A/N: I think the news that you've all been probably been waiting for has arrived! I am alas done with my classes for this semester thus; you know what that means, more frequent updates and the possibility of a new Dean Ambrose story that is sprucing up once I'm done with this. I'm hoping to be done with this story by July/August and then proceed with the new story, which I'll be sure to alert you guys and keep an eye out for it.

I think what motivated me to write this chapter was the fact that The Shield was so damn successful in Extreme Rules! Was I the only one tripping balls over it? I felt like the WWE read my fic or something because Dean ended up with a single-competitors title whereas Seth and Roman held the tag team belts. Either way! Enough rambling!

I just want to give you all, my new followers, and even those who've faithfully stuck to this story a grand thank you. I do check my emails, and even PMs and reading what you guy have to say about my story truly warms my heart up. Also a special thank you to those whom reviewed, meaning ashagaga, StephNexus, Livin on the EDGE, HalloweenBarbie, xSamiliciousx, ILoveAnime89, lilywhite25, oz-angel1, lovencrazy86, and KatieRose13. I love you all, honestly.

So heres Chapter 16 - just because Dean and Viv finally have established their relationship, it doesn't mean it becomes rainbows and glitter from there on out. So, let's proceed shall we?

I owe nothing that corresponds with the WWE. Please don't forget to review your thoughts.

Chapter 16: Screech.

"I don't understand you Nick, I honestly don't!" Dolph heavily sighed as he stared at his distressed partner once more rave in the locker room. News of Dean taking the week off managed to hit her pretty hard, she didn't know how to exactly act. She's handling worse than he did – after all he did help the girl that he holds feeling for locate the man she's actually interested in.

He hated being a nice guy. Well, nice to her at the least. It pained him to even being an ass – or to even pull stunts off like he did last time. Though it did satisfied those dark pits of his.

"And what do you want me to do April? Pull off one of your crazy stunts and just fuck everything up for Vivienne? No. I give a fuck about her, I want her to be happy. And I refuse to partake in any of your damn antics to fuck up whatever her and Good have going on." He was getting tired, and for once found himself other than worried – thanking Creative for pulling them apart.

AJ's feelings for him were based on the selfish, self-centered desires of having his attention solely on her, because she knew he wanted Vivienne. And now her attention has fully submerged itself into Dean Ambrose – for whom he's sure she's developed true, manic-like intense feelings for.

"That's what I don't fucking understand! You're nothing but a pussy Nick! You're letting the one girl you give a rats ass about be with someone else who can't even take care of her like you probably can! Dean is no good, never has been, never will be, and that's a reputation that has followed him ever since he's touched a ring! And you know that!"

Maybe she wasn't so crazy, maybe in a weird way she did make sense with whatever she was babbling about. A coward? He wasn't a coward…? He just respected her decision…? Her interests…?

Dolph only took hold of his headphones and placed them on his ears and began to block out the sound of AJ's voice. And even the voice in his mind telling her that in a sense, she was right. All he could do was worry; worry for Vivienne and even for Dean. AJ wasn't right in her mind. She was obsessed – with the idea of ruining the happiness Vivienne has, and having Dean Ambrose all to herself.

Ever since Dean decided to stay with her for the week – Vivienne alerted Dr. Frost that she wasn't coming in to work for the week – and much to his dismay, he understood as to why she wasn't showing up thus he didn't mind giving her the time to spend with Dean. And ever since the moment that the two have established how they stand – one would think things between the two would change – and although it did (in the sense they felt all the more self-assured regarding one another) they still treated one another the same, but a tad bit more affectionate – intimate to sort of say. Not in a suffocating, overbearing matter either, but just right.

After Monday they travelled to Cincinnati, where the two found themselves relaxing at the tranquility in Dean's home. Dean technically didn't live in the city; he lived a couple of minutes away from it. His home was stuck between urban and suburban lifestyles, so it was always interesting being at his side of the States. The silence of their surroundings did set everything at ease. It was Friday, December 6, 2013, the day before his birthday, and Vivienne found herself biting her fingernails. Not only was his birthday coming up, but also the day of their departure. Something that she's tried her best to not think of throughout the week, but the more she enjoyed the time her and Dean spent time seemed to have flown by faster. How dreadful was that fact?

