Punk chapter: 1st person pov Warnings: Profanity, slash.
Well, wasn't that an interesting conversation to overhear, Mr Punk.
Released. Fuck. When? Fucking Johnny Ace, dates, motherfucker, give me a date.
"Mr Brooks? Mr Brooks, excuse me." Runners from Creative, the only people in this whole fucking place that show me any respect, how I fucking hate them. "Your script for the night, Mr Brooks."
"Yeah, thanks." And in the recycling box, you go. Fucking Johnny Ace and his being unspecific, fucking asshole.
"Phil!"
"Mr Laurinaitis." What do you want, asshole?
"You must be excited, finally getting another title run. Must be encouraging, for someone in your position."
"It's an honour to be given the IC title." Yeah it's great, asshole. I wonder how long it'll be before Creative decides to give it to a real champion and what the fuck do you mean in my position? Motherfucking asshole, just fuck off if you aren't going to be useful.
"Well, I'll take my leave. Good luck out there, Phil."
"Thank you, sir." Eat shit and die, fucking asshole.
Well, that's nice isn't it, Mr Punk, the Vice President of Talent Relations wishing you luck, at least it wasn't in your future endeavours, yet.
Fuck you, Life.
"I'm IC Champ. Yay. You sleeping?" Wakey-wakey, fucker.
"You're too noisy to sleep through, Punkers." Poor sleepy Colt, you're spending a lot of time asleep, lately, fucker.
"Says the man who snores so loudly he wakes himself up. How's Smackdown?"
"No idea, ask me about Superstars instead." Oh shit, it's gonna be soon isn't it. "It could be worse."
"Come on, let's go."
"Where?"
"Dunno, out?" Anywhere but here. You need something fun so you're less fucking miserable looking.
Are you really not going to mention this to him, Mr Punk?
What do I say, bitch? Hey, Colt, guess what! I overheard Johnny Ace talking about firing you; yeah don't have any dates but heads up, buddy. Yeah, fuck that, I'll tell him when I have something more concrete. Tonight, we'll be all couplely, dinner, shower, go home, make love, it'll be all fucking sweet and lovely and when I have more info, I'll let him know. So until then, shut the fuck up about it.
Sweet and lovely, I was not aware this meant getting a faceful of cum, Mr Punk.
Shut up.
I'm sure he didn't mean for it to be quite so very humiliating. It's just him marking his territory, right, like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant. This, clearly, means he loves you lots and lots, Mr Punk.
"You want me to take of you, Punkers?"
Ah, of course, he wants to return the favour, well it's not like you really enjoyed it so -
"No need." Shut up, Life.
"Thank you, Punkers, I needed that."
Needed to remind you that you're his fire hydrant, Mr Punk.
"Just leave any tips on the table by the door."
And jokes about being a whore, feeling a little self-deprecating today, Mr Punk. This might be a good opportunity to mention what you overheard.
Not yet, I don't know enough, it'll only worry him. He's happy right now, just leave it, Life.
"Don't eat yellow snow."
"Invaluable advice, Colt. G'night."
"I give good tips. Good night, Punkers."
This would be the cue for I love you, Punkers and yet, nothing. Well, it seems like I was right, he doesn't love you. Maybe it's a good thing we aren't telling him he's getting fired after all.
"I love you, Colt. I think they're going to future endeavour you. I'm sorry."
If you want him to hear you, Mr Punk, you'll need to speak louder.
I'm not sure I do, I'm not sure anything I just said is something he wants to hear.
Three a.m. and I can't sleep.
Well would you like to talk about it, Mr Punk?
He's done here, isn't he? This relationship, it's over isn't it.
That would appear to be the case, Mr Punk.
I love him though.
Well, that's your problem isn't it?
I guess so. Fuck this, infomercials it is.
"Hurry up, fucker. You'll be late." You don't want to give them a good reason to get rid of you, Colt.
What are you doing, Mr Punk?
Goodbye kiss.
"Love you!" Even if you don't love me, fucker.
You know you're going to have to talk to him about this right. Make sure you're not just jumping to conclusions. Remember the last time, you gleefully jumped to conclusions, you don't own any mirrors to punch this time, Mr Punk.
We'll talk when he's less busy.
When he's fired, you mean.
Whose side are you even on, Life?
I just found out, they just called him. Fucking Johnny Ace grow a set and fire people to their faces. Fucking Cabana, answer your phone!
