There she was. On another one of her runaways. It's been over a week and he hasn't managed to get an explanation from her. Every time he tried to approach her she disappeared or pretended to be busy. Found a group of people to get lost in. She was good at this game, but he hated it. This wasn't supposed to be a game in the first place. But if it was, he was losing. Big time.
Always hiding. Always surrounded by other people and thus disabling his possibility to talk to her privately. It wasn't fair. He tried so hard; all he wanted was that fucking explanation. What miscarriage?
When they were staying at the same hotel, he often tried to sneak into her room. He knocked, even pretended to be the room service, but nothing worked. Renee really didn't want to talk to him.
There was even this one time that he knocked on her door and a guy wearing nothing more than boxers opened. "Who the hell are you?" Dean had asked him, angrier after witnessing the scene than he ever was when she escaped his attempts to talk to her. Dean managed to get inside her room that one time, but he didn't stay long. He had spent about five seconds jumping from staring at him and at her – lying in bed in her nightgown. He hadn't even seen a sign of regret or embarrassment on her face. She quietly lay there, watching him with her ice-cold eyes, until he couldn't take it any longer and left.
They never talked about that situation either. He never got the response to his question who that almost naked guy was. For one thing, Dean had never seen him before. . . . But he saw him afterward. Even without real clarification, he put two and two together and realized they were dating.
From somebody else he learned it was the hockey player she had dated before Valentine's Day. Dean wasn't sure whether he should appreciate the fact that she wasn't going out with someone new. Maybe it pleased him a little bit, but the feelings he had about the whole thing were still pretty negative.
There was a chance he would forgive her the boyfriend part if she told him what was happening. He needed the rest of the Valentine's Day conversation. Actually, that was something he demanded and he wasn't willing to compromise on that point. Dean wondered if the old-new guy had any idea. Even if not, he provided protection for his new girlfriend. Not that Dean was scared of him or anything, but those kinds of people – hockey players – tended to get into a lot of fights and Dean did not want a fight between them to occur. It could be a nice show for people around them, but Dean had better things to do than getting his face damaged outside of the ring. However, if she keeps ignoring him, he might need to take his rage on someone.
Seeing her now, he had to get the answers. "Renee," he called. He ran toward her just to find her safely hidden in the group of their coworkers.
When Dean approached the group, Renee – faking courtesy – smiled and him and said, "Sorry, I'm busy right now."
He wasn't sure what to make of the presence of the other people. Were they covering up for her? Was this busyness fake? Did they all gather here just to protect her? And why was everybody on her side? Dean looked around. Was there really nobody who would stand up for him?
Paranoia even convinced him that those people knew what was happening while Dean had no information at all.
However unfavorable the conditions were, he wasn't going to give up. It's been over a week and he wouldn't let it become two.
"Renee, this is important," he said to her in front of everybody.
"I'll get back to you," she assured him professionally, but they both knew that wouldn't happen.
He bit his tongue and sucked the lips in to bite them too. He was clenching his fists while faking a smile for the audience. "It's sort of urgent," he said as nicely as he could.
"I'm sorry, Dean," she said to him, continuing in her fake polite behavior. "I'm in the middle of something now."
Then somebody ruined her whole attempt to look unapproachable. "It's okay if you leave for five minutes. What Dean has to discuss appears more critical."
For a second, Renee wavered. She wasn't expecting her carefully built house of cards to fall apart in windless weather. She looked at Dean with hatred, and then looked back at her group. "There's been made a mistake in the concept and we won't be able to portray it truthfully with all those flaws. We need to fix them asap," she said.
Dean was left speechless. "Really?" he uttered quietly through his clenched teeth.
In his mind, she was laughing in his face, mocking him, having just won the trophy made of shattered pieces of his heart.
But they were ignoring him now and there wasn't much he could do about it. "Renee," he said in a silent, squeaky voice as the last resort to get her to talk to him. All was worthless; she paid absolutely no attention to him.
Dean felt miserable. Moreover, he did not understand where this was coming from. Sure, his dealing with Renee wasn't very fair either, but at least he wasn't avoiding her. And he gave her the most important information. Would it hurt if she did the same for him? Because he certainly did not feel that one word was enough.
Now walking away from the scene that could be compared only to embarrassment, having all those thoughts in mind, he stopped. He couldn't see her now, but his mind offered a supplementary image. He felt hatred because of the injustice that had been committed on him. Angry, desperate, he saw a solution. To turn around, walk toward the group she was part of, look at her, and openly ask, Did you have a miscarriage? He bet that would get her attention. But he had enough decency to not bring up such a topic in public.
What could he do? Keep trying. Lurk and finally find the moment when she's alone, approach her, and don't let her escape again. She would have to talk to him at some point.
Dean walked toward the locker room, low-spirited and honestly not even willing to fake happiness. Shoulders down, arms beside the body. Corners of his mouth down. He opened the door with a sigh.
