Stephanie McMahon POV

All Fall Down

Chapter II

"I didn't work for my father; I worked for the fans."

While my injury wasn't anything to be worked up over, I stayed by Paul the whole time through his. It was a very long seven months but we found some normality in our relationship during this time. People weren't asking us questions or bothering us; our cabin in the mountains gave us that privacy. He worked with me in wrestling situations and strategies. I even got really good at the video game, just to give me a small feel towards it. When the time came for Paul and me to go back to the training camp, I went right along side with him. Every time he went to the gym, I was right there with him. Granted, he would be lifting one hundred pound free weights and I would have a weak twenty in each hand, but it felt great to do. It was something we could both bond over as well. By this time, we had been going out for just over a year.

Two weeks before we were to reappear with a rematch (it was still talked about during this time), Paul moved in with me in my house in Connecticut. This was the first time I was in a real relationship with someone, and I wanted to take it slow. We hadn't even slept together yet, and Paul was a gentleman and respected my wish to wait. I think any other guy would have taken off right then and there, but he completely understood. It made me love him even more. I don't ever think, at that time, we were ready to say the 'L' word. It just wasn't at that point yet for either of us. We were both looking to make a statement in the company and because we both agreed to take it slow, there was no need to ruin it by jumping into things.

My first match, with my boyfriend, was against his jealous ex. It looked like I would get my ass handed to me…hands down. People spoke about it in blogs, laughing at me. If anything, it only heated my temper even more, something I never knew I had. In that match, as crazed and vengeful as I seemed to be, I believed at that very moment that I was more like my father. We won the match and I had survived. She was on the ground while Paul was in my arms, kissing me. With the fans cheering us on, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I released at that moment that I loved this. I loved having the attention on me. I loved winning. And I loved this job. From then on, I knew that this was what I was born to do.

My father and brother commended us on the match while my mother told me later that I had done a good job, but she wished I wouldn't wrestle anymore. I didn't promise her anything. The next week, Chyna issued me a challenge and I took it. The one thing I learned from being a McMahon and watching my father handle business, in and out of the ring, was that McMahon's didn't fight fair. Bottom line. I wasn't stupid. I didn't walk into that ring with that monster without knowing that I had to have some sort of backup. No wrestler alive would ever deny what a McMahon told them. All I had to do was promise a title shot and I had another wrestler come down to ring side to lay out the female and claim me as the winner.

On that night, I knew one thing: This new side to me would be the dominant side in this business. And I liked her. Not everyone was overjoyed though.

"My, my," I heard as I walked back from behind the curtain. Despite my brain telling me to simply ignore the voice; I couldn't help but to be a little curious as to who would address me. "Was that little Miss Stephanie out there, all grown up and being…what's the word…?" As I turned, I saw the man pondering, quite hard and obviously taunting me, as he placed his finger on his chin and glanced upwards. I simply rolled my eyes and folded my arms over my chest as I tapped my foot impatiently. While the guy wasn't bad looking (at all) I had learned how to separate business from pleasure (except Paul). Besides, I had no clue who he was. "I think the word I'm searching for begins with a B and is five letters." He obviously wanted me to say it. Instead, I simply glared at him.

"Is there a point to this oh-so-boring-encounter?" I asked annoyed.

He simply relaxed slightly and threw me a charming smile. I clenched my teeth. "I just think that it's a change for you," he answered, moving a little too close for my liking. "You do great in both, but you play the bitch so much better."

I rolled my eyes once more and turned to walk towards Paul's locker room where I was sure he was waiting for me. I couldn't ignore the fact that the man I had just ran into was watching me leave very intently. "You're a pig!" I called over my shoulder, only to hear his laughter afterwards. I didn't know it at that time…but it was one Chris Irvine who was hitting on me.

There was something about this business that you couldn't ignore and you couldn't run from. People took time off, they got injured, and they claimed that they were going to put it behind them and retire. No matter what, they always came back. I was no exception. I loved my time on Smackdown as the General Manager. Granted, it was just a face job for the camera, but I loved the script, I loved my character, and more importantly…I enjoyed it. Fans actually cheered for me. My blotched past with my husband, factions, and Chris Irvine's taunting character was far behind me. I grew up. Along with the new position, I got to know wrestlers more personally. They weren't my husband's posse anymore and I liked that.

