Something's wrong
Trying to conquer these fears I thought were gone
And it's been so long
I'm dying to live in a world I don't belong
John Cena dropped his bags on the floor of his hotel room at the end of the night, relieved to be in his own space. Life on the road was difficult, and usually it was something he never minded, but tonight, he needed to be alone with his thoughts. Leaving his bags in front of the door, closing the door with his foot, not turning to face the door, he made his way over to the queen sized bed and sat down at the foot. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his bag that he was ready to drink. He was curious about how much of it he could drink before the sun rose. It was already five minutes to one in the morning. He had left the arena, just randomly driving around.
Mickie James lay in the bed in her hotel room, tossing and turning. It had been a long night for her, where she had narrowly escaped her match against Beth Phoenix with the Women's Championship. The title was rested on a chair in her hotel room, the embroidered name on the plate staring back at her, constantly reminding her that at the moment, she was the top Diva in the company, and that there was nothing that any WWE Diva could do to change that.
Now here he was, sitting at the hotel, trying to unwind from a long day. He had an autograph signing until nine o'clock the night before, and then had gone out to dinner with some family. Afterwards, he had slept for about four hours, jumped on a plane and flown halfway across the country for a radio appearance, followed by reporting to the arena to go over the night's events with Hunter. It was a week before the draft and the big buzz around the company was that creative wanted to send him to SmackDown; the word was that he had become stale, irrelevant, just one of Vince's pets that was stuck in the main event status for no reason. They just looked at his character, and they failed to pay attention to the blood, the sweat, the tears that he had given to the company in the past six years. The evolution from the tights to the rapping to just being an amplified version of his laid back old self.
She thought back to her days in the independent scene, working at Olive Garden and dreaming of the day when she would be playing with the big boys and girls in the big leagues, holding the Women's Championship and making the fans roar for her every time she stepped through the curtains. She had put so much of her life on hold, but she had used her time wisely, traveling around the world while getting an education while taking care of her horses. She was working her ass off to make sure that when her days as a wrestler were over that she would be ready to go working in business, or working with horses. It was her passion. Just like the championship on the chair was a reflection of what drove her.
And I can't wait for someone to hear me
And wait for someone to touch me
And wait forever to be told
I'm forever alone
He was pretty sure he was lonely. Three hundred days or more on the road was something that a lot of women couldn't handle. Relationship after relationship, each one better than the last kept passing him by. He knew that he could be doing more to keep the relationships afloat; but three hundred days a year around the world didn't give him a whole lot of time to save a lot. They all wanted vacations to save the relationship; he understood that the only time he was going to get off was injured reserve time. He did feel bad for his girlfriends...however, he understood that this was the life that he had chosen for himself. It would have been selfish for anybody to ask him to give it up when he worked so hard to get to the top spot in the business. To headline WrestleManias. To hold the WWE Championship. To battle with the top guys like the Undertaker, Randy Orton, Triple H. He had busted his ass with a torn pec to get back in the ring and had stunned the entire wrestling community by returning three and a half months after going out on injury.
Some nights, Mickie couldn't help but think about Kenny. They had been together for a while, even engaged at one point. But things weren't working out in the end. When he had gone to SmackDown, he had changed. His attitude soured, and now it had been months since anybody had seen him on TV. She knew he was nursing a knee injury at one point, but she was more or less sure now that he was healed, and that the guys in the main office just didn't want to put him back on TV until his attitude was under control. She remembered the fan who had tried to charge Kenny for running over his foot. The fan hadn't had a problem with Mickie; he had even gone out of his way to announce that Mickie had been the sweetest woman in the world. However, he was really looking to grind his axe with Kenny. She couldn't fault the fan for a moment. She sighed, turning onto her side. She hated sleep. She's lay in bed for hours, waiting for the thoughts of Kenny to subside. Some nights were worse than others. Tonight was no different.
And I can't wait for someone to feel me
And wait for someone to heal me
And wait forever to be told
I'm forever alone
He supposed the women were right; he pushed himself too hard, and he didn't know how to slow down. He went to his bag and retrieved the bottle, opening it up and taking a straight swig out of the bottle. The truth was, the idea of slowing down drove him crazy. He couldn't just sit around the house and wait to heal, wait to come back to television. He thrived on fear, on competition, on the adrenaline that surged through his veins as he made his way to the ring, the fans cheering him and booing him. He was the one man who could emote such strong reactions from the fans. They either loved him, or they hated him with a passion. There never seemed to be anyone bordering in between.