Dean glanced down at the beauty that rested her head on his lap. He noticed the small freckles that seemed to be all the more noticeable with the auburn hair-color that Vivienne had now. The curve of her cupid bow and how her teeth would show every time she began to laugh at the Looney Tunes cartoon they had showing on Boomerang television. Her laughter was like that of a child, as though it was her first time watching this, though he's sure she's watched these exact same episodes countless of times throughout her childhood, and even adulthood. His fingertips only combed through the lush tendrils – it's something he noted she enjoyed to great extents as she would like a feline of the sorts purr silently.

Dean noted also that throughout the time he's spent with Vivienne – he hadn't heard the sound of that incessant screech he normally did. He wasn't sure what to make out of the sound, he couldn't understand as to what brings it up into his mind, but then again, it was obvious during times of distress it would bark at him. And when he's finally at ease, when he's with her, there's no sound, but the sound of silence.

At coming to Cincinnati the two didn't do much but stay at home seeing as winter has truly arrived early this year – the wind has been bitter, and stinging cold. The only sounds he's heard throughout the week are that of her moans, her laughter, and of course her voice when she professionally insults him. Even her screaming, because hell, she challenged him – and when he got her in some sort of submission - it was great seeing her and hearing her struggle. These were sounds he didn't mind so much, these were noises he appreciated it all the more.

Especially her moans, oh god, how he loved hearing her pant out, and cry out his name every time she came.

Vivienne pried her eyes away from the television as she propped one knee up and looked up towards Dean whom stared right down at her. His lips, slowly but surely curled into that infamous grin of his that seemingly enough manages to piss her off, and well, make her tingle deep inside. She couldn't help but smile, as she raised her hand to outline his jawline. She felt the trickles of his growing facial hair, and oddly enough that gave her slight goose bumps.

"Can't keep your hands to yourself huh Princess?"

"Shut up Jon, I really can't help it…" She muttered to herself as Dean slightly shifted his position, his face now close to hers as he lightly blew air to push back her bangs. Revealing those acidic hues of her – he was always fascinated at seeing her eyes. He knew those eyes of her truly spoke to true Vivienne, thus he always made sure to keep a lock on them. They enticed him, raptured his insides. Vivienne pouted; something that seemed to humour Dean as he only would lightly brush the tip of his nose against her own. It didn't suit her, not at all, but even her half-assed attempt to be somewhat cute to get on his nerves was adorable.

Adorable? Who would've thought Dean Ambrose would even process that word as a choice to describe his sentiments towards something?

"And there you go making that face again. Think ya got me figured out eh Sol?"

Vivienne only chuckled, her lips curved, her teeth were revealed as she chuckled. Damn that woman. He's noting every single detail about her. Even how her nose scrunches up when she laughs – it'… for fucks sake, adorable. Hell, even this close to her he could catch her natural musk. The vanilla, the cinnamon, the cigarettes and smidge of mint – little by little, he was taking in everything about her – yet this shouldn't surprise him, since day one of meeting her in that locker room, he noted the way her nose scrunched up while she barked at him.

"Maybe? A little bit at the least I'll like to think…" Her voice low, as she slightly pushed herself up, her lips hovering directly below his. This time her fingertips rested underneath his chin.

"I just hope you know who you're dealing with." He muttered, before lightly pressing his lips against hers. Vivienne didn't respond as she only smiled from the gesture.

"Are you threatening me, Jonathan Good?" Little by little, she didn't call him Dean anymore. He enjoyed that, to great extents.

"Take it how you want."

Vivienne didn't respond, instead this time she pressed her lips longingly against his own. He wanted to pull away, but somehow her lips tugged him deeper into the kiss. She didn't dare part for one second, as no longer was she rested on his lap, but this time shifted her position to straddle him. Quickly his arms found their way around her frame as he pulled her close to him. Hands underneath the oversized Metallica t-shirt she pulled out of his closet. Dean could only grin as he knew what was to happen.

His hands slipped underneath the shirt, cupping one of her breasts and teasingly passed his thumbs over the already harden tips. That resulted in Vivienne biting into his bottom lip causing Dean to jerk his head back and wince. He glared up at her, anger for a mild second flaring through him, but the bothersome sensation soon began to send waves of pleasure through him. A masochist indeed – and he noted Vivienne's expression hazed with humour and lust as she folded her arms over her chest. Slightly she buckled against his groin, causing him to shift underneath her.