There were only two other people inside, although somebody was taking a shower. Seth sat on the bench, putting on his shoes, and Roman was leaning above him, talking, seemingly explaining something. He looked up as soon as he heard the door open. "Dean," Roman welcomed him with a loud cheerful shout and a smile. "Bar. In ten minutes. You're in?" he asked.
"Nah . . . I don't know." A sigh. Only now Roman noticed Dean's beaten-up appearance.
"What's up with you?" Roman sounded worried now. A bit, for he did not think it'd be anything serious. Maybe just an exhaustion from the show.
Dean checked with Seth. Seth knew a bit more – there was still that memory in Seth's head of Abu Dhabi when Dean punched the wall right in front of him – but still, he had too little information to be able to answer Roman's question, the one that Dean chose to ignore.
"You know what's wrong?" Roman turned to Seth.
Seth shrugged his shoulders and said – whispered, really, "It has probably something to do with Renee."
"Oh."
Dean opened the locker and took out his stuff. He started taking off his clothes before Roman let the sight of him.
"You look like you need a beer," Roman said.
Dean mumbled, "I need a bullet through my head."
"Ok, that's it! You're coming with us."
The only good thing about Dean's apathy was that he spared energy even on objecting.
Having wrapped a towel around his waist, and with the shower gel in his hand, Dean headed for the showers.
"Ten minutes, Dean," Seth reminded him. Dean gave no damn, but Roman looked back at Seth with curiosity. "I have a thing later," Seth explained. "Don't worry, I can stay until midnight." After a not very satisfied look from Roman, Seth expanded the time he was willing to waste on his buddies, "One?"
Seth had no reason to worry; Dean returned in five minutes. With the same towel wrapped around him, dripping-wet hair, with several strands covering his forehead and filling his eyes with water, and a distant, confused expression in his face. He was stepping on the floor – dirty floor – with his bare feet. The absent look made him resemble a person who walked into the room and immediately forgot the reason why. Also, he stopped in the middle of the locker room, appearing to having lost the direction.
"Come on, Dean, let's go," Seth hurried him.
Dean looked up and replied, "Ten minutes."
Seth checked the time. "Actually, it's four now."
"Four minutes then," Dean said, maintaining the appearance of the person who has lost his path. But clearly he found it a second later. When he looked to the left and made five steps that enabled him to open the door and disappear.
He was going down the hallway wearing a towel and nothing underneath. He was barefoot, and his wet feet were leaving footprints on the floor.
Eyes were staring at him, but he never returned the look. He followed his goal.
It wasn't the first time that he found himself standing in front of women's locker room. It went as usual: he knocked.
Nikki Bella opened with a smile on her face that disappeared in the moment when she saw what Dean was wearing.
"Dean . . ."
"I'm looking for Renee," Dean said, skipping hello.
Nikki looked behind her and probably found what she was looking for because she called, "Renee! Dean is here." And, "He wants to talk to you . . . I guess," she added quietly, feeling uncomfortable as she always did when Dean appeared close to the women's lockers.
"Uh-huh." She turned to Dean again, but kept staring at her own shoes instead of looking into Dean's face. "She said," Nikki spoke quietly, evidently nervous. "Ehm . . ." She looked up for a brief moment. "She doesn't want to talk to you," she informed the person standing in front of her.
"Well, tell her I want to talk to her."
"Uhm . . . I already did," Nikki said. Her eyes were blinking more frequently than they should and her mouth was dry. Her submissive attitude revealed possible fear. For one thing, they did call him unstable. "You better . . ." – she hesitated again – "leave."
Dean made a step forward and effectively made Nikki step back. Then she got out of the way completely.
As it was slowly becoming a habit for him, Dean entered.
And there she was, hiding behind her friends.
There was a reaction to Dean's entering the room. Some women freaked out, some got angry, one whistled. Then again, he was wearing only a white towel.
"Renee, can I have a word with you?"
Nobody said a thing.
"Renee, I'm not leaving until you talk to me." He did stood there without a sign of hesitation whether what he was doing was right.
Her coworkers were looking at her with a plea to solve the situation.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"That doesn't matter," he said. "We will talk about it."
"No," she refused. "Now leave." And she added, "Please."
"I will not leave until you talk to me."
The situation for the room-occupants was really uncomfortable. A man in there, confidently standing in the middle of the room having nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, posing his demands on what appeared a scared woman whose only wish was for him to leave.
"Dean, go," Brie confidently said to him. She was one of the brave ones.
Another woman that was able to stand up to him was Natalya. "Should I call somebody?" she asked. There wasn't a real response, but she took silence for yes and left.
"You have about thirty seconds," Brie instructed him.
Dean's eyes focused on Renee only. "I just want to talk to you."
"Mr. Ambrose," a deep voice called. Dean turned around, concerned about troubles he might have gotten himself into.
Yet it was only Paige, jokingly scaring him, pretending to be a man. She smiled at him and cried, "Uh-oh." Then the smile grew even wider when her hand reached for the towel and pulled it. She started laughing. Actually, the most people in there did. But although some people did not find it particularly funny, they all stared. And Paige started jumping around – AJ style – with the towel as a trophy. Although the youngest in there, she was definitely the least bashful. She stopped the jumping after having made a circle. She stopped in front of the door and, fortunately, it was precisely at the time when the help was coming. Paige blocked the door.
