AN: In this Chapter John is finally added! Sorry for such the long wait! Oh yeah John's POV is included also.
Arriving Sunday night Ramira was a bundle of nerves. Knowing that she was actually going to make her Smackdown entrance on Tuesday when it was filmed. Smiling she pulled her Lancer into the parking lot of the New Orleans Hilton, finally a nice clean bed to sleep on Ramira thought.
Wearing a broad smile Ramira checked in and carried her two suitcases into the elevator and up three floors.
Settling into her miniscule room she threw herself down into the comfort of the queen size bed. Resting her eyes for a moment she heard a distinct pattern thumping from the next room over accompanied by sporadic moaning. Well I guess something don't change no matter where you are.
Looking down onto the street that ran parallel to the Hilton, Ramira noticed a small bar.
Feeling particularly thirsty she didn't bother to change out of her traveling clothes. Her ripped black jeans, Doc Martins, and ancient Green Day top were wrinkled from hours sitting in a car. She didn't care; she made her way down to the bar.
John's POV
John Cena was wasted, again. As soon as he had finished with Stacey he had rolled out of bed, gotten dressed, and gone for a drink.
Jesus I'm tired of this life. Tired of backpacking from place to place three hundred days a year, never staying in one place longer than to rumple the sheets with some fan.
Ordering several rounds of bourbon John began to drink away his unhappiness. Around his fifth or tenth shot a woman entered the bar.
Damn she's hot he thought abruptly. Her jeans had the expensive distressed treatment, jeans that looked like they were painted on her they were so tight.
Her t-shirt… "Green, green Tuesday," he murmured out loud he couldn't exactly see what the shirt said that well. Whatever the shirt said it made her chest stand out.
Her face was beautiful as well. From what he could tell she had almond eyes, a small mouth and high check bones. Her hair was a glamorous, blue black that was stick straight around her face.
As she moved to the back of the bar, John couldn't stop himself. He just had to reach out and touch her beautiful…
"Who the fuck are you to touch my ass," the girl yelled gaining almost the entire bar's attention.
"I'm John Cena baby come on you wanna have a roll with the champ," his words were slurring together at this point because of the amount of alcohol.
"No, I defiantly don't know where yourself has been. And from the looks of your getup I'd say in the ghettos of this town probably getting your 'freak' on. Fuckin poser," the girl spat.
"You're calling me a poser," he said angrily. He stood up only to miss his footing and collapse on the ground.
"Yeah I am and I don't think you are in any condition to refute the statement," she laughed angrily.
"Yeah well as soon as I get up I'll show you a thing or too about, about, about…" he started slurring his words together so much that Ramira lost track of what he was saying.
"Look buddy hur clearly drunk. I tink its about tham yous got outta hur," The bartender said in his clear bayou accent.
Ramira's POV
'I'll take him," Ramira volunteered whether she liked him or not he was a coworker and she wasn't about to leave a coworker behind, even if he was a lecher.
Dragging his sorry pimped out self up three flights of stairs; it finally occurred to her that she had no idea where he was staying.
Dammit I should have asked the fucker before he passed out on me. Using her card she swiped into her room. Opening up the bathroom she pulled Cena into the bathroom, sitting him in the shower stall she turned on the water at full blast, cold.
Unfortunately the only response she got out of him was a mumble and a few slurred curses. "Eh he'll still be there when I come back."
Walking into her room she ended up pushing all the furniture as close to the walls as she could. Pushing the mattress off the box springs, she then proceeded to spilt up the sheets and make John's bed on the mattress on the floor.
After finishing the small task she moved back to the bathroom and pulled him out of the shower. Taking off his jersey which no longer reeked of bourbon, but just was soaked with water she threw it into the corner. Taking off his shoes and socks she steadied him against the bathroom wall.
Taking a towel she toweled him off and walked him to bed. When he collapsed in bed she covered him up with towels knowing that his jeans would seep through the sheets make him cold. After finishing up using all the towels on him she brought over the trash can and placed it next to his head.
"Just don't throw up on the carpet," she said out loud. Although at this point John was fast asleep on his side.
Taking off her jeans and boots she tossed them on top of the dresser and curled up on top of the box springs.
Just the way to start my life in the WWE she thought.
