Dean's eyes were sparkling. His mouth was slightly opened. One could see that excitement in his face only when he was watching a wrestling match, as he was right now. Surely it was great to be part of the action, but watching it was pretty cool too. Even more now when he knew that those people that were on the screen getting on it were the ones he was going to face soon, in about a week at Payback.

He could feel all those hits as though he was the one receiving them. He could feel all those punches as though he was the one throwing them. Dean imagined flying through the ropes and landing on the two guys, just for the sake of it. Although he already knew the result of the match taking place on the screen in front of him right now, he was still able to enjoy it. It was strange how once you overcome the magic, stop believing the illusions those wrestlers create to entertain the audience, wrestling becomes even more magical. Logic didn't quite work in this instance, but then again, this was mainly about the atmosphere.

Soon he would find himself in the ring with his three friends, or enemies, whatever suited him more at the moment, but even before the start of that match, he knew it would be amazing. Great show. If he is lucky, he will leave the ring bleeding. Yes, he was one of those who got an adrenaline rush when they found a fresh wound on their body. There was something unbelievable ecstatic about getting hurt in the match. No serious injuries, though. But requiring a couple of stitches afterwards was something Dean did not mind.

". . . Saturday . . . dinner . . . dessert . . . you know . . ."

"Beautiful," Dean gasped as he witnessed a more-than-perfect powerslam.

". . . and then . . . you know what she said?"

Dean blindly reached for a water bottle to take a sip. He couldn't take his eyes off the spectacle.

"You know what she said, Dean?"

"Hmm?" asked Dean. No, he was not paying attention. In a battle between wrestling and anything else, wrestling had a guaranteed victory.

"I shouldn't be telling you this."

As the referee was hitting the mat, Dean subconsciously nodded with his head at each count. He knew it would be a near-fall; the match would go on for at least another ten minutes. When the tense moments passed, Dean looked to the right, at the blond girl that wouldn't stop talking.

This was the first time in a while that he acknowledged her presence. "I said it was okay for you to be here, watching the match with me, Summer. I never said I would take part in your gossiping."

Instead of getting offended, Summer Rae took a different approach. "You're not interested?" Her doubtful way of saying it was to suggest she did not buy Dean's lack of interest. He probably just didn't want to make it obvious.

"I don't get it. You're a wrestler. How come you don't give a shit what's going on there?" He pointed at the large flat screen on the wall in front of them. Dean continued, "This is a piece of art, and you keep rambling about –"

"About something you're really interested in," she interrupted him.

But Dean did not care. Only thing that mattered to him was the in-ring action concerning the WWE championship. After a successful execution of a move he nicknamed "to hell with the announce table," where he watched Seth getting his back almost broken by the Viper, Dean returned to the conversation that was going on even without his permission or active participation. "Shut up, Summer."

She was stunned, and really did stop talking for a moment.

"Look at that," he told her, and again pointed at the screen, specifically referring to the move that Summer just missed because she wasn't looking. "Can you do that?" As she wasn't sure what Dean was talking about, and also as a result of Dean's previous demeaning acting toward her, she remained quiet. "If you took more interest in wrestling than in these girly machinations, you'd be able to perform on a similar level."

Summer sensed a male versus female wrestling topic was approaching, and this was making her mad. She decided to ruthlessly strike back, albeit leaving wrestling out of it. "She said he was like her soulmate. Not you, Dean. Nate."

"You seriously think that will upset me?"

"It should," she said. "They're more compatible than you and her are. I've never seen her happier."

"That's because you've never seen her after sex with me."

"Relationship is not just about sex, Dean."

Dean laughed. "Tell that to my girlfriend." He kept smiling while watching the screen, but this time it had nothing to do with what was happening in the match. While Summer was still confused over the girlfriend remark, Dean continued, "Seriously though, there's no such thing as soulmates. How would that work anyway?" he spoke, not necessarily addressing the words to Summer. "Would it be someone just like us? We'd drive each other crazy. We'd probably kill each other . . . or ourselves. Or a total opposite? And then we'd pick on every single thing we don't like about each other. That wouldn't work. Or would it be someone we see across the room and fall in love with immediately?" Dean smiled, abstractedly looking at the screen. He wasn't paying real attention to the action in the match, though. "I don't believe in love at first sight. It's attraction. Physical, sexual attraction. You see someone and you want to have sex with them. That's okay. That's perfectly normal. But you don't fall in love with someone like that. Without knowing them. And even if . . . that gradually subsides. Love, attraction, whatever it is, leaves and you're left with someone you can't stand anymore."

"I believe they're your best friend," said Summer. Dean almost forgot she was there when she suddenly expressing her opinion on the topic of soulmates.

Dean did not care enough to point to more flaws he found with the whole concept of soulmates.