"Open the door," they shouted from the outside, probably thinking it was Dean who was not letting them enter.
"You might wanna give him back the towel, or he'll get in more trouble that he's already in," somebody said to Paige.
Surprisingly, Dean did not care. He kept watching Renee. She was the only one in there who did not react to the exposal of Dean's naked body.
"Move away from the door, we're coming in!" the security – or whoever it was – shouted.
Then Paige opened the door. Just a little bit so they couldn't see what was happening inside. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked.
"There's been reported a problem concerning presence of a male individual." It was the security after all. Not J&J Security though; a real one.
"Everything's perfectly fine in here."
"If you excuse us, we need to check the situation."
Paige didn't move. "But there are naked people in here," she said. "I don't think it would be appropriate for you to enter."
She played her part well; they didn't know what to do. One of them – they were only two – called, "Is everything alright?"
Paige peeked back inside and posed a question. "Do we have a problem here?"
The answer came, "Everything's fine."
"See?" Paige said. "Thank you for checking up on us, but we're alright. It was just a minor misunderstanding."
Paige, as well as Natalya, got back in. While Natalya got shocked by the sight of a naked man – and she hasn't even seen the front yet – Paige remained cheerful. She jumped around to stop in front of him. Not even the nakedness got her off her stamina. "Huh, Ambrose, I think I just saved your ass."
Dean looked at her now. He did not appear angry, just a bit irritated. He grabbed the towel that was in her hand, "You mind?"
"Actually, I do." She managed to get it back, and threw it far away from him.
So he continued standing there in his natural beauty, looking above Paige's shoulder, watching her.
"I won't leave," he declared once again. But the girls did. None of them – maybe except for Paige – wanted to remain in the room as long as Dean was in there.
Renee was gonna leave too, but Paige grabbed her arm and said, "Just talk to him. He went through all that embarrassment for you." Then Paige left as well.
The room was empty; only the two of them stayed.
"Now we're alone," Dean said. "Will you tell me what happened?"
"Nothing."
She was not pleased to have this conversation, but there was something about what Paige had said. If Dean didn't want to talk to her so urgently, he would have left before having his dick exposed to the whole women's locker room. He underwent it so she could, and should, reward him with an explanation that he's been demanding for over a week.
Maybe he should have picked up that towel to cover his genitalia, but his priority was the conversation. The answers. So instead, he spoke. "You said there were things you can't go back from." No acknowledgment from her. No yes, no no, not even a nod. "Like a miscarriage?" His eyes were watching her moving eyelashes because eyes were not approachable to him. "Did you . . . have a miscarriage?"
Silence.
"Can you at least nod or shake your head?"
She nodded. He noticed tears in her eyes.
"Is that yes?"
She nodded again.
He sighed from relieve, which was maybe strange but he made her communicate with him. "Ok . . . Was it before or after we broke up?"
Nothing.
"Before?" he asked.
Renee shook her head.
"After?"
A nod.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Silence. He added, "I mean, it was my child, wasn't it?"
She hesitantly nodded, but it certainly wasn't because she had doubts.
Not once she looked at him. Not once she interacted with him. Not once she spoke.
"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" Dean asked her. Blaming her? It sounded so, although it was unintentional. "Renee?"
The door swung open.
"What the hell is happening here?" Roman yelled. "And why are you naked?"
Dean did not look at him. He was looking at Renee, the guilt in her eyes. The sadness.
"Oh my God!" Roman shouted angrily when he got closer to them. He noticed the tears. "Did you make her cry?"
None of the two provided an answer. Roman, sympathizing far more with Renee than with Dean, put his arm over her and pulled her closer to him. He placed his right hand on her head. "It'll be alright," he soother her. While hugging her, he gave Dean a stink eye and a piece of advice. "You better put something on before someone sees you." Renee's head was leaning against Roman's chest when Roman said to Dean, "Seriously, why the fuck are naked?"
Dean still watched her. He wished to be the one soothing her. He wished to be holding her in his arms because he felt it was his responsibility to ease her suffering. However, when he attempted to touch her, Roman pushed him away. "Leave her alone."
"We have unfinished business here." There were more questions on his mind. He only managed to get facts out of her, and not even all of them.
Roman turned to Renee for an answer. "Do you?" He gently lifted her head so that she would look at him. She looked at Dean, too, which only made her final response more irrational.
"No." It was painful to hear that. She refused to talk to him despite everything. Why?
Some disillusion in Dean's eyes made Roman give Renee a chance to take it back. "You're sure?"
She was stabbing Dean with her eyes while saying, "Yes." Then she looked at Roman, smiled at him – something she would never do looking at Dean – and left the room.
Dean knew there was no point in stopping her so he didn't even try. He let her pass by, open the door, which weren't fully closed before, and close them when she got out.
The two guys looked at each other, both mad for different reasons.
