So, here's a little warning: toward the end of this chapter, CM Punk drops the F-bomb.

Around that time, they listen to a MCR song. If you can't figure out what it is, it's Welcome to the Black Parade.

Oh yeah, I should do a disclaimer, shouldn't I?

Disclaimer: I own none of the people in this story except for Mona. Please don't sue me, I have no lawyer (but if I did, I'd want it to be David Otunga xD).

I say good-bye to Beth and Natalya, and go find Phil's locker room.

When I get there, I knock on the door.

"Come in!" He yells.

I open the door, and he's putting on his ring gear. He looks up when he sees me, and smiles.

"Got a match next?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm up against del Rio." He says, nodding.

"So, I'll see you after your match?" I ask.

"Yeah. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go beat Alberto Dorito's ass." He says, standing up. "And by the way, great job out there."

"Thanks." I say. "Good luck!"

Phil leaves, going to gorilla. I sit down and watch the match on a TV. In the end, of course, Phil wins. Before he can start celebrating, my dad comes out.

Phil's P.O.V

*On-Screen*

I get the pin on del Rio. I stand up, raising my championship in the air. Then, the crowd stops booing. I frown, turn around, and, sure enough, it's him.

"Ladies and gentleman, I am the Executive Vice-President of Talent Rela-"

"We get it!" I say. "We all know who you are! We also know you're not out here to congratulate me, so what is it you want exactly?"

"You're right, Punk." He says. "I'm not out here to congratulate you. I'm here to warn you."

"Warn me?" I ask, sarcastically. "Warn me that I'm not going to beat Dolph Ziggler at the Royal Rumble, which we all know I will be doing."

"I'm here to warn you this: stay away from my daughter." He says.

"Stay away from Mona?" I ask, confused. "I don't understand. I'm never around Mona. Shouldn't you be warning Cena…Oh, wait, that's right, you love John Cena. All Cena ever does is kiss your-"

"Punk, I mean it." He says. "You need to stay away from my daughter." He says. "Or else."

"Or else?" I say, sarcastically. "Or else what? You're going to try and be unpredictable and put me in a match against Mark Henry or something?"

"If you don't, you'll be put in a match against the one and only-"

"Wait, let me guess. The ass-kissing, Cenation leader John Cena?" I guess.

"No." He says. "Against the one and only Executive Vice-President of Talent Relations and Interim Raw General Manager, me."

"Whoa, so now you all of a sudden want to fight me?" I ask. "Just a few weeks ago, you interrupted my gauntlet match so I wouldn't have to fight you. Now you want me to stop doing something that I probably won't stop, so I will have to fight you?"

He shakes his head. "I did not interrupt your match, I-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, buddy." I interrupt. "I'm not going to correct you since you seem to like being right all the time, but I will tell you this: you're not going to stop me from talking to Mona. Last I checked, there's no law saying I can't talk to her. And I know you're going to mention him, but please, for the love of God, do not bring up David Otunga. We get it, he went to Harvard. We really don't care."

"Listen, Punk, I'm just warning you: you don't want to mess with me or Mona." He says.

"Let me just say this," I say. "I know you probably don't care, but I think it's important. Mona is safer with me than with John Cena. I don't have the Devil's Favorite Demon Kane stalking my every move. I just have Dolph Ziggler, who I can make go to sleep within seconds. Then there's Jack Swagger, who, let's face it, has no swagger. I can put him out, too. But you can't put Kane out."

"I warned you, Punk." He says, and with that, he leaves.

I frown, shaking my head, watching as he leaves.

"Before I go," I say. "I just want to see something. Who here wants to watch CM Punk beat John Laurinaitis?" The crowd goes wild. "That's what I thought."

Then, I leave, and the show ends.

*Off-Screen*

Mona's P.O.V

After the big argument between Phil and my dad, the show ends, and Phil heads backstage. I leave his locker room and find him.

"Great job!" I say, giving him a hug. "Ew, you're still kinda sweaty."

"Hey, I didn't ask for a hug." He laughs.

"Well, I felt like giving you a hug." I shrug. We start walking back to his locker room. "But you did do a great job. I like watching you argue with my dad."

"And I like arguing with your dad." He says. "It's fun."

"It seems fun." I say. "I can't wait for the day I get to argue with him."

