(AN: Chapter 38 is here! Finally another chapter is completed! There will be two more chapters after this one, and that's it. The end of the fic-but before we say goodbye, let's say hello to a new year (bad joke, but it was kinda funny).
Chapter Thirty-Eight: New Year, Same Shit
Punk's POV
It was the last Monday Night Raw of 2013 and I was fired up to say the least. We were being hosted by the city of Richmond, Virginia and I couldn't help but feel like tonight was going to be a great show. Fittingly enough, I was scheduled to open the show and tell the WWE universe just how excited I was at the prospects of the impending New Year, it was no secret that I had had a fantastic past year. I didn't have that much time to dwell on my fond memories, because I was interrupted by the confused face of one of my bosses.
"Oh Hunter, hey. Sorry, I didn't see you there" I apologized after I realized I accidently bumped into my former foe and current employer.
"It's fine Punk. Actually I'm glad I ran into you—well you ran into me, but anyway, I was meaning to talk to you about something" he explained.
I couldn't help but furrow my brows slightly at his words.
"Is it important? I was on my way back to the locker room to see Hannah and Matthew before the show."
"No it can wait until after the show, just stop by my office. Stephanie, Vince and I want to speak to you" he stated with a slightly more serious tone.
"I'm not being fired, right?" I wondered, trying to keep my voice void of emotion.
Hunter shook his head and gave me a small smile.
"No, nothing like that at all. Just try to have a good match out there" he said and then hurried down the hall towards the offices.
I remained rooted in my spot, pondering what he needed to tell me after the show. I shrugged it off and walked the short distance down the corridor to the men's locker room. I was instantly met with the smiling faces of my wife, son and the guys.
"What's going on in here?" I wondered, taking a seat next to Hannah.
She turned to face me and flashed me a smile.
"The guys were just filling me in on all the fun they had when they took Matthew out on a few errands today."
The guys had volunteered to bring their nephew out with them to pick out some necessities for the tour bus. Naturally there was going to be a funny tale involved.
"How did you guys traumatize my son today?" I dead-panned, chuckling at all of my friends.
They all feigned hurt for a minute, eventually succumbing to their laughter.
"We did not 'traumatize' him—we took him out for a fun day with his uncles. We got everything on Hannah's list of stuff for the bus and we even got Matthew a toy. We are the best uncles ever" Randal exclaimed happily, moving to tickle the baby in my wife's arms.
I couldn't help but chuckle at his excitement.
"Sounds like you guys had a great day. Thanks for taking care of him and actually getting everything on the list. What's the occasion?" I joked, smiling at the men.
"Nothing, really; we just didn't want to ruin our really good day. We were in the baby aisle getting some more stuff for this little guy when I swear a pack of women came up to us, all of them practically drooling over Matthew" Jeff explained, a grin on his face.
"Oh really? Seems like my son is quite the ladies' man—all before the age of one. That has to be a record or something" Hannah stated with a laugh, placing a chaste kiss on top of our wonderfully cute son's head.
"I don't think I've ever seen that many women flock near Edge at one time—it was madness. And naturally he thought the attention was because of him, and he was just a little jealous when he realized it was for the baby—it was friggin hysterical" Randy recounted, cracking everyone up.
"Seems like a big day of excitement for such a little guy. How many numbers did he get?" I inquired.
Edge pretended to count the number on his fingers, and finally revealed that Matthew didn't get any real numbers for playdates from the adult women, but he sure loved all the attention.
"And because he was such a good boy, we got him a toy. The guy at the store said it was for his age and that it will help him as he grows" Jeff divulged, holding up the colorful object for me to inspect.
"As long as it doesn't light up or play music, we're good" Hannah announced—we had had experience with annoying and loud toys rearing their irritating heads at the worst of times.
"This one doesn't—it's just a plush little thing that will be good now that he's teething and will be fun for him to play with and becomes more interactive and responsive" Edge told everyone, shocking us with his new-found knowledge.
"Well look who became a baby expert after one trip to the store" I said, mocking the Canadian superstar.
We spent the rest of the time before the show playing with the Matthew and his new toy, his uncles more than excited to spend time with him. After laughing and making jokes with the guys in the locker room, it was time for me to open the last RAW of 2013 and I simply couldn't wait to make it down to the ring. My music cut signaling my entrance and I entered the ring with a huge grin. I began telling the WWE universe that I was excited for tonight's show, I had had a good year—well good and bad, a year of many ups and downs. I started of 2013 as the longest-reigning champion in the last twenty-five years, a major accolade. I fought the Rock and Undertaker in the same year and welcomed my first child with my lovely wife—clearly not a year of dull moments. I had made and lost friends this year; I even got to beat up one of my former friends, Paul Heyman with a kendo stick. So was 2013 the 'Year of Punk'? Some would disagree and instead say that the Shield had a better year, and as I said I wanted the year to go out on a good note, the members of the year's dominant faction entered the ring.
They came to the ring, waiting for a challenge from me. They wanted to end 2013 by ending me—boasting that the Shield could beat any competitor as a unit. I didn't want to fight all three men, I wanted to be the best and fight the best member one on one. Ambrose soon became fired up, until I divulged that I wasn't referring to him—he wasn't the best because I had already beaten him. I was talking to Rollins and Reigns and even went as far as to call Dean the 'weak link' of the group. So it was between Roman and Rollins—who was the best? Everyone in the WWE universe claims that Roman is the best man of the stable and after the two remaining members of the Shield confer, Seth announces he wants to fight me—much to my delight.