"I don't know what to say," Roman admitted. There was judgment in his voice. Of course, the scene that he witnessed was Dean Ambrose standing in the middle of the women's locker room that had just been vacated by the whole female part of the company and facing his ex-girlfriend who had tears in her eyes. What does a person make of that? Clearly it casted a negative shadow on Dean. "Would you mind covering your dick?"
Yes, he was still naked, and yes, he should do something about it. The towel that had been covering him before was now laying across the room. He went over to it and tied it around his waist again.
"Now, what the hell happened here?"
"I wanted to talk to her," Dean started his defense that was already doomed to fail.
"And you couldn't do it like a normal human being?"
"She was avoiding me."
"So . . . you followed her here and got naked?!" Roman toned down his emotions to get the volume under control. "Do you not think at all?" And the criticism of Dean's inappropriate behavior went on. "You realize the trouble you got yourself into?" There wasn't a sign that would suggest Dean understood what may be the consequences of his action. "You can't just get naked in the room full of women."
"I did not do that."
"Well, you were naked."
"I was wearing a towel," Dean explained.
Roman clapped with a sarcastic grin. "Amazing. So what happened then? It disappeared?"
"Paige thought it'd be funny to undress me."
Roman furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't fully grasp how that'd be funny. "Well, the fact is –"
Dean interrupted, saying, "I don't give a damn. We're going to that bar or what?" With that, he walked over to the exit, opening the door, exposing himself to the wide audience of the people who worked for the company. He couldn't see Renee but there were almost all the girls that were previously inside, plus the male counterparts.
Roman followed and he too stopped to exchange looks with his coworkers. Guys looked especially angry. Notably those who had a girlfriend or a wife inside the locker room when the incident happened looked eagerly to punish the wrestler who had enough courage to do something so immoral.
Some people expected him to get punished for the action and some people looked willing to serve justice.
Then there was Paige, smiling, easing the tension. "They're just jealous." She appeared to be one of the few who were on Dean's side. Actually, she was probably the only one.
"What happened in there, Ambrose?"
"Nothing," Roman said.
"Come on, you weren't even there, Reigns. Stop protecting him."
If somebody could tell the real story, it was the girls. But those were mostly quiet.
"Mr. Ambrose," the security called his name, and tried to put their hands on him, something that Roman prevented from happening. What was Dean under arrest? "We'd like you to come with us."
"You have nothing on him," Roman officially took care of the advocacy. "Is anybody pressing charges against him?"
Again, the eyes set on the girls. Especially Bree appeared to have problems with Dean going unpunished. But it was hard to say something when Reigns could dominate you with one look. And the support – official support – among the girls for Ambrose's punishment was not very wide.
"Nothing happened there that Dean Ambrose should be punished for," Paige said very confidently. "Besides, he's already been punished for stepping foot in our locker room."
Dean and Roman walked by and the crowd slowly dispersed. It was hard to say if there would be any further consequences for him, but he appeared to be safe for now.
Roman didn't say anything until they left the hearing area of the other people. "That was the last time you left the locker room in a towel. Actually, let me rephrase that. That was the last time you went somewhere without asking me first."
"You can bet I will ask for your permission," Dean spat.
"I'm serious, Dean. This isn't over. You'll get a ban from getting anywhere near the women's room. Probably you won't even be able to get close to any Diva."
Roman now officially left the defending-Dean position. He didn't want Dean to mistake his previous attitude in the presence of other people for siding with him. Dean was responsible for everything that happened, and although he acted as though Dean shouldn't be punished, Roman really thought he should, and he would take the role of the executor.
"I just wanted to talk to her."
"Well, next time do it in a public place."
"I tried. She ignored me."
"Look, Dean, I'm not gonna get into something that's between you two, again, but accept it when she doesn't want to talk to you."
They were standing in front of the locker room now so Dean took it as the topic was concluded.
He opened the door of an almost-empty room. Of course, everybody was out finding out about the incident that Dean played leading role in.
Seth was sitting with his eyes focused on his phone. Legs were straightened in front of him and his back was comfortably leaning backward. The bags were packed and he was all ready to go.
Now he looked at the new-comers. "You're late." He returned to his previous activity.
Dean went over to the locker and started dressing up. Roman sat down next to Seth and waited for Dean to get ready. He uttered as an explanation, "There have been some . . . problems."
"With Dean?" Seth asked without looking up.
"Yeah."
Seth did not take much interest in it because he was already accustomed to everything not going according to plan with Dean. Seth leisurely asked, "What did he do?"
Roman sighed. "I'm sure you'll hear about it." Then he looked toward Dean, who was now putting on his shirt. "Come on, Dean, we wanna leave before someone comes it." Suspicion reflected on Seth's furrowed brows made Roman add, "Dean may be in trouble."
Seth's reception of the information was mild. "Should I lock the door?" he asked jokingly. But he didn't start a process of interrogation to find out what actually happened in those minutes that Dean spent outside walking around almost naked.
Dean put on his shoes. For someone who may soon become the physical target of the fellow wrestlers, he appeared too calm, taking his time with getting ready.
