A/N: I feel like I haven't posted anything in, like, ever. I was reading Miz's twitter and he said he was going to fuck a playboy bunny that night. Then recently Maryse said she woke up and realized how lucky she was and how incredible 'he' was. I think they're dating... but that's just me. Ha ha. Rumors were that they dated awhile ago. Maybe they still are? Ah well. Enjoy.
They said I was a player. They said I'd be the reason this relationship failed. They said our lifestyles would ruin us. They said I'd never be able to keep my hands to myself. They said she was to good for a guy like me. They were so backwards it's almost funny.
Maryse Ouellet changed me. I stopped partying every night and when I did go out, I was with her. I never even looked at another girl. I quit having random chicks back at my hotel room, and instead I cuddled with Maryse, yes I cuddled. I'd bring her flowers just for the hell of it, and would always have a bottle of her favorite red wine for her if she wanted it.
Maryse was everything I'd ever wanted in a girl. Gorgeous, smart, sweet, talented (not just in the ring if you catch my drift), and fun. She was the perfect girlfriend without a doubt. Or so I thought....
xXxXxXxXxXXxXxXx
"Hey, babe, have you seen my pants?" I asked as I sat on my knees in front of my suitcase, digging through it.
"You mean the ones you have on, Mike?" Maryse said as she stuck her head out the bathroom door.
"No, the other ones," I sighed. "Those tan things my mom got me for my birthday back in October."
"You mean the khaki pants?" Maryse question.
"Yeah, those," I said, rising from where I'd been bent down and turning to face her.
"I put them in the closet," she smiled before returning back into the bathroom.
"Thanks, babe," I said loudly to her so she could hear from her spot probably in front of the mirror.
"Pourquoi avez-vous besoin d'eux?" she yelled to me as I opened the closet door and pulled out one of the few items in it.
It was hot when she spoke french, to bad I never understood any of it. "Could you repeat that in English, baby?"
I heard her giggle. "Why do you need them?"
"Babe!" I yelled. "How could you forget?!"
I pulled out the pants and threw them on the bed, and then walked into the bathroom to stand in the doorway, where she was, like I said, standing in front of the mirror, running a hairbrush through her long blond hair, wearing only a white towel around her slim body.
"Forget what?" she asked.
"My grandparents 50th anniversary! We promised my folks we'd be there," I said, leaning against the doorway.
"Oh yeah.... I guess I just forgot..." she said softly, slowly placing the brush on the edge of the sink.
"What? You didn't make other plans did you?" I asked, walking over to stand beside her.
She bit her lip and looked up at my sheepishly. "I'm so sorry, baby."
I'd always loved my family, and my grandparents had always been important to me. I'd been really eager for them to meet my girlfriend. I sighed. "It's alright I guess. You can see them some other time."
"Yeah, some other time," she repeated, smiling softly.
"So, what, do you have another autograph signing tonight?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist.
"Um, yeah, an autograph signing," she nodded, resting her hands my arms.
"Well have fun," I leaned down, kissing her forehead, letting my lips linger for a long time. Finally I pulled away, only to lean right back down to peck her lips. I released her from my grip and watched she was went back to brushing her hair.
"Quel amant mentant je suis," I heard her mutter under her breath as I walked out of the bathroom. I turned back to her.
"What'd ya say, babe?" I asked. She looked at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes, like she was shocked I'd heard her.
"Nothing..." she said. "Nothing."
I smiled, shrugging it off. I turned back around and went to get ready. God she was perfect.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXX
I had arrived at the building for my grandparents party just a half hour after I left the hotel. The party lasted a good few hours, and it was pretty late when I finally made my way back inside my hotel room. After listening of tons of oldie music and smelling that old person smell, it was gonna be nice to just relax with my lovely and loyal... WHAT!?
I had just opened the door to the hotel room, and my eyes instantly fell upon the bed. I had expected to see Maryse laying there, which I did, but she wasn't alone.
In the bed, pulled under the covers, both from what I could tell naked, holding each other close, kissing gently, was Maryse... and Randy Orton.
RANDY ORTON! Didn't that prick have a wife and kid at home!? And here he was, naked, in MY hotel room, in bed with MY girlfriend! I couldn't breathe... my heart was beating fast... I think I was dead. I was obviously in hell, cause I could still see the two of them in bed together, he had moved down and was now sucking on her neck. God this was a nightmare! Oh wait, it was hell, of course....
I was shaken from my thoughts from hell when I heard a gasp. "Mike...."
"Shit...." Orton mumbled.
"Mike, let me explain!" she screamed, as if I was planning on running out of there. I was froze. The chances of me even blinking were one in a million.
"How can you explain this?" I said barely above a whisper. "You're cheating on me..."
"Mike, no!" she exclaimed.
"Oh... so your not fucking Orton?"
"Well...." she started.
"Figures," I sighed. "The one girl I decide to change for and she's nothing more then what I used to be."
"Mikey..." she squeaked out, and I could tell tears were coming. I closed my eyes, knowing that if I saw her cry, I'd forgive her so easily.
"I'm gonna go..." I heard Orton mumble. The room was silent as he pulled on his clothes and exited the room.
It was just me and her.
"Mikey," she repeated, and I opened my eyes to see her wiping a tear of her cheek. I fought the urge to go wipe them for her.
"What?" I snapped, using the angriest voice I could. Truth be told, I was to heartbroken to be mad.
"I'm sorry....." she sobbed. Then, under her breath, she added, "Quel amant mentant je suis."
"What does that mean!?" I yelled.
"Nothing...." she muttered.
"God, Maryse..... You know Orton has a wife and a kid don't you!?" I shouted.
"Yes...." she sniffled.
"If word gets out about you two, not only will our relationship still be over, but his will be too!"
"I know...."
"And don't you care!? Didn't he care!?" I scoffed. "Did you even love him?!"
"No...." she shook her head solomly, looking down at her hands, which she had curled up in her lap. She was sitting indian style from what I could tell, and she was holding the blanket up over her by holding it under her arms.
"Then why'd you do it?" I whimpered. Great, now I might cry. Way to be a man.
"I don't know...." Maryse sobbed, breaking into a fresh batch of tears.
"Wonderful, this is just wonderful!" I yelled, running a hand of my face. "So you just cheated on me for no reason, huh!? Dammit, Maryse... how long were you screwing him!?"
She shrugged.
"You do to know, Maryse! Your not stupid, you know you long you've been cheating on your boyfriend!"
"About a month....maybe two....." she said quietly.
I ran my hand over my face again. "I'll see you later, Maryse... I'll come back for my stuff in the morning."
"Mike!" she shouted as I made my way to the door. I ignored her.
As I exited the room, I faintly heard her say. "Quel amant mentant je suis."
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
"Mike!?!" the lay of the night before shouted at me as I sat in bed, taking a drag off a cigarette.
"Why are you still here, Heather?" I asked without taking my eyes off of the TV set.
"It's Michaela!" she shouted.
"Doesn't matter...." I said, not caring in the least. "You didn't answer my question."
"Why do I have to leave!?" she shrieked. God, she was a real fireball. Remind me never to pick up another redhead....
"Cause I don't care about you in the least bit," I said, honestly, before taking another drag from my cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray on the night stand beside me.
"Ugh! That's not what you said last night!" she screamed. "You said that it was love at first sight and that you cared about me! I let you have sex with me!"
I rolled my eyes before turning my head to look at her. Not caring that I was probably butchering the pronunciation, I smirked. "Quel amant mentant je suis."
"What the hell does that mean!?" she yelled.
"What a lying lover I am."
A/N: I actually like this. Reviews are always appreciated.
