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Alberto Del Rio huffs at the email sent to him from WWE, alerting him just before he'd planned on getting ready to leave for the arena that his tag match with The Miz vs Big E. and Wade Barrett had been canceled. "Idiotas," he breathes, frowning at the unexpected free time that he suddenly is finding himself with. "Ricardo," he says, deciding to try to make the best of it. "I just received..." His words die away as he takes in the startled look on his ring announcer's face while he stares at his phone. "Is something the matter?" Suddenly worried, he walks over to the other man and rests a hand on his shoulder, startling him. "Lo siento! Ricardo, are you alright?"
"Oh, El Patron! No, no, everything's fine," he says, shaking his head with a hesitant smile. "I just... received an odd email from WWE," he explains. "What- what were you trying to say to me?"
"I received an email from WWE too," he answers, frowning at the look on Ricardo's face. "Trade?" When the ring announcer nods, handing his phone over and receiving Alberto's, they read each other's screens quietly. "Huh," he mutters. "Commentary?"
"Si," he says, distracted as he frowns down at Del Rio's phone. "I'm sorry your match was canceled, El Patron." He glances at the clock and blinks, murmuring to himself before reaching out for his own phone. "Ay dios mio, if I'm going to arrive at the arena in time, I should get ready now!" Alberto blinks and takes his phone back, holding Ricardo's out to him before he dashes for the bathroom. At the doorway, he pauses and looks back at his employer, uncertain. "Um, do you wish to come with me tonight? I- I know you don't have a match, but..."
Del Rio stares at him for a moment before turning to sit at the desk, shuffling some papers on there into some semblance of order. "No, I believe I will stay here tonight, organize our schedule for the next week."
Ricardo blinks. "Oh. Ok." Disappointment and uncertainty warring within him, he hesitantly enters the bathroom to get ready to go, alone. Once in his tux and done working his hair over, he ventures out of the bathroom and looks at his employer, swallowing. "Um, alright, El Patron, I'm going." Alberto says nothing, still pouring over the pages, and Ricardo's face falls further. He takes a breath and walks over to him, burying his fingers in the older man's hair before pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. "I'll be back in about an hour." Receiving no response from him again, Ricardo pulls away painfully and turns to the door, each step heavy as he dwells on Del Rio's slight due to this strange new stage in his WWE career. He glances over his shoulder, fighting not to just run back into the room and refuse to go, give up this opportunity, when the Mexican aristocrat once more doesn't acknowledge him.
It takes a few minutes for the silence following the loud click of the door shutting to register with the stubborn man but eventually his eyes move upwards, taking in the quiet, empty room. Alberto frowns, brows furrowing even as he leans back over the pages scattered around the desk. Unable to focus, he sweeps an arm across the surface, sending the pages to the floor in a fluttery mess. Pressing a hand to his face, he shakes his head, hating how everything feels so wrong right now.
Finally he makes it to his feet and wanders over to the bed, slumping down on the sheets next to one of Ricardo's abandoned shirts, smiling half-heartedly at it. His eye catches sight of the clock then, lips twisting into a frown as he realizes Main Event is starting in a few minutes. He can picture his ring announcer sitting at the commentary table next to Josh Mathews and The Miz, his hands twisting nervously as they wait for the cue. "Ay dios mio, why am I here?" he wonders, suddenly feeling guilty for leaving the horribly anxious man to face this unexpected situation all on his own. Because I am a fool, pitching a fit due to my match being canceled last moment, while Ricardo is given something to do. He sighs. "Ricardo..."
Grabbing the remote, he turns the TV on and settles in against the pillows to watch, face brightening when his ring announcer is shown, smiling into the camera and fussing with his bowtie as Miz introduces him. Most of the commentary is dominated by Mike and Josh, Ricardo speaking up when asked questions of or sometimes interjecting during the matches, Alberto grinning when the younger man starts rambling in Spanish in his excitement, his unquenchable enjoyment of the business even after everything he'd endured shining through. When the show ends, he clicks the TV back off and returns to the desk by the doors to wait for Ricardo, to make his earlier stupidity right as soon as he returns.
He hears his ring announcer at the door a little bit later, his voice just audible through the door as Alberto gets to his feet to greet the younger man. "Gracias, Miz," he says, the door beeping as he pushes it open. He doesn't seem to notice Del Rio, his eyes cast on the ground while he pushes the door shut behind him, walking past him quietly and slumping down on the edge of bed, staring blankly at his bowtie crushed in his fist, as Alberto watches him, troubled and guilty.
"Ricardo," he breathes, heart wrenching at the look on what of his face he can see. He rushes over to him and kneels down in front of him, hands warm and steady on his knees. "Lo siento, lo siento. I should've gone with you, please... don't look so sad, I was being a brat because of my match getting canceled last moment. I'll be with you next week. Everything will be-" But the ring announcer is shaking his head, sniffing slightly, and Alberto cuts himself off. "What?"
"It's not you, entirely," he mumbles. "I doubt there'll be a next week." He finally looks up and smiles painfully, his breath stuttering out of him. "I messed up so badly. I just... I rambled in Spanish, annoyed Josh, and- I didn't add anything important to the show, I answered all of Josh's questions so stupidly. Miz is probably regretting that he selected me now." He twists his hands together until Alberto seizes them, rubbing them together briskly before bringing them to his lips in a comforting kiss.
"No, no, Ricardo. I watched, and considering everything, you did fine." Seeing lingering doubts in the young man's eyes, Alberto sighs. "Oh Ricardo." He strokes his knuckles and smiles sadly. "Listen, it was your first week. On top of that, not only were you probably still off-balance from my... moment of thoughtless stupidity earlier, you've... never had much of a chance to speak very often in the WWE. Part of that is my fault, I should've encouraged you, ensured your confidence in circumstances like this. The way Mathews kept throwing questions at you, anyone would've been flustered." He shifts, moving to sit next to Ricardo, and wraps an arm around him, drawing him nearer to lean against him. "As for Miz, choosing you was the best decision he's made in his whole career. You probably just need time to adjust to this role. It'll be fine, no matter what happens. I'm just proud of you for even trying this, considering how last minute it was thrown into your lap."
Ricardo wipes at his face and looks at him, smiling wanly. "Really, El Patron?"
"Of course." He smiles back at him and cups his jaw, kissing the top of his head as he'd done to him earlier, and pulls back, brushing at his cheeks. "You're one of the strongest people I know. No matter what happens, you always get back on your feet and try and try and try again. It's beyond commendable."
"Gracias." Ricardo's smile still looks sad and Alberto's heart hurts to look at him.
He leans closer and smiles down at him, shaking his head. "Whatever you decide, Ricardo, I'll be by your side from here on out. I promise." He kisses him, still apologetic and gentle, only holding onto him tighter, the kiss subtly more intense, when Ricardo nods, his smile becoming somewhat happier.