A/N- I'm baaaaaaack! Miss me? No...okay ]:

Soooo sorry, I kinda felt so uninspired and LIFE tends to get in the way. I pushed through and created this! I actually like it, somewhat. Whatever, ya'll can be the critics...so, please...help a girl out by R&R. I missed this. PM me or whatever with comments all that good shit. I've caught up with Raw and Smackdown-GODDAMN, I LOVE MAD PUNK! Sorry for any grammar but I have this thing with going back lol.

"You act like the man ain't ever seen that shit naked." Sniggers Carlos while highfiving a laughing Jee

Opening and reopening my mouth, I fail on coming up with a quick remark, "Shut the fuck up!"

Bree comes over with a cigarette in between her index and middle finger, "You guys, come on…leave her alone." I smile at her, "Ya'll just jello that she's getting some on a daily basis." she adds starting up the laughter once more

My mouth drops, "My sex life…lack of one…isn't a topic for discussion!" I whine, "All I wanted was an honest opinion on my attire for tonight." I state with a pout

Calming down enough to speak, "We're just messing around; no need to get your panties in a twist, that's if you've got any." Speaks up Jee trying not to kill his straight face, "You're dressed to kill, Mar."

Traveling from toes to my chest, I find myself still feeling too plain. Draped in this simple forest green, ruched dress that Bree sneaked out of the house, I feel a bit too flabby; given the fact that I've put on more than just 'a couple' of pounds. You and your insecurities.

"You look like a center piece, Curlyfries. Pretty sure that white boy don't want to be holdin' onto a bag of sticks. Head up." voices Carlos from his place atop his desk.

Sending a weak smile, I nod. My hands fumble through Bree's makeup bag trying to find a mirror to touch up my makeup, "Here." says said woman, pushing a pair of faux peacock feather earrings in front of me, "Sterilized and ready to be utilized!"

With a brow raised, "Girl, you must not remember BUT curly hair and earrings are like oil and water…they don't mix."

Tapping the tip of my nose with her manicured nail, "Not unless said hair is in an updo, like it is now." she replies with a smirk. An eye roll later, peacock earrings are on, "Oh don't forget to ta—"

Vibrations motorboat my boobs, eyeing the caller ID, the corners of my lips turn up in less than a snap of a finger. A short text alerts me that Phil is about to arrive which sets free the caged butterflies in my gut. In matter of milliseconds, I'm in a frenzy trying to check myself, my pulse, and everything else.

Jee and Carlos smirk to each other and attempt to sneak out of the room, "YOU TWO..." I snap, and they wince, "BETTER NOT DO SOMETHING OR SAY SOMETHING!" I warn them.

They rush by leaving me with an all too relaxed Bree, who just sits on Carlos's desk smoking her cig, "Baby, calm your tits…you look like a modern-day princess."

Snatching her cig, I take a puff and give it back, "I haven't been on a date with somebody else other than…you-know-who…in years!" I cry

Handing me my flats, "Like Casanova said, ya'll have seen each other butt-naked…nothing to worry about. You could go out in a potato sack and he'll still want that ass." hopping of the desk, she takes hold of my shoulders and nudges me towards the parlor's work floor, "Slip on the flats once you know you're about to collapse…and have fun!" she peps

Blinkers momentarily blind me letting me know that the one and only Punk is here and waiting. Biting my lip and playing with my sweaty hands, I cautiously approach the guy as he chats up my two friends.

May I repeat, I love when men dress-up. I don't just love it…it makes me wet! Sucia. It's true, though. Running my eyes over Phil, up and down, down and up… I can hardly breathe, barely contain my saliva. Boy just stands there with a bouquet of my favorite colored roses, wearing a leather jacket that hides his fitted set of dress-shirt and grey vest and the whole deal.

"Seems like your little date has finally emerged, Punk." announces Jee teasingly

Shaking my head, I send him the bird and quickly navigate my hand in an attempt to look like I was just fixing my hair as Punk turns around.

Both of us just stand taking in each other not quite sure what to say. That is until an exaggerated coughs bring us back to life, "It's getting a bit late, youngins…best be on your way." says Carlos as he ushers us out the parlor, "Don't come home too late…and use rubbers!" and with that the Cali native closes the door on us.

