So, this has been proven a lot harder to write than I originally anticipated. I like the idea behind it, now if I could just get momentum!

That being said, thank you guys for taking the time to read this. I love writing, and I try my hardest to write well. As I've grown older, my style has changed quite a bit from my first stories...and now, I write with much darker themes. So I do apologize if anything I write offends anyone, and I do have plans to make this a pretty dark story.

I'm going to try to give this a go again, thanks for the response from the last chapter. :) I love reading guesses about who the mystery man is. And indeed, those who have said "hmm, it must not be Del Rio" you are right, it isn't. I think Paige has lost her mind IRL...like yeah he's handsome, but I don't see what in the world they could have in common. Whatever, love is love. But because I hate that pairing, I'm going to pretend it doesn't exist. You're welcome.


"Damn, you'd better slow your roll," Renee Young slid beside Paige at an empty bar stool, where the raven-haired diva leaned on her elbow, her long hair covering her face. She had been swirling her drink with her black straw, though now, mostly ice was left in her glass. Three empty glasses were at the edge of the bar, yet to be collected by the busy barback at the club everyone had congregated to after the show.

Paige didn't look up, still mindlessly watching the ice roll against the fogged glass with each twirl of her wrist. She ignored Renee, not interested in hearing the little "we're all worried about you" talk that producers, family, and friends alike had sputtered her way. Rather than shift her attention to more positive things, Paige could see little to be bright and shiny about; in fact, all she saw right now was a pit that she was falling into, and everytime she tried to crawl out of it, she'd fall just a little bit deeper. Right now, there didn't seem to be a way out. It was like she was being swallowed, suffocating in the darkness.

Wasn't she too young to feel this hopeless? She wasn't sure. She was both upset and angry at herself for the way her career had gone from a boom to a bust in just a few short months. Sadly, the same could be said about her emotional state. Her string of boyfriends and one-night stands was proof that she was a wreck.

"Do you need another?" Renee finally asked gently, her hand on Paige's shoulder, which caused her to jump. She was actually surprised at how soft and quiet the cool blonde's tone was, given the situation. Renee was in pretty tight with Nikki and Brie, who had both given Paige "the talk", and therefore, the youngest Total Divas star was surprised that Renee hadn't been the next to lay it on thick. "I know that latest episode was a big toll on your head. I understand it. And I know things haven't progressed for you in the direction you hope for. Don't get me wrong, drinking away your sorrows probably won't make all the crud in your life turn to glitter...but I can understand if that's what you want to do right now."

Damn, Renee was such a sweetheart. Paige had no choice but to acknowledge her at this point. She raised her eyes to hers, and although the blonde appeared tired, she still managed to look fantastic. Paige, on the other hand, knew she looked like a homeless woman. She hadn't reapplied her makeup from earlier, and she was so lazy showering that it was possible the conditioner hadn't all rinsed out properly, giving off a surely grease-looking effect.

But who did she have to impress?

"I don't understand why I couldn't have been part of the Attitude Era. If I were older, I could be feuding with the likes of Sable, or Chyna. DX would be running the show," Paige rambled, allowing her previous drinks to give her motormouth. It was probable that she wasn't making sense. She chose to continue anyway.

"In that era, I would have been successful. But in this one, I feel like the creative team is stifling me. Afraid to let me do my thing, be the dark soul that I already am. I don't have that pretty, marketable face. I just miss what it was like to be myself, before WWE told me who I was."

Renee rubbed Paige's shoulder gingerly, sympathy quickly washing over her face. "First off, you are wrong on the pretty and marketable thing. I know that's just whiskey talking. You're beautiful-striking, I would say-and different. Isn't your difference from the other girls what got you noticed in the first place? I think what's holding you back is your negativity. I don't personally know, but I can see, how hard it is for the women to constantly be clawing for the top when there's only one title. You might've taken the backseat for now, but I think a few days off and maybe a new storyline could really shake things up for you."

Paige sneered. "I've been hoping for a new gimmick for awhile. I'd love to work alongside some of the superstars, but the writers have completely ignored my e-mails and phone calls. I've overheard a few women say the uppers are trying to move away from the women ring valets and shit, which is understandable, but I don't want to watch everyone else do amazing things while I fuck matches up. Sure, my head's not always clear, but if I had a reason to turn up to work, maybe I would."

"You know what you should do, then? Take a break for awhile. Work on you. Total Divas won't be taping again for a couple months, so you'll have time to figure out your head. Because if you keep running to belly up to the bar after shows, you're going to end up just like Charlotte's daddy-broke, unhappy, and alone."

"Already got two of 'em covered, what's wrong with all three?" Paige mocked, getting up from her stool. "I appreciate our little talk, Renee, I really do. But you've got it made in the shade. So I really don't need to hear it from you, too."

