The bell sounded to bring an end to Wade Barrett's three month reign as Intercontinental champion. A shame, thought AJ, that belt looked good on him. The white of the strap really brought out the green in his eyes, she'd once joked. All in all, Wrestlemania weekend had gone swimmingly. Wade had played a blinder at dinner with her parents. Never before had she heard her father eagerly ask 'when can we see him again?' of one of her boyfriends. Dolph had long since become resigned to his pre-show slot and was in high spirits; he'd given a stellar performance and provided very pleasant company in the locker room while she watched Wade in action. Stepping through the curtain in front of 80,000 people just three miles from where she had worked as a receptionist a mere four years earlier had been an incomparably elating experience. Yes, she would have preferred to have been wrestling, and she certainly would have preferred to have been on the main card. However, at the end of the day, she was doing her dream job on the grandest stage possible in her home state, while her family and some of her oldest friends cheered her on from ringside and the man she loved waited for her backstage, before taking his own turn in the spotlight. It didn't get much better than that.
She bade farewell to Dolph and headed back to gorilla to greet Wade as he returned from the fray, slipping off her neon pink 'Show Off' wristband and replacing it with the beautiful gold bracelet that was now among her most treasured possessions. The changing of wristwear was now an important part of her pre and post-show rituals. She found it incredibly symbolic, the point at which she ceased to be April Mendez and became AJ Lee and vice versa. The perturbed stares from onlookers that always accompanied her and Wade's enthusiastic reunions following their matches no longer bothered her, in fact she almost revelled in them. No one had the guts to say or do anything, all hushed whispers and murmurings under the breath, so why should they care? There was never a point in her life where the prospect of other people holding unspoken animosity or ill-feeling towards her had bothered her less. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, and, as Kaitlyn had predicted, each week they seemed to attract a new advocate to their cause. They'd weathered the worst of the storm and stayed afloat. This was indeed how it was supposed to be.
Wade staggered up the aisle, wincing and clutching his chin. This wasn't selling, Kofi had connected way harder than he needed to with that kick. He almost expected it now, he'd been stiffed more times in the last few months than in his entire career previously, it was the rite of passage for the roster's bete noire. He was the last of the title match's four combatants to reach gorilla. Kofi had joined the massed ranks congratulating new champion Seth Rollins. Miz sat on a nearby crate grimacing as an EMT removed several splinters from his back, the legacy of a plunge through a table courtesy of the Shield, while Maryse looked on, her face a glorious mixture of concern and amusement. He lifted his right hand from his still-smarting jaw and offered a handshake to Seth.
"Good job, m'lad. Take good care of it, yeah?" he said cheerily, tapping the belt slung over the younger man's shoulder. He did his best to ignore the apprehensive glares as he approached the celebratory crowd, as if they expected him to hurl Rollins across the room or berate him for some mild misdemeanour or other during the match. That was how the hivemind worked. All it took was to break one girl's heart and then all of a sudden any display of civility surprised them.
"Thanks, man," Seth panted. Grounded and far too focused on his craft to get caught up in any locker room back-biting, Wade didn't begrudge surrendering the title to him one bit. Seth clearly had a very bright future and he was proud to have helped him on his way. However, he knew any more than a cursory 'well done' would be overstaying his welcome in the eyes of most of those present.
"Looooo-ser!" Wade heard a very familiar voice call from behind him, he wheeled round and met her eyes, the eyes he always hoped to meet first every time he exited the theatre of conflict.
He extended his arms to her, only for her to beg him off with her hands and back up, looking down her nose at him.
"I don't think so. I've no time for former Intercontinental champions," AJ smirked derisively.
"This girl goes where the gold is. Hey, Seth!"
She feigned flirtation in the direction of the belt's new owner, twirling her hair around her finger and slowly swaying her hips.
"That's a little too convincing," Wade laughed and pulled her possessively towards him.
"Don't worry, Wadey," she cooed in a tone of mock-patronisation.
"You might be a choke artist, but you're my choke artist."
He leant down and she gave him a swift peck on the lips.
"Do only winners get snogs?" he asked playfully.
"No, it's just you'll have that icky cottonmouth thing going on. Trust me, a know I fair bit about kissing guys during and after wrestling matches."
"My bloody chin!" Wade lamented as another stab of pain rippled along his jawline.
"Eugh, not you as well! AJ sighed.
"I've had to put up with Nick yammering on about his damn nose for the last hour and a half. Did you see when he hit the apron? It was a standard bump, you both need to grow a pair!"
"To be honest, it was rather difficult to concentrate on that match considering the visual feast available for my delectation at ringside," crooned Wade, causing AJ to scrunch her face coyly and blush. He adored how even now he couldn't complement her appearance with out her turning into a bashful teenager. Still, he had a good joke lined up and couldn't resist busting her bubble.