Brad Maddox then strolled into the arena and announced a match between Seth and I; the match is started and we face off. Unfortunately, at one point I got thrown off the top post of the ring into the barricade and my head was bounced off the top turnbuckle—two truly fun and enjoyable moments. Seth mocked my signature GTS move at one point; however, there was a distraction by the other members of the Shield and I was able to kick out of Rollins' cover. In the end, I was able to hit my finishing move and pick up the victory. It was exactly the way I wanted to go out this year—dominant and on top.
After grabbing a towel in the backstage area, I wasted no time getting back to Hannah and the baby. They were both all smiles when they saw me entering the canteen; Matthew had his tiny arms reaching out for me, and I instantly picked him up, laughing as he cooed at me.
"Awesome match babe, you were truly fantastic" my wife praised and I thanked her by placing a kiss on her temple.
"Thanks, unfortunately I can't stay that long in the canteen. Hunter said he wanted to see me in his office after my match. I'm just going to throw on some clothes and go see what he wants. I'll meet you guys back on the bus with the guys, okay?"
Hannah furrowed her brows at me, obviously confused as to why my bosses wanted to see me post-match.
"Is everything alright? Why does he want to see you?" she inquired, fear rising in her voice.
"I have no idea—he didn't tell me. He said I wasn't being fired, so that's good news. Hey, relax babe. It's going to be fine, and I'll be back before you know it" I said, trying to quell her panic.
She nodded and slipped her arms into mine, transferring our baby into her embrace.
"We'll be on the bus, apparently the guys think that they're traveling with us for the next few shows, is that true?" she asked with a raised brow.
"I may have told them that it was okay for them to ride with us. See you later honey" I told her quickly, half-way out of the canteen before she could respond.
I hurried through the motions of getting dressed, wanting to get to the office as quickly as possible. I made my way to Hunter's office and took a deep breath before making my presence known. I was in the room within seconds and was met with the faces of Stephanie, Vince and Hunter—not exactly the most calming atmosphere.
"Punk, come on in. We just wanted to congratulate you on your match tonight—it was great" Stephanie began, with her husband and father agreeing.
"Thanks, Rollins was a good in-ring partner, it was a fun match. It was nice to go out with an exciting fight."
"We just wanted to talk to you about the upcoming pay-per-view" Hunter stated and I immediately took a seat, knowing it was needed for a conversation like this.
"Well at last year's Royal Rumble you had a spectacular match against the Rock for the title, however, this year you will be in the actual Rumble match with a majority of the roster" Vince told me, causing me to grin in excitement.
"That sounds great to me. As you guys all know, I've been in my fair share of Rumble matches, but I've never won one before, so this is going to be a fun challenge."
The three heads of the company all nodded at me in agreement, but they didn't seem to be finished with our little 'meeting'.
"Unfortunately this year, you will not come out of the match victorious. The writers have a different winner planned and the subsequent storylines are being worked on as we speak" Stephanie said with the straightest of expressions.
I couldn't help but look back at my employers with a confused expression etched on my face.
"Alright, then why tell me this now? Are you guys bringing in every guy from the roster one by one to break this to them? This could have all really been covered in an email or one of the meetings with my handlers" I replied, feeling the frustration beginning to build in the pit of my stomach.
"There's more actually—the winner of the match is not on the active roster right now, but is coming back to the company for a stint" Hunter divulged, clearly not one for stating the explicit details.
"And that would be who?" I wondered, cocking my head to one side.
The room was silent for a moment as the owners of the WWE glanced back and forth between themselves.
"The Animal, Dave Batista" Vince said, looking me dead in the eye.
My reaction was instantaneous, using the desk in front of me; I flung myself out of my chair, visibly angry.
"You're kidding, right? This is like some prank or something. You're really going to bring back a part-timer like Batista to win the Rumble—which we all know is one of the most important matches of the year when there are literally dozens of guys on the active roster that deserve the chance—including yours truly" I exclaimed, beyond pissed at their announcement.
"While we agree that the company has many talented Superstars that could win, the writers and the marketing team believe this is the best decision" Stephanie stated with a smile.
"Well I think that is a crock of shit—excuse my language. Actually, don't excuse me. This is a bad fucking decision and you all know it."
"Punk, there is no reason for that type of language. You're still going to be prominently featured in the match, you just aren't going to win" Vince tried to reason.
"That's supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't."
"We're sorry you feel that way Punk. We just thought that it would be better if we broke the news to you in person" Hunter explained, trying to reassure me.
There was a brief moment of silence before the head and owner of the company spoke up.
"Punk, we understand you're upset right now. However, we do have some other news to tell you."
I tried to keep my seething anger to a minimum and calmly asked my boss what he meant.
"You will be the first entrant in the match, and you know what that means. It's going to be one hell of a long match if you want to be one of the last two men standing" Vince finished with what could only be explained as a smug grin.
"Fucking perfect" I retorted, flinging open the door to the office and storming off.
I knew that I couldn't go back to the bus in my current state and I stumbled into an empty corridor for a moment, needing a moment alone. As my anger continued to boil, I tried my hardest to remain calm and not have a massive fit of rage. Rather than act out my displeasure at the announcement for the next PPV winner by say, punching or kicking something or someone—I simply slid down the wall and cradled my head in my hands.
