but his hope was that the higher-ups would soon realize the potential in Seth and Dean so they could make the trek alongside him. "Yeah, man!" Roman shouted. "That's what I'm talking about. That match was the shit!"

"You're tellin' me," Seth said. "I was damn near as excited for you to win the entire thing as I would have been for myself."

"It was an awesome match for the entire seven seconds I was a part of it," Dean joked, dropping onto the couch beside Roman. "I damn near may as well have stayed back here to watch the whole thing."

"Nah, it was cool having you out there," Roman said. When he dipped his head, his raven locks fell into his face like a curtain, and he swiped a hand over his forehead, tossing the offending hair back over his broad shoulders. Seth went to the mini-refrigerator and pulled out a cold bottle of water, holding it in the air, as if to ask whether or not Roman wanted it. He gave a nod and Seth tossed it over, grabbing one for himself and shutting the door.

"What the hell?" Dean outstretched his arms, rearing for a fight, even if it was only a playful battle. "Am I chopped liver or something? Roman can get some water, but just because I was first out of the match, I can't get a damn thing? I see how it is."

"Oh, shut up, you crybaby," Seth rolled his eyes, venturing into their refrigerator a second time and tossing a water bottle to Dean, who immediately popped the top and gulped it down like it was the first bit of hydration he had gotten all week. Seth leaned back against the wall, bending his left leg at the knee and pressing the sole of his foot into the stucco, while balancing his other foot on the floor. "I'm proud of you, Roman, seriously. We've come a long way from where we were a year ago, when nobody really knew or cared who we were. Now, every night when we get ready for our entrance, all the fans at the concession stands stare and call out to us. It's like we became overnight celebrities in the wrestling world."

"That we did," Dean winked, executing a firing gun motion with his right hand and directing it across the room at a highly amused Seth. "And you know what our newfound celebrity status gets us? Girls."

"If by girls you actually mean STD-ridden tramps, then I'll agree with that," Seth said. "But if by girls you mean actual, quality girls, then...no. Just...no."

"Fuck off, dude. I haven't gotten any damn diseases from a girl yet, and I've been with a whole lot of 'em. I protect myself in the bedroom," Dean puffed his chest out defensively, scooting forward on the couch. "You're just jealous that you don't have women practically ripping your shirt off and clawing at your back every time you arrive at the hotel after a show. Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful. Just don't do it, bro."

"Sure, whatever," Seth cracked a smile, egged on by Roman, who gave him the nod to dig the knife in a little deeper with Dean. "So, how's Hellena Heavenly these days? You guys still got something going on, or have you moved onto bigger, better girls? Although, it doesn't get much bigger than that broad."

"Screw you," Dean crossed his arms, and Roman hunched over, slapping his knee as he cackled at the huffy indignity that had taken over Dean's entire demeanor. They always knew how to get to him in the worst ways possible, but that's what fed into their brotherhood's undying strength. They wouldn't have been true friends if they couldn't poke fun at one another every once in a while. Seth stood by, snickering as he played off of Roman's reaction, and they let their nonchalant prodding continue on in silence, until Dean finally grew tired of it. "Are you two done yet?"

"We are, if you are," Seth shrugged, whipping a clean towel off the back of a lone steel chair and tossing it over his shoulder. "And on that note, I'm gonna go grab a shower," he said, gesturing to Dean with his thumb, as he regarded Roman. "Good luck with this guy."

"Yeah, thanks, I'm gonna need it," he laughed, wiping the smirk off his face when Dean glared at him. Seth disappeared behind the bathroom door, and Roman grabbed the remote control for their personal monitor, turning up the volume so he could focus on the current match, a vicious bout between Big E Langston and Curtis Axel. Even before he glanced over, he felt Dean's controlled gaze, shooting through him like a laser beam, and he tossed the remote aside to take care of business. "I can't watch this one match in peace, Dean?"

"You can worry about peace while you're baking cookies at your grandma's house. Now's the time for something way better than peace," Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows in that familiar way that alerted Roman he was entertaining a new, terrible idea of some sort. It was like watching the makings of a tornado and being powerless to move out of its path. "I think it's time we get some of the girls in here to celebrate our team's win tonight. You know how flighty the Divas are. They'll start wanting to hang out with you just because you're getting a push, and Seth and I can reap the benefits of that if you bring them in here."

"Are you sure Seth even wants in on this? From where I'm sitting, it seems like you're the only one thinking about women at a time like this," Roman said.