Suddenly his pants became too tight for their own good.

"You're the fucking worst you know that?" He muttered as his hands took hold of her hips, and slowly began to sway her body to grind slightly against his bulging erection. She bit her bottom lip, oh, there – that's what wild him all the more. However her eyes shifted to the clock, it was 12:00 AM. No longer December 6, but now December 7th.

Vivienne unfolded her arms, and quickly removed her shirt, revealing her breasts to Dean who eyed them hungrily, as the hands that were once on her hips now clasped a breast.

He marveled the color of her skin, the curves, and how toned up her form was. Undoubtedly – like her brother she was a work-out buff. Vivienne only leaned her face close into his once more, as her tongue flicked itself onto his bottom lip.

"Happy Birthday…Mr. Good."

This was the day she dreaded. From last night, all the way until this very morning, she only bit her bottom lip as the two drove back to New York City. Regardless of her protests, Dean insisted on dropping her off home before he headed back on the road. Dean throughout the day didn't dare look at Vivienne right in her eyes.

Sitting in the cab ride, and arriving right in front of her building the hold she had on his hand never once loosened – if anything the closer they got, and by the time of the arrival to the destination, it had tighten. If he wasn't a sucker for pain, it would've surely hurt. After all, even her nails dug themselves into his skin, and glancing down at their hands, he knew that was surely going to leave a mark. Dean didn't want to part ways, he silently dreaded the day to come, and this Sunday where he knew he was going to do exactly what was going to happen right now.

At stepping out, with luggage in hand, he stared down at Vivienne, whom didn't even dare look up at him. She did everything but look at him. Look around at the neighborhood that looked dull with the once white snow that looks like tar now. She stared down at their hands instead, and Dean only sighed, as he would pull his hand away from hers. A painful move, but he had to snap her out of it. He had to leave. The ring was calling him.

"Sol…"

"Just go, okay? I'll be waiting for your call when you meet up with Colby and Joe."

"Sol…"

"The ring is calling Jon. Don't worry about me." Finally, she looked right up at him, those lush eyes of hers glistened with tears, but she didn't dare shed one. Instead, she cracked a smile – even if her lips twitched, but she beamed that infamous smile of hers. Dean shook his head, undoubtedly sure that the woman before her cared about his career as much as she cared for it.

He took her into his arms, as he then heard sniffles emit from her. She didn't shake however, as she slowly wrapped her arms around his frame. Vivienne only dug her nose deep into the wool of his jacket. She caught little hints of cologne, cigarettes and peppermint. She didn't dare shed a tear; she didn't want to part ways with Dean on such note.

She wanted to show him, and make him believe that he can trust in her being okay. Vivienne slightly pulled away, locking into those treacherous blues of Dean whom only flashed a broken grin, before he combed his fingers through her hair, causing her to quietly purr. He chuckled from her reaction and she only sniffled once more, shaking her head.

"I can't help it."

"Being a cat?"

"It's my profession on the side." Dean placed his fingers underneath her chin this time, as then his hands were placed on her cheeks. He pressed his forehead against hers. He wasn't sure on how to do this really. The times they ever split were on a bad note, or rushed, but he could take his time with this.

But yet the cab that waited for him beeped his horn – interrupting the thought of being able to not rush for once when saying goodbye to Vivienne. Vivienne caressed his cheek, as she then kissed the corner of his lips, making sure to leave a mark of her red lips on there.

"Have a safe trip."

"Can't make any promises…" He whispered – not wanting to kiss her directly on her lips for he knows his own lips would itch for the rest of the night, until the next time he would see her. And she knew that, for it was the same for her. And she only gave his hand one last squeeze, before she saw the back of Dean Ambrose, him enter into his yellow cab, and it drive off in the coldest winter she's yet to experience.

Vivienne's hands now clutched onto the suitcase, the free hand dug into the depths of her pockets searching for one of her cancerous sticks, and found herself thinking about last night.

"You're fucking killing me Sol…"

His breathing heavy, as she curled up into his arms. The air smelled like nothing but sweat, and the thick tantalizing smog of sex. Dean pushed aside the locks that clung onto her moist flesh away, revealing her face to him as she grinned up at him, lightly kissing his jawline and chin. His hands rubbed the leg that was over his own.

"Granted it's the best birthday sex you've had."