"Maybe they're not soulmates, I don't know. But if they end up together, they have a nice romantic story to tell. Unlike you two." She explained, "Friends for a couple of years, then hook up, start dating, break up after less than a year of being together?" Summer made a grimace of being bored and disgusted at the same time.

Dean did not like Summer's version, which was in his eyes far from reality and arrogantly over-simplified, but did not object.

"You know the story of how Renee and Nate met?"

"Oh yeah, she told me that story one day, a couple of weeks ago, when we were sitting by a fireplace waiting for the storm to end. It was a Tuesday evening, the electricity did not work so we were the room was only lit up by candles. Because of the cold, we decided to share body heat, so she sat in my lap and we had –"

"Okay, okay." Summer realized the story wasn't real. "They knew each other for years, actually."

"I didn't ask."

"You wanna know it."

"I don't."

"You do. Admit it, Dean."

"Nope." But there was no protest, no telling Summer Rae once again to shut up, or leaving the room to avoid hearing the story he supposedly did not want to hear.

"It happened back in Canada. They lived in the same city, attended the same high school. She was dating his friend. They weren't all that close, I mean Nate and Renee's then-boyfriend, but they attended occasionally each other's parties. So at one of these parties, Renee and Nate crossed paths and there was this, what you call, attraction."

"How old were they?" Dean asked, somewhat disgusted.

"Renee was 16 and Nate, I'm not sure, he's a bit older. I think he was a senior. They started hanging out, as friends, for the most part. Once they kissed while drunk, that was when Renee was still dating that other guy. They broke up, though, soon after that."

"Because of it?"

"No. I don't think so," Summer replied, but she wasn't a-hundred-percent sure. "Then Nate and Renee started dating. They broke up when he graduated. Just for the convenience. But they got back together a few months later. I guess it was never really a serious relationship. But, I mean, what can you expect at that age? Anyway, they broke up again in the summer before her final year."

"Why this time?"

"Nate's hockey career got in the way. He had to move away."

"So it that it? The great romantic story?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Not quite. They met again a couple of years later, when she returned to Canada. Of course they hooked up. But it didn't last long. . . . The distance," she explained. "Timing was never quite right."

"It isn't now either."

"No, you're right. It isn't. Distance remains. Plus . . . you." Summer said it as though it was an offensive word.

"They broke up a couple of times already."

"But they're together. No matter how many times they break up, no matter what gets in the way, they find their way back to each other. Isn't that nice? Sounds like soulmates to me."

"She cheated on him," Dean added something he considered relevant and very important. Especially because Renee cheated on Nate with him, what was meant to be an evidence of Dean's superiority.

"And they broke up. But he forgave her, they overcame it, and they got back together. Always find the way back to each other . . . Overcome all the obstacles . . ."

Now Dean was starting to develop a complex of inferiority. There was something about it. Something he did not like. Until now, he thought, he was sure, that what he and Renee had was special. As a result of the story of Renee and Nate, he came to question it.

"They met in January," Summer continued. "By chance . . . or maybe it was fate." The reason why she added that remark was clear; to make Dean mad. "They met in New York. When he found out Renee was single, he asked her out. At first, she was reluctant to start anything, but when he kept insisting . . . They made this rule to not take it seriously, not to expect anything."

Dean shook his head to clear his mind. "I don't care."

Summer dismissed Dean's seemingly fake statement. "Maybe it had something to do with you. Renee still had feelings for you, and she wasn't sure whether it was really over between you two."

"I am sure there are no doubts."

"Now there aren't. So they decided to take their relationship more seriously. Besides, how many chances you get? They already had a couple of missed opportunity so –"

"Summer! Summer!" Dean shouted. "Stop!"

But she wouldn't before making her point. "It's not about you and her anymore. It's about Renee and Nate. And you, you're –"

"An obstacle," Dean finished the sentence for her. "You're telling me this to stay away." That became clear to Dean. At first, he thought it was to make him realize he should get Renee back or something. Now he knew it was the opposite.

"Will you?"

Once again, Dean started to doubt Summer's intentions. He wasn't sure what was the response she wanted to hear. But it didn't seem that she was trying some reverse psychology on him.

"Don't worry. Right now I have other things on my mind than Renee. Other people, too. And this, this, what you're telling me now, your whole presence, is a distraction. I'm losing the match."

"You know the result."

"So what? Dammit, Summer, you never rewatch any matches? Seriously, less gossiping, more wrestling."

Dean stood up and arched his back to stretch a bit. When he showed no intentions in sitting down again, and instead started walking away, Summer said, "You're not gonna finish the match?"

"I'm hungry," he replied. "I'll go grab something and come back."

"Should I pause it for you?"

"No." Dean briefly looked at the screen. "I have about three minutes until the match's over."

"How do you know that?"

Dean sighed. "Oh, Summer." He could have given her a number of reasons, but he decided that a chuckle and shaking his head as a sign of disappointment would suffice. But before he left, he said to her, "Pause it."