It would have been a lie to pretend as if none of the Divas had caught Roman's eye over the course of the year, but most of them were taken by their fellow coworkers, and the ones who weren't hadn't made their intentions clear one way or the other, so the chances of a solid relationship forming were slim to none. Still, as much as Roman would have preferred to find a woman outside of the business, it was difficult to meet someone willing to wait at home each and every week while he was off traveling from one city to the next, all in the name of bringing his dreams to fruition. Few women were dedicated or loyal enough to remain faithful in his absence, which he found somewhat understandable. His assumptions had always led him to believe he would one day have a family of his own, but getting there was going to be a workload all its own.

"A little birdie told me you've had your eye on that sexy, red-headed number they just brought in," Dean said, staring down at his nails as he tried to slip his words in casually. His poor attempt at indifference to the subject wasn't going to fool Roman a single bit.

"If you're talking about Eva Marie, you are so barking up the wrong tree. That chick isn't my type for multiple reasons, and you know it."

"I'm just sayin'," Dean shrugged. He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, despite the fact that they were the only two people in the immediate area and there was no way Seth could make out their conversation over the running shower water. It was just like Dean to go for dramatic effect. If his in-ring career didn't work out, he could always make it as an actor in Hollywood, since unnecessary drama seemed to be his specialty. "I heard from Seth that you were checking her out in catering today, and if you like her, I could put in a good word for you, especially now that you're getting so much attention."

"Didn't you just hear me? I don'tlike her," Roman said, dragging the statement out comically slow and taking a page from Dr. Seuss's playbook next, all in the name of fun. "I would not like her in a boat, I would not like her on a goat, I would not like her here or there, I would not like her anywhere."

He caught Dean's eye and they settled into an awkward stare-off, neither man blinking, or even bothering to breathe. Roman struggled against his natural impulse to roll his eyes at Dean's antics, although he was enjoying the distraction from the mounting pressures of what it could mean to move up the ranks as a true contender in such a short amount of time. The makings of a laugh settled in his chest and threatened to flow out freely, but he bit it down, willing himself not to lose the infantile war they had waged upon one another. Roman prayed nobody would pick that moment to walk in the door, catching his gazing into his friend's eyes like a dope. He couldn't imagine the conversation that might develop as a result.

In order to save face without submitting to defeat, Roman slugged Dean in the arm without warning, a little harder than he meant to, and Dean crumpled against the couch cushions, groaning as he held his bicep. "What the hell? That's cheating!"

"Yeah, well I didn't want to play anymore."

"You're just..." he paused, letting out another whiny moan, "you're only mad because I told the truth, and you can't handle it. You like Eva Marie!"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Grow up," Roman said, trying in vain to focus on the match playing across the television screen, but Dean saw fit to egg him on, whispering under his breath about the appeal of Eva's flashy red hair and what beautiful babies Roman could have with her someday. "Would you shut the hell up already? I'm trying to watch the match...damn it," he hissed. "See? It's over now. Thanks for making it impossible for me to watch, asshat."

"Asshat?" Dean smirked. "I don't get why people even use that word. If you really think about it, it doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" Seth asked, exiting the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Over the course of Dean's antics, neither man had heard the shower turn off. Seth stood over his work bag, sorting through its contents for the clean set of street clothes he had brought to change into after his match, his soaking hair dripping onto the carpet below, leaving a trail of small circles in its wake.

"Dean doesn't understand the term asshat," Roman explained. "I called him one just now, but he claims it doesn't make sense."

Dean added, "Because it doesn't."

"It's pretty obvious what it means, man," Seth said, keeping his back turned to them as he searched for his clothing. "I've always understood it to be when you have your head stuck so far up your ass, you're wearing it like a hat; hence the term, 'asshat'. Get it?"

"Hey, don't be so condescending," Dean shot back, expressing mock anger.

"Then don't be an asshat," Seth said, Roman joining him in laughter. Dean rose from the couch, and they both turned to see where he was going.

"I'm out of here. I'm sick of being the butt of your jokes. When you two are ready to apologize, come and find me," he joked, walking over to the door and tugging on the handle. "I'll be the one swimming in hot chicks, so if you see a crowd of 'em, check for me in the center."

"Sure, we'll do that," Seth said, humoring him. With Dean out of the room, Roman saw an open opportunity for setting the record straight.

He asked, "Did you tell Dean I'm into Eva Marie?"

"Well, aren't you?" Seth asked, twisting his body around to meet his gaze. "Seems pretty obvious to me."

"Whatever," Roman bit back a growl and stood. "If you're done in the bathroom, I'm gonna get showered. I can't stand sitting around in my own sweat and grime."

"Yeah, go for it," Seth answered.

