A/N: Well, hey everyone! Sorry I've been sucky at updating, I've been working more in the wee morning hours and by the time I'm done, all I want is a great nap. That being said, I've finally written the next chapter. Keep the love flowing, and I'll give you some back!
"Roman, what the fuck was that? You made us look like fools out there tonight!" Seth pushed his buddy towards the cement wall right near the locker room they shared. Dean Ambrose walked about ten paces behind the other two, pretending he didn't exist at all. Roman knew that the architect was pissed at him. While the trio should be walking on sunshine, Roman seemed to be stumbling completely out of the galaxy.
"I guess I'm just...having a hard time focusing..."
Seth halted completely, now nose to nose with his friend. "For the hundredth time, you're like a bro to me. I get you guys are in a bitch fight, I get that Chelsea wants nothing to do with you anymore. But this is our career. This is our life. If you want to stick around in this business, you have got to get your shit together. You, too, Ambrose!" Seth shot to the other man, who was looming in the background. "Put the bullshit aside, and let's make a huge impact like we're supposed to. We don't have half the superstars we used to, which means us three have opportunities to be where they once were. Knock off the shit, and let's pull it together."
Roman stood up straighter, a glaring difference in height and stature between the men.
"First of all, Seth, we all know that you're getting the big break first. That's obvious. Why else would they have chosen YOU to buddy up to the Authority? The writers obviously see something in YOU. Dean and I are going to be swinging around in the background while you fight Cena, Orton...shit, Brock Lesnar...and second of all, you have no business telling me how to feel. Just because you don't have a heart at all doesn't mean you should chastise me for having one. You've never been heartbroken, all you've ever been interested in is getting your dick wet. So don't tell me to get it together, I'm fucking trying to!" Roman's temper flared, and Seth's nostrils flared, and the shorter superstar was ready to snap.
Dean stared wide-eyed as everything seemed to unfold before his eyes. Deciding to try to break the other two up before something ugly happened, he saw an opportunity to come clean about everything.
"Roman-listen-about Chelsea-" Dean started towards his former friend, only to be greeted by Roman's fist connecting with his jaw.
"I don't care!" Roman roared back. "Fuck her! And fuck you, Dean, fuck you!"
Dean slightly adjusted his jaw. Not broken, but would probably hurt for a few days.
"Roman, if you would just listen, it wasn't like that..." he tried again, hoping to reveal the confession he was about to make in its entirety.
"No? You were fucking her behind my back, too?" Roman was getting ferocious now...and Dean suddenly realized his behavior was extremely altered.
"No, Roman, I wasn't. I cared about her too, just in a different way. We'll talk about this when you're sober."
Seth straightened out, too, shock and panic now crossing his features. He walked towards Roman, now pacing in front of the man. It was as if suddenly, the world made sense. Yes, it did make sense. Roman was clumsy in the ring, he looked like a Samoan joke, and suddenly it was obvious that the factor wasn't that he was still torn about Chelsea. He was fucking drunk.
"How many drinks did you have?" he asked after a long time.
"Don't matter," Roman grumbled. "A few."
"You shouldn't be out there after you've been drinking, Roman!" Seth now had him up against the wall, his fists holding his black ring gear. "Not only did you look like complete shit out there, you could have seriously hurt someone! How fucking dare you put everyone in real danger! Botched moves like you had tonight is one thing, but that...that could get you fired. Hopefully nobody else thought you'd do something so juvenile! You better hope to hell that Steph or Trips didn't consider that a possibility."
"Consider what a possibility?" a gruff voice asked, and all three men turned to see Hunter standing behind, watching the show.
"Roman missing so many moves. We're hoping that won't set him back," Dean said quickly, hoping his boss hadn't heard the full breakdown of the story.
"Yes, well. That was a pretty horrific performance. I've seen much better than that from you guys. And I get you all are going through your personal riffs, and it's hard when you're young. Believe me, I know...after Joanie and I called it quits, it set me backwards, too...but only because I let it. Roman, you have the potential to be the next Brock Lesnar. Dean, the next Stone Cold...and Seth, the next...well, me. But as you know, I started with D-Generation X, as a team. If it wasn't for working with those men so well, I doubt I'd been able to move up as quickly as I did."
"Yes, sir," Dean replied, feeling like a scolded student.
"Let's get you guys doing some ring work together. I have some ideas for your match at Wrestlemania, and it would be truly awful if you put on a godawful performance like you did tonight. Roman," Triple H tilted his head towards the Samoan, without another word, excusing himself.
"I don't really know what I'm supposed to do," Chelsea semi-whined to her friend. AJ looked at her thoughtfully, shrugging her shoulders.
Chelsea sat on the floor, a towel draped across her shoulders, black hair dye sprinkling her forehead. Even though AJ told her that the diva's makeup artist and hair stylists were both staying in the hotels with them through the Raw after Wrestlemania, Chelsea didn't want to bother the over-stressed women. She opted to do it herself, finally completely covering any color in her hair at all. It was a renewal process, she decided; first the teal with Hardy, and the reddish with Roman. Now, it was all black.
