Memphis hummed to herself as she struggled to stuff her clothing and shoes into her suitcase. Kansas City had marked the end of another fun but exhausting road trip. Instead of flying back to Long Island that night, she had elected to stay in Missouri. The plan was for her and Punk to have a quiet and romantic night together, unwinding before each would respectively catch a plane home to Chicago and New York. There would be a brief two day break and then it would be back on the road. She had been able to leave the arena almost immediately but her boyfriend hadn't been so lucky. An emergency post production meeting had been called and he and the other commentators and announcers had been summoned. He had promised to be back at the hotel within the hour but the clock was ticking and there was still no sign of his return. Just as she folded the last of her belongings, her cell phone buzzed and she checked the incoming text message.

Still tied up. Eat without me. Be back soon. Love ya.

Memphis checked the time. It was late and she was starving. It was no telling what time he would be back so she figured it best to grab a quick bite then wait for him inside their room. Not in the mood for pizza, Chinese or any other local take out, she ventured downstairs to see what was available. The hotel's star restaurant, Benton's Prime Steakhouse had already closed and it was only one hour to closing for the far more casual lounge located in The Brasserie. The bar was pleasantly empty so Memphis walked up to the bartender and smiled.

"Can I help you ma'am?"

Memphis briefly skimmed a menu.

"Gosh, I am so hungry. Can I please have a Bison Burger cooked medium well and a Cobb Salad and whatever you recommend on tap?"

"How about a Boulevard Pale Ale, brewed here in Kansas City?"

"Sounds great."

"Have a seat and your food will be right out," the handsome bartender winked.

In a minute she was sipping on her beer quietly waiting for her food. It wasn't until she glanced down at the end of the bar that she saw two massive and completely tattooed arms. In his right hand was a shot of something.

"Randy?" Memphis stood and scooted into the seat next to him.

He didn't even bother looking at her.

"What's up?" he asked flatly.

"Nothing much. I thought that was you. You're kind of hard to miss. Anyway, I was waiting for Punk to get back and I came down to get something to eat. How's it going?"

"It's going," he still stared staight ahead.

"You had an awesome match tonight."

"Thanks," his voice was still void of emotion.

"Tough crowd you are," Memphis joked. "Are you okay?"

"Look, I'm fine," he finally turned to her, jaw taunt and blue eyes icy. "What do you want?"

It was a glimpse of the old Randy Orton, the one who had tormented her. The sudden switch unnerved Memphis. Biting her lip, she knew it was best to just let him be.

"Sorry I bothered you. You look like you're having a bad night. I'll just leave you alone."

She stood and he cursed under his breath.

"Memphis, wait," he called after her.

She stopped.

"Randy…"

"Sorry I was a dick. You're right, I'm having a bad night but that's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

She let out a breath. At least he had apologized and his facial expression had softened considerably. Memphis reclaimed the seat next to him.

"It's okay. We all have our bad days."

"I guess."

"Anything you want to talk about? I mean, I know we're not exactly close or anything but I am a good ear."

She smiled warmly at him and when he didn't react, she figured she had gone too far and it was no use.

"Another shot of Jack," he nodded at the bartender before sighing and briefly looking over at her. "I, um, I was supposed to go back home tonight. I live right outside of St. Louis but my goddamned bus broke down."

"That sucks. Can they fix it soon?"

"Not until tomorrow."

"Why don't you just rent a car and drive home? It's only a couple hours drive away, right?"

He shrugged.

"I could but I'm pretty much wasted right now."

He emphasized his comment by downing another shot.

"Okay, don't you think you want to slow down?"

"I already booked a suite upstairs."

"Oh okay. Still hangovers suck and I speak from experience on that one."

He ignored her.

"The hotel pissed me off. I tried to book a room on the seventh floor but there was nothing available and those assholes wouldn't bump someone for me," he grumbled.

"That wouldn't have been fair, especially if people were already in their rooms. Besides what is it about the seventh floor? Is that your lucky number or something? Do you have a favorite room here?"

"Nope," he shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

Randy took a swig of beer.

"My ex is staying here, room 706," he stated matter of factly. "I was trying to get the room next to her."

Memphis frowned.

"Is that a good thing? I mean, it sounds kind of weird, no offense."

"She's here with her new fiancee."

The bitter tone was not lost in his voice.

"Ouch. That's not good, huh?"

"He's a lawyer. A skinny, geeky, stiff loser tool. I hate fucking lawyers."

"Watch it," she ribbed him.

Randy smirked.

"Present company excluded, I guess."

"Well thank you. Anyway, care to elaborate more on this super creepy threesome? Do they even know you're here?"

"Yep. Ran into her earlier. She is here for a charity event. She is a dance and gymnastics instructor and she has been trying to start this program to teach the arts to underprivileged kids for years."

"Well that's a great cause. Sounds like a wonderful woman. What happened?"

"I ran into her and we talked. And then he showed up and I left and that's pretty much it."

"Yikes. Well, you seem kind of upset. I'm sorry. Break ups are tough, especially if they're bad."

