Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.

You're damned right Hunter was pissed. This wasn't Candice or Keibler, who were basically on borrowed time when they first signed with the company or even Kelly, who made bank for them, but was stupid.

No. This was a diva that Creative was having issues with how to use, whose ring time had been drying up, but she'd been steadily working on the photo-op side for the company, making bank and not known to be problematic backstage (with the quiet exception of the Wellness Policy, that wasn't common knowledge and Hunter kept it that way. Hunter has no idea Randy told Rosa anything, confirming in fact Eve had smoked the substance in question that was now listed as banned with the company.) This was also a veteran wrestler's sister. Layla was very much wanted by the company to return, and keeping Eve happy might help Layla come back sooner.

This could also be a fucking lawsuit. Not so much against the company, unless Randy pushed and made it a hostile working environment (Rochelle's bag), but she could sign some complaints with the police on Randy if she wanted to right now. We're talking jail time.

Florida was similar to Randy's home state of Missouri in a certain way: It's illegal to display a firearm in an "angry or threatening manner" and good luck to Randy trying to prove, simply by his size and attitude alone, that he's not threatening, even if he hadn't said a word. Cops would likely tend to side with the petite, defenseless-seeming woman. And it's not just -a- firearm; it was common knowledge Randy kept, basically, an arsenal on his property.

"You know better than this, Randy. What the fuck."

This time Randy saw as Hunter added 2 more 10 lb. plates to the ends. It was after Hunter had asked him what the fuck. Randy waited for the clearance to start the next set of reps before trying to answer.

"I'm numb, bro."

Hunter might remember what that meant.

Numbness. Apathy. Not giving a fuck. Not having any fucks to give anymore. Not caring.

Of course he cared about his children. And the company. And the dog. Hell, both dogs if you consider Luke, who he doesn't see much but hand-selected for Alanna. And Sam. And his parents. And his brother. Even with their fucked-up relationship, he'd -still- take a bullet for the couch-shitting Cowboy.

Cowboy would always have a psychological hold on Randy that Randy would never shake. Same goes for certain people in Randy's life.

Like Hunter.

Which was why Randy was entrusting all of this -to- Hunter.

Vince had a hold on Randy but knew a few things there:

1. Tell Vince this shit and watch the man have a fucking stroke...No. Vince was too old for this.

2. Tell Vince this shit and watch, rather than someone closer to you like Hunter, who you can talk to, try to make sense of it...you get a sense of anger and disappointment out of the man who was like your second father. Yeah, that's one way to end up with a coke problem again. Fucking up like that would set Randy back an easy 5-7 years.

3. Tell Vince this shit and end up suspended and all over the dirt sheets. The lawyers would find a loophole and put Randy out of work. And he'd be living the life Randy was just warning Cody about last night. It would be Japan. Tyler would end up going back to live with the Spenos. Or end up running away. Or something bad. Randy wouldn't see his daughter at all. And he'd go bankrupt like Cowboy had twice.

Randy was struggling through this set of reps and his words came slower but they were more well-chosen. He was more concise. Less wordy.

"I can't do this anymore."

The bar was shaking and Hunter had to assist on the 8th rep. The bar was set back on the 10th as Randy almost dropped it on his chest. He'd broken into a profuse sweat that was running into his eyes.

"I can't go back there again."

Back into that place within himself. Where everything is numb, he doesn't feel shit, he doesn't care. He has all his assets together. All his ducks in a row.

He's talked about it with all of those close to him.
He's made provisions to care for them.
The kids each have property and in-trust bank accounts and CDs to make sure they're taken care of.
Guardian's named for Tyler..doesn't mean Tyler would listen if Randy took himself out.

But Randy knows his warning signs.

He fears that he's done irreparable damage to his heart and that an enlargement will kill him before he's 40, like many other wrestlers. If not 40, than 50.

The physicals show so far that he's so far, so good. Some damage but nothing that prevents him from working.

Hell, Roddy Piper was working with a broken neck until the past week.

But he has everything set up that -if- something happened to him, things would go as smoothly as possible for his friends and loved ones.

Even Eve, in death or breakup, gets a piece of the estate, in the form of the 'investment' property both were supposed to pay for, but Randy bought and put her name on as well. She'd dipped into her account and his to furnish it, but the hundreds of thousands that it cost ($300K and change) had been cash. Randy's cash. To provide for her in case shit didn't work out.

Maybe he knew from the start that it wasn't meant to last. You can't go from fucking someone in your car in the garage on the sly, while seeing other people, while trying to reunite with your ex, to stealing her away from one of your Evolution stablemates, to wondering if she was screwing one of your Legacy stablemates, to resenting her for not being more of a motherly figure to your kids...

...to watching her change from what attracted you in the first place.

She'd had a spark of life in her eyes that had attracted him way back when.

Randy knew it was him, his influence, his actions, maybe even his cruelty that snuffed that spark out.

Her eyes were dull. Her in-ring had dwindled. Maybe he'd held her back. He'd tried to knock her up, actually, to get her out of the ring, and that hadn't worked. He'd found an empty pack of birth control pills in the trash he took out once, after she'd told him she'd gone off the pill and was equally trying to conceive.

She was smarter than he was. While that baby might've set her financially for life, that same baby would've had them entwined for life. No, not just 18 years. Because when that baby has babies of their own, that's both your bloodlines tied into future generations.

But if she was wise, she had the condo and would be leaving with under half a million dollars worth of shit. The condo, its contents, the gifts he'd given her, the clothes he'd bought. She'd lived rent-free for the time under his roof, and she'd been leasing the place she owned in Miami to some friend, so she'd been making money there as well.

Eve should have been able to sock some serious coin away during this relationship, so she'd be leaving a winner regardless.

"I'm not asking you to transfer her brand. I'm not asking to go back to Raw, either. I just don't know what the fuck to do."

He sat up and took the towel Hunter offered. "If she never found out about Layla, maybe we could've worked everything out. But it's too far gone. I just don't give a fuck anymore."