AJ was keeping her company as she waited for a call from her fiance. He was going to have a few meetings with MMA representatives, hoping to find a coach. Though AJ was worried, she made it clear to everyone and anyone that she was supportive of her man's decisions.
"I mean, it's pretty special that Steph would offer you to do some red carpet interviews. Just because you can't compete doesn't mean you shouldn't be involved."
"I guess, but I don't really have good interviewing skills. Remember when I had to interview Nat? That was a disaster."
AJ laughed. "Yeah, but her own dumb choices to make fun of you on public television cost her tons of opportunity. Even Steph was furious, and it caused a huge wave of drama trying to cut that interview off from Smackdown. Not to mention, thousands of people still saw it."
"Yeah, let's not relive it," Chelsea groaned, and AJ giggled again. "You'll be fine. You probably won't even run into Nat. Most likely, they'll give you a list of people that you're going to interview, one of the lowly, newbie camera men will be following you around, and they'll pull anything interesting from your interviews."
Chelsea stayed silent, considering AJ's perspective. Chelsea had been totally up for anything the WWE threw her way, knowing fully well she had to start back at the bottom to eventually climb up. That was fine. But she couldn't help but feel intimidated...after all, superstars like Hulk Hogan, The Ultimate Warrior, and Mick Foley were all regular attendees at the Hall of Fame ceremony. Plus, Warrior would actually be inducted this year.
"I guess I better find something appropriate to wear," Chelsea said back, defeated.
"Yeah, you should. And also, you'd better make sure you have something nice to wear to Brie's wedding. If you look dumb, Nikki will put you back on her shit list."
"Shut your face," Chelsea joked back, still surprised that she was asked to go at all.
AJ gave a light smile. "You'll be fine, Chels. This is nothing compared to the bullshit you've been tolerating for the past few weeks."
AJ's cell phone began vibrating, and she winked at her friend, answering the call and leaving Chelsea alone in the hotel room.
Chelsea pulled at her black jeans again, annoyed that they kept riding up her ass. She wore ridiculously high black studded heels, and a cobalt blue jacket with a flimsy white shirt beneath. Her hair was styled in a sleek, straight manner; her eyes as dark as usual. She was was doing a impromptu interview with PW Insider, a prestigious magazine that had a no-holds-barred attitude. Since everyone else was running around crazy, Steph had given Chelsea the go-ahead, but gently reminded her to be careful with what she wanted people to know.
"Chelsea Sweetly, that's the girl of the hour," said a large, burly man. He reminded her of a lumberjack.
"Nice to meet you. You must be Robert," she smiled, hoping she didn't have lunch in her teeth.
"Call me Rob. Are you ready to get started?"
Chelsea shrugged, wishing they hadn't done this in such a public place. Though they were in the VIP area of this tiny restaurant, she still couldn't quite feel at ease. She had a suspicion that she'd be asked shit that she never, ever wanted to talk about publicly...specifically, Roman and Dean, Allison and her drug problems... She took a drink from her sparkling water, ready to answer anything.
"Great. First things first, I'll be recording this. This won't be publicly released, and I will only gather what I deem necessary. All the tape recorder is is a tool to go back to things we've spoken about. I do not manipulate what you say versus what you mean; and I will not make you look like a fool for personal pleasure. Our magazine is a big deal, and we don't need to gain readers based off from bullshit. Alright?"
Chelsea shook her head, surprised that this guy was so straightforward. She began to ease up.
"I gotta ask, it's what's on everyone's mind. Why wasn't Chelsea Sweetly part of the Divas tournament for Wrestlemania? Injury?"
Chelsea breathed, annoyed already. Of course he'd go and ask that right away.
"I'm not injured. I wish I could fight. But the way I left the company my first go-around put me in a position where I need to literally start back from the bottom. Mostly, I'm just hoping that these little things I've been doing are recognized so that one day, I'll be back in the title picture."
"Speaking of the title picture, AJ Lee seems to be one of your friends. Any input on her and her apparent engagement to former champion, CM Punk?"
"AJ is one of the nicest women I've ever met. I'm lucky that she and I got along quickly and easily. I know that she wears a beautiful ring, but other than that, I respect her privacy to the fullest."
"So, what about your relationship?"
Chelsea laughed. "I don't have time for that," she joked, flipping her black hair behind her back.
Robert gave a toothy smile, adjusting in his chair. Chelsea noticed the man's buttoned shirt was popping open, his huge frame clearly too large for the size he had on.
"But you did," Rob pointed out. "What's the story behind you and Shield frontman, Roman Reigns?"
Chelsea quickly racked her brain, trying to be selective so that she didn't say too much. Though he said he wouldn't manipulate her story, she knew how these journalists could be. He would certainly try to push for the right story.
"I loved Roman with all that I had. But, at the end of the day, schedules are hectic and our careers are too fresh to be focused on anything else."
"So there's potential to continue that relationship at some point?"
Chelsea sucked air from between her teeth, not sure how to answer. "It's tough to say. I think Roman's moved on to other things, and I'm just focused on getting better and stronger in the ring. It would be awesome to be able to square off with AJ one day."
"That's one match that would be interesting, especially because the only comparable athlete to AJ is you at present moment. Will we see you fight more in the ring?"