"Dean, come on. Don't think I'll protect your stupid ass when they come for you."
Now Seth's attention has risen. "What exactly happened?" He looked at both guys hoping that at least one would explain.
Roman simply uttered, "Dean lost his mind, that's what happened."
"Could you elaborate on that?"
Roman grinned. "Don't be surprised when you hear Divas talking about Dean's dick."
"What?!" Seth shouted.
Dean, finishing the packing, mumbled, "They saw nothing." Then he stood up and turned to the guys. "I'm ready. Can we go?"
"Can't believe I missed that," laughed Seth as they all headed toward the door.
Roman checked the hallway. It was fairly empty; at least those who could prevent them from leaving were not anywhere close. "Go," he whispered to Dean.
"Run. Run!" Seth shouted cheerfully.
Dean did not hurry. He kept that bored expression on his face as he slowly walked outside. "You're overreacting," he said.
"No. You're underreacting," Roman opposed.
"Run, Dean, run!" Seth shouted again.
Dean hatefully looked to the left where the deafening sound was coming from. "You'll be the one getting beaten up if you don't shut up."
Seth kept looking at Dean with a grin, considering accepting the challenge. He was having troubles holding back the laughter. Dean's fixed you're-dead look made it so much harder for him. Seth's mouth opened, but Dean's finger pressed against it before any sound could come out.
"Don't you dare."
Seth squeaked.
Dean shushed him with domineering look.
"Have you at least found out what you wanted from Renee?" Roman interrupted their little stand-off with his question.
No response. The eyes still watched Seth who could explode any minute with uncontrollable laughter.
"Would you leave it, you two? We gotta go."
They stopped penetrating each other with their eyes and returned to walking. Getting out of the arena was the priority.
Suddenly Seth shouted, "Run!"
First reaction was looking around to see if somebody was chasing him. He'd probably get alarmed if he saw Bryan, but there was nobody. What added to the probability of it being a joke was Seth's hearty laughter. Now Dean disdainfully looked at Seth and grabbed him by his collar. "I warned you, you dickhead!"
"Oh, yeah, get into a fight," Roman said dramatically. "That's gonna improve your image."
Dean let go of Seth. "He's being immature," Dean complained to daddy.
"You're the one to talk. . . . Seriously, if I'm supposed to deal with you two, I need a beer."
Maybe even they were surprised that they managed to leave the arena without being noticed. Despite that, however, they knew there would be some consequences later. But they didn't need to – and they wouldn't – worry about it now.
The destination was the bar just a few blocks away. They didn't want to be too close to the arena because there they would probably find a lot of fans and people who attended the show. On the other hand, they wouldn't mind some people wondering if it was them who were sitting just two tables away. Maybe even asking for an autograph or a picture would be okay. The guys certainly were in mood for getting recognized.
The bar was full, but they found a table in the corner that the waiter was currently cleaning after the previous customers. Dean sat down first, by the wall, already grabbing the list of drinks that they served there. Like he was going to order something special . . . No tomorrow . . . hmm, that sounded good.
Roman sat between the guys, perhaps still unsure whether they wouldn't get into a fight with each other. Those two could act like kids sometimes.
Seth went to get the first round. Beers would do for now. He came back just at the beginning of the hearing.
As he was placing the beers in front of each guy and sitting down, Roman was turned to Dean. "So can you now tell me what the fuck happened?"
"I don't feel like talking about it," Dean replied, already working on his beer. A third was gone by the time Seth took his first sip.
"Well, somebody will want to talk about it and if you want my support in this whole issue, I want to know everything. And I mean everything, all the details."
"Jeez, I'm not asking for your support, Ro."
"Okay, but how the hell do you end up naked in women's locker room?!"
"Whoa! You were completely naked?" Seth asked.
"I've already said I went there to talk to Renee."
"Oh," Seth sighed. "Is she still ignoring you?"
"Yeah."
"What's going on?" Roman asked, suddenly feeling like the one knowing the least.
Seth checked with Dean to see if it was okay if he said the part that he knew about. Dean did not seem to be much against it so Seth started, "It's been going on for longer than a week. She doesn't want to talk to him . . . and Dean seems to have something important to discuss."
"Yeah, well, I've got the essential information out of her so could we drop it now?"
"You realize it's been almost two months since you broke up and you still hang on to her," Roman said in form of an accusation.
"This is different."
Seth leaned toward Roman to say, "Well, I've heard things . . ."
"What things?" Roman got interested, maybe a bit too much as it scaled down his cold, dominant attitude.
"Renee got roses on Valentine's Day . . . from Dean."
"You sent her roses?" Roman shouted to the guy to his left. "To your ex?" he stressed. "What the hell's wrong with you? And you're surprised that she won't talk to you?" Roman shook his head.
"That has nothing to do with it."
"So you did," Seth uttered, maybe initially thinking it was nothing more than a rumor.
"What did Nate say to that?"
"I don't think he knows," Seth responded to Roman's question. "Besides, they weren't going out at the time."
