Randy Orton's tour bus had pulled up to The Westin Crown Center hotel in Kansas City. He was a little more than 250 miles from his home on the lake in High Ridge, Missouri but due to the scheduling of the live events, he had been forced to stay in Kansas City. The plan would be to pull out early in the morning where he could relax within the comfort and privacy of his own four walls. He had enjoyed a nap in his luxury hotel suite and with just an hour or two before he had to be at the arena, he had just finished up at the gym. Rounding the corner, he wiped the sweat from his brow and stood waiting impatiently in front of the elevator. After what seemed like forever, it stopped on his floor and the doors pried open revealing a very familiar face.

"Randy?"

Randy stopped. At first he thought it was a fan but that soft, sweet, and distinct voice was way too recognizable to belong to a mere stranger. No, Randy Orton would know that voice anywhere.

"Sam?"

He looked up and found himself staring into the amazing set of eyes that belonged to his ex girlfriend, Samantha Speno. It was a surprise to see her and she looked beautiful in a fitted knee length, long sleeved purple dress. Her hair had been curled and her make up was perfect. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Hi. Oh my gosh. This…this is a shock. I, I didn't know the WWE was in town."

Randy couldn't stop staring. He had forgotten how pretty she was.

"Yeah, um, it's a house show," he cleared his throat.

"Oh," she nodded, uncomfortably shifting her small weight. "That, that's nice."

"Yeah…"

"So, um, I haven't seen you in a while. How are you? How have things been?"

"Pretty good."

Sam bit at her lip.

"I, uh, we haven't talked since you called me that night and you, you didn't sound good, Ran. I was really worried about you and…"

"It's fine," he dismissed things with a shrug.

"I know but the way you sounded…it really scared me. Anyway, you hung up on me. It's fine but…"

"Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"But you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he looked right in her eyes. "You, um, you look really great, Sam."

She blushed.

"Thank you."

"You look really happy."

"I am," she tossed her hair back.

"What have you been up to?" he tried to make small talk. "What brings you to Kansas City?"

An instant smile came to her face.

"There's a fundraiser here at the hotel tonight. I am super excited. We're trying to fund a program that is converting an old run down gym in St. Louis. We have plans to fix it up and make it nice and we have a bunch of volunteers that are going to teach a bunch of inner city kids dance and gymnastics in after school programs."

Randy nodded.

"That's cool. I remember you've been talking about wanting to do something like that for a long time."

"It feels like the more worthy a cause is, the harder it is to get off the ground. We did get some state funding but it's not enough so we're pretty much relying on charitable donations so far but I think it's going to be okay. We have almost reached our goal."

"Good. Good for you. You know if you ever need anything…"

"Thanks," she looked away. "I appreciate it but I couldn't ask…"

"I'm offering."

"Thanks. Any gift will really help the kids and that's what it's all about."

"I know how important this is to you. If it's important to you, it's important to me."

Sam studied his face. She knew him well. During their relationship she had gotten to know Randy as much as he let anyone get to know him. He was dark and complex, a man layered in depth and mystery. But in addition to his faults, flaws, and troubles, there was a good person inside of him. She had tried her best to bring it out and at times had succeeded but there was always that something that reeled him back in. The relationship had been tumultuous at best. When it was good, it was beautiful. Randy could be a caring boyfriend, witty and charming, sweet and protective. The memories of them cuddled on the couch or cooking together and picking out wine for dinner made her smile fondly in remembrance. But then there was the other side. When things were bad, simply put they were awful. With the flip of a switch Randy could become someone else. He had a hair trigger temper and was capable of fits of rage, spewing deadly venom at anyone in his path. Those were the memories that made Sam shudder with fear and disdain.

One night when the ballet Swan Lake, Sam's favorite, had come to St. Louis, Randy had flown in early from his work travels and arranged for a private theatre showing for just the two of them. Afterwards, he had taken her out for a romantic, candlelit dinner, followed by a horse and carriage ride through the city. That was the night she had fallen in love with him. That was the night she had gone back to his home and allowed him to make love to her for the first time.

Then there was the time that she had flown out to Dallas to surprise him in the midst of a long road trip. She had gone up to his room and had stopped dead in her tracks when she heard moans coming from the other side of the door. The voice belonged to a strange woman, a woman who was calling out Samantha's boyfriend's name. Horror and hurt consumed her and as if on cue, the door to the suite opposite of Randy's opened and there was John Cena. He looked just as shocked as she did and quickly ushered her into his room. Sam had tearfully told John what she had heard. Within minutes he disappeared, obviously as Randy's wingman, he took on the role of performing damage control. There was a knock on the door and a breathless Randy was on the other side, full of excuses about being asleep. He had finally convinced her to come back across the hall with him. The stench of sex filled the room but Randy had managed to explain that away by saying he had missed her and had ordered an adult movie and had masturbated earlier that night. Her head told her they were nothing more than filthy lies but her heart allowed her to be taken in by his smooth talking and mesmerizing blue eyes.