"Yes, absolutely. I will be doing some pre-shows for now, so if you want to see me, you'll have to tune into either the WWE Network or you'll have to physically be there."
"That must be a ball-buster. Does it bother you knowing you're not slated for the house shows?"
"Honestly, no. Because like I said, there are so many women who have already proven themselves to be where they are. Take Nikki Bella, for example; or Tamina Snuka. Those women have made a huge impact. I don't think it would be fair for me to come trotting in and expecting tons of airtime."
"Fantastic. Now I'm sorry to have brought this up, but there was a picture surfacing the internet between you and Dean Ambrose. How did that impact you or your relationship with Roman?"
Chelsea shook her head, hating the social media world.
"It's really unfortunate that this picture exists at all. Dean and I have a long friendship, and he's been there through a lot of unfortunate things in my life. One intense conversation brought on a kiss that never should have happened. I'm sure that it upset Roman just as much, but at that point, our relationship didn't exist."
Chelsea knew she'd lied about the last part. But...she had to save her reputation a little bit, right?
Rob raised an eyebrow, and she knew he didn't believe her.
"So how about you and Dean Ambrose? Any story there?"
"Dean is my in-ring instructor and dear friend. We've talked plenty about how we feel for each other. And we both agreed that we don't have that kind of relationship-we couldn't. "
That sparked a full-fledged conversation regarding Chelsea and Dean's grueling workout and ring schedule, the shit he made her do to get her prepared for the ring, and the evolution of her finishing moves. A good half hour was spend ignoring the crazy shit that was Chelsea's life in favor of the actual hard work and dedication she was putting in to prove to the world that she belonged in the WWE.
Also, there was absolutely no mention of the Hart Dungeon, Jeff Hardy, or Natalie. Thank God. Still, Chelsea felt overwhelmed; realizing that she hated interviews because she never knew what kind of questions would be coming her way. Though she was relieved, she was also immensely saddened that every little thing she did was all over the internet, that this total stranger probably didn't need to ask her about Hardy or the Hart family because that was already public news.
"Very well. I think I've got everything I need, Chelsea. Joanna is my photographer, she'll be giving you a call in the next few days. You can set up an appointment with her, so we can get this printed and in the June edition."
Chelsea stood up in unison with Rob, relieved that this whole excruciating interview was finally over. They quickly shook hands and parted ways, and she nearly ran out of the VIP area, though not unnoticed; quite a few people yelled something her way as she exited the building.
She made a beeline to the nearest taxi, ignoring everyone. Slamming the door shut, she felt herself crumble in the back seat, defeated. For the first time since the initial break up, she sobbed, wishing that she was different. Wishing things had been different. And mostly, wishing that she still had Roman Reigns to go home to.
With a quick brush through his moppy hair, Dean gave a sigh as he knocked on Roman's hotel room door. The Samoan superstar hadn't spoken to him since he'd punched his face, and Dean knew he had every right to be pissed at him. But this was getting ridiculous...he was skipping workouts with Seth, ignoring texts, coming in late to interviews, and acting like a grade-A asshat. The only solution was that Dean had to sit down and give a valid attempt to speak to his former friend, because he sure had a mouthful to say.
When Roman didn't answer, he knocked again, but this time, he heard a woman laughing inside.
Shocked, Dean decided to high-tail it out of there. Go fucking figure Roman would go back to his playboy ways.
"Hey, hey, Dino, watch it," he said, as he nearly knocked over petite little AJ Lee in the hallway.
"I um...sorry."
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I um, Roman."
"Alright, we don't do well at English? Or...?"
Dean shrugged, making a motion towards Roman's door. AJ's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but when the tinkly laughter and Roman's guffaws filled the air, she completely understood.
"Oh. Oh dear," she responded, and Dean couldn't help but notice the hurt she carried in her dark eyes.
Dean nodded. "Chelsea," he managed to spit out.
"Yeah, that's definitely not our girl in there with him. What the hell?"
"I didn't know he was seeing someone new," Dean responded dumbly. "I just really wanted my two closest friends back together and happy again." He said the last statement so quietly that it was as if he didn't say it at all.
AJ tilted her head to the side in a way that made it seem that she was analyzing his sincerity. He must have passed her little test, because she nodded, as if she knew the pain. And, Dean supposed, she probably did.
"Chels can't find out about this. It'll set her off. She's a mess and a half already, even though she pretends...You need to talk to him and tell him your little schpeel. I don't think what you and Chelsea did...lying about whatever...was right. But I don't think it's a relationship-ruiner, either. Talk to him."
"I was going to. Truly. But, the last time I tried..."
"-He bashed your jaw. Yeah, I see the bruise now."
Yeah, yeah. Fuck off. Dean thought to himself.
With that, Rosa Mendes' semi-drunk ass emerged from Roman's room, stumbling opposite the other two in the hallway. Roman stood in the doorway, watching her tanned, beautiful and partially nude body find her own room. He had a half-smile on his lips.
But then, he turned the opposite way, where he was being watched by AJ and Dean, who both had their mouths open in disbelief. Their eyes all connected with one another, and surprise was written on his face, too.
Busted.