She thought about John Cena. He was a man to be admired. He put up a hell of a front, despite the fact that people took severe issue with him. She wished that she had half the charisma he had. He was funny, intelligent, charming, and he didn't care what anyone thought about him. It was an admirable trait. It didn't help he was hot as hell too. She smiled at the thought. She had been lonely since she had split up with Kenny; she missed the emotional connection. But it was rare for a man to understand that his girlfriend was on the road with different, muscular men three hundred days a year. They'd get jealous, irritated, and Mickie understood that the only real shot at making it work would be to date in the business. But she worked hard not to mix business with pleasure. It was why she had stayed single after Kenny had left her. But these vignettes with John Cena lately had definitely started stirring feelings in her. She didn't know how on earth she was going to work around that.
He supposed he loved the reactions. He always knew there would be haters. But the death threats, the constant challenges to fight, the belligerent assholes who wanted to one-up the champ...it got to him sometimes. He'd had men challenge him to fights with his dates, and making vulgar comments to his girlfriends. It had taken everything that he could not to kick their asses. He was known to be laid-back, but sometimes, he couldn't help but hate the fact that he had a corporate image to uphold. Because if he were doing anything else...he would have kicked their asses and wouldn't have lost a wink of sleep over it.
Mickie rolled onto her back, staring up at the darkened ceiling. Exhaustion was slowly creeping in, but with her lifestyle choice, she knew that insomnia just came with the territory. The only time she found herself sleeping peacefully was when she was stuck on long flights, sandwiched in between Jillian Hall on her iPod and Beth Phoenix with her nose in a book. She'd divide her time up with naps, studying and thinking about new moves to incorporate into her move sets. She kept herself busy, her nose always in a book. It had surprised her the first time John Cena had come to talk to her, asking her about her courses and reading up on the material with her. Every now and then he'd even quiz her a little bit, and offer her fitness tips. He was a smart guy, and she appreciated every single piece of advice that he gave her. She sighed; why were the nights so long?
On my own
I've shown myself what it means to be alone
And the tears I've cried
I washed away all the scars of my disguise
He wondered what would happen if he ever got married. It seemed like the time was fading away on that life of a family and a wife waiting at home for him when he got off the road. He always wanted a family; a big family like he had growing up, with tons of brothers. He scoffed silently, taking another sip of JD. What kind of woman out there would even understand what he was doing, being on the road for three hundred days a year.
Mickie wondered just what life had in store for her. She knew she was an unconventional woman working to make a name for herself in a world that was dominated by muscular men. She knew that relationships came and went, and everybody was looking to make it into the top spot at the cost of everyone else. Even though they were like a huge family, there was still people wanting to take her spot. She knew that Jillian, Beth, Candice and Maria were hoping to hold the Women's Championship more than once. She had been blessed to have held it four times in the last two years. But she knew that Trish Stratus was the record to beat. Trish had been her idol, had broken her into the business, and had showed her the ropes when she had debuted. She had been so nervous; Trish had been patient and kind. They had put her with the best from the beginning, and Trish always told her that she would be destined for greatness long after she was gone. Mickie smiled sadly; she missed Trish.
He could sympathize with Mark. Kids, divorced twice. It seemed like meeting a woman outside of the business was close to impossible. And any woman inside the industry was so focused on their careers that children seemed like an improbability. Not that John didn't understand. Women like Lisa, Mickie, Nattie, all busted their asses to be in the spot that they were in. Children just didn't fit into that picture when they were running at the Women's title. Looking to become the next Moolah, the next Sherri, the next Trish and Lita.
The women's division had taken a sad shot since Trish and Lita had hung up their boots. She understood they needed to move on; however, selfishly, she knew that it was a dark day in women's wrestling to lose two greats within a few months of each other. She had been heartbroken to hear Molly Holly had left. She knew that she could have learned a lot from Molly. But Molly had trained Victoria, who was also helpful in showing her the ropes. But now the company was overrun with bikini model rejects who had gotten there on the basis of their modeling companies or contests that required them to win sack races in bikinis. Mickie sighed; it appeared that women toiling in the independent scenes with men and working their way to the top was becoming a thing of the past.
He thought back to 2005. The year of John Cena, the wrestling magazines had proclaimed. His album had dropped to favorable reviews, his movie had been finished and had supposed to be coming out (even though it hadn't hit theatres until 2006), and he was the WWE Champion. He was on top of the world.
And then he went to Raw.