"She left me," he blurted out.

Memphis played with her frosted beer glass.

"Why?" she treaded carefully.

It was still surreal having ultra personal interactions with the man who at one time a short period ago had been her nemesis. Still she now felt oddly comfortable in his presence and there was something about him that intrigued her and vice versa.

"She says I cheated."

"Did you?"

"Yeah," he replied honestly. "And she said I had a temper and that I had too much going on and wasn't ready for a mature relationship, as she put it."

"Well considering what you've told me and what I do know about you, at the risk of pissing you off, wouldn't you say that she is at least a little bit right?"

"I guess," he shifted on the stool. "It…it was just weird seeing her again."

"Seeing her or seeing her with someone else?"

"Both."

"Do you still have feelings for her?"

"I don't know," Randy sighed. "Honestly? I don't think about her that much anymore. We have talked some since we broke up and most of the time I just end up being more of an asshole to her. I just block it out like it doesn't matter but seeing her again…it just kind of hit me."

He was looking straight ahead but still he was opening up. The words describing his innermost feelings poured out as the hard liquor poured in.

"Well it sounds like you really care about this person. Unfortunately regret is a part of life. We have to live with that and regret sometimes is about the things we've said or done and sometimes the things we haven't said or done. I don't know what happened between you two and its really none of my business but you purposely trying to book a room next to her and her fiancee probably isn't the best way to make amends. I mean, what would she say about that?"

"She wouldn't like it."

"Then why would you try to do it on purpose?"

Randy shrugged again.

"To get a dig at her."

"Randy, come on. That isn't cool. That's really immature in fact."

"I don't care. Honestly, I don't care how Sam feels right now. If she's bothered, so what? And she's really gonna flip tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow? Oh gosh, what did you do?"

"I wrote a check to fund her little project. Twenty grand was the exact number needed and I made it happen."

"Holy shit," Memphis spit her beer out. "Dude, that is a lot of cash. I mean, at least it was for a good cause."

"Whatever. It'll make her feel like shit. She'll be uncomfortable and that pussy she is about to marry will probably blow a gasket."

Just the thought brought a sinister grin to Randy's lips.

"So you did a good thing for a bad reason?"

"You could say that. If that's how you want to think about it."

"It doesn't matter what I think. You're the one that has to live with it. But it might make you feel good for the moment but in the end what does it really do? It won't change things between you and Sam, is that her name?"

"Oh well. Sam can do whatever the fuck she wants."

"But why hurt her if you care about her so much? I don't understand."

"It is what it is. She gets her little charity project funded but every single time she walks through those doors she'll have to think of me. I really loved that girl. She doesn't believe it."

"You're just hurt," Memphis said softly. "Mad and hurt. I get it."

Randy chuckled.

"Don't get all sentimental on me. I'm not that guy."

"You can be. There is a good guy, a sensitive and sentimental guy lurking around inside The Viper."

"Being soft with people is how you get burned."

"I can dig that. I don't have the greatest relationship track record. Punk is probably the most stable thing I have going on with a guy, probably ever."

Randy laughed out loud.

"Good old CM Punk. I don't know what you see in that guy. He's such a douche bag."

"You don't know him, not like I do. He is intelligent and kind and funny. He doesn't always show that side to people but I gave him a chance and he gave me one."

"To each his own, I guess but for the record, you can do better."

"And so can you. I'm not talking about Sam either. I'm talking about you can do better by being a better guy like I've seen you try to be."

"I'll be just fine."

He was as stubborn as he was complex.

"Look, I'm no psychologist and I'm damned sure not in the position to give advice. God knows I'm not perfect. You and Sam are over and it blows and it sounds like you both hurt each other and now you've moved on. It was painful and unexpected running into her and you've had all night to dwell on it on top of your bus breaking down. You pulled a couple of prick moves but it's done now, right? And now you're sitting in a hotel bar drinking your troubles away?"

"What else is there to do in this godforsaken town?"

Memphis smiled.

"I've buried my sorrows in a few bottles a time or two. I'm not judging."

"You want a shot of Jack?"

"Jack and I are not friends."

"It'll put hair on your chest."

"My chest is just fine, thank you very much."

"Two more shots for me," Randy summoned the bartender. "And one for the lady."

The bartender returned with the shots and Memphis' food.

"You're a bad influence, Orton but I'll tell you what. This burger is absolutely huge. Split it with me and I'll do a shot with you. You probably need some food in your stomach to go with all that alcohol just swimming around in there."

They cut the burger in half and took a bite. Memphis giggled as some of the sauce dribbled on his chin. She handed him a napkin and he wiped it away before they clinked shot glasses.

"How about a toast?"

"To lonely hearts?"

"And bitch ass lawyers."

"Hey!"

"Present company excluded, I said," he grinned. "Relax."

They took their shots and smiled, continuing their talk about lighter subjects. Pretty soon it was just them and the bartender as the minutes ticked away. He allowed the two WWE celebrities to take their time and the pair was oblivious to the world around them, including the fact that a stone faced Phil Brooks was watching from the lounge entrance.