"I'm only trying to help, sweetie," Renee assured, concern now apparent in her tone. "The last thing I want is for you to get suspended, or even sent back down to NXT because you can't contain your behavior."

Paige waved her hand in the other woman's direction, as if trying to physically deflect her words. "I'll be perfectly fine. I always am."

With that, she wobbled her way towards the door, unsure of whether she was even walking in a straight line. She didn't think so: everything seemed to be tilting...how much did she drink, again?

Making her way towards her hotel, maybe, she took a sharp turn towards a darkened road that didn't seem to have any streetlamps. Now, she wasn't sure where she was or how she got there. She turned in all directions, hoping she recognized anything in her drunken state. All she wanted to do was find her room, crawl under the blankets, and pretend that she didn't exist.

"Hey, kitty, I've got a car. I can give you a ride home," said a gravelly voice so close to Paige's ear, her skin began to crawl. She turned to see a bum-ass looking dude, a guy she'd never seen before in her life. He reeked of menthol cigarettes, beer, and possibly vomit.

"That's lovely. I can give you a ride straight to the hospital if you come near me again," Paige warned, ready to break out her real fighting skills she'd learned back when she worked at a bar.

The man took another step towards her, now clearly baffled as to why she would turn down his fantastic offer. His beady eyes flitted back and forth, as if watching the surroundings carefully before he made his next move...

"How about I rephrase that. You will get in my car, and I'll take you wherever I damn well please," he whispered hoarsely, and Paige noticed he had a big black spot on his front tooth...probably decay. She idly wondered if he was on drugs, too; which could explain his pupils being dilated, and why he appeared to be sweating like a pig at the deli market.

"How about you step back, and fuck off?" she heard herself say, drawing closer to the man. Her fists were raised, and he seemed to be intimidated by the fact that she wasn't going to back down. He looked around quickly again, before she saw him make a swift move under the ratty leather jacket he wore. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gleam of a knife.

"I'd re-think that, if I were you," she stated, not letting her voice waver. She knew that they were alone, and the chance of anyone hearing her yell was pretty minimal. But she wasn't a wuss, and she damn well wasn't going to let this jackass flash a knife at her without a fight.

Aggravated, the man took another step towards her, holding the knife against his thumb.

"You know, I don't like that mouth of yours," he growled, circling around her. "It's gonna get you into some trouble. I've got something that can make it stay shut for awhile, though," he gave a creepy smile as he began to unzip his jeans, exposing fleshy in one quick jerk of the zipper. Paige looked up, disgusted.

"On your knees, you little slut," he now had the knife just a few inches from her, his dick standing erect between the two of them.

"Hey, buddy!" called someone in the distance, and the man abruptly turned, shaken that someone else was around. Paige thanked her lucky stars, though she was sure she probably could've taken this sad excuse of a man down herself. She couldn't quite see who the knight in shining armor was, but the creep quickly folded himself back into his jeans.

"Hey, you'd better leave her alone!" called the person. "I'd get the fuck out of here, and quick!"

"Yeah, or what?" the man called back, now holding his knife up by Paige's face.

Now, Paige could see who had found them. It was Dean Ambrose, Renee's lunatic boyfriend. She probably sent him to follow Paige to make sure she got home safely after their pathetic little heart-to-heart. Though she was grateful that she had some backup, she couldn't help but to feel a little sour to have Dean following her like a little watchdog.

Thanks, Renee, but no thanks.

Suddenly, Paige was bumped on to her ass, watching as Dean threw fists left and right, making a complete mess of the guy's face. Blood began to trickle on to the pavement, and she was certain that the assailant had a broken nose. His face and hair matted in blood, the guy finally put up his hands in defeat.

"If you ever try that shit on anyone, let alone my friend, just remember my fucking face!" Dean exclaimed, his eyes flashing wildly. Paige kind of saw a scary side to him in that moment, like an inner demon of sorts. It was like he was possessed, mauling the guy like a mama bear protecting its cub.

Finally, the guy put his hands down, and his breathing slowed. He was still breathing, alive but definitely unconscious.

Dean got up from the cool, bloodsplattered ground, eyeing Paige suspiciously.

"First, are you okay?" he asked, his voice changed significantly since the vile sight she'd just witnessed.

"I'm fine. I could've taken him."

"Yeah, bullshit. Second of all, what the fuck are you thinking, trying to walk to the hotel room at midnight? Do you even have any idea where you are?"

"I'm a big girl, Mox," she called him by his former ring name, one that Dean hated, but it gave her pleasure in doing so whenever he'd ticked her off. It was nice to see him shudder. He claimed it reminded him of some pretty dark days of his, and maybe that's why she sadistically enjoyed tormenting him like that. It was easy to grin when someone felt just as shitty as you did.