To say that I was pissed was a vast understatement. I felt completely robbed and looked over by the owners of the company—I simply couldn't believe that they were willing to bring a part-timer rather than having someone who actually fought on a daily basis, to win the event. I gained my composure after a few minutes and grabbed my stuff from the locker room, being sure to not meet anyone's eyes.
I made it to the bus as quietly as possible, utterly defeated. I truly thought that I would be placed in an amazing feud for the next few weeks or so and that I might get a chance at actually winning the Rumble. It was one of the only accolades missing from my impressive résumé, and I was disappointed to know the outcome of the pay-per-view after such a great match tonight.
Fortunately, the guys were nowhere to be seen on the bus, prompting me to let out a breath of relief. It didn't take me long to get to the back of the bus, where I knew Hannah and Matthew would be.
"Hey honey" I greeted, keeping my voice level and void of emotion.
"Hey yourself, is everything okay? How did your meeting with them go?" she wondered, momentarily glancing down at our sleeping son.
I walked over to the bed, and took a seat next to her, brushing the back of my hand on our sleeping son's head.
"Oh, the meeting was fine. Where are the guys? I thought they were riding with us?" I asked, changing topics—for now.
"They decided to go out and celebrate the last RAW of the year, but don't worry…they promised to travel with us tomorrow" she said, letting out a laugh.
I smiled softly back at her and nodded. I wordlessly got off the bed and quickly got changed into sleep clothes, climbing back into bed with my wife.
"Sounds good honey, I'll take first feeding and changing if you want" I offered.
"Nah, it's fine. You've had a long and crazy day, I'll do it. I don't mind" she told me, kissing my cheek sweetly.
Rather than say anything, I simply just covered myself in the warmth of the comforter and tried to get some sleep, which of course was difficult as usual. I couldn't help but dwell on what I had learned about the Royal Rumble—I felt defeated and deflated by the choice of victor. I didn't want to divulge the information to my wife quite yet, preferring to mull it over by myself for a bit. I knew that when I told her, she would be nothing but supportive and feel sympathetic—which is not what I wanted right now. I didn't want her soft words and gentle touch—I was angry and I wanted to wallow in the self-pity for a little longer. I decided I would talk to my wife about the upcoming pay-per-view in a few days, considering tomorrow I had an important photo-shoot to do and I didn't want to be up all night discussing it with her. So I figured it was better to get some sleep and talk to her about it when I was thinking more rationally.
After waking up even earlier than usual, and leaving a note for Hannah, I made my way to the gym. It was barely light out and the work out room was silent, making it the perfect opportunity for me to let out my frustration and clear my head. A few hours later I was heading into the canteen after freshening up, just in time to grab a handful of cereal off of Matthew's high chair.
"Hey, that was for your son!" my wife exclaimed, chuckling as she replaced the breakfast food.
I smiled and nodded, "I know, but he didn't really put up much of a fight. It was like stealing food from a baby" I replied with a laugh.
"You just wait, one day this kid is going to give all of us a run for our money" Edge proclaimed, joining the rest of the gang at our usual table.
"I second that statement. We have the future best in the world in our presence" Jeff stated, ruffling the dark hair of his godson.
"He's probably half as good as his father is right now" Randy suggested, peering over his morning cup of coffee.
"Well that makes sense because his father is pretty darn great" my wife retorted, inching deeper into my side as she continued to feed the baby.
"Enough inflating Punk's ego—isn't that what the photo-shoot today is for?" Jeff wondered.
"It is for the cover of WWE magazine" I half-gloated, a genuine smile gracing my face.
"Speaking of, aren't you supposed to be heading over to the shoot like now?" Edge inquired, munching happily on a muffin, his mouth stuffed as usual.
I nodded and after saying goodbye to my family, I headed over to the shoot. It was a rather straightforward cover; I was in my ring trunks and began to use the poses in my arsenal which wasn't difficult considering how long I had been doing promotions for the company. All of a sudden, the photographer called cut on the shoot and I stopped mid-pose, confused at his interruption.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, but something's missing. I don't know what it is, but something's not quite right" he explained.
I was dumb-founded for a moment—what the hell did he mean? Just as the photographer looked like he was about to give up and throw in the towel, a familiar face made an appearance. My black pitbull decided to hop into the shot, and as one of the handlers moved to remove him, the camera guy began snapping shots of the two of us together.
"That's perfect. Keep the dog in the shot—they're absolutely killing it together" the photographer announced, taking picture after picture.
Rocky was currently standing up very straight—with an almost regal quality about him. He clearly loved all the attention and I couldn't help but smile in response. There were a few shots of him looking very intimidating with his chest puffed out and his head up, and they looked absolutely incredible.
"Punk, stand next to Rocky with your arms crossed and smirk. Yes, just like that…perfect. We're done, we got the shot" the photographer announced, and I moved to pet the pitbull for his good work.
"Good job boy, good job Rocky. Let's go get you a treat boy" I told him, and he trailed behind me as we walked to the tour bus.
I moved to open the door of the bus, and I was met with an unusual sight—my wife was singing very loudly with the three idiots to something on the television and Matthew was laughing and clapping along to the song.
"Well, what do we have here? A repeat of New Year's Eve, perhaps?" I teased as Rocky and I entered the bus, effectively putting a stop to Hannah and Randy's karaoke showdown.