The smug look on her lips, almost like his own as he would suck his teeth. Vivienne looked up at him, and he down at her and he would roll his eyes – admitting that was fact. In reality, she was the best he's ever had. And that's possibly because he never really wanted anyone, until now.

"I've never actually wanted someone, until now, Sol…" He whispered, as he turned his body to face hers. His one hand kept hold on her leg, and his other gently combed through her satin-like locks. Vivienne's eyes slightly widen, unsure as to how to react from the confession she just heard from Dean.

Dean himself didn't know how to react to it. Honesty that is – he never was the type to be honest in regards to his sentiments. Instead he bottled them up, expressed them through the means of being Jon Moxley or Dean Ambrose. But here he is, as Jonathan Good, giving this thing known as honesty a shot.

"I never have given a shit about even knowing whoever the hell was in bed with me. I didn't give a fuck, not even about my damn self." He was now staring at the ceiling, at the slowly moving fan as he then glanced down at the woman curled up into his arms. He brushed aside those painfully annoying bangs, before she felt her fingertips against his lips.

"Shut up Jon." She finally spoke up. His eyebrow piqued in interest. "Fuck all that. At the end of the night, you got to know me. You know my name. You know what I like and dislike. Which is you." Those words always hit home, hit a part of him inside that didn't know exactly how to act. But it was there. "I'm what you need, and you're what I need. Alright?" Inwardly, she was shocked by her own notion. Unsure if it even made sense – but hopefully he got the gist of what she was trying to say from the last line. Dean only chuckled, as he now closed his eyes.

Vivienne kissed the nape of his neck, and she noticed the bits of goosebump that crawled onto his skin, she then slightly bit into his neck – withdrawing a wincing sound from Dean whom didn't give one of his normal reactions – which is to flip her, and submit her to his various levels of pain. Lovely levels of pain.

"You're such an asshole babe…" He muttered. There she heard the word, babe, and she found herself grinning like an idiot. God I must look like such a fucking idiot. Mentally she barked at herself. But Dean opened one eye, and noted the smile on her lips. He knew what he did, he had to reassure her, he had to make sure she knew where she belonged – right here in his arms. Alongside him. Being his. His girl.

"I don't know what the hell I'm going to do you."

"Just shut up, give me a fucking kiss, and let's not fall asleep."

"Deal."

She gave out a yawn, exhaustion hitting her hard as she snapped back into the reality where she realized that she did end up breaking night with Dean. Even on the plane ride they didn't dare fall asleep as much as their eyes struggled to remain open. But the reason of not falling asleep was simple, they wanted to stay awake to value each second they had together before parting ways. It was his idea, and as blunt, and almost crudely phrased by him, it meant a lot to her. It left her somewhat satisfied.

Staring at the entrance of her building, and down the snow-covered street Dean's cab went down. Vivienne bitterly sighed as the tossed her cigarette into one of the puddles of snow-water and headed inside.

"Happy birthday bro!" Both Seth and Roman greeted Dean whom arrived at the hotel many of the WWE Superstars were staying in Florida. The two exchanged a pound and quickly hug with Dean. Roman grinned at taking note of Dean's face. Though his eyes were beet red, the corner of his lips were smudged with a faded red – a marking he safely assumed belong to none other than Vivienne.

"Spent the birthday week with Viv huh?" Dean yawned, as he only nodded his head and walked into the room that he was going to be sharing with the three members of the Shield – well, former Shield. Roman glanced towards Seth, whom only shook his head lightly, an indication that Vivienne shouldn't be brought up. Roman was slightly surprised by the gesture from the behalf of Seth, however respected it seeing as it was rare that Seth would even respect matters in regard of his sister, and his stable partner.

"Are we officially done with?" Dean brought up another topic of dread, and the three all looked at one another.

"Yup. Heyman made the announcement, declaring the official deformation of the stable. Have you been reading the crap Creative has been sending your way? They've been biting our ass making sure you're getting what you're going to have to do this Monday Night Raw. Apparently it's crucial to establish you and Lee."

Dean only found himself sighing all the more at hearing these things come from Seth. Neither Seth nor Roman were excited with the news regarding AJ. Seeing as from firsthand account had witnessed the antagonizing means of Lee, and how she even dared tear Vivienne and Dean apart for her own selfish measures.