Roman clamped his eyes shut when the jet stream of hot water finally hit his skin, and he struggled not to sigh in relief, lest he be mocked by Seth when he left the bathroom. In light of management taking special notice of Roman, placing him on a pedestal he had long aspired to reach, he couldn't think of a better time to release his inhibitions. He imagined lying in his hotel room later that evening, cell phone ringing off the hook as family and friends alike called to offer their words of congratulations, and the thought made him smile. For the first time, he felt like a true champion, without yet being in possession of a championship, and even the slightest taste of topping the wrestling food chain made him crave more.

Seth and Dean were essentially his brothers, having entered the company by his side and learned the ropes along with him, experiencing the ins and outs of a business they had dreamed of finding success in since childhood. Yet, Roman had been plucked from the group, the sole talent that all of the bosses saw potential in, and he couldn't help but wonder what he had done that Seth and Dean hadn't. Perhaps he possessed a certain onscreen charisma they didn't display, or maybe he had wowed them with his in-ring athleticism. There was also the acute possibility that Vince's bias toward a hulking frame, one which Roman just so happened to naturally exude, played a big role in his push, but, regardless of their reasoning, he had left the others in the dust.

His heart grew hazy with conflict as he redressed and tugged his hair into a low ponytail, noticing his chest was puffed out a little more arrogantly than he would have liked. He passed Seth on the way to his duffel bag, conflicted as he fought against the urge not to glance right over the other man's head so he wouldn't have to force conversation about all the new opportunities opening up to him that Seth and Dean weren't getting. The climb to the top didn't come without its negative points, and Roman was already suffering the side effects, trapped in a suddenly haughty disposition that he couldn't shake. He felt himself falling into a trapdoor of sinful pride that he didn't have the leverage to pull himself out of, but he would always remain who he was at his core.

When John Cena and Randy Orton stopped by the Shield locker room, wanting to hang out with Roman after-hours and for the first time since the rookie's arrival into the company, it was an opportunity too good to turn away. Roman blew off the safe bet, his set plans with Dean and Seth, under the hope that they would understand his desire to spend time with the big players in the company. Had he been aware enough to realize what a pivotal turning point his decision had set in motion, he might not have shunned his friends for a night of cheap thrills, but he went on his way, thinking he could simply make it up to them the next day. Such was the major issue in finding success so hurriedly; it tended to make those who gained it forget where they had come from, tugging them away from their roots of origin.

At the show's end, Seth ventured straight out to the rental car, figuring Dean knew to meet him there, which he did, only a matter of minutes after Seth's initial arrival. Dean glanced around, chomping noisily on his chewing gum, and Seth answered his question before he could vocalize it. "He's gone. Went to hang with Cena and Orton for the night."

"Damn, that sucks. I thought we had plans," Dean said, tossing his bag into the backseat. Seth threw him the car keys so he could make the drive back to the hotel, and they climbed into the vehicle, ready for the drive back.

"We did. I'm glad he's a success and is getting the attention he wanted, but I wish we were getting it with him," Seth admitted. Dean pulled out of their parking space, ignoring the screaming fans behind the barricade, simply because he could. Seth chuckled, peering out of his window at the rabid voyeurs who were capturing their grand exit on videotape. "Why don't you just wave to them? You know you want to. You love the attention."

"Nah, I like to make 'em want me, then leave 'em hangin'. It's fun."

Seth laughed. "Sure it is."

"What were you saying, though?"

"Nothing," Seth shrugged, scratching absently at his arm. Somehow, their car ride just didn't seem the same without Roman in the back, interjecting in their conversations and taking verbal jabs at Dean, as had been their typical traveling dynamic for their past year on the road. They were a solid group, now missing a significant member, and Seth wasn't sure how to deal, but Dean wasn't too terribly concerned, so Seth tried to let his reservations go. "I just wish we were going to the top with him. Not for selfish reasons, but I can't help but feel like he's going to forget all about us when he gets the first taste of a championship win. He's already left us behind tonight, and all he did was win a match."

"Not just any match, but a match that was a team effort."

"Exactly. That's my main point."

"I don't think it's anything to worry about, though," Dean said, applying pressure to the brake pedal as he slowed behind a lengthy stream of cars, all in the process of exiting the parking lot. They were in for quite a wait. "He just wants to have some fun with guys he never gets to hang out with. I'm sure this will all blow over by the time we get to Raw tomorrow night."

"I hope so," Seth said, still unable to shake the slight twinge of uncertainty that had found its home in his gut. "This is why I hate being a part of a group effort, though. You can only hold the foundation together for so long before someone starts to pull away."

Dean glanced over. "And then what happens?"

"The foundation cracks," Seth replied, "and then it all falls down."