Hannah and I had decided to split our New Year's Eve celebration plans into two parts—we would spend one half with the roster and all of our friends and then go and visit her parents and family separately. Considering we were going to be in Virginia for the next few events with the company, Hannah's parents and sister had flown out to celebrate the New Year with us. After hearing that they had landed safely and were relaxing at the hotel, my wife was able to do one of the things she does best—start worrying and rushing around like a crazy person (her words, not mine). The entire roster was going to ring in the upcoming year as the big, insane family we were and exchange belated Secret Santa gifts; we had chosen names out of a hat at the last pay-per-view and now it was time to finally to give them. Naturally with a large and important party on the horizon, my wife was panicking.
"So when are you guys picking up the booze and balloons? The appetizers are supposed to be coming around seven-ish and I already sent the girls out to get the cake and dessert. Babe, are you listening?" my wife asked me, snapping her fingers to get my attention.
I shook off my momentary confusion and nodded in her direction. "Yeah, sorry. I heard you—need alcohol and balloons. Helium or regular? Remember what happened the last time we got helium balloons and decided to add booze to the mix."
The last occasion that featured helium decorations and liquor had resulted in Randy and Edge on the verge of getting helium poisoning from inhaling too much of it. The guys had thought it would be a great idea to do impressions with their voices at much higher pitches, earning laughs from everyone until everything started to go south—fast. They became lightheaded and dizzy and on the brink of being sick; we then learned that any more helium and they would have most likely had brain damage—which was something neither of them could risk.
"Yeah let's not have another set of airheads on our hands tonight" Hannah decided with a laugh, recalling the memory.
"Good choice, I'll go out with the guys now and get the supplies for the party."
Hours later and the party space we had rented was decorated and the countdown to 2014 was upon us. The entire roster had shown up, everyone dressed to the nines and excited to usher in the New Year as a group. After we all had a chance to talk and mingle for a bit, it was time to exchange our Secret Santa gifts. Naturally with this bunch, a lot of the presents were gag-gifts, making it all the more fun to open them in front of the large group.
One of my absolute favorite moments of the night came unexpectedly from the Rated 'R' Canadian, after he made a hilarious accident. He had made the unfortunate mistake of adding Matthew's milk to his coffee, spitting it out immediately once realizing the difference in taste.
"Han, are you sure this milk is good still? It tastes different" he informed my petite wife, looking over to her expectantly.
She furrowed her brow and took the cup out of his hand, sniffing to see if it had expired. Her face immediately broke out into a smile and within seconds she was clutching her side chuckling.
"I don't get what's so funny about the milk going bad" Randy stated with a confused look.
"Well that's because it's breast milk" Hannah told him between fits of laughter.
Edge's eyes went wide and his eyebrows shot up so high, almost becoming part of his hairline. The entire room then erupted in amusement at Edge's mistake, the Canadian turning bright red. Hannah was nearly peeing herself laughing, and after a few moments her breathing finally returned to normal.
"Gosh that was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Sorry Edgy" she sort of apologized, clapping the tall man on the shoulder.
After the milk fiasco and some more mingling, Hannah and I decided to leave the party and go and spend time with the other part of our family. Midnight was approaching and her family really wanted to see Matthew before the year was over.
"To a fun and crazy year filled with ups, downs and more love that I could ever imagine" my wife toasted, raising her glass of cider before clinking it against those of everyone else as the countdown to the New Year began.
And with Matthew in my arms fast asleep and my wife beaming in my direction, I knew that the next year was going to bring something incredible.
A few hours into the next year later and Hannah and I were finally able to make it back to our bus, both of us wiped out from celebrating all night.
"Gosh all I want to do right now is take off these heels and this dress and hop into bed" she told me as we approached the door to the bus.
"Is that an invitation?"
"It might be" she replied coyly, causing me to grin in response.
We were stopped in our tracks however, and the previous silence had been permeated by some very off-key singing, which seemed to be coming from inside the bus. My wife and I exchanged confused looks and decided to enter, both wary of what we might find. Not knowing what to expect, I handed the baby carrier to my wife and entered the bus first.
On the bus making a ruckus had been the three idiots—Randy, Edge and Jeff, all three men still carrying on the New Year's celebrations well into the morning. The walls of the bus were covered haphazardly with some of the decorations from the party room and snacks littered the floor. There were streamers and glitter on just about every surface and multiple empty bottles of booze lying around. The guys were obviously wasted out of their minds, the evidence reeking from their pores. It was clear that they had had a good time partying and all looked a little worse for wear—each of the men donning one of the colorful party hats.
"Hey guys, having fun?" I wondered sarcastically, suppressing a growl at their actions.
"Punky…you're just in time for the party. We were just going to start raising the roof" Edge slurred, a drunken smile painted on his companions' faces.
"Yeah, let's raise the roof and the ceiling and the floor" Randy suggested dumbly, staggering as he stepped towards me.
I stepped in front of Hannah and the baby, not wanting the three inebriated idiots to harm my family.
"There will be no raising the roof or the ceiling or anything. You guys are going to get the hell off our bus and go sober up. And you bet your asses you guys will be cleaning this bus tomorrow morning" I demanded, none of the guys looking at me.
"Okay guys, time to head out now" my wife told them sternly.
"Time to stand on the table and drink champagne? Okay!" Jeff chirped, moving to step on the couch.
I was quick to stop him in his tracks, preventing him from making any more messes.
