Forever having a hard time with this. God, I dislike whatever is or isn't going on with Del Rio and Paige IRL. I thought for sure we were gonna see her on RAW, sucky sucky! It's hard writing when you don't know if a person's employment status...love P, but god I think she's being dumb right now.
Shout out to the people who have gotten behind this story, I appreciate your reviews greatly and like to hear suggestions on how to make it better!
In other news, I suck at updating...and I have a REAL reason why. I GOT MARRIED. :) Weddings are wayyyy more stressful than I expected.
Roman Reigns was embarrassed, to say the least.
After the dark-haired former diva's champion had totally told off both himself and Dean, she booked it up to her bedroom, opting to sit out from any further discussion. And while Roman hadn't planned for his guest to overhear his grievances, Paige had heard everything. He supposed that he was in the wrong. He knew a lot more about her than he'd let on, only because of the time spent in NXT together. During his run there, he had kept much to himself, and overheard everything. Back then, when NXT was still a brand new ordeal, the side-project of Hunter Helmsley was buzzing with rumors just as much as a high school's hallways.
She sure had set both former Shield members straight when she gave her little monologue, and now, Roman felt bad. He was supposed to be protecting Paige, and already, he made her feel like shit.
On the other hand, he thought he had been protecting Paige, and he believed that he had-in the past. Come to think of it, he'd protected her against Del Rio just recently. But dammit, this was bordering too far. Dean and Renee were meaning well, but they didn't take into consideration how fucked up the Samoans own life currently was. They'd just assumed that because he was a man with such a giant heart, he'd take this mess of a woman in without a blink of an eye.
Regardless, while Paige was upstairs pouting, both men had awkwardly wrapped up the visit. Dean had jetted quickly, ramming a few of Roman's cookies in his pockets before departing.
Now, for the past two hours, he'd remained downstairs, fiddling around on his phone and keeping up on his social media accounts. He made a point to check Paige's Twitter in hopes to gain insight into her pretty little mind. Unfortunately, she hadn't updated in nearly a week.
Groaning as he finally decided he ought to check on her to be certain she hadn't jumped from the window, he pinched the bridge of his nose knowing fully well how this next task would play out. He found himself climbing his own stairs slowly, like he was afraid to disturb her
But it's my damn house!
When he'd reached her bedroom door, it was closed. Should he just...open it? He decided against that quickly. Women were weird about their privacy, and who knew what Paige was doing in there.
He gave a quick, hard thud of a knock against the door, jumping backwards immediately as it swung open. Paige stood in the doorway, her dark eye makeup smeared on her cheeks. She looked like a raccoon-more so than normal-and either she was crying or napping. Or both.
"Did you come here to give me some half-ass apology?" she asked, stretching her arms above her head. "Won't do you any good, Champ. It's funny that people pretend that I have no idea what they say about me behind my back. What I find to be even more entertaining is how fake they pretend to be to my face."
Roman opened his mouth to comment, but she continued. "I don't need the WWE. I can go back home. I can go to pretty much any other promotion I would want to. Shit, TNA has been after me since I worked along with my mum. I just don't know what I want anymore."
Roman cleared his throat. "You know I'm in a similar situation. My character is falling flat, there are guys that are climbing over me left and right that deserve to be at the top, too. My life outside of work is a joke. And if you want me to be real with you, I will be. I'm not going to be fake to your face...I don't play that petty shit. But if we've got to live out this suspension together, I guess it doesn't hurt to be cool with each other. I mean...no, it's not a perfect situation for you or myself. Some days, I am ready to pack up and follow Damien Sandow and Cody Rhodes to another promotion. But when it comes down to it, I would hate to be without my brothers. Just like you would hate to be without Renee or Alicia."
Paige scoffed. "Fine, you win. I'll behave, hang out with the next John Cena, and re-think quitting my job."
Roman laughed. "Come on downstairs. I'll make you a grilled cheese sandwich."
Paige cast her eyes towards him. "How'd you know that was my favorite?"
Roman shrugged. "I fact-checked things," he replied as he motioned for her to follow him back to the kitchen. "And after that, we gotta watch our carb intake. Back to the gym for us tomorrow."
"Puke," Paige replied sullenly. She wanted to comment on how she could think of better ways for them to remain in shape, but she supposed it was inappropriate, given the situation with his soon-to-be ex-wife. Besides, this was damn Roman Reigns, a colleague that she'd known for years.
