Chapter 7: The A-Lister
This is the life.
Mike "The Miz" Mizanin is sitting out on his patio by the pool in his blue swimsuit, basking in the sun and catching up on his tan. His wife Maryse sits in one of the lounge chairs, enjoying the heat herself in her white bikini with the cherry patterns as she holds their daughter, Monroe Skye in her arms. It's the most perfect day.
But it isn't just today or this moment that's "the life" for Miz.
"The life" is living the life of an A-Lister.
Rather than hiding out in the bomb shelter twenty-four-seven, Miz has stayed at his house in New York, with his family. Rather than staying cooped up, watching and waiting for the right moment to step out and get some fresh air, he's chilling by the pool, going out whenever he so pleases. And rather than only ever going out during the day to buy necessities for surviving this genocide, Maryse goes out shopping all day, every day, and buys whatever she wants.
But why?
It's simple.
They're A-Listers, unlike the rest of the superstars in the WWE. It isn't just an attitude Miz flaunts around in the ring. It's his way of life. It's who he is, who he was brought up to be. And he's gonna live that way.
Maybe the B-Listers are scared. Maybe they feel the need to hide from Stephanie.
But Miz isn't scared. He has no reason to be scared.
It's mostly because he doesn't fear Stephanie's going to come after him and his family; she knows that he gets violent when his family is threatened, and that, in turn, should make her pretty scared. But even if she does, he has the skills to fight back. And he'll fight back hard. He's strong enough to fight anyone or anything Stephanie throws his way, and he smart enough to know if and when they're coming for his home.
See? Nothing to be afraid of.
Now, Miz stares up at the blue sky, dotted with the occasional puff of a fluffy, white cloud floating by. A warm breeze blows through his hair as. It's very calming. If only every day could be this perfect for just sitting out and enjoying the gentle sun. The others are really missing out. It must seriously suck being pent up in that bomb shelter, where it's always cold, and out of the sun.
There must never be fresh air in there, either. Miz can only imagine how dusty and stuffy and sweaty it gets in those tiny, little rooms. The thought makes him nauseous. And the beds... Goddamn, he's so used to sleeping on a soft, body-conforming mattress with warm blankets that keep out the cold. The beds in the shelter must be like sleeping on a springboard, and trying to cover yourself with a long sheet of paper towels. If Miz were there, he'd be unable to live with himself; he'd be in such bodily pain in the morning that he wouldn't even mind if Stephanie killed him! They must be losing their minds having to live in such a cramped, uncomfortable space!
Miz can't help but wonder, how are they doing it?
But he shakes it all off, and smiles to himself. He doesn't need to think like that. While they're "playing it safe" and hiding themselves away from the beauty of the world, Miz is playing cool, sticking to comfort. Not worrying about anything when, really, there's nothing to be worrying about.
In the midst of his sunbathing, Miz can tell that Maryse is watching him. But he pretends not to notice, though, it's hard to keep up that act when she giggles, and that cute little sound makes him grin.
"You look hot, babe," she gushes. "'Specially with the sun beating down on you like that. You could be a swimsuit model."
Finally, Miz sets his sunglasses on top of his head, looking over at Maryse, and giving her his signature smirk. "Well, well. Thank you. You're looking extra beautiful this afternoon yourself," he purrs.
Maryse giggles again, blushing deeply. Even to this day, she melts when Miz tells her how pretty she is.
"How are you enjoying yourself out here?" Miz asks her.
Maryse sighs, leaning back in her chair and resting Monroe Skye against her chest. "It's perfect out here. I'm so glad we chose to stay here... It almost feels safer, being in our own home like this." Just then, she sits up sharply. "Y'know... I wasn't sure about it at first. I didn't think it would be. But you were right. It's so much more comfortable here... So private. A much better place to take care of kids, too. Don't you think?" She smiles down at Monroe Skye, and bounces her softly in her lap to give her some soothing motions.
Miz chuckles, reaching over and pinching Monroe Skye's cheek, making her laugh at her Daddy. "So much better. I don't know why Daniel Bryan thought it'd be smart to keep four kids down there," he mutters. "They're wild. I promise you, they will end up killing each other one day."
Maryse laughs. "You got that right. Not our sweet Monroe Skye," she says. "She's gonna grow up to be the perfect lady. Won't you?" She peers down at their daughter, and gives her a kiss on the cheek. "Being brought up in a house, like a little lady. You wouldn't survive in that bomb shelter with those rowdy boys, would you?"
Sighing happily, Miz pushes the sunglasses back down over the bridge of his nose, and leans back in his chair. "I love it, babe," he says. "Being with you, living a normal life. Why stay hidden when there's nothing to be hiding from?"
Lying back as well, Maryse sighs. "Who needs to be safe in numbers, anyways?
I've got you to protect me," she purrs. "That's all I could ask for, tough guy."
The happy couple grins warmly to each other, and they know they've got it good.
Miz never thought that having the life of an A-Lister could one day save the life of both himself, and his family. Who would have thought?
He's the real rockstar in the WWE. That's why the others are hiding, and he's out by the pool with his wife and his daughter, at his own house.
Miz is untouchable, and no one can deny it.
