The After Party

"Barkeep! Another round!" Steve shouted over the loud music and the roaring fans. Angelle felt absolutely ridiculous being so overdressed in a bar, but just looking at Shane, Vince, Hunter, John and Steve in their suits and they didn't feel so bad. Linda was watching the grandkids, all four, and Stephanie and Marissa were having sister-in-law night together at the hotel bar, several miles away from where Angelle was with the guys. She felt odd being the only woman in the group, but Shane was more than insistent that she come along and have a night out. He was making damn sure that she wasn't just doing nothing but work, work, work.

"That was a great speech tonight, Mr. McMahon," Angelle said with a smile as the bartender put another kamikaze in front of her. She still wasn't finished her last one, but it seemed as though Shane was trying to initiate her by getting her dead drunk. Hunter was off with a group of fans, signing autographs and telling jokes about Randy Orton.

"Please, Angelle. You're off the clock. Vince."

"It was a great speech, Vince." She raised her glass. "To the 2009 Hall of Fame inductees."

"Here here," Cena called out as everybody clinked their glasses together. Steve still couldn't take his eyes off of the ring on his finger.

"After all the shit we've done to one another, is it shocking or what that you're the one to induct me?" Steve asked Vince with a laugh.

"What do you mean, 'all you've done to one another?'" she asked. Steve chuckled. She felt stupid for a split second, but there was nothing on Steve's face that said he felt she was a moron.

"Well..." He turned his head and motioned to a long white line with his finger. "See this?"

"Yeah. It's a scar."

"Care to guess who gave it to me?"

"Mr. McMahon...I mean, Vince did that?"

"Sure did. With a steel chair."

"Oh, come on...you've given me way more scars than the piddly one on the back of your head," Vince snapped, taking a sip of his drink. Steve nodded.

"What else have you guys done to one another?"

"Morbid curiosity, huh, Harper?" Cena asked. She blushed.

"Just a touch." She finished her first kamikaze and started the second one.

"Well, one time I got a hold of a zambone, drove it into the arena and attacked Vince..."

"...He also got a hold of a beer truck and hosed me, Dad, The Rock and a few other people down," Shane said. Angelle laughed.

"He attacked me with a bedpan at a hospital," Vince said. "Not to mention filling my brand new Corvette with wet cement and blowing out all the windows." Her jaw dropped and they all started laughing, clinking their glasses together.

"There's definitely been some good times," Vince said with a laugh.

"I definitely wish I was around in your heyday," Cena said to Steve. "You and I...we could have done big things."

"We would have been raising a lot of hell together," Steve agreed, taking a swig of his beer. Angelle smiled.

"What's the worst thing you've done to an advesary in your career?" Angelle asked.

"I threw Adam in the Long Island Sound," Cena replied. "But Steve and Dwayne were doing that shit way before I did it." She shook her head.

"Can't you guys all get along?" The men all stared at each other before answering in unison.

"No."

Vince laughed. "If everyone got along, I wouldn't have a business." Angelle nodded.

"Touche, Mr. McMahon."

"Vince, Angelle....off the clock, remember?"

"Sorry, Vince."

"So are you looking forward to flying back home on Wednesday?" Shane asked. She nodded.

"I don't understand how you guys can go like this during WrestleMania week," she confessed. "It's a lot to take in, with the art museums, press conferences, interviews and fan festivals."

"I know," Vince told her. "I remember just like yesterday how close the end seemed when we put on the first WrestleMania."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Cena said. "Back in a time where not everyone had entrance music and no one had lights and fireworks and entrance videos and entrance ramps weren't even thought of yet." He raised his glass to Vince. "It's really evolved in the last twenty-five years, man. You should be really proud."

"That I am," Vince said, clinking his glass with Cena's. "And I've been very fortunate to have my family in on this with me." Shane nodded, a smile crossing his face as he toasted with his father.

"Well...I seem to have unanimous fan support for tomorrow," Hunter said, reappearing at the table and taking his place beside Shane. The table laughed.

"Well, it helps your cause that Randy Orton is very good at being a dickwad," Steve replied. Angelle laughed.

"It's the only thing that's saved his hide," Vince replied. "Most companies would not have given him as many chances as we have, but he's good at what he does." Angelle thought back to Mickie talking about his bad reputation.

"What's he done?" The table looked at her. "If you don't mind me asking." Hunter shrugged.

"He just had a lot of anger," Hunter replied. "He's still a moody prick, but back then he took it out on people in the worst way."

"He was verbally abusive backstage, especially to the Divas," Vince replied. "We had an incident with him and a Diva Search contestant back in 2004 that got us some negative publicity."

"What did he do?"

"He decided to tamper with her bags," Shane said. "Got a hold of her Louis Vuitton bag and poured all sorts of lotions, oils and ointments inside. Ruined her stuff, ruined her bag and she left our company screaming to anyone who would listen that Orton was an animal."

"What did she do to deserve that kind of treatment?" Angelle inquired. Hunter shrugged.