"I don't know what you're looking so smug about. I was just saying that Big E looked absolutely stunning tonight. I'm a sucker for a bloke in a leotard."
AJ jumped up and prodded him firmly on the chin, causing him to hop and swear while she giggled mischievously. Before Wade could retaliate, a stagehand appeared with his trademark entrance coat. AJ's face lit up and she eagerly snatched it from him, holding it to her nose and inhaling deeply.
"Mmm, it smells of you. Like, sexy, fragrant pre-match you. Not gross, sweaty post-match you. I'm gonna try it on!"
"It's approximately twenty-four sizes too big for you," he grinned as she slid her arms into the jacket and they fell way short of emerging at the other end, while the tails dragged along the floor like a bridal train.
"Take a picture!" she chirped, thrusting her phone into his hand and striking her customary double thumbs-up pose. Wade rolled his eyes, outwardly despairing but as always inwardly delighted to see AJ driven into a whirl of giddy ecstasy by his presence. He knew his surliness and dry humour in response was all part of the fun for her.
"You look like a toddler in his dad's suit," he quipped, examining the photo and handing the phone back to her. AJ shone with glee as looked at the screen.
"To Twitter we go with you..." she muttered, navigating across the touchpad with her finger.
"Can't it wait?" Wade implored, putting his arms around her ribs and manoevring her gently into him. She slid the phone back into her jeans pocket and smiled sweetly as her gaze found his. For a moment they just stared at each other, simultaneously taking in the wonderful surreality of their situation. How they had gone from almost strangers to being completely at one with each other in such a short space of time, the purely coincidental turns of events that had brought them together, the tribulations they had already braved that had at times seemed insurmountable.
Wade raised his right hand, caressing AJ's cheek, causing her to bite her bottom lip. She didn't know how one simple touch from him could make her feel so many different positive things, but it always did. And to know she was the only girl who'd had this pleasure, the only one he'd ever loved, gave her such an overwhelming sense of importance and uniqueness. 32 years of untapped devotion being directed solely at her, no wonder it felt more intense and more powerful than anything she'd previously experienced.
"I love you," she sighed softly. Wade never used to understand it. Three words, how could they possibly mean so much? Anyone could say that. What a load of absolute crap. He realised now it wasn't really about the words at all, but everything around them. It was her gorgeous dark chocolate eyes widening with awe and infatuation, the tension and the holding of her breath just before the declaration left her, like it was the culmination of an almighty, irrepressible swelling of emotion shooting through her entire body.
She fell against his chest, apparently not dissuaded by the fact it was still smeared with sweat, her arms extending as far around his hulking torso as they could go. He enveloped her waist with one arm and placed the other snugly behind her head, so it was cradled in his palm as she rested it side-on against his heart. Her eyes were closed and a blissful smile was plastered across her lips. She looked completely and utterly at peace and he didn't want to disturb this moment until absolutely necessary. No doubt they were staring by now. He didn't want to look up to see. It didn't matter. No one else mattered right now.
"The feeling is more than mutual, poppet," he said, craning his neck downwards to warmly kiss the top of her head and inhale that alluring vanilla scent. To think he'd for so long been convinced feelings like this didn't exist, or that they were somehow a detriment. Every day his decision to renege and let her in was further vindicated, life with out her seemed far too dull, quiet and lonely to be possibly worthwhile.
"What the hell have you done to me, eh?" he questioned in thankful disbelief, shaking his head.
"I've made you into a man," she dreamily replied almost instantly, still not opening her eyes.
Wade looked up as Seth's congratulatory party began to file out, many attempting to send furtive glances their way before quickly deflecting their gaze upon making eye contact with him. Pathetic. Only Kofi returned his glare, giving a stiff shake of his head. Wade raised his eyebrows challengingly and a the left side of his mouth curled up into a grin. Kofi raised his hand dismissively as he turned and followed the others down the corridor. Maryse, now far removed enough from the backstage gossip circle to look upon them with unbiased eyes, was the sole well-wisher, mouthing 'aww' and smiling encouragingly at him. Wade beamed rather uncharacteristically back at her. It was nice to be reminded that, estranged from all the bullshit, the opinions expressed as fact, the demonisation that had occurred as a result of a few honest mistakes, they were just two people clearly in love. And as a great man once said, that wasn't a bad thing, that was a good thing.
Ten minutes away from his momentous showdown with the Undertaker, CM Punk arrived at gorilla ready to make his entrance. He'd somehow managed to brush off Aksana's bizarre intrusion a few hours prior as if it had never happened. His mind was now solely fixated on the business at hand. That, and offering heartfelt goodwill to the man he had first met as an ungainly 18-year-old at the Ring of Honor training school but now stood before him looking every inch a WWE superstar, every inch the champion he now was. But as he joined Seth in a brotherly embrace, he caught sight of the happy couple at the far end of the room.
