December 2010
Bobby was back in the locker room, glancing over the sheets for Reaction. He and James were scheduled to talk more about Beer Money's chase for the tag titles for at least ten minutes, and while James could come up with hilarious lines off the top of his head, he had to sit and map his out. Another wrestler wished him a good night and Bobby nodded back, his mind already far away.
The door opened and a production assistant stuck his head in.
"Mr. Roode? Mr. Bischoff needs to see you."
Great. Another sit down with Eric. That was the last thing he needed right now. He sighed inwardly and trudged down the hall, making sure to take the sheet with him to note Eric's inevitable changes. He knocked on the door quickly and walked in.
"Bobby, glad you're here," Eric said. He rose, looked up and down the hallway, and then closed the door. Bobby's pulse jumped a bit in alarm. Eric seemed a little agitated today, and that always meant huge changes. Was he going to have to talk about something else entirely? He'd hardly gotten started!
"I'm glad you brought your Reaction sheets. There are going to be some changes."
Naturally.
"The first thing is, though, Reaction is going to be cancelled. These last two episodes that we're filming are it. They aren't bringing in the ratings that Spike is looking for and the production costs are too high. I'm really disappointed because this helped us get angles over, but what are you going to do, right?" Eric shrugged. "The network has made the decision and it's final. I argued for it, I argued long and hard, tried to explain to them how wrestling is in the new millennium, but the suits don't want to hear it. However, that isn't why I called you in here."
Bobby waited. Eric, unusually for him, seemed to be searching for words. Most times he was so talkative you could start reading a magazine while he ran on and on and finish it before he made his first point.
Eric put both hands on the desk. "There's just no way to say this diplomatically. The suits are uncomfortable with the dynamic between you and AJ Styles."
"What do you mean? We're friends. We have good chemistry together. Do they want us to hate each other?"
"It's just that there has been a lot of" - Eric picked up a memo and scanned it, and Bobby's heart sank a little - "suggestive touching on your part. The production people have picked up on it. I have some notes here from the last meeting and we had a lot of complaints about the last two episodes. For example, during the Fortune backstage promos, after AJ took off his shirt, you drew circles on his shoulder. Three times while he was talking you licked your lips. Three times, Bobby. The last episode, when he spoke about Doug Williams, you crowded out the other Fortune members to put your arms around him. And in the episode before those two, you stroked his chest with the back of your hand. These things were noticed, Bobby. You know what kind of show this is. You know what kind of place this is. And if the production people are noticing, Bobby, then we have a problem. When the suits are coming down on me and specifically bringing your conduct up as a reason they're cancelling the show, we have a problem. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
Bobby didn't speak for a minute. "Eric, I assure you, there's nothing going on."
A nod from Eric. "I'm aware. I'm not bringing AJ into this, because I know AJ and I know where his head is. God knows he has some issues with the hardcore Christian thing and all. Back on point - I've seen the shows. The action is all one sided, and it's all coming from you. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." The hard lump in Bobby's heart grew a little bigger.
"Good. Bobby, honestly, I don't care what you do in your personal life. But I care about the show, and I know that we want to push you hard as a happily married guy with kids. So you need to play the happily married guy on camera. So does AJ. The wrestling business is still very fucking backwards. You know it and I know it, and while it sucks we have to play our positions if we want to stay employed. The suits were very insistent about that part. I hate having to bring you in and have this discussion with you, but it's my job. And it's my job to realign the show to keep you two apart for the last two episodes. So, please note, your content hasn't changed. I need you to be aware of where you're standing and what you're doing with your body. Do not touch AJ. Don't overly defend him or...well, whatever. Treat him like a prop. Pretend he's me, if that works. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Again, Bobby, I'm sorry."
"No, no, it's fine. It is what it is. I got to get back to rehearsing though."
"Right. You still have half an hour. Get to it."
Bobby got up and walked out of the office. Down the hall. Back to the locker room. And once back by the lockers, he looked at his suitcase and nearly kicked it out of frustration. He kept trying to get a handle on his feelings and they kept leaking out in so many ways. It was one thing to be in love with a guy who was straight and hyper-religious; it was yet another to be told you can't even lie convincingly in an industry where you lie in front of an audience every night. It was too much. Just too much.
Bobby gripped his sheet again and started rehearsing his lines. And when AJ came in the room with his own sheet, he didn't look up.