"No, now all of you guys out! We're tired and we have to put the baby to bed" Hannah stated, getting more agitated.
"Don't stop believing…don't stop livin' on a prayer. Don't stop…singer in a smoky room…don't stop because baby got back…so just beat it…just beat it" the guys all sang, a mish mosh of famous songs.
"Don't stop believing…" Randy crooned, as I pushed all three guys out the door.
"No, Randal. Just stop believing you can sing. Go sober up you morons!" I half-shouted as I closed the door to the bus, laughing to myself at their antics.
The bus was in complete disarray and even the gingerbread house Randy had beautifully constructed for the party had been destroyed in the guys' drunken states. The mess was a problem for another day and I wanted nothing more than to just pass out in bed. The guys did eventually clean themselves and the bus up, and Hannah and I took joy in watching their discomfort.
"Haha Punk, very funny. I still think I'm a little hung over from that night" Jeff complained, clutching his temples in agony.
"That was days ago, you guys are fine" my wife supplied, not exactly brimming with sympathy.
"I don't know what was more exhausting or difficult—drunken limbo or cleaning the entire bus the next day" Randy stated, shuddering at the memory.
"Definitely the cleaning—every time I got a whiff of the Mr. Clean I started to dry heave" Edge stated, earning a laugh from Hannah and I.
We spent the next few days traveling and hanging out with the guys on the bus and I was working both RAW and Smackdown before the pay-per-view in a few weeks. I still hadn't told Hannah the less-than good news and I was dreading it. She was currently with the divas in their locker room, enjoying some girl time away from the guys and Matthew and I.
"Hey man, can I ask you a question?" I directed to Randy, and he nodded at me.
I motioned for us to take two empty seats in the canteen and he waited for my inquiry.
"Is everything okay Punk? You look nervous" he observed, and unfortunately he was correct.
"Yeah, everything's okay. I was just wondering if maybe you and the guys watch Matthew for a little bit tonight. Hannah and I really need some alone time and it would be great if you and the guys could babysit."
I swear his face lit up like I had just told him he had won the lottery.
"Of course we'll watch him. He loves us! He's such a good little guy and he's even warmed up to Edge. And considering he's like six months old, that's pretty good—it usually takes people years to get used to Edge" he declared, causing me to chuckle and agree.
"So you guys can watch him for a few hours? Just stay on the bus and keep him alive. And don't make too much of a mess, alright?"
"It will be fine. And I have a feeling you and the Mrs. are going to be dirty enough tonight for all of us" he supplied with a smirk before leaving the table.
He was half way out of the canteen before I could correct him; now that the guys were scheduled for baby duty tonight, I had to make sure my wife was on board with the idea.
"Is there any special occasion or something?" she wondered when I told her the idea.
I mustered my most innocent looking face and lied.
"Not at all, just an old married couple having a nice date out" I joked, earning a smile.
"Sounds good to me, but for the record—you're the old one in this relationship, I am still young and desirable" she taunted in a sing-song voice that was more beautiful than any music.
I laughed at her declaration and instantly scooped her into my embrace, ghosting my hands up and down her sides. I felt her shudder from my touch and I smirked down at her.
"I'm not old babe. I'm just wise from a lot of experience."
She grinned and agreed, prompting me to lean down and kiss her.
"I'll show you just how experienced I am tonight" I whispered huskily in her ear.
"You better" she replied with an expression full of challenge and lust.
Leaving Matthew with the guys was getting easier as he got older, and my wife was suffering from less separation anxiety, however, we still thoroughly informed the men about every detail pertaining to our son's care before leaving for our date.
"So do you really expect for me to think there's no reason for this date?" Hannah wondered, a smile playing on her lips.
"I can't take my wife out for a nice dinner without any ulterior motives?" I questioned back, hearing her laugh in response.
"You can—it's just not usually the case" she replied as we entered the restaurant.
Dinner was going so well and even though I was having a great time alone with my wife, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling I had. I knew that I had to tell her about the Rumble—not because she was going to be upset by the news, but because I was and I needed to vent to her about it. The meal came and went and before I could even utter a word about the pay-per-view we had polished off our desserts and we were walking lazily down the lit street, enjoying each other's company.
"That was really great honey. We definitely don't do that often enough."
I couldn't help but agree. "You're right, we should go out more. And I should absolutely do this more" I informed her before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.
We broke apart after getting caught up in the moment.
"Do you want to continue this on the bus?" she wondered, her chocolate covered eyes almost black with desire.
As desperately as I wanted to go back on the bus for some more enjoyable activities, I knew I had to divulge the real reason for our date.
"I really, really, really want to say yes, but I can't. I need to talk to you about something that's important—something that's been bothering me for a little bit."
I saw her face harden and her body went stiff. A shiver ran through her motionless body and I shrugged off my coat and slipped it on her shoulders. She moved slightly, relishing in the extra warmth and we took a seat together on a secluded bench.
"Punk, what are you talking about? What's going on?"
"Before you get all nervous and worked up, nothing horrible has happened. We're fine and I promise everything's going to be alright."
She opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it and let me continue.
"So when Hunter called me into his office, he gave me some less than pleasant news. I'm not losing my job, which is great, but I'm not thrilled about my current standing in the company."
Hannah nodded her head for me to continue and I went on rambling.
"Well they told me that I wasn't going to win the Rumble this year—and I don't even know why I thought I was going to…but to be told flat-out that I wasn't going to be victorious was crushing."