The AT and T customer you are dialling cannot be reached at this time. Please leave a message.
"Pick up the phone, Colt."
The AT and T customer you are dialling cannot be reached at this time. Please leave a message.
"Cabana, answer me!"
Answer your phone, Colt! - sent 14:56
Fucking pick up the phone, Cabana! -sent 14:59
Scott, are you okay? - sent 15:06
The AT and T customer you are dialling cannot be reached at this time. Please leave a message.
"Scott, call me back. Please."
Fine, fine, don't answer your cell, fucker. Maybe he's at his parent's place.
"Hi, Mrs Colton, it's Punk."
"Hello Punk! What's wrong, dear?"
"Is Scott there?"
"What? No. Why would he be here?"
"You've not heard?"
"Heard what, Punk?"
"They... He got... He was released today."
"I. Oh. Well, thank you for telling me, Punk. I'll call him. Do you want me to ask him to call you?"
"Please. Thank you, Mrs Colton."
"Marsha, Phil, how many times?"
"Thanks, Marsha."
Scott, I'm worried, let me know you're okay, please. I love you. - sent 16:04
Scott, I knew, I overheard a conversation Johnny Ace was having. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to believe it. They're fucking assholes. Call me when you get this, please. - sent 16:15
SCOTT FUCKING COLTON ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING PHONE! - sent 16:30
Please, Colt. Call me, okay? - sent 20:59
Colt, I'm sorry. - sent 21:24
Call me - Punk - sent 23:57
Fuck you, ignore me then.
If you won't answer the phone, Cabana, you'll have to talk to me in person. Fuck, I hope he's okay, he has to be okay.
Well, at least I know why he didn't call me, he was busy. The ROH fans seem happy to have him back, that's good. Fucker still needs to talk to me and he has to come home soon, he can avoid his phone forever but not his apartment.
"Figured you have to come back home some time."
"Punkers?" Fuck, Colt, you look terrible.
"Hey, hey. It'll be okay. Don't cry."
"I don't know what to do, Punkers. Everything I wanted, poof, gone."
"It'll be okay. We'll work something out, it'll be okay." Stop crying, please, fucker, stop crying, I was doing such a good job of being pissed that you were ignoring me. Stop making forgive you.
"Phil, how the fuck can this be okay?" Don't get pissed with me, fucker.
"You're too good to not be at the top, Scott. I know you, Colt. You'll work something out. Hell, I saw the clip you sent Laurinaitis, people still care about you, the fans they still love you. So WWE didn't work out this time. There's always next time, fuck you could try TNA, you could stay at Ring of Honor, fuck, try Japan if you really wanted." Lots of options, fucker.
"I, yeah, I guess. It's just-"
"It was your dream. I know, fucker, I know. Now-"
"I love you."
"What?" Really, what? Also, fuck you, Life.
"I love you. I know, I've not told you that much lately, Phil but I do. I love you."
Now get my job back for me, is what he means, I believe, Mr Punk.
"You know, I love you, Scott. But this, this isn't a good time for this conversation."
"What conversation?" Oh don't look so confused, Cabana, you know exactly what we need to talk about.
"The 'I love you, you love me oh how happy we shall be' conversation. You're already soaking my shirt; I don't think anyone in this room needs to get further in touch with their feminine sides tonight."
"Fuck you, Punkers."
"Hey! Domestic abuse!" How you like getting punched, fucker. That's better, smile at me, we can have miserable shitty conversations in the morning. "So, fuck you, Punkers, that was an offer, right?" Come on, fucker, to bed. Shit will look better in the morning.
I'm slightly more content with Punk in this chapter, he's still a little out but I think we're getting back on track with him and look at him go, advancing the plot all by himself, I'm so proud.
littleone1389: I kind of side with Colt in the who has it worst stakes, at the moment at least. Lemme know what you think of Punkers here.
agd888: Thank you! It's going to get bumpier very soon.
bitteralisa: Colt did just lose his dream, poor thing a vague mental breakdown was inevitable, though it was strange to write him as the collapsing one for a change. Top!Punk isn't likely in this, for reasons relating back to the 2nd chapter of Comet and I don't write topPunk very well... I hope the Punk pov wasn't too disappointing. Miscommunication its the cornerstone of this relationship.
InYouHonour: Pitying Colt... It is a tradition but he's a poor wee soul. :(
If you're apathetic to this continuing please don't review, if you would like more, please do!
Reviews keep this from being lost in the shuffle of priorities.