My forehead greets my hand, "He really needs a muzzle." I mumble through my embarrassment

Punk chuckles, "I like the dude." an air of awkwardness breezes through, "These are for you, mademoiselle." He says handing me the bouquet, "May i say, you look…wow." he finishes off

Smelling the roses, "Didn't think you'd remember…" I whisper to the wind before paying him attention, "Me? Ha…you clean up well, Mister Punk." I reply trying to soften out the awkwardness

"Give credit to the stylist…I feel like I'm punching above my weight with you looking all…" he shoots me a suspicious look, "You sure you ain't going on this date because of pity?"

"Wow, never thought I'd see the day that Phil Brooks would lack arrogance."

Snorting, "Confidence, cutie, and it's a once in a lifetime thing, sweetcheeks." he moves towards the rumbling muscle car and opens the passenger, "Your carriage, madam." he ushers with a bow

Smiling at his playfulness, "Why...such a fine gentleman you are." I joke

"The ball awaits us, Cinderella!" and with that we're off in unknown direction. Unknown to me…

Streetlight upon streetlight passed us by until we landed ourselves in the grand city of Chicago. My gut feeling tells me that we're going to pass by that damned place, one that scarred both of us physically and mentally. When we don't head that way, I open my eyes and focus on being worry-free...for tonight at least.

Wes's cherished car comes to a halt, settling in between two expensive looking SUVs. Lifting a brow, "What you got up your sleeve?"

Nothing comes from my date except a sly smirk. He opens his side door, runs over to mine and gives me his hand, "Watch your step, God only knows how you women walk in those."

Rolling my eyes, I hide my flats under the seat and grab my clutch, "He should, he made us second for perfection." I reply with a tiny chuckle

"It does show..." replies Phil thoughtfully. Giving me a second thought, "We're going to walk a bit..." he takes off his jacket, "It'll keep you warm, somewhat." he comments holding it out for me

Those damned butterflies emerge once more tinting my cheeks with a blush, "Where'd all this come from?" I ask putting an arm through

"Mm, watching sappy romantic movies? I excel in being a hopeless romantic as well as being a gentleman." he answers with that panty-wetting crooked smirk of his. He intertwines our hands beginning to walk to our destination.

Stopping him for a moment, I lean up to kiss her cheek and whisper, "You'd be surprised where being a gentleman could lead you..."

Eyeing me with a mix of knowing and confusion, "You trying to imply something...else?"

Smirking, I strut ahead, "Take it how you want it."

"You're a fucking tease, Marleene!" he shouts as he runs up behind me and spins me around making me squeal.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Giggling amongst ourselves, Phillip declares that we have arrived. Cocking my head at the sight in front of me, I can't quite tell if he's joking or what. Dragging us forward, Phil opens a door for me and leads me in. Scratching my head, I look around at the atmosphere and feel out of place. We've entered a restaurant that goes by the name of Florence which by the name and smell is obviously Italian. Furthermore, this is one of those more fancy, upper-class restaurants. If I know anything about the world, people like me don't belong here unless we're escorts or sugarbabies.

Stuck in the walls of my mind, I fail to realize the young man talking to me. Punk waves a hand in front of me, "Huh?" I blink

"While you were in Lala Land, I was just introducing you to my friend, Bruce."

Shooting my date a warning glare, I stick out my hand, "So sorry, hopefully dumdum didn't speak lies..." I laugh nervously, "I'm Marleene, by the way."