"Agreed. Also, if I'm the next John Cena, explain to be how that would be a bad thing. Everyone keeps giving that statement a negative connotation."
"Same gimmick, same shirts, same entrance for ten years? That's not exciting," she responded as she absent-mindedly steadied herself from falling forward on the steps and crashing down by using Roman's ridiculously muscled shoulder for support.
"Maybe, but the guy's got millions. He's a great person. And he's got Nikki...that's gotta be sayin' something."
Okay, so maybe Paige could've been less of an asshole to the brunt of the Shield men.
She'd heard that he was going through a lot of his own personal problems. After all, he had been hiding out in the lounge of their hotel, taking hits by himself before she'd rained on that parade. And hey, at the time? It was actually fun. The dude that the fans had been rolling their eyes at for the last few months had an actual personality, a spunky side to him. Paige had sort of seen him as the type of guy that was prude; very rules-oriented with no room for a fuck-up. And while she did love stepping into the ring, she hated feeling like she was being held down. She was a bird, dammit, and if she couldn't fly, she felt suffocated.
And now, here she was, sitting in the kitchen of the same guy that she was smoking weed with as he buttered Italian bread to make her a sandwich. It was surreal, it was fucked, but she couldn't help but get some kind of feels for the man. It was obvious that he was off-limits; Dean and Renee would not only kill her, but they'd disown him. Regardless, it was kind of nice to be in this setting with someone who actually gave a rats-ass about her well being. Berto would only take her out to dinner when they 'dated', and that was only when he wanted her to come back to his hotel room. Reigns had no motives; he was just abiding by what he'd been asked to do.
"Sooo..." Paige finally spoke, eager to fill the silence in the air. "Do you just study cookbooks for fun? I admit, the only thing I've heard about you is that you have fantastic physique and you're a badass cook."
Roman chuckled as the butter fizzled against the scorching hot pan. He made his way to the refrigerator, digging around until he extracted sliced cheese.
"Dean sure does know a lot about me, doesn't he?" Roman joked, his eyes catching hers for a single second. "I do like to cook. I know it's lame. I love football, too. Not just because I played, but because it gives me something to look forward to."
Paige shrugged, not wanting to admit that she knew literally nothing about the NFL or college teams.
"My ex-wife loved it, too. It was what brought us together to begin with. Except...I was all about Florida State, she loved Miami. I should've known there was some serious issues from the get-go, just based off from that alone." Roman then laughed at his own joke, and Paige was left clueless. She must've looked like a deer caught in the headlights, because he quickly explained that those two college teams were heated enemies.
"So why are you guys separating for real, then?" she asked as he slid the warm plate across the island counter of his kitchen towards her. She scooped it closer quickly, realizing straight away that this divine-smelling food was going to be way too hot for her right away.
Roman raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure of how to answer her startling question. He remained silent.
"I'm sorry-I don't mean to pry. I just wondered is all. You seem like you've got your shit together," Paige looked down at her bitten fingernails, trying to avoid any further eye contact.
Roman sighed. "I did. I do. She cites my crazy schedule as the reason she can't handle this anymore, and I guess I understand that. It's just sad, you know? Before I even signed the developmental deal for NXT, she knew that the possibility of me traveling for months on end was pretty high. And when I got shot upwards, it just...put more of a strain on everything. It sucks for me, and I've tried everything to change her mind. But she's stuck on us eventually divorcing, and I've got my hands tied. What more can I really do?"
Paige began to eat her delicious, gooey mess of a sandwich that he'd prepared. She pondered this for a moment. It seemed to her that Roman's wife was probably very insecure. Not only was Roman hot, but he was surrounded by some of the most beautiful women she'd ever met. Not to mention, fans were probably throwing themselves in his direction every time he walked down the ramp. Though she wouldn't state her opinion to him out loud, it was something that was likely to be true. After all, her ex was the same way. Jealous, and didn't like when attention was focused on her.
Course, she wasn't usually attracting good attention...but that was beside the point.
"Man, that really sucks," she responded coolly, not knowing what else to say. She was awful at giving any sort of advice, and having never been in much of a serious relationship, she was the last person that should be offering any. "Relationships can be really stupid. I've never been married, of course, so I can imagine that it's harder when there's that...kind of commitment. But you're on top of the world, Roman. Like, you've got it going on. "
Roman sighed. "Yeah, I do. It just would've been nice to be on top of the world alongside of someone I loved. That way, at least I can enjoy the view. It's lonely alone, at the top."