She was dangerous, unstable, and that's what worried Seth and Roman all the more – for those were things Dean was himself – ten folds if anything.

"I read it on the flight over here. It's complete bullshit really. All for the fucking sake of ratings? For fucks sake…" Dean slicked his hair back with his fingertips as he pulled out his phone from his pocket.

Gone to sleep. If I don't respond, you already know. So don't bite my fucking ass about it. You sleep too okay? You have a long day tomorrow. Hope you had a safe flight Jon. I don't know how to say it, but I miss you okay? Okay? 3

He sucked his teeth, in the middle of this discussion regarding AJ, and here he has to read probably one of the most oddest text messages he's received in his life – odd in the sense that he never really thought anyone would ever send him something close to sentimental. Let alone, he never thought he was going to involve himself in a relationship – and here he is.

I'm with Seth and Roman. I can't make any promises Princess. And sweet text messages aren't exactly your forte babe. But, I miss you as well.

And he didn't lie. He did miss her already; he missed feeling the warmth of her body by side him. Never did he feel so cold, until just now removing his jacket and sitting himself down on a chair. He looked around a big room realizing that it's just him, Seth and Roman. Vivienne nowhere to be spotted. The road was certainly empty without her.

"You have to be careful Jon."

He sucked his teeth. "She has to be careful with who she thinks she's going to fuck with. Because I'm not tolerating one single shit from April…Regardless of how real Vince, Hunter, and Creative want this fucking relationship between us two to look."

"Sheesh, that means even outside of the ring you guys have to…pretend?"

"But Viv-" Seth halted his words, realizing that Dean closed his eyes, and began to massage his temples. "I know." Was all he replied. Silence engulfing the hotel room once more.

She bit onto the cap of her pen, as she glanced down at the time on the computer screen before her. Back at work, 6:58 PM – and slowly she got up from her seat – making sure to save all documents and work beforehand as she then logged off from the computer. Behind her stood Dr. Frost who eyed Vivienne with curiosity for she continued to chew on the cap of the pen regardless of her standing up.

"Is something bothering you, Ms. Lopez?" Vivienne turned around, flinching almost from the sound of the doctor's voice. Her nerves have been on an all-time high throughout the whole day today. The slight notions of sound have managed to make her flinch, and she's been unable to keep her hands from shaking. She knew why she was reacting this way. Tonight – this Monday Night Raw was the Raw where they are going to establish the pairing of Dean and AJ. Something, although she knows its part of the protocol of the entertainment business – she's not exactly mentally prepared for it.

After all, she's going to have to bear with the fact that the two are more than most likely to shove their tongues into one another's throat.

"I don't think I'll be able to handle this whole thing with Dean and AJ – honestly speaking." She admitted as she began to wrap her burgundy scarf. With briefcase in hand, Frost only placed a single hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight squeeze. She glanced up at the doctor, whose personality matches that of an old man, but he's just two years older than her. The ones normally calloused blue pairings of Frost softened, as though he let those fortified walls down.

"You've handled worst Vivienne. Don't give up on what you've struggled hard to obtain." She almost choked on her own spit, for she was addressed by her actual name, rather than Ms. Lopez and Frost spoke to her on a note that wasn't his normally, bitter, gray realities – but like a romantic. And before she could even say anything in response, those eyes turned back to normal, and back were those walls he infamously held up high.

"You're fucking creepy man…" She started to say as the two stepped out of the office. It was a busy Monday – a lot of appointments were made for the week, along with the fact that a lot of people came in today. Hospitals such as Presbyterian and even Saint Lukes kept sending a lot of people their way. It was a hassle, seeing as its one man, one office. However, apparently, it's a man that gets his job done, successfully.

"But thank you."

"It annoys me seeing you biting shit you get your hands on. Completely unsanitary. Don't be a coward, and don't jeopardize the career of Jon because of how you guys stand. Remember that. I'll see you tomorrow." He didn't even give her a chance to reply for quickly he stepped out of the elevator and walked out into the cold streets of downtown New York. Vivienne stood there, in the elevator, slightly confused by what was going on. But only nodded her head, agreeing with the cold words spat to her by the doctor that seemingly enough his persona matches the last name.

Vivienne, are you okay?

I'll manage Nick. What's going on backstage?

Locker room is pretty eerie on the big unveil for tonight. A lot of them feel as though creative is doing this on purpose – for it was random. They think April did input the idea in to Creative.