This Bruce man is not so bad on the eyes, he has an adorable smile, "So you're the Marleene this jerk has been babbling about for the past couple of weeks!...I'm Bruce, nice to meet ya." he shakes my hand

Turning to Phil, who is mouthing something and shaking his head, "What have you heard?" I mutter

Nervous chuckles come from the man, "Nothing, just how beautiful you are...and everything in between. By the way, that little number you did on him gave the workout gang a good laugh, thank you." WHAT?, "You got him hooked." It's now Phil's turn to glare at his friend, "Not too sure as to why'd you want to reel in this buffoon, though." he laughs as do I, "On a serious note, I've never seen Punk so...how should I put it? Enticed...well not counting Ma-"

Pulling me into him, "YEAH...or perhaps I just swooned her with my chivalrous, gentleman ways..." he shrugs kissing my temple

"Who says I've been swooned?" I ask feistyly earning myself a chuckle and frown

"ANYWAY...Bruce, my man, you think you can hook us up?" asks Phil with those undeniable puppy eyes of his

Checking the coast for clearance, "You're in luck, we just had a couple cancel...so you guys just act like Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom." Phil and I just stare each other and burst into giggles, "I know, I know-that's how I reacted too." comments Bruce, "Follow me, please."

Following the tall man's footsteps as we pass by the dining room filled to capacity, it seems, I smack Punk in the arm, "You asshole!" I spit

"What'd I do?" earns him another smack, "Hitting men is still considered abuse."

"No fucks are given...your happyass told THEM about our stuff!" I exclaim loud enough to alert the clients around us. Hushing myself, "What in the fuck, Phillip?"

Putting his hand on the small of my back to help me up the stairs, "They saw that shit in the showers, what'd you expect?" I frown not wanting to face defeat, "I've yet to tell...well, I did kind of kiss-and-told Colt BUT-"

I whoosh around almost falling to my death, "YOU TOLD HIM?" my voice comes off as a shrill, "My God, PHIL!" stomping my way up the stairs wanting to just disappear. Things will never be same between Colt and me...

Reaching the last step, Punk speaks up, "Oh come on, it's not like you haven't told anybody..." he gives me 'the look'. Wide-eyed, I stumble and stutter over words. Caught red-handed... Lowering my gaze, I admit defeat, "Exactly." he says triumphantly

Mousing around various tables full of chattering parties and the like, we finally stop at a table set for two, the glassware and candles and all. Our host tells us that he'll be sending a waiter, says 'Bon Appetit', and winks at me as he leaves. Attempts to leave but the indie-wrestler holds him back to whisper something to him which earns him a questioning look and a nod...then the hostess leaves.

Holding out the chair for me, Phil gestures for me to sit. With a curt 'thanks', I plant it. The guy settles himself in and we sit in silence, well I sit in annoyance by what I just learned of, "Mar, you can't honestly be all that mad? You're gonna get wrinkles, girl."

I huff and pick at my fingernails, "It just bothers me...call it whatever but kissing-and-telling differs between men and women."

Punk laughs to himself, "You act like a defiled you! All I told the kid was what went down..." he moves loose strands from his eyes, "No details. None. Zip. Zero. Just mentioned, I'm going to sound like either a perv or creep, that it was how I dreamed it would be."

"Oh..." I mumble down casting my eyes to observe my simple black heels, "He won't let me live it down...ever, will he?"

"Pretty much. At least he hasn't pestered you, look." he shows me a couple of texts of dear old Colt that make me blush beyond belief, "Yeah."

"Is it true? I've got you enticed, big boy?" I ask coyly

Growing up the lower middle-class, barely that, my family and I scarcely ever dined out and if we did...we'd just head out to some taqueria. Something so plain as that meant so much to me because I'd get to spend time with my family, especially my dad who spent most of his day and afternoon working. A dollar away from being poor and yet were happy...or tried to be.

Sitting here in this room full of important looking civilians, in a luxuriously decorated dining room with a dancefloor illuminated by a grand chandelier, siting on handmade chairs, using cutlery worth more than all my grandma's china put together, eating mouthwatering food, in the company of the young lad in front of me, I wonder how in the world I'd gotten here-and of course how will we pay this shit off.

"You're rather quiet..."

Taking a morsel of food off my plate, I eye it down, "Just...I feel awkward." I laugh awkwardly, "This is above and beyond...The fanciest joint I've been to is Maude's-a freakin' bar."

Wiping excess food from his mouth, "You seem to blend in well...almost have that air of rich bitch to ya'." he replies, "I, on the other hand, look like a male escort...", boy winks my way and I feel like my panties have burned off.