Another time they had been walking through an airport in New York when a fan had approached them for a picture. Randy, already tired and in a bad mood, had declined and the man was not willing to take no for an answer. He began snapping away and an irate Randy had attacked him right there in front of everyone, angrily grabbing the camera and stomping it into a dozen crushed pieces before adding insult to injury and punching the guy square in the jaw. Someone had captured the incident on a cell phone video recorder and the footage had been leaked across the Internet. It had taken Randy nearly a year to settle the matter out of civil court and he had barely ecaped criminal charges. That was the moment when Sam had realized that no matter how true or immense her love for him was, that it simply wouldn't be enough. She would never be able to save Randy from Randy.

"You look good…relaxed."

Randy smirked.

"You worry too much. You always did. I'm fine, I already told you."

"We don't see each other or talk a lot like we used to but you're still an important part of my life, Randy. I think about you often and I just want everything to be okay. A lot of time I have to keep up with you through the Internet."

Randy rolled his eyes. The dirt sheets were always full of news both fact and fiction.

"What are they saying about me now?"

Sam shrugged.

"Same old, same old. I heard about you and that new female referee. Supoosedly you trashed her belongings and spit on her. Randy that is horrible, that is a new low."

"I didn't spit on her. DiBiase threw my dip bottle at her."

"Well that makes it all better," she said sarcastically.

"Her name is Memphis and we didn't exactly hit it off when we met."

"Ran…"

"Okay, I was a douche bag. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of but I stopped and I did apologize and now we're cool."

Sam shot him a skeptical look.

"Well, that's good to know."

"Anyway, I know you said you had your thing tonight. I have to leave for work but if you're sticking around, maybe we could get together afterwards. I could take you out, maybe have dinner or get a drink."

"Randy, I can't…"

"Just an hour of your time. Please. I, I miss you."

His voice grew low. It was hard for the Legend Killer to be vulnerable with anyone.

"Samantha, sweetheart, there you are. I was looking all over for you."

Both Randy and Sam looked up at the other person who had just joined them. Sam looked mortified while Randy's jaw visibly clenched. It was Dean McDonald, Sam's fiancee.

"Dean," she forced a smile as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

Dean and Randy were now face to face and for the first time, Randy's attention briefly focused on the large diamond that adnorned the ring finger on his ex's left hand.

"Is everything okay here?" the thin, wiry man adjusted his suit jacket.

"You remember Randy Orton, don't you?"

Dean nodded and politely extended his hand.

"Of course I do. Randy."

Breathing through his nose, a red faced Randy finally accepted the gesture with great reluctance.

"Dean," he acknowledged tersely.

"Randy is in town wrestling tonight and we ran into each other. I was just telling him about the event," she explained.

"Small world," Dean nervously glanced around. "Anyway, it's almost time, sweetheart. We should get going."

"Of course. I'll meet you in the banquet hall."

Dean nodded and walked ahead, glancing back to make sure she was okay.

"I, um, I have to get going…" Randy pressed the elevator button.

"Randy, I'm sorry."

"It's cool."

She knew him well enough to know that no matter what he said, he was upset.

"Randy…"

He roughly jerked away from her touch.

"I said it's cool, Sam," he repeated in a much firmer voice.

She swallowed hard, recognizing that look in his eyes.

"I, um, I guess I'll see you around. It…it was nice seeing you."

"You too," he didn't bother looking at her. "See you around."

The elevator opened and he disappeared into it, letting the doors shut as he kept his back to her. The minute the car started moving, he exhaled. A barrage of mixed emotion fluttered inside him. Seeing Sam again had been so unexpected. It reminded him of how great she was and how much he missed her. It was also a painful reminder of how he managed to screw up every good thing that came into his life. Now she was gone and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Cursing out loud, Randy hauled off and let his closed fist pound into the wall, leaving a huge dent in its place. Adrenaline masked the pain but he didn't care. In a few hours he would walk out on that ramp to the adoration of thousands of loyal followers who thought he lived the dream life. But there was nothing perfect about his life. Randy was living a nightmare and it was all a product of his own doing.