"Oh, boy. He's gonna be pissed when he finds out. I would."
"Well, they were not together –"
"Like that matters! It's a clear proof that there's still a danger," Roman said.
Dean until now ignored the conversation he was excluded from. But suddenly his stopped staring at the empty glass and looked up. But the guys did not stop talking or apologized for talking about Renee and her boyfriend in front of her ex. Instead, Roman said to Dean, "You should let her go."
"You should go fuck yourself."
"Okay." Roman accepted the reproach without making a big deal out of it.
"What is it with you?" Seth asked after the waiter left their table. Dean now had a full glass of beer in front of him.
"Nothing. I'm great."
"What is it exactly that you talked to her about?" Roman asked, recalling the scene he witnessed when he entered the women's locker room and saw two people, one of whom was naked and the other had tears in her eyes.
"Personal stuff."
"Tell me you didn't yell at her for going out with someone."
"No."
"Was it about the thing you wanted to talk to her about when we were in Abu Dhabi?" Seth guessed, making sure he wouldn't reveal anything. Well, more relevant factor was that he actually did not know the object of Dean's interest.
Dean went on to order something stronger.
"Dean?" Seth demanded the answer.
Dean leaned backward and gave out a sigh. He made himself look annoyed for being asked. Instead of a reply, he checked his phone because he heard a sound of an incoming message. It was Triple H; what a surprise. Get back to me as soon as possible.
"Look if you don't want to talk about it –"
"I really don't," Dean interrupted Roman's kind attempt to make him and Seth look like caring friends instead of two people who had to know everything about his life.
If that was supposed to be a way to make Dean talk, it did not work.
"Okay, then," Roman accepted the defeat. "Let's get to the point why we gathered here tonight."
"Don't be official, please," Dean uttered. "And we came here to get wasted." More drinks appeared in front of him. He lined them all up.
"No," Roman said, "but I see that you made it your goal tonight." He watched Dean drinking the third beer and supplementing it with Bacardi. "Anyway," Roman smiled, "I'm getting you two laid."
Seth looked up, fairly unenthusiastic, while Dean gave no damn at all.
"We have here a sea of all kinds of fishes. Blondes, brunettes, red heads . . . something what looks like a rainbow. Short, tall, big boobs, small boobs, no boobs," Roman continued. "Slim, curvy, fat, obese," his body shook as though he was cold, "Americans, Europeans, Asians . . . Businesswomen, whores . . . whatever you like," he said with a wide smile on his face.
Seth did not appreciate the attempt. "I really don't think so."
"Come on, it's gonna be fun. And you said you're staying until 1 –"
"She hates me!" Dean interrupted with a pitiful sigh. "She doesn't care about me." He poured another shot into his body. "Clearly she didn't even think I should now." Now he was paying no attention to what was happening around him. "Right . . . 'cause who am I to have the right to such information. . . . It has nothing to do with me," he continued pouring out his disillusion, accompanied with sarcastic tone.
"And I don't think he cares either," Seth told Roman.
Both Seth and Roman looked at Dean with worry, wondering if they should intervene.
"Who am I, really?" Dean went on, finishing yet another shot. It was whiskey this time. "Nothing but a sperm donor!" Then he looked around and said, "I need to piss." He left the table to go find bathrooms . . . or someplace.
"Oh, shit!" Seth exclaimed.
"He looks terrible. How much has he drunk?" Roman checked the empty glasses in front of place where Dean was sitting. "How long have we been here?" Roman was only drinking his second beer and Seth was just finishing the first one. Dean on the other hand . . . one, two, three, four . . . and the count went on.
"No." Seth grabbed the sleeve of Roman's shirt. "I probably know what's happening."
"With him?"
"With him, Renee, yeah," Seth admitted. "And I think I should disappear before Dean comes back or he'll kill me when he finds out I knew." Seth's worries seemed justified to him. The fear . . . he imagined telling Dean he had known for over a month that Renee had a miscarriage. Not once he even hinted anything to Dean. Well, that can't end well for him.
Seth wondered how much time he got.
"Don't overreact."
"I think I'm not." Seth lowered the volume, moved closer to Roman, and finally whispered to him. "Renee had a miscarriage, and she didn't tell Dean about it . . . clearly until now."
"What? Like, for real?"
"Yeah. I knew something was happening with Dean when we were in Abu Dhabi, and if this is what he found out, it makes perfect sense."
"Wait, wait! So what exactly happened?'
"Well, she was pregnant at the time Dean and her broke up, then she lost the baby and chose not to tell Dean about it."
Roman looked at Seth very suspiciously. "And you know about this?" For once, this wasn't a positive fact.
"Well . . . she told me. I sort of made her tell me."
"And how long have you known?"
"A month, more or less."
"And Dean found out just now. . . ." This was not good. Not at all. Roman adjusted his position. He straightened his body and looked ahead. Not that he's been looking for him, but it was somewhat reassuring that he couldn't see Dean. "You're dead."
Seth faked a smile. "Yeah, I know."