"Yeah, I can tell. You know, you walked completely opposite the way of the hotel, right? Good thing Renee was watching you leave, and she begged me to follow. You could've been a sliced up pile of hepatitis if it weren't for me!"

"Yeah, thanks for that," Paige shrugged. "Guess I've gotta go live another day, huh?"

Dean's expression changed yet again, now looking sincere as he faced the small woman.

"Paige, listen. You and I are similar. We don't like the flashy shit that goes along with this job. We don't like the questions, the cameras, the parties. Fuck, I don't know how you've been able to stick around with Total Divas for as long as you have. At any rate, my point's the same. We like to be left alone. My in-ring persona is slowly climbing to be what it ought to be, but it's definitely been stifled by the writers. And I'm willing to bet you feel the same way. Before Renee came along, I was sleeping with more women than I ever thought imaginable because...well, I could. But none of that made me feel any better."

"Save your sob story, Ambrose," Paige groaned. "Really. Thanks for making sure I didn't die. I appreciate it."

"Quit your bullshit, Paige. You've got to get yourself out of this mindset, or you're going to wind up unemployed."

"Maybe that won't be so bad."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Listen, all I'm trying to say is that you need to stop putting yourself in danger. Drinking as much as you have been, partying as much as you did...I would hate to see you start doing anything else. All of that can ruin you."

Paige began walking, and Dean was right on her heels. She was trying to ignore him the best she could.

"I've already been ruined," she muttered.


"I'm going to be leaving for awhile," he said quietly, his hand lightly stroking Paige's hair. She looked up, her eyes immediately filling with tears.

"Leaving? Where?"

"Well, P, you know I've only been helping out here in NXT for Hunter. Run some classes, help some of the guys out. It was never my intention to stay as long as I have."

Paige got off from the bed abruptly, her hands shielding her naked body. Her lip quivered, amazed that he would abandon her so easily.

"But you'll be back soon, right?" she questioned, sounding young and hopeful, even to her own ears.

"Maybe," he admitted, letting his own naked body lay freely against the hotel bed. Fuck, he was so damn sexy. Even if he was kind of old for her. The tan of his skin was beautiful against the white sheets, and the inner sexpot of Paige seemingly elbowed her to get her ass back in bed with him. So, she did; letting her naked body mold against his once again, driving out the tears and the sadness that he'd just dropped on her.

"And I think," he said quietly, "Once I'm gone...and whether or not I come back to help again...this thing we've got going on is going to need to end. I don't see how dragging it out to be any more than what it is will benefit either of us."

Paige looked up at him, raising her eyebrow. "And what exactly is this?" she questioned, hiding the hurt in her voice, careful not to let her voice crack. She still felt her emotions teetering, and one wrong word might cause a whole meltdown.

"This is..." but the man didn't finish, as Paige cut him off by giving him sweet, fluttery little kisses against his hard body. One rule he had-he would not kiss her on the lips. He claimed it was too personal, and it would make her think their relationship meant more than it did. Paige had a hard time understanding that concept, especially since he had slept with her time and time again like it was no big deal.

"Paige," he groaned, but she put a finger up to his lips. "Let me make this worth it for you," she said back, diving underneath the sheets to give those same fluttery kisses to other places, as well.

They slept together three times that night, and both of them knew it was likely to be the last time they'd ever be able to move their bodies against one another again, to feel the other person's heartbeat, rhythmic with their own.

Unfortunately for Paige, she still held on to any strain of hope that one day, and hopefully soon, he'd want to be more. He'd want to try stepping out into the public with her.

Things were all gonna crash down.


Paige awoke quickly out of her dream. Was it a dream? She wasn't even sure. Sometimes, her brain would take her back to the many times she'd stayed in his hotel room, and even though she was sleeping, she wasn't sure if it was just a vivid memory that had actually happened, or a wild sex dream that she hoped had happened.

It seemed to her, though, that anytime she thought of the past rendezvous with that gorgeous man, she could only remember the happy times. It was like her brain only wanted to focus on the good parts of their relationship...even though, aside from fucking, the only relationship they had was a cruel game of pretending like the other person wasn't in the room. She cursed herself, reminding her that he had been a total asshole, the whole reason she originally left the dating scene.

She had loved him, and stupidly.

Paige groaned as she stretched, trying not to focus on the dumb shit that her mind did while she slept. Instead, she had to be more worried about this killer headache. How had she managed to even get into her hotel room last night?

Her phone was blinking, which meant she had a text message.

Still laying in bed, she reached for it, unlocking the screen as Renee's picture popped up as the sender. Meh.

Paige, we've gotta talk.

Seriously, call me soon.

Really worried about you, girl.

Instead of answering any of the desperate messages, she turned her phone off, closing her eyes once more. Working out could wait; right now, she had to sleep off this numbing hangover.