Opening my mouth to reply with a pinch of flirt, the maitre'd pops up as if out of the blue-her name's, Alicia...another of Punk's friends. Story is that they were in training together and lived with each other for some time. Letmme just say, I don't mind women being around him-he ain't marked territory- as long as their intentions are innocent. But, damn...Alexa is far from 'just being friendly'. Might as well smother Punk with her tits! I mean the girl bends over so over-exaggeratedly! Not only that but also, she giggles at every-fucking-word the man speaks as if he's Katt Williams or some bullshit, flipping her ratchet ass weave like it's graceful. Stupid, big-titty bitch! Much to my discontent, Phillip bites into it.

Having enough of this, I tap her ass making her squeak and turn my way, "Could you stop trying to feel up on MY date? Do your job and get us some cider...any cider." when she death glares at me, I smile toothily, "C'mon now...chop, chop!"

Flustered, she saunters off leaving behind an amused Punk. Full knowing smirk and gleam in his eyes, "Somebody's jealous" he jibes proudly

Almost choking on my water, "Oh please...sweetums, if you want that, by all means, go get it. I'll switch places." I suggest sarcastically

He splutters with laughter, "You're something...really."

"I was about 2 or 3 when my parents decided to get me all holyfied-meaning, baptized-so they threw a big ol' cookout and invited the entire family. As a tradition at every Mexican kid party, a pinata is always included. So they, the kids, wanted to bust that motherfucker opened and well...being the selfish toddler I was, I took that pinata hostage." Punk bursts into laughter, "I fell asleep with Nico and when I woke up...he was in bits all over the ground."

Punk at this point is tapping his hand on the table, "Such a good pinata, he was."

Halfway through dessert and we've been drinking our cider and recounting old memories...the kid years. Somewhere between our second course we fell into this light conversation and banter; which has done a great deal to lighten our somber looking faces and cleansing our souls of all things negative. Feels like the old days...his laughter, everything.

"Selfish or what?" he asks and I stick out my tongue, "Um...oh! So when I was 5, I'd just gotten my first ever comic and crush. Her name was Shirley. Well story goes from thinking to acting...I gave the girl my comic as some signal of my interest." my eyes soften up at the cuteness of young Punk, "Cooties and that bull were in and I honestly thought she'd just throw it back in my face, but to my surprise-she didn't. Instead, she hugged it out and gave me a peck on the cheek." he shakes his head thoughtfully, "After that year, she moved...didn't hear of her until years later when she passed away from Leukemia." my face fell a tad bit, "Alicia gave me this..." he pulls out his wallet and digs around and takes out a folded paper, "said Shirley saved it." handing it over to me, "Call me a cheese but...I treasure it, she was a nice girl-the first of many to want a piece of this." he jokes

Facepalming, "You're lucky that this is so cute. I am sorry about her, though."

Taking the treasure paper back into his wallet, "That's just the way life is, doll."

For a brief period, we just sit back listening to the big band play away making most of these skeletons rise and sweep away their dust all over the marble dancefloor.

"In the beginning of all of this mess that has surrounded me, I didn't ever think I'd be here with you...Much less leave the crib. I'm not going to lie, my bones still chill whenever I think of him, my eyes water sometimes just remembering what used to be-when Wes was around, bullet wounds and scars still pulse with pain, some days I just feel like giving up...but I don't know...today has revived me..." I speak up still watching those laughing, giggling skeletons, "Thank you."

A chair glides over next to mine, Phil sits by my side, "Letting me in now, are ya'?"

Smiling, a real genuine one, "You could say that." i turn to face him, "I'm not just saying that because I'm corny...or feel it necessary, Punk." i kiss his cheek and feel it quiver slightly beneath my lips and pull back to see the one and only Phillip Jack Brooks fighting his male ego. Oh my...he-he's gonna cry.

Hiding his face away to hide his emotions, we sit next to each. Looking in different directions with my hand holding onto his as if the floor would eat us if I didn't. My own instincts bite at me and makes me pull him into an awkward yet intimate hug, "Let it out...let it out." I whisper and out comes the things, words, feelings he so much needed to set free-his burdens.