Paul was on the other brand and both were different. While Raw was live, Smackdown was tape delayed. All that meant for us was more breathing room. You felt more like an actress than a wrestler really, and I enjoyed this new aspect of things. I loved challenges and trying new things and this brand did just that for me.

It was only a year and a half, maybe two, into that job before I looked to take a break. My career behind the scenes was advancing and soon I was in charge of the creative side of things. Something else I took great pride and joy in. I needed time away from the business for my personal life as well. After being together for four years, he proposed to me. I can truly say…it was one of the happiest moments in my life. Of course, my father seemed to view the business more important than our own lives. The last storyline we were working as a way to give me a clean break came to head with an ending match. Everyone knows how clumsy I am in the ring, so it didn't thrill anyone, except my father, when I agreed to that match just four days before my wedding.

Everything went off without a hitch though. I was touched when I was escorted back to the ring. It would be my last appearance for another two and half years. The fans didn't want to see me leave and I held onto that. I felt like I needed to come back. I knew I needed a vacation, but I would back, and I would return with full force. Behind the scenes, Paul and I got married and we went on our two week long honeymoon. It was magical. They had written out for Paul to be injured by kayfabe, so we had the whole time to ourselves without being bothered. Beaches gave us that privacy. When we returned to work, we both dove into it. With myself heading the creative team and Paul going back in his quest for the world title, we were both so busy that we rarely saw each other. I worked at home or from the base office and was never at the arena. There were only selected times when I would appear.

Things were going great. I wasn't too thrilled that my father kept John Cena as a champion headliner, but like a good little employee, I did what I was told. When word came down that the Board Members had been looking to move the Raw section over to a new network, our previous network got pissed. They were quick to drop us that the whole Board, along with us McMahon's, had to fly out to work negotiation with the new network. Thankfully, things worked, but it was a weekend away from Paul and my job.

My father made a huge deal about debating the show on the new network and encouraged us to draft up a well written script with five star matches and for us, as a family, to come out in front of the camera. I was nervous. But it wasn't my nerves in appearing in front of a crowd again, or the fact that I had dyed my hair and appeared different, but that my father had myself and my brother Shane work a deal to get Steve Austin to appear. I have never disliked anyone in this business with a passion more than Steve Austin his self. I will be the first person to admit; he fills seats, he delivers sold out shows, and he is funny as ever. My father and Steve have a hated rivalry and my father is the kind of man to put that in front of the camera and make money out of it. He doesn't care who gets beaten, injured or humiliated; as long as it gets ratings, he's a happy camper.

When Steve (surprisingly) agreed, I spent the night after and devised a perfect script. The week before the big show, we all sat down, my team, father, and I, and edited it. When it actually came time for the show, to go out there and to be the Bitch that everyone loved to hate, I soaked up every single moment of it. And I loved it. I wanted to come back as a face, but just being out there reminded me of who I was and who I worked for. I didn't work for my father; I worked for the fans. As time went on though, I was denied more and more screen time. My job got heavier and the Board demanded script replacements because of the falling of ratings. John Cena became a hated superstar, which I knew would happen. You could only play the same character for a certain amount of time before you're rejected. My husbands faction with friend Shawn was short lived when he was injured again; another low blow to our relationship. While he was at home and recovering, I was working late, running back and forth from show to show. It didn't help that we brought back ECW either.

I wasn't happy with my position and the way things were turning out any longer. We lost a lot of good superstars and gained mediocre ones. I personally felt like Raw and Smackdown were taking hits left and right while my father poured in resources into the new ECW. Eventually, I asked for ECW to be separated from the Raw and Smackdown creative team. It wasn't that I was trying to get rid of it; ECW was smaller compared to both other brands and I felt like they needed their own writers to give us more people for Raw and Smackdown. As I complied this together, my father, once more, decided to go off the deep end.