From then on he faded into the background of the throng, ostensibly still part of the celebrations but in reality training his eyes firmly on AJ and Wade, no matter how he tried to will himself to avert them. How happy she seemed to be with that man, it was another level of joy to any she'd ever expressed around Punk himself. She was totally consumed by his company, as if the room were empty but for the two of them. So animated and affectionate, it would have been thoroughly heartwarming to see her this way if not for... Well, if not for the fact he would have given anything to switch places with Wade Barrett right now. Anything. Even the career-defining match he was about to work. God, what had happened to him? Aksana was right, no longer did his in-ring accomplishments stand foremost in his mind, no longer were they the be all and end all, one glance at her with him and all of a sudden it was just a man pretending to fight another man. Aksana couldn't have surmised it better, hollow.
'Five seconds and I'm turning away' he tried to tell himself, but then he saw the words leave AJ's lips, her entire face softening in agreement with them. 'I love you.' His taped fists tightened like a vice and shook, his knuckles whitening with the pressure he was putting them under. It was taking everything he had not to march over there, shove that smug British bastard aside, lift her little frame into his arms and say 'I love you too.' But her words weren't directed at him. They never would be unless he did something about it. A line had been crossed in his mind, his principles shattered by the agony that gripped him. Beyond physical, beyond mental. The agony of a heart that wouldn't let him defy it any longer. He watched on aghast as Wade held her, saw her enter a dreamlike state in his clutches, her delicate features communicating pure contentment. Punk had slipped the moorings of rationality, morality and resignation. He knew that some day, somehow, he needed to be the one that caused that look. He had to have her.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" the shock caused him to finally break his unshakeable fixation upon AJ and Wade. From lord knew where, Aksana had appeared beside him, her tone spiky, self-satisfied and supercilious.
"You," he thundered, turning to her.
"I was absolutely fine with all of this until you opened your trap. Perhaps you should find a hobby that doesn't involve screwing up people's lives!"
"Screwing up your life? No, no, no," she said in a disapproving, schoolteacher voice, wagging her finger at him.
"I didn't plant these feelings in your mind, I merely uncovered them. The truth will always out eventually. I just like to... accelerate the process where I see fit."
Punk gaped at her. Who on Earth spoke like that? Behaved like that? And most importantly, could see into his own head better than he could? She didn't even know him really, yet every word she had spoken to him in the locker room was ringing loud and true. He scanned back over their earlier conversation, recalling its most intriguing detail, one he had dismissed totally at the time but was now of paramount importance.
"You said there was someone else who 'shared my pain' or whatever it was. Who did you mean?" he asked, desperation and self-disgust coating his delivery.
"You're an intelligent man, surely you can work it out," she drawled absent-mindedly.
"Alicia Fox? Oh now, come on! Hasn't she been through enough? I'm not dragging her into this."
"Oh, I think you'll find she's already dragged herself in. All in."
"What are you talking about now?"
"There's more to sweet, heartbroken Alicia than meets the eye. I tried to give her what she wanted, but fate clearly wasn't on her side. However, it may be on yours. Your quest for AJ's heart may be the added variable she needs for her stars to align," well, that didn't clear anything up at all. Still, while he may have had no idea what she was talking about, Punk somehow knew Aksana was alluding to something rather crucial.
"And what does Alicia want?" he asked, rigid with anticipation.
"Wade Barrett. Broken. And these days, there's only one way to do that."
Punk began to crack a sadistic smile more suited to his on-screen persona, then remembered himself and sealed his lips in horror. Conspiring against Wade was one thing, but taking sick pleasure in it was quite another. He couldn't let his mind warp to that extent.
"If you'll excuse us, young lady, the only date this man has tonight is with wrestling history," Paul Heyman placed a fatherly hand on Punk's shoulder, shooting Aksana a condescending look as if she were some gormless ring-rat. If only he knew, Punk thought.
As 'Cult of Personality' boomed through MetLife Stadium and Paul led him toward the curtain, Punk glanced back one last time toward the corner where AJ and Wade had been stood. They had now separated and were looking right at him.
"Break a leg, Punkers!" AJ shouted enthusiastically and raised her thumbs again. She'd long learnt not to say 'good luck.' Wade, for his part, nodded at him in respectful acknowledgement and smiled supportively. Punk weakly returned both the smile and the thumbs, but as soon as he turned back to the curtain his face plummeted. He shut his eyes, began his usual routine of bouncing on the balls of his feet and circling his wrists, vainly hoping to erase the last few minutes from his mind, if only temporarily. He was going to hate himself by the end of all this. But then, if he let her slip away, he'd never forgive himself. If he were able to wrench AJ from Wade, convince her it was him she needed to be with, then she'd be happy, and maybe that would assuage his guilt. He just hoped fate was on his side.