Mickie thought back to 2006, when she had debuted in the company as Trish Stratus' number one fan. The fans hadn't been quite sure how to react to her, even though Vince had told her that the purpose was to make the fans hate her. Unfortunately, by the time she and Trish Stratus had finally collided at WrestleMania 22, the fans were cheering for her and booing Trish, a seasoned veteran who had already held the Women's Championship an unprecedented six times. She remembered vividly walking back up the ramp, holding up the title as the cameras focused in on her crazed face, the fans around her clapping and cheering. She had won her title at her first WrestleMania, and had proved that she was able to hang with the best. It had been the proudest moment of her career.
And I can't wait for someone to hear me
And wait for someone to touch me
And wait forever to be told
Yeah, I'm forever alone
He had thought Raw would be the best for his career. It was the flagship show, a chance to tangle with the big guys like Triple H. But within a year of him going to Raw, the fans had turned on him, rooting for Triple H at WrestleMania 22. The company had tried so hard to make him up to be the underdog at the event, and even when he had won, and was relishing in his victory at one of the best matches of his entire career, the fans were booing him for defeating Triple H. He watched the tape, watched his shoulders slump in defeat. There was just no pleasing the fans. If Triple H won, then the fans would be up in arms that he had won the title on the account of being married to the boss' daughter. Cena wins, and it becomes that he's overexposed.
She rolled onto her side again. Her mind was racing. Fans were speculating that she and Kenny had broken up so she could date John Cena, while John had broken up with his fiancee to date her. The truth was, they weren't dating. And he was devastated that he had lost his fiancee. But the time and the travel did a lot to a relationship. She understood it. Kenny had become bitter and disillusioned and he was becoming verbally negative with her. She was working hard to be successful, and she felt as though he was dragging her down. The incident with the fan in the car didn't help either. But she knew John was devastated to lose his fiancee. Even on the road, when they weren't together, he made it seem like she was his everything.
He knew his face was everywhere. He knew that eventually the fans were going to get sick of him being rammed down their throats. He took another swig. The liquor wasn't so hard to swallow anymore. But he wasn't about to be apologetic for any of it. Sure, he got booed just about everywhere he went; however, he was still the top seller of merchandise and had been for a couple years running. Sure, he was ready to admit he was overexposed, but he had busted his ass to get there. And that was what he would never make apologies for.
She wished she could get men off of her brain, period. They just created nothing but havoc and trouble for her. She and John had become great friends since their first vignette had aired though. But she knew better than to get distracted. In this industry, a woman couldn't be just friends with a man. It always had to be something else. At one point, she would have gone out of her way to prove everyone wrong; however, she knew that she had built her career on her own terms, and everyone's speculation about her and John Cena wasn't going to affect that.
And I can't wait for someone to feel me
And wait for someone to heal me
And wait forever to be told
Yeah I'm forever alone
He sighed. Tonight had been especially rough. A kid had asked him to stop on his way out to the car. He had been with Mickie James, Jillian Hall and Cody Rhodes. He had stopped, turning to face the kid. Thinking he wanted an autograph, he signed a shirt and handed it to him, leaning down to make contact with the kid. The kid had hauled back and spit in his face. Cody had gotten the kid out of Cena's vision before he had time to react. He sighed; the life he chose. Being hated. Being loved. No matter what feeling he evoked from the fans, it didn't help the feeling of loneliness that consumed him when the lights went down and he went back to his hotel room to live some semblance of a normal life.
She thought abou John tonight with that fan. He had been facing a lot of hostile fans for a few years now, but lately it appeared that they were getting more and more violent. More belligerent. She turned again. She had never seen John so angry, so volatile. Cody knew the look. He had gotten the fan away, spotting Chris Jericho a few feet away and taking the kid over. She had just stood, watching John as he wiped the spittle away from his eye. Her heart had gone out to him; he had brushed it off, but she could see it bothered him. He worked so hard, and it was the ultimate slap in the face. She peeled the blankets back; she wouldn't be able to get any sleep at the moment. She knew better than to try and force it.
He took another sip of liquor. He supposed he could sit there and wait in his room for sunrise, drinking himself into a stupor before dragging his hungover ass onto a plane to make an appearance on SmackDown, followed by going home. He sighed; he couldn't sit by himself, drinking like an idiot. He thought of Mickie. Mickie had become his best friend on the road. She was beautiful, but just out of his reach. He took a deep breath and screwed the cap on the bottle. He was going to go talk to her. He just needed to take a deep breath. Remember to breathe. He loved the life he lived; some nights he just tended to overanalyze.
I...I'm not waiting here this time