"You keep your mouth shut. Just act . . . casual," Roman advised him.
"How do you act casual?"
"Follow my lead," Roman said as he noticed Dean approaching the booth.
Dean sat down and saw the full glass of . . . well, he didn't even know what it was, but he pushed it away. He sighed. "I don't want this."
Roman accepted that attitude and placed all the glasses with some liquid still in them from Dean's to Seth's side.
"I'm not drinking it," Seth said as though it was his obligation to finish them just because they stood in front of him.
"Anyway," Dean spoke, "it's all just getting shittier." He sounded more self-conscious since he returned from the bathroom. He was well-aware of everything that was happening around him. Not right now, although he noticed the strange looks on the faces of his friends, but in general. The situation with Renee, the situation in WWE, his recent incident in the women's locker room that he was reminded of as soon as he checked his phone and saw a couple more messages from several people within the company – some of which were boyfriends or husbands of Divas involved . . . those were the messages he certainly wasn't going to open if death threats were not what he wanted to be falling asleep to. With all the issues, his problem chasing the Intercontinental Championship instead of the big one seemed minor. Like that mattered, he reminded himself at the low points, his business wasn't the one where the greatest performers were necessarily the biggest stars with the highest number of titles.
Roman conspiringly looked at Seth, then at Dean. "What happened?" Roman wondered if Dean was going to tell them. "Still not feeling like sharing your worries?" His voice was kind, friendly.
"Share my worries? I'm not worried."
"Alrigh–"
"I'm disappointed, that's all."
"Why exactly?" Roman tried again to finally get it out of him.
"She's keeping things from me, and I don't like that."
"What things?"
Dean stood up and left again. This time he went to get another drink. He returned a bit later with something what looked like . . . iced tea? He sat down and took a sip.
"You were saying?"
Dean stopped taking the liquid in through the straw to look at Roman with confusion. "No, you asked. And you're expecting me to answer, but I'm not drunk enough to say something I don't want you to know."
"Okay."
"But if you need to know, she's a bitch."
"Wha- What?!" Seth exclaimed.
"Did you just call Renee a bitch?"
"What kind of person keeps that a secret?" Dean argued, casually drinking his non-alcoholic beverage.
"She was protecting you, you asshole!" Seth suddenly shouted. He had to stand for justice, despite the danger that came with it.
Roman could hold in the surprise of Seth's reaction, but he shook his head and took back his promised protection of his friend. Seth was on his own. Then again, maybe Dean wouldn't notice.
Dean's letting go of the drink to focus on the attack that Seth initiated on him however left little doubt what he was thinking. He sat back, with eyes suspiciously watching the guy sitting across the table. The anger did not quite arrive yet, but there was a lot of mistrust.
Seth wasn't even sure why he said that. For one thing, he was with Dean on this one. Theoretically. He himself had told Renee to tell him, but when he heard Dean calling Renee the b-word, he couldn't take it.
"Protecting me? Protecting me from what exactly?"
"From having to face the reality. From having to deal with it like she had to."
"What are you talking about?'' Dean asked, still surprisingly calm.
Seth went on full strike. "You know what I'm talking about."
It'd be awkward if this was a misunderstanding, but somehow both guys – actually all three of them – knew that the topic was the same.
Seth found no reason for keeping his mouth shut now. "You don't even get it! Your only problem with this is that she didn't tell you. But do you even realize what's happening?" He kept his eyes on Dean who was smashing some peanuts with his palm. "You're focusing on unimportant things. Has it even occurred to you that you could have become a father?" Now the anger was clearly visible. "No, of course not."
"You knew about it. . . . You fucking knew about this!" While shouting he spat on the table and some of Dean's saliva also landed on Roman's hand who finally put it away from the table. "She told you, but not me." It was hard for Dean to swallow that turn of events.
"Again, not focusing on the right issue here."
Dean turned to the guy next to him. "Don't tell me you knew about this too."
"I . . . I didn't. I swear," said Roman, looking more afraid than normally.
"Just calm down, Dean. Reassess the facts."
"The facts, huh? Ok. Well, the fact is Renee didn't tell that she was pregnant and that she miscarried. Then, when she, what seems to me, accidentally hints me something, she refuses to talk to me, to give me any kind of explanation, or any information at all, and now I find out that what used to be best friend knew all along, but didn't tell me anything 'cause . . . Why would I need to know that?" he asked sarcastically. "And still, I'm the biggest asshole here."
Silence followed during which there was no eye contact between any two parties sitting at the table.
"Prove me I'm irrational being mad about this."
Seth accepted the challenge. "Well, she didn't tell you because she wanted to spare you the pain, something I now see she didn't need to worry about. And I told her my opinion on this, that you ought to know, but it was her decision in the end. I hope you seriously don't think I would go behind her back to tell you about something that was none of my business in the first place. . . ."
"But it certainly is my business.Or is it like 'you broke up with me so now it's none of your business?' Is that how it works? I don't get to know that my ex is pregnant because I ended it between us?"
Seth looked at Dean suspiciously. "It's not like she knew she was pregnant."