Not a fucking surprise. And of course, they fed off it.

Enough of that. Good shit tonight. Your in-ring skills just get better and better huh?

Stop the compliments Vivienne. You're too much 3

Vivienne glanced down at her phone, and back at the television screen. An hour into Raw and her heart undoubtedly has been rushing throughout the show thus far. She knew it was coming. What made matters worse was the fact that Dean didn't write a single word to her. He didn't reply to the last message. Instead she gets responses from Ziggler, and direct comment notifications from her twitter which is blaring from the news of what is to come tonight on Raw.

Her 'fans' are truly getting a golden boost from it. After all, they can't stop writing how 'she's surely to lose Dean now to the likes of AJ'. And that of course wasn't really diminishing the insecurity that was washing and dawning upon her. She wanted to be confident in where she stands, but sometimes she found it difficult to remain self-assured when the entire world is trying to bring doubt to her mind. She sighed, combing fingers through her wild locks.

"Up next, we'll be having Dean Ambrose versus The Miz to determine who would be the number one contender for the Intercontinental Championship." Vivienne picked up her head just in time to see the picture of Dean's face, before it switched off to commercials. Of course, Michael Cole not failing to stress how the show doesn't stop, and to tune into the WWE Application to see more.

"Why should I care so much?" She paused as she grabbed her cell phone and began to finally wash away her fear from even touching Twitter and began to scroll through her timeline. Even her direct message inbox was filled with threats, and mockery but she only fed off it.

Soon her eyes followed the movements of Dean Ambrose, as then Raw started up once more and Vivienne only grinned. She loved hearing the crowd boo at him, of course they would – he's a heel – however they knew where talent lied. Dean was vivacious always in the ring, made sure to sell every move to the point it was believable – he brings liveliness to the ring; even with his odd persona.

He never failed to disappoint – and here he was making sure The Miz looked good throughout much of the performance. It bothered her, she knew that Ambrose could easily wipe the floor with The Miz – yet she only kept her faith high. After all, she was sure that Dean was scripted out to win tonight – even if The Miz seemingly enough had the higher advantage.

But, before she knew it, quickly blarred the theme song she dreaded to hear. Her eyes widened, as she saw her skip down the ramp, and circle her way around the ring. Distracting The Miz long enough for Dean to quickly take hold of Miz and planting his head into the ring with the Headlock Driver finisher. The crowd, enraged would only express their feelings of frustrations with the obnoxious boos, and Vivienne only felt her heart racing all the more.

She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She wanted to turn off her television, slip underneath the covers and pretend this was just some horrendous thunderstorm passing by. But, she couldn't pry her eyes off the screen. She had to see it for herself, see exactly what was coming and she knew. The Miz rolling out of the ring. And Dean eyeing her, staring directly at AJ with eyes that express nothing more but sheer curiosity – as then AJ crawled into the ring, and stood right before him. Vivienne felt as though her heart was clearly going to spit right out of her chest. But, even if her eyes sting, she didn't dare fumble.

Before AJ could skip her way out of the ring, Dean took hold of her, by the wrist. Withdrawing her close to him, and that infamous grin of his – that he flashed towards her on a normal basis was plastered on those lovely lips of his that her own hunger so. She shook her head, beginning to chuckle, as then what was the inevitable to happen – happened. The lips of AJ Lee, pressed against the corner of Dean. Causing havoc amongst the crowd, who began to boo all the more, began to mutter and wonder what the hell was going on. After all, AJ was still with Dolph.

Her lips quivered, but she continued to laugh, as then the urge to even proceed in watching Raw dissipated. She instead punched in random numbers on the remote control, landing somewhere on a movie from HBO as she fell back onto her bed, staring blankly at her ceilings. Tears did manage to escape from her eyes but she didn't dare crack a sob, or stop her laughter. It's his job, it's what he has to do. She heard her phone blare off, someone was calling her. She didn't even dare look who it was, without looking – as she then answered it.

"Yo?" She made sure her voice was solid and clear.

"Vivienne…" It wasn't who she hoped deep down it would be.

"Nick… What's up?" Even on the other line, Dolph could note the disappointment in her voice.

"Are you okay?"

"Never been better, why?"

