3 DAYS LATER
Rob Van Dam again found himself sauntering down an empty arena hallway, searching for a certain someone. He was, in a way, glad that the halls were empty. Had anyone seen him here, it would cause great speculation among the wrestlers. When he finally reached the door he was looking for, he stopped in front of it and knocked. Then, he pushed the door open and made his way inside.
"Rob Van Dam... what are you doing here?" Stephanie McMahon, the Smackdown general manager asked. She eyed Rob carefully, wondering just why he was standing in her office.
"Hey Stephanie," he called, closing the door behind him. "Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor." Her eyes still locked curiously on him, Stephanie sighed.
"Look, if you're here about switching to Smackdown, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. You're locked into your contract over on Raw, and I'm not allowed to snatch you up until..."
"Woah, what?" Rob asked, raising an eyebrow. "Steph, I don't want a contract. No offense, but I like it on Raw, even with that punk Bischoff as a boss. I just wanted to know if you'd be able to tell me where I can find John Cena."
Stephanie's head shot up at the mention of Cena's name. John had become one of the top Superstars on her show over the past few months, but as of late, she was worried about him. For the past few weeks, he just hadn't been himself. He had been quiet, reserved, and almost depressed-looking, and that certainly wasn't the personality of the John Cena she knew. Wondering if maybe RVD knew something about it, she sent him a questioning look.
"I'm sure I can find him for you, but let me ask you a question first. Why do you need to talk to him?" she asked.
"It's kind of personal, Steph. Let's just say that he and I have some business to take care of," Rob said flatly. Noting the seriousness in his almost always mellow tone, Stephanie frowned.
"Please Rob... I'm hoping you can tell me just why John's been acting so funny lately. He hasn't been himself, and his work is starting to suffer. I can't afford that, not when I'm striving to make Smackdown the best brand possible," she explained, pleading to him with her eyes.
"Well, to be honest, I'm not that sure. But I do know that it has something to do with Trish, and I..."
"Stratus?" Stephanie interrupted, her brow raising curiously. Rob nodded. "Are you sure? I thought they hated each other."
"So did I. I mean, it was news to me when Trish brought it to my attention Monday, but apparently there's something going on with the two of them. And the something is bugging the hell out of Trish. Her work has been suffering lately as well," he noted.
"Wow... that would explain it," she said, her eyes widening at the sudden revelation. No wonder John had been walking around like a love-sick puppy dog for the last few weeks... he *was* one. When Rob sent her a confused look, she elaborated. "For the longest time now he's just looked so empty, like he was missing something. I thought maybe it'd be a woman, but *never* in my wildest dreams would I imagine it being Trish. Funny how things work out."
"Yeah, I guess it is... look, Steph, Bischoff will flip if word gets to him that I'm here. Could you just get me to Cena, please?" he requested, glancing around almost nervously. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of what Eric would do to him, but afraid of what he could get someone *else* to do. Nodding, Stephanie got up from her desk, heading over to the door.
"All the way down the hall, last door on the left," she said, opening the door and gesturing with her pen. "He should be alone."
"Alright, thanks a lot Stephanie," Rob said, patting the young woman on the shoulder.
* * * *
John Cena sat in his locker room, lacing up his boot. He paused halfway through, his mind drifting for what had to be the millionth time that week. He couldn't believe how fucked up his love life was right now. He had vowed to himself at the beginning of his career that he would *never* let a coworker get to him like Trish was now. So much for that idea. Now more than ever, he couldn't get the blonde woman off his mind. The more he sat and thought about it, the more silly he found the way he had acted towards Trish up until recently. For well over a year he had pretended to hate her, all for the sake of keeping his promise to himself. It got to a point where he didn't want to keep it anymore. He could deny it no longer...
He was in love with Trish Stratus.
As wrong as he knew it was, he blamed the whole mess in its entirety on Stacy Keibler. He told her time and time again not to set them up, that it was a disaster in the making, but the leggy blonde refused to listen. She was so damn insistent on the two of them getting together. He really hated her right now...
Who was he kidding? The only person in the world that he truly hated right now was himself. He hated himself for being mad at Stacy, when all she was trying to do was help him. He hated himself for going along with her plan. Most of all, though, he hated himself for leaving Trish in her hotel room the other night. He had the perfect chance to not only tell Trish, but *show* her how he felt, and he passed it up. He choked, and the opportunity of his lifetime slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. As much as he hated to admit it, he was scared. He had never had such intense feelings for *any* woman before, let alone one he knew very well might return them. He sighed wistfully, resting back in his seat and closing his eyes, rubbing them tiredly. If only he could just disappear...
"Excuse me..."
The sound of a throat clearing, followed by those words caused John to look up, his eyes narrowing in surprise as he saw RVD standing in the doorway of the locker room.
"What do you want?" he asked. He hadn't meant for the question to come out so coldly, but he didn't really know what else to say? What could you say to a man you knew hated you and were most certainly not expecting to see?
"I wanted to have a talk with you," Rob said, inviting himself in, closing the door behind him, and taking a seat across from the younger man. "Look, before you get all jumpy, I'm not here to attack you."
"Good..." John replied, still a little skeptical.
"But, if I don't get the answer I want, that could very well be arranged," he said, his tone lowering dangerously. "Just know that you're on thin ice with me, pal."
"I got that much," John muttered. At this point, he wasn't even up for arguing with anyone anymore. His spark was out. "What do you want to talk to me about?"
"I'm sure you already know, but it's Trish," Rob said, noticing the way John's eyes softened even more at the mention of her name. "She's really upset about whatever it is that happened between you to. *Real* upset. She's been sulking about for the last week, and I hate seeing her like that."
"Look, I told Stacy to apologize for me, but I just..."
"Yeah, I'm sure she did too John, but Trish needs to hear it from you," he explained, his voice raising slightly. Then, he reminded himself that he didn't want anyone to know he was there, so he calmed himself down before continuing. "Look dude, for God only knows what reason, Trish has feelings for you. Do you have the same for her?"
"I... well... yes," he admitted, his eyes transfixing on the floor. Rob nodded, crossing his arms in front of him.
"Alright... then why the hell would you do what you did?" he asked. He hated that he still had no clue just what it *was* that John did, but at this point, he didn't care. He just wanted it fixed.
"Look, you wouldn't understand, alright? I know you and Trish are close, but that's between me and her, and if you got a problem with it..."
"Listen you little prick," Rob said, jumping up and grabbing John by his throwback. "You know how calm I normally am, so I'm sure you can only *imagine* how pissed off I have to be to make me act like this. It just so happens that I *do* have a problem with it, and *you* are going to make it right."
"Alright, alright," John replied, glancing up at Van Dam with wide eyes as he loosened himself from his grasp. "Chill, chill... I'll talk to her."
Letting go of him, Rob turned a way, the deep scowl still present on his face. He headed to the door in a huff, only semi-satisfied with the way their conversation had gone. When he reached the door, he turned back to John, locking eyes with him in an intense stare.
"You have my personal invitation to come to Unforgiven, our next pay-per-view. You have till then to make this mess with Trish right. I better see you there, and I better see Trish happy, or your ass is mine."
I'm so glad ya'll still are enjoying this! I can't tell you how happy I am with all the reviews. Please keep them coming!