"See? She didn't even mention that to me. And now what? Am I supposed to keep stalking her until she reveals all the information to me? This is bullshit!" He took a break to reach for one of the alcoholic drinks in front of Seth and finished it. Clearly the iced tea did not suffice for this topic. "If it wasn't for her mistake, I wouldn't even know about it. I guess I'm lucky I found out," he laughed. "Finding out by chance . . . I feel like such an idiot." He drank up the shot of whiskey.
"She would probably tell you at some point," Roman offered soothing words that were, however, unfounded.
"Or would she? What if she just kept that a secret forever?"
Roman and Seth looked at each other, sympathizing with their friend. They didn't really have much to say, certainly they couldn't come up with something that would make Dean feel better.
After a minute, Seth thought of something appropriate to say. "You know now. The question is how you gonna deal with that information."
"I don't know," Dean said. He was wondering if he wanted to get drunk or return to his non-alcoholic drink. Alcohol won. "What is a person – a guy who's moreover not even romantically involved with the girl anymore – supposed to do in a situation like this? I mean, look at me and her. I know we're not together, but this is still our problem, or whatever you call it. Shouldn't we deal with it together?" He looked at his friends, expecting an answer.
"I don't know," Roman said, and Seth too shrugged.
"What's the protocol here? Do you get back together? Do you accept it and move on? Do you pretend it never happened? Or do you not talk to each other ever again?" After a pause he said, "I guess she has already decided for the last one."
Seth sighed. "I know you're still pretty passionate about her attitude, but try to look at it from her perspective." Dean looked up, and those eyes weren't very friendly. "I don't mean to defend her, but . . . I kinda get it." Seth thought that maybe if he explained what he meant, Dean would stop seeing it as a betrayal. "Her boyfriend dumps her without any real explanation – no offense," Seth quickly added. "A little later she finds out he left her pregnant, but that is not an issue anymore. She has to deal with it on her own, so what does she do? Focuses on something else. Work, friends, guys. She starts dating again to take her mind off what happened. . . . And then there is her ex who keeps bugging her about something she's been trying to forget about."
"Well, she could've told me right after she found out."
Seth just stared at him. "Dean?" he called him although Dean was looking at him. "I don't mean to be rude, but look again at how you took that information. You got mad over learning it only now. Even I took more adequately. After Renee told me about it, I actually imagined what it would be like if you two had that baby. I'm sure Renee thought about that too. Now, have you?"
The expression on Dean's face suggested he did not understand. "What would be the point of that?"
"There's no point; it's a natural reaction."
"Well, that's just stupid."
"And there is your answer why she didn't tell you."
Roman did not favor Seth's strategy. He did not know about Renee's reasons, whether she thought Dean was unsupportive or emotionless, but he was sure once the anger subsides, it will hit Dean. It just takes time to understand the issue in its complexity.
"Look, Dean, don't listen to Seth. What you need to do is talk to Renee. You two need to stop having secrets and have a real discussion. I'm sorry I got between you two earlier, but I had no idea what was going on."
Dean nodded as a sign of having accepted the apology.
"But you need to cool down over it first. Clear your mind," Roman suggested. "For now, forget about her, forget about all the troubles, the earlier incident – I'll help you straighten it out," Roman said, "just get it all out of your mind."
Dean breathed in and out. He wished he could forget about everything. Even for a second. Maybe more alcohol? No.
"Now, see that blonde over there?" Roman pointed at a girl with medium-long wavy hair, laughing with her girlfriends two tables away.
"Yeah?" Dean replied, sounding either bored or tired or both.
"You'll leaving with her tonight."
Dean did not look very enthusiastic about that.
"Not a blonde today?" he guessed.
Seth observed, and then offered his opinion. "I don't think he's interested in getting laid tonight."
Roman dismissed that. "What about that ginger bartender? She's hot."
Dean appeared to be quietly thinking, but definitely not about banging that chick Roman had in mind.
"Seth?" Roman turned to his other friend.
"No."
"Hey, that one looks like your type," Roman smiled, pointing at another girl, this time a big-busted one in short skirt with amazing legs, probably younger than them.
"No," Seth confidently refused.
"Come on, you guys, I want to be someone's wingman."
"Sorry, Ro," Seth cheerfully said to him, "not gonna happen."
"Why not?" cried Roman.
Seth smiles. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, I have a girlfriend."
"What? Since when?"
"This month, pretty much."
"So I don't get to be your wingman?"
"No, sorry."
Roman kept the pretended sadness on as he turned to his left. "And you? What's your excuse?"
Dean looked at him and said, "I have Renee."
Roman sighed. "I'll get another round then." Seth let him out. "Beer?" Seth nodded. "Beer?" Roman asked Dean when he didn't say anything.
"Water?" said Dean.
When Roman left, Seth moved closer to Dean. "Sorry I didn't tell you."
Dean didn't really care about it anymore. "What should I do?" he asked instead.
Seth wished he had an answer. He didn't, only one suggestion. "Sleep on it."