"So you didn't see…" His voice trailed off. "I did," She bleakly answered, causing Dolph to almost choke on his own spit. But a part of him refused to believe refused to buy into her words. He knew she was lying – he knew this was all but an act at the moment. But he didn't wish to pry.

"Its his job. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Tell him to stop wrestling? I'll never. Wrestling before anything comes for Dean, and I, fully support that." There, she wasn't lying. Dolph detected the unshaken loyalty in the tone of her voice. He didn't know whether or not to be proud that the girl he's had deep sentiments for stands by her sense of morale, or upset that she does.

Couldn't her feelings be shook…? At least one more time, for him to have her in his arms, or her straddled onto him? Before Dolph could even part his lips to even speak to her once more, he heard the line go dead. He glanced down on his phone, bitterly sucked his teeth as he stared up at the screen backstage – staring at the show both AJ Lee and Dean Ambrose put on for the crowd which generated a great amount of heat.

"Fuck…"

Vivienne on the other hand only turned off her phone, shrugged her shoulders. She didn't want to hear a thing. But made sure to leave Dean a simple message.

Saw your match, it was great. I'm keeping my phone off, it's been ringing non-stop tonight. I'll call you in the morning, promise. So don't go ape shit on me alright?

Dean stared down at his phone – the back of his hand bitterly wiping his lips, hoping to remove any particle of AJ from him. Although he know this means business, this is part of his profession – he couldn't quiet grasp onto the fact that he had to even engage in a kiss with someone that wasn't Vivienne. Reading this message, he knew it was complete bullshit. At least the ringing non-stop part.

Nobody really did enjoy Vivienne's presence. In the sense that she was bitter, and that's what he liked about her in great extents – she cared little to none what others thought or had to say about her. Thus, she engaged in whatever the hell she wanted to. Dean – even at reading the message attempted to call, and surprisingly the phone did ring. It didn't go directly to voicemail.

And right when he believed alas she was to pick up, appeared before him the one, the last person if anything he wanted to see in the face of this Earth. AJ – whom held a smug look on that face of hers as she stood right before him. Causing Dean to press the power button of his phone, disrupting the call.

"What the fuck do you want now?" AJ attempted to reach towards his face, but Dean quickly evaded her touch, however AJ cornered Dean against a wall. As she stood right before him, fingertips tugging onto the hem of that infamous denim jacket of his. Since the stable broke up, he's been taking charge of his character at the least – going back to how he was at least in FCW.

"I think we made a lasting impression today, don't you think?" Dean remained quiet, not wanting to admit the fact that their little stunt did get a pop from the crowd. What he had in mind was the fact that he is positive Vivienne saw it all, and of course is somewhat, if anything, truly deep down bothered by the whole madness.

But he couldn't do much. Nor did he want to. Wrestling was everything to him. It was never going to change.

AJ rolled her eyes, noting the behaviour from Dean as she then shrugged her shoulders. "Remember what we are supposed to do. Act like it, don't fuck it up for all of us. For yourself. And for me." AJ turned her back, and before she did, she turned her head around. That sly smile never once shook from her. "And tell your little girlfriend, I say my hellos."

Before Dean could react, AJ was long gone down the hallways of backstage. Dean shook his head, unsure as how to react, or let alone do. He pounded his fists against the wall behind him, as he with much fury headed into the locker room. His own locker room now. He stared around, noting how empty it was. Without Seth, or even Roman.

He pressed his back against the door of his locker room and slid down against it as he now sat on the ground. The screeching sound little by little making its return, as he banged his head lightly against the door – he clutched his head, trying to make sure he distracted himself. But found little to none conclusions. The incessant sound was powerful, and of course didn't want to leave.

He heard AJ's voice, her laughter, and all of it appeared to be a pure mockery. He was certain now that this was all but a set up. But he couldn't care about that right now. He had to make sure to get this sound right out of his head. He had to make sure that in the end, he'll in a stable matter will be able to at least reply to that annoying message he received from Vivienne. Annoying in the sense that he was annoyed with the entire situation. She wasn't here with him. She was upset and she dared lied to him.

She wasn't here with him.

And he would begin to think. The sound of her laughter, her pearly whites contrasting with her vibrant red lips, the freckles on her cheeks and even on her back, her spinal tattoo, the sound of her moans, and the way she'll call out his name. How she'll call him Jon instead of Dean.

And the sound, little by little faded away.