She placed a small hand on top of mine and gave me a tiny smile.
"They said that they wanted to tell me in person that they were bringing a part-timer back on the roster to win. And I was so pissed—I lost it. How can they pick someone who isn't even fighting full time, someone who isn't working hard every single damn week to win one of the biggest fights of the entire year? It's just not fair—we all bust our asses every day and then someone else gets to just waltz in and shit on all of it" I spat, attempting to keep my anger at bay.
"Punk, I'm really sorry. You're right—it's not fair at all. You and all of the guys and divas on the roster work so incredible hard to put on great performances on a weekly basis and to pick someone who isn't at the same caliber is disheartening" Hannah responded in a soft voice, trying to calm me down.
Except it wasn't working; I knew she would take the approach of sympathy and understanding—it's just who she was. And while normally it would help settle me, it only incited me.
"No, it's not disheartening. It's fucking demoralizing. I go out every night and practically kill myself for the enjoyment of millions of people around the damn world and I get picked over—again! I've spent my entire effing career get overlooked and overshadowed by guys who aren't even fit to wrestle in the same ring as me" I shouted, hate dripping from every word.
Hannah's face was blank of emotion, and I knew she was trying to mask her feelings from me.
"Babe, I know you're upset right now, but there's no reason to scream. Let's try to talk about it rationally" she attempted, placing her hands on my shoulders with the desire to soothe wasn't working and I didn't want to be settled or treated like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
"I'm not a toddler, Hannah. You can't put me in time-out!"
"You're not a toddler—you're just a stubborn ass. I'm trying to help you and instead you're being a jerk to me. Don't take your anger out on me, Punk. I'm not doing this" she stated simply as she started to walk away from me.
"We're not done here. You don't get to call me stubborn and then walk away acting the same way."
She turned around quickly and it was evident that she wasn't happy by my choice of words. Her eyes narrowed and her hands flew to her hips.
"I am not being stubborn. I just don't want to fight with my husband when he's clearly blinded by his own stupidity. You may be a fighter Punk, but I am not your fucking punching bag!" she screamed back at me, her voice rising with every word.
"I never asked you to be! I never asked for any of this!"
"And you think I did? You think this is what I want to be doing right now? Newsflash—it isn't. But because you're so damn angry right now, this is what we're doing. This is what you get, are you happy?" she spat back, her eyes cold and at that moment, I knew my expression must have been similar to hers.
Her eyes were growing glassier by the second, threatening to spill over with tears. Her jaw was set in a hard line and she was trying to quell the quiver of her chin—which I knew was a prelude to the cries she was attempting to keep at bay.
I moved closer to her, a softer expression etched onto my face. She stepped back as I approached her, and I could feel the almost electric energy radiating between us. The air was a combination of frigid air, a tangible sadness and a small bit of residual anger. I wasn't mad or upset with my wife and I knew that I was in the wrong, but it was my hurt pride that had gotten the better of me.
I lifted her chin so she was looking into my eyes and a few tears fell from her face.
"Punk…" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
I simply closed the gap between us and crushed my lips to hers, hoping she could feel just how sorry I was for my outburst. Our previously negatively charged passion had erupted into one of lust and desire and the need for the two of us to just be connected in every way possible. As our kisses began to grow frantic and sloppy, we both moved together towards our car and continued to pour our apologies into one another as we shed clothes in the back seat. And by the end of the night, we had both thoroughly said sorry for our behavior and heated words.
Hannah's POV
Tonight was an incredibly important night for two members of our family—prior to the pay-per-view, there was going to be two magazine cover reveals, both starring Punk. And while he was the star of the WWE cover, Rocky was the real focus of the other cover. A canine magazine had seen pictures of Rocky and Punk from my husband's WWE cover and after seeing how and inquiring more about our pitbull and how great he was with our family—especially with Matthew, a photo-shoot was set up. Rocky was set to be the cover star of the magazine and because of our busy touring schedule; we had to do the cover on the road.
So during one of our longer stops on tour, a set of photographers from the magazine arrived to do the shoot with Rocky. We were all trying to decide on the best place to capture the pictures, when all of a sudden, Rocky took off like the speed of light down the hall.
"Rocky! Rocky! Come back boy, come back you crazy pitbull" Punk called for the dog, chasing him down the hall.
At this point, we all chased the crazy pit-bull down the hallway, only to find him sitting in the middle of the wrestling ring, tail wagging, happy as can be. The camera crew, Punk and the guys and lastly Matthew and I made our way to the ring, everyone pausing for a moment to catch our breaths. Rocky let out an excited bark when he saw all of us approach the ring; Punk entered the ring and finally got a hold of the leash, keeping Rocky rooted in his place inside the ring.
"Call me crazy but I think this may be where he wants to have the pictures taken" my husband proposed to the confused faces of the camera crew.
"It's not crazy—actually it's brilliant. Yeah, let's get some shots of him posing in the ring" the photographer declared with a grin, gesturing to his crew to start setting up their equipment.
At this point, the majority of the roster had joined us ringside, all of the divas and superstars excited to witness Rocky's first official photo-shoot. The photographer began taking all different kinds of Rocky, looking every inch the perfect cute and cuddly yet fierce dog. Naturally he was decked out in a CM Punk dog collar, which only made my husband all the more proud of our pet.