"Which will come soon." Someone says. I look in front of me (I've been looking at Phil as I've been walking; it's a wonder that I haven't run into anything), and see John standing in front of us, smiling. "I got a script for next week, and your dad mentioned arguing with you. He wants to see you."

"Oh, okay." I say. "Thanks John." I look at Phil. "I'll meet you back at your locker room when I'm done?"

"Sounds good."

"Great!" I say. "I'll see you guys later."

I walk down the hallways and get to my dad's office. I knock on the door, he yells, "Come in!" and I open the door. This time, however, no one's there but him. And, luckily, this time he's not texting random people.

"Hello, Mona." My dad says, smiling. "Take a seat. I want to talk to you about something."

I walk over and sit down. "Alright. John mentioned me getting to argue with you."

"I was planning on it." He nods. "Next week, I'm going to catch you talking to Punk, then I'm going to get you to my office, and we'll have an argument about your rights to talking to whoever you want to. We'll figure out some other stuff later."

"Cool." I say, nodding. "Is that it?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about something…" He says, nervously. "But it's going to be kind of awkward."

"What?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"Is there anyone you like?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning.

"Is there anyone…How do you say it, you're crushing on?"

My jaw drops. "Dad!"

"Did I say it wrong?" He asks, worried.

"No, no. It's just, you're right about this being awkward…" I say. "Do you really want to know?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Okay…Well, I like this one guy. He's in a band. I've never met him, but he's awesome." I say.

"Who?"

"His name is Gerard Way." I say. I smirk. "He's the lead singer of My Chemical Romance."

"Oh…" He nods.

"Dad, I'm joking." I say. I sigh. "I don't plan on telling you. It's just not something you discuss with your dad."

"I understand." He says. "Well, you can go."

"Thanks." I say, standing up. "See you later, I guess…"

I leave, and find Phil in his locker room out of his ring attire.

"What did your dad want?" He asks, as I walk in.

"He wanted to tell me about the storyline…" I say. "And he wanted to know if I liked someone…It was awkward. I gave him the obvious answer."

"Gerard Way?" He asks, smirking.

"You know me too well." I say, laughing.

"Well, I am your best friend." He points out, smiling.

"True, true." I nod. "Until, you know, I meet Gerard."

"You'd replace me with a singer?" He asks, with fake shock in his voice.

"Of course." I say, smirking. "Singers beat wrestlers any day. It's a fact of life."

"In that case, I should become a singer." He says.

I roll my eyes. "You just don't want to replaced."

"That's exactly it." He shrugs. "Being your best friend is fun. I don't want Gerard fucking Way to have more fun than me."

I roll my eyes. "You're so full of yourself."

"Glad you noticed." He smirks.

"Can we just leave now?" I ask, laughing.

"Alright." He nods, and we start making our way to his car. I'm a lazy person, so I don't have my own car. I usually get Phil to drive me places. Or my dad. Just depends. Usually Phil, though.

We get to his car, put our seatbelts on, and he starts the car. I look at some CDs (most of them are mine…This shows how much time I spend in this car), and find one. I put it in.

"I don't even have to ask which CD you just put in." He laughs.

The CD turns on, and I go to my favorite song on it.

"When I was a young boy/My father took me into the city/To see a marching band."

"Whoa, I was wrong." He says, laughing.

"Yeah, you were." I say, smirking.

"This is The Black Parade." He says. "I expected it to be their newest one."

I shrug. "Eh, I got tired of it. I wanted to listen to this one."

On the way back to the hotel, Phil and I just jam out to Welcome to the Black Parade.

Finally, we get there. We get out, do all the usual things, and we head to his room.

Technically, I room with Maryse. But, in case you didn't know, she's dating Mike (The Miz), and most of the time, he's in there, and it gets awkward, so I usually room with Phil, who actually rooms with Mike. It kinda just works out like that.

When we get to his room, we sit down on the beds and turn the TV on. Some random Indiana Jones movie is on.

"Oh, crap!" I say. "I left my pajamas in my room."

"No problem." Phil says. "You can borrow some of mine or something."

"Oh, good, thanks." I say, sighing.

We half-watch the movie, but also have an argument over which band is better: My Chemical Romance or Linkin Park. You have to admit, it's kinda hard to choose. In the end (that wasn't meant to be a pun!), though, My Chem wins.

Finally, I get off my lazy ass and put on the stuff Phil is letting me sleep in.

I come out of the bathroom, and we fall asleep.