"Randy told me that she was just there for the photo spreads and the exposure and that's why he did it. There was word going around that he had asked her out and she had rejected him, so obviously Naitch and I had to sit him down. He had started dating Samantha at the time."

"So what was the breaking point?"

"We had to suspend him for two months in 2006 for unprofessional conduct," Shane told her. "He was caught smoking marijuana backstage and reported. So we let him perform at WrestleMania 22 and then we suspended him. Had some storyline where his ankle got broken or something. We let him back early for good behavior because we sent him to anger management."

"Did that do the trick?"

"For the most part," Hunter told her. "He still has his slip ups here and there, but it's not as bad as what it used to be, and for that we're all very, very thankful."

"He's human," Shane said. "It was just a matter of letting him get his mistakes out of the way. He's a young guy and we put a lot on him because we needed to do that at the time. He's gotten used to it all now and he toes the company line just fine. Now finish your drink." The table laughed and Angelle took another sip of her kamikaze.

"If I didn't know any better, McMahon, I'd say you're trying to get my date drunk," Cena said with a laugh.

"Nobody is officially a WWE employee until this son of a bitch gives them alcohol poisoning," Steve said with a laugh. Shane smiled.

"Finish your beer, old man." Steve flashed him the middle finger and the table erupted with laughter. A few fans approached the table, asking for pictures with the Superstars and the McMahons. Angelle was more than happy to take the pictures for them. The picture looked hilarious; Steve and Shane looked buzzed, with Shane loosening his tie before the picture was taken. Vince was the only one who looked well composed. The fans thanked her and wished Hunter and Cena good luck at WrestleMania the following day before disappearing back to their table for another round of drinks.

"Thank God you guys are still in your suits," Angelle replied, taking her seat. "Otherwise I would feel so ridiculously overdressed." Everybody laughed.

"Well, the general consensus was you were the best dressed," Vince replied with a chuckle.

"Well, Mickie, Maryse, Lisa and Candice all helped me make pick the dress," she said. "Did you see how great Candice looked?"

"I definitely wasn't feeling Mickie's animal print thing," Cena replied with a grimace, taking a shot of Jack Daniels. "Or Michelle's dress. Somewhere, a loveseat has been skinned alive." Everyone laughed.

"Aren't we lucky?" Shane asked the men at the table. "We just have to worry about ties, more or less."

"We are lucky," Steve said. "Because I bet you I couldn't pull off Angelle's dress if I tried." She laughed at the thought as she took another sip of her kamikaze. Shane ordered another one for her and she groaned. It was going to be a long night.

**

At four in the morning, Angelle staggered out of the elevator, while a seemingly sober John Cena held onto her around the waist to make sure she didn't completely drop. After consuming close to a dozen kamikazes over the course of the night, she was absolutely wrecked. She was holding the skirt of her dress to keep it from scraping along the floor, while Cena was holding onto the heels she had taken off in the car. "Man, I'm so wasted...and I have to be at the stadium in five hours," she moaned, burrowing her head into his chest. He chuckled. "Mr. McMahon is going to be so mad at me..."

"No, he's not," Cena assured her. "He was there...remember?" She stared up at him, a dizzy smile on her features.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you are wasted," he murmured under his breath. Her hair had become disheveled through the course of the night, the curls now hanging limply around her face. He had to admit; she was a fun drunk...once Shane had gotten a good buzz on her, she had more or less hosted an unofficial WrestleMania party. "Come on...let's get you to your room. Do you remember which number it is?"

Her face darkened in concentration. "Four....twenty? No..." she giggled. "I said four twenty." Cena shook his head, a smile cracking his features. He was used to pulling all nighters, so his patience wasn't thin with her at all. "I think it's four eighteen...something with an eight." Cena smiled and led her down the hallway towards her hotel room. She rested her head on his shoulder. "You're really hot, you know that?" Cena laughed. Man, she is so going to be in for it tomorrow, he thought. He had to make a note of it to pick on her a little bit. This was too much. "And you're not a total jerk about it, which is great...Most guys can be so conceited, but you're actually kind of cool."

"Um...thanks..." he said, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Do you have your keycard?" She dug into her purse.

"Um...yeah...here," she said. She was barely standing on her feet, swaying back and forth as though she were ready to completely pass out in the hallway. Handing it to him, she let go too soon and the keycard dropped. She burst into tears. "I'm so sorry." Cena cocked an eyebrow at the severe change of mood.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get it," he told her, leaning down to pick up the card, while trying to hold Angelle steady. She was sniffling, wiping the tears away from her eyes. He unlocked the door and led her inside, leading her to the bed.

"Cena?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for putting up with me tonight," she said, sniffling. "I haven't gone out in so long..." He smiled.

"Well, we're just going to have to change that," he said, pulling a blanket over her. "Get some rest. It's a big day tomorrow." She nodded and her eyes were closed in an instant. John watched her fall into her restless sleep before he let himself out of the hotel room, shaking his head. What a night.