Half-way through the shoot, Punk jumped into the ring and started posing with Rocky; we even got some shots of Rocky and Matthew alone, which were beyond adorable. My favorite though were the pictures of Rocky, Matthew and Punk all together, all of them beaming about being in the same ring together.
The photographer and Punk asked me if I wanted to hop in the shot, and after only a couple of photos, I retook my place with the divas—contrary to my husband and his friends, I wasn't exactly a fan of the spotlight.
Because the big Royal Rumble pay-per-view show was tonight, there was going to be a reveal of both covers—Punk's shoot for the cover of the official WWE magazine and then the one of Rocky for the canine magazine.
I was feeding Matthew a bottle and laughing with one of the guys about their latest antics when Punk remerged in the men's locker room, prompting us all to look at him.
"Is everything alright honey?"
He nodded his head and smiled widely.
"Yeah, everything's great. Vince just wanted me to tell everyone that they're going to reveal the magazine covers now, so everyone should make their way to the ring now" he relayed excitedly.
Eventually all the divas and superstars were assembled ringside and the heads of the company made their way down the ramp to the ring, intent on displaying the photos.
"As you all know, we're going to reveal the two covers of the magazines for the month. Punk is featured on our official cover of the WWE magazine for January and his pit-bull Rocky was asked to do a photo-shoot for a very prominent canine magazine. So we're going to show you guys what they look like, but first—our cover stars" Vince stated, motioning to the ramp that Punk and Rocky were descending.
The entire ring was surrounded by superstars and divas, all eager to see the big posters of the covers; Punk came down the ring with Rocky by his side, everyone cheering them on.
"I just wanted to thank all of you guys for coming to see our magazine covers. We're both really proud of them, and we're excited to see how they came out. So I guess without further ado, here's Rocky's cover."
There was a drum roll from all of the members of the roster and then the sheet covering the poster was pulled down. It revealed an amazing picture of Rocky standing tall and regal with his chest puffed out, and his head tilted slightly towards the camera, his official Punk collar standing out against his black roster and the guys and I immediately went nuts and began clapping at the sight of the great cover. Rocky also liked of the cover, letting out a few enthusiastic barks.
Punk patted him happily on the head and declared his approval.
"Wow that picture looks amazing. Damn, I have the best dog in the entire world—must take after me" he announced, earning chuckles and praise from all of our friends.
Vince then went on to mention that inside the magazine was a featured article about our pit-bull and how exceptionally well-behaved he was around such a tiny child. Rocky was essentially the perfect guard dog and we felt better as parents knowing that he would help in protecting our young son.
Now that we had seen Rocky's cover, it was time to unveil my husband's magazine cover. There was a drum roll once again and our friends instantly cheered and sang their praises for the picture. Punk looked amazing to say the least—his signature smirk was in place as he posed—not that I would have expected any less.
I turned to gauge his reaction and his face was priceless—he was grinning from ear to ear and I couldn't be prouder of him. I placed a loving hand on his shoulder and effortlessly glided our son into his tattooed forearms.
He looked up for a second and smiled once more before diverting his attention to the baby.
"Do you see that Matthew? Your Daddy is on the cover of a magazine—your Daddy's like a model" he joked, holding our son with one arm and pointing to the enormous cover photo splayed over the ring.
Matthew chuckled and cooed at his father, his pride clear.
I expressed my own approval of the cover, pecking my husband. "It looks awesome babe—you did well" I stated with a smile.
"Thanks honey—it's the perfect way to kick off the Royal Rumble tonight" he said, his smile faltering just a little around the edges.
After the excitement for the magazine covers wore off, everyone went back to hustling and bustling like they did before every PPV event—and the Rumble was one of the most important for the whole year. This wrestling show helped shaped the feuds and fights that would be on the next pay-per-views, including the most noteworthy of all—WrestleMania.
The Royal Rumble was one of my personal favorite PPVs during the year; the match starts off with two opponents facing each other and every ninety seconds, another competitor is added to the mix. The fun of this match is that the order at which the guys (and sometimes the divas) enter the ring is completely at random—they all 'drew' numbers beforehand and the line up isn't revealed prior to the match. The audience only knows who is about to enter the ring the second that superstar's music cuts.
The rumble is fast-paced and every man is fighting for himself, making it extremely enjoyable to watch. It was however, less pleasant to participate in. Punk had the unlucky first draw, which meant he would have to outlast every new superstar in order to be one of the last two men standing. During this match, alliances were usually formed in the most unlikely of places—often a group of the men try to band together to take out the biggest, immediate threat, and then they all turn on one another.
But before we could even begin the Rumble, I had to try to put Punk's mind at ease. As I bounced Matthew up and down on my knee to keep him content, I continued to watch my husband wear holes into the floor with his pacing.
"Babe, you're going to need to change your ring boots if you keep walking like that. Take a break, honey" I suggested gently.
He paused momentarily, as if to ponder the idea but thought better of it and resumed his fast-paced walking.
"You're going to tire yourself out before the match."
He looked up at me with a confused expression and shook his head in disagreement.
"Please, you and I both know that stamina isn't exactly a weak point of mine" he retorted, smirking for a second, then resuming pacing the length of the now-empty men's locker room.
I let out a sigh and switched Matthew to my other leg, continuing to bounce him, much to his delight.
"Not the point, Punk. I don't want you to get worked up before the pay-per-view. You know this is an important fight tonight."