Tearing off the last hunk of her sandwich with her teeth, she decided not to comment further about that. "I hear what you're saying. Still, Champ, it's no reason to get involved in shit that could potentially burn bridges for you. You still have so much potential..." fuck, did she really just say that? She felt like she was a high school counselor. Whatever.
"Listen to you, Dr. Phil," Roman laughed, sitting across from her.
"Who?"
"The doctor on TV who helps people out...with their...problems...nevermind," he replied, embarrassed. "I haven't been getting out much, okay?"
"So basically having me around is the most interesting part of your suspension?"
"Something like that. But hey, what about you? What in the hell is going on with you?"
Pushing her plate away after gobbling the last bit of golden-brown bread crust, Paige crossed her arms awkwardly and leaned into the table. "I don't need another lecture, honestly," she said pointedly. "I know that I have been setting bridges of my own in flames. But hear me out. I adore my friends from NXT. Sasha, Bay, Becky...they all deserve to be on the main roster. I suppose Charlotte deserves to be there, too, but she's hardly a friend of mine."
Roman nodded solemnly, letting her explain her case.
"I just wish that the rest of us who weren't trying to reach for a title at the moment had some reason to go out there every night. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to so much as sniff the belt again. But since winning it from AJ, I've done basically nothing. I feel like I've let down my fans. I let down my family, for sure."
"You know how the management is, though," Roman pointed out. "If you do anything out of line, they make you sit out on the sidelines. And I know you've been misbehaving, because if you were being straight, you wouldn't be sitting at my house in the same predicament as I am."
Paige cracked her knuckles in response. "Well, maybe I'm sick of sitting on the sidelines. If I jumped ship to another promotion, I could do better than I'm doing now. But we all know that I won't go anywhere."
"What even offset this behavior from you? Total Divas?"
With that comment, Paige seemed to stiffen. "Why do you say that?" she asked, turning to finally look into his eyes. Damn, his eyes were beautiful; a steely blue-gray that were fierce. She could see, somewhere in those eyes, the hurt he was feeling.
"I've just watched it, is all. I understand what it's like to have a fuckton of money all at once and how it can change the way you act. Believe me, I can wrap my head around that one. It just seems to me that having the world know some of your secrets, even the painful ones, aren't doing you any favors."
Paige stood up suddenly, catching the Samoan off-guard. "I really do appreciate you making me some dinner. I'm gonna go wash up and hit the hay," she stretched, feigning a yawn to avoid any further discussion. She could see where this conversation could begin heading, and the last thing she wanted to do was have a pity-party for her dumb ass life choices when she'd first started.
How embarrassing for her, now knowing that Roman knew some of the things she'd discussed on the show alongside Foxy and Rosa. While Paige probably should've expected that people she knew in real life were gaping at her unpretty, exposed parts, it just seemed hard to believe that Roman would be one of them. If anything, she'd expected him to be the type to completely denounce the Total Divas television show and all that it stood for.
"Paige, I'm sorry if I offended you-"
"No, it's cool. Really," she said quickly, heading back towards the steps leading upstairs.
"If you confronted your demons, I can almost promise that things could get better for you. Believe that," he said lightly, trying to get her a smile. Instead she rolled her eyes and gave him the middle finger.
"I don't confront my demons, Reigns, I cuddle with them," she responded. "You know what I think? I think your wife is opting out because she knows that, if you wanted to, you could be with any woman in the world. She feels like a potato. Have you done a fucking thing to prove her otherwise? Nah. You've been busy wetting your hair down and showing off your muscles to the world. And to an ordinary, insecure person...it's frightening to see. Prove to her that nobody but her matters. And as for me? I don't really want to look back at the past any more than I already have. The pain and heartache of getting used and abused is harder than I ever thought imaginable. The pain and heartache of losing a piece of what was me...a baby...well, that's something that can wreck a life."
Roman tried to protest, to continue their discussion, but she was already flying up the stairs. He could hear her fiddle with the shower, probably trying to understand the complex hot/cold system that was set up.
Disappointed in the evening's end, Roman knew that he had to build a trust with this woman before she'd tear down walls for him. They had a long while to go with this arrangement, and the easier, the better. Unfortunately, tonight he'd seemed to make a few advances, but only to tumble a mile backwards. Paige was a tough girl to crack. And while normally he wouldn't give a flying fuck what this brat had to say, he was both terrified and intrigued by her. He had a soft spot for her as it was.
Tomorrow, he decided, would be a better day.