In between a sea of dancing rich folks, we find ourselves having the time of our lives. Pretty much making ourselves look like idiots with no dance skills but whatever. Laughter and the like erupt from our mouths and onlookers either smile at us youngsters or look at us with disgrace.

Spinning into Phil's arms and slowing down to slow dance, I grin up at him exasperatedly, "You got some moves on you, I see." I comment snaking my arms around his neck

"Man of many talents, little one." he replies smugly, nuzzling his nose into my hair

Giggling, "Took me forever to get that shit perfect...don't mess it up!"

"I don't care!"

Those tatted arms of his engulfs me, our bodies meshing-fitting together like puzzle pieces sending shockwaves through my body. We sway to the soft beat, enjoying the comfy silence between us. All around me couples young and aged chatter, kiss, whisper to their companions...some might just be whores and golddiggers.

Tilting up to have a good look at the man engulfing me, I ponder many things at a time. We were good toge-we could be so good together...why do I even try to ignore it? Hands moving South of the Border bring me back in. Grinning with a sly glint in my eyes, I move up to kiss his neck. Goosebumps breakout on the skin where my lips ghost over, "How about we dip out of this joint?" I suggest through half-lidded eyes hoping he'll get the drift.

"As you wish." he replies and with that we disappear from the dancefloor.

Being close to 2 in the a.m, I stick to Phil like glue to paper. My legs and everywhere else shiver because of the breeze even through the leather jacket. We've walked for what seems years but really just 15 mins. Prior to leaving, Punk gave the car keys to a smirking Bruce and now we're here walking along closed shops.

"You planning to tell me where we're headed?"

Punk purses his lips and squints in deep thought and then quickly drags us to the front of a pizza place. We slip through a steel fence door and a side door. My fears heighten just being in a rundown hall. The ever mysterious Punk presses something into the wall and shazaam! A wild elevator door appears.

"Ladies first..." he says ushering me in.

"Please tell me that you're not part of a Satanist clan." I whisper scared out of my mind

He just chuckles and hugs me. The doors open revealing Heaven. Well, close to it...It's a loft looking home. Fit to cater to celebs or some shit. My lungs deflate, "Follow me." he says quietly amused by my reaction

Holding his hand we pass by a kitchen dressed down to looking like something out of a cooking show: the island, hanging pots, and set of dishwasher, trash-things-Chef's heaven. Through the kitchen and into what appears to be a living room with the most ginormous window I've ever seen. Magazines litter the coffee table that's set between leather couches. A plasma hangs of the wall filled with a mosaic of photos.

"C'mon, doll" and I try to hide my awe

Up some cool looking stairs we go, up on top a long hallway with doors on each side. We reach the 3rd to last, Punk swings it open and if I'm not dead yet...now I am.

"Are we breaking and entering?" I question dumbly

Punk chuckles, "Nope, this is where I plan on living once I have shit under my belt.
He must have something in his system. The room consists of cream colored walls, tan carpeting, a stone fireplace with bookshelves, a bed that looks so very comfortable draped in turquoise sheets and shit. Punks leads me in and I want to cry, there's a crawl space-like space that lets one over look the rooftops and skyscrapers miles away.

"What you think?" whispers Phil, in that tone of his that reminds me why I wanted to leave Florence, as if he doesn't see my facial expression. Just blinking at him, he smirks, "Kinda chilly I'm turning on the fire."

"Who's house is this?" I ask slowly peeling myself out of my dress...revealing a set of silver cheetah print of panties

"It's a surprise...no wo-ow!" he grunts rubbing his back.

Concerned, I pad over and touch his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head, "Just sore from the workout...this...mo-woah..." his train steams by at the sight of my half-nakedness

Pulling him up and undoing his buttons one by one, "Maybe I can help you with that..." I say slyly

"Maybe...or I can relieve all that stress." he suggests pressing his lips to mine. My brain starts to shut off as I back him over to the bed until he is splayed on it.

He tries to speak but I just straddle him, "Letmme take care of you, Punk." his breath comes long and ragged as I nibble on his lobe, "I want to..." I whisper breathily running my hands, fingertips gliding over his half-bare chest, "Relax, big boy..."

Dark olive greens challenge but give into my icy greys...