"What does it matter? Why should I even care about tonight? I'm not going to win anyway. I'm going to be in the match almost the entire damn time, and then I'm going to get eliminated last friggin minute."
I opened my mouth to respond and then thought better of it. He wasn't wrong—he was going to get eliminated from the match at the worst time, and it was clear he wasn't taking it well.
"Babe, it's just one match. I mean it's important of course, but I don't want you to make yourself sick over it" I reasoned, cradling a smiley Matthew.
"You know it's not just one match or even the fact that I'm not going to win—it's because he's going to win the whole thing, when we all know he doesn't deserve to even be in the fight!"
Dave Batista was slated to win the entire Rumble, not even enduring the whole match. He would be featured in the second half of it, and would be named victorious. Obviously Punk hadn't let go of his blatant disgust over the idea.
"I know baby, but what can we do? You know that sometimes these things happen and unfortunately, you're no stranger to getting screwed by the politics of the company. You know that better than anyone. Sometimes the good guys don't always win—but it doesn't mean they aren't the best in the world" I replied with a soft smile, hoping that I could cheer him up.
"It doesn't matter now. I have to go out and act like I'm going to win a match I never even had the chance of coming out on top in anyway. It's whatever at this point—I'm fine. I'll meet you guys back here later" he responded in a low voice, eyes intent on the floor.
He didn't even say goodbye to me or our son, instead he just walked out defeated before the match even began. My heart broke for him as I heard his music cut and when he appeared on the top of the ramp, he plastered a fake smile on for the crowd and I could tell he was practically counting down the minutes until the night was over. Poor Punk, he deserves so much better than this, I thought as I saw him enter the ring for a match he definitely did not want to be a part of.
Punk's POV
Everything after I left Hannah and Matthew in the locker room was a complete and utter blur. I left the changing area and I couldn't even look my wife in the eye—that's how devastated I was feeling. I knew she was only trying to make me feel better about the situation but to me, there was no bright sides or positives. I was past the point of being bitter and angry, the rage had boiled away and all that was left was this gnawing hurt inside. I didn't tell Hannah but after hearing I wasn't going to win the match, I realized that the company had lost faith in me and my abilities, which is why I wasn't going to be victorious at the Rumble. The winner of the Rumble is guaranteed a WrestleMania match, and it was clear I wasn't going to be headlining that fight on the grandest stage of them all.
I went through the familiar motions of my opening and waited in the ring to see who my first opponent would be. Entrant number two was Seth Rollins and we squared off in the ring, thus beginning the Royal Rumble. Entrant after entrant made their way to the ring, and bodies were flying everywhere. They say that you need eyes on the back of your head during the Rumble because there is just that much going on in the ring at one time. It was chaos and insanity and I thrived on it. The momentum of this match was the only thing that was keeping me going—literally, I knew if I stopped moving, I would just give out entirely. I continued to battle my way through the match, avoiding elimination along the way.
The match's fifth entrant, Kane, thought he would repay me for getting rid of him earlier in the match and made a surprising reappearance ringside. Instantly I knew he would be sending me on my way to the locker room, and I braced myself for what would be a painful exit. Even though he had already been eliminated from the match when he came back to remove me, it was legal in this match and thus I was eliminated.
I moved on auto-pilot after that; I barely made my way up the ramp, and wordlessly accepted a towel from one of the stage handlers. I continued to keep my eyes focused on the ground, not exactly interested in conversing with anyone backstage. My body was basically humming with pain from the match and I winced when I opened the door to the locker room.
I was met with the concerned faces of my wife, Edge and Jeff (Randal was busy prepping for his match tonight) and I simply said nothing but walked over to where Matthew's baby carrier was placed. The guys took my hint (for once!) and left to give me some privacy with my family.
Despite the fact I was covered in post-match sweat and I was so exhausted and every part of my body ached, I reached into the carrier and took my son out. I placed his snoozing form on my chest, bridging the gap with part of the towel that hung from my shoulder. Hannah moved to take him from me, but once she saw my expression, she gave me a small nod in understanding.
She looked up at me with eyes full of sympathy and something that resembled pity and I couldn't help but look away from her. I could feel her gaze continue to wear holes in me, but I simply began walking the length of the locker room with Matthew cradled comfortably to my chest.
"Daddy loves you buddy, Daddy loves you so much. I love you so much and I don't know what I would do without you and your mother in my life. I love you so damn much and I'm so sorry" I told my sleeping baby, every word breaking my heart a little more.
"You're sorry?" Hannah wondered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, I'm sorry for giving you guys this kind of life. I'm always on the road and stressed and in pain and that's no life for our family. I don't know you've put up with this shit all these years, but it ends now. It stops now—it stops for him" I explained, running a hand up and down my son's back.
Hannah looked at me with a confused expression, but thought better of it.
"Let's go home honey, let's be a normal, happy family. Let's go home" I stated, a multitude of emotions whirling within me.
She simply nodded her head in agreement and the decision was final.
The road to WrestleMania was always a bumpy one with many twists and turns, however, this year it had evolved into more of a battle. And this fight been long and bloody, with many injuries and casualties—one of the most heartbreaking losses occurring when I decided to leave the WWE. The night after the Rumble, I told Vince and Hunter and Stephanie that I was going home—and I did. I went home to the best prize anyone could ever have, my loving wife and adorable son. Oh, and a pit-bull that absolutely adored me. What more did I need?