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Thursday 28th July 2011
"Here are the tickets you wanted, and the decaf coffee for you, espresso for you Kofi," Phoebe placed the contents onto the table, Punk retrieving his cup without so much as a thank you.

"You don't have to get me coffee, Phoebs, but thank you – this kofi sure is good," he winked at Phoebe, an inside joke that didn't go unnoticed by Punk as he glared at Kofi.

"You can go now, I'll let you know if I need anything else," Punk spoke bitterly, watching Phoebe go until whipping his head round back to Kofi.

"Really?"

"Don't "really" me Punk, Mike isn't here – what's your problem man, she's just doing her job and you're treating her like – "

"Trash? Crap? Shit? Yeah I know, and she needs it, she needs to toughen up. She's a college graduate that's probably had everything handed to her on a silver platter, god knows how she's gonna survive in this place. Paul tells me she wants to be a creative writer, like that's gonna happen. She's gonna soon realise what it's like around here, and she needs to be prepared for when she gets the boot. The pipebomb was supposed to open people's eyes about this company, I just hate - "

"Suits? She's not a suit Phil, you don't even know her and you haven't even bothered. She's a fan, just like us and the people in that arena."

Kofi's voice was soon drained by the blaring music that came from Punk's headphones, lost in his own thoughts - a lot of people thought he was hard on Phoebe, but he didn't think so. If she wanted to make it in this business she needed to toughen up her skin, and despite the countless times Punk bitched at her for doing something wrong, or for her being late, she still looked like she was ready to cry, so clearly he was not being hard enough on her, she was just a damn assistant, she didn't mean anything, to anyone.

Friday 29th July 2011
"Sorry I'm late, I got caught up – "

"I don't, really care and I don't want to hear your excuses, when I ask you to be somewhere on time, I expect you to be there on time, I don't have time to be waiting around for you. You should really consider investing in a watch or something." Punk was naïve to expect some sort of retort or back chat, never in a million years would she say anything back – even though he knew he had pissed her off. Phoebe stood stammering on the spot, recalling her thoughts as Punk's words caught her off guard.

"I know you don't want to hear an apology from me; but regardless I am sorry that I was late, and I promise that I won't be late again - I honestly was held up in traffic, but I'll leave early and – " Punk rolled his eyes, scoffing at the 5"3 in front him, squabbling as she attempted to smooth down her hair and arrange her oversized glasses that were now askew on her small face, he waited silently, smirking at her till eventually she spoke, her voice hoarse.

"I have arranged for a car to pick you and Amy up after the game has finished, she will be dropped off at the hotel, you will need to change into your ring gear as soon as possible since the game finishes quite late and you won't have time to change once we get to the arena. Any questions?"

"Yeah… Can you please kindly fuck off?"
Phoebe looked down at the pavement, cursing internally however still trembling in fear from her boss, "Certainly sir, enjoy your game."

Phoebe pushed back her curls into a neat bun so that all of her hair was out of her face, her curls had eventually transpired from her extremely over straightened hair, her makeup was slowly wearing off and all she wanted to do was hibernate for at least 100 years. It hadn't even been a week and she was done, 100% done – she admired Punk for so long, loved everything about him, his ethics, his morals, his background, his story, his personality, and in return to all of that admiration all she got was a snidy, condescending, patronizing jerk who despised her for no good reason.

Over one shoulder absently she gazed at the television from her hotel room bed. She had 4 hours to spare, it wasn't like Punk made her do anything strenuous, she was just exhausted from Punk's attitude towards her. After every time she would think, what's in it for her, she didn't need to put up with this, but when she came back to reality, she knew why she put up with it, she just wanted that creative writers job even more. Her mother had been calling her every single day of the week, and every single time she had lied straight to her face, she told her how the first week had gone so smoothly, how everyone was incredibly nice and that she had made lots of friends however all she really wanted to say was – I just want to come home Mom.

She had slipped out of her heels and office wear and decided to put on an oversized t-shirt, Punk's room was next door whom he had been sharing with his girlfriend Amy all week. She had come to the conclusion that Punk was a). incredibly big b). really good and c). was able to give I to her. Phoebe couldn't help feel a slight twinge of jealousy, however it was always swept away when Punk made some sort of arrogant comment. She decided to lie down for a while, sleep was incredibly hard to come by these days, Punk would never let her sleep on the bus, regardless of how tired she was, she always had to wait for a plane, sometimes 2 and there was always a delay or cancellation.

An hour had gone by and it felt as though she had only closed her eyes for a second, until she heard a rapid knock on her door – climbing off of her bed and opened her door without checking the peephole, she was immediately startled to see Dolph on the other side.

"Dolph?" She remembered her run in with him on her first day, he was surprisingly a douchebag and charming at the same time, but she was still confused as to why he would seek her out.

"I'm sorry, Phoebe did I wake you up, at 4:15 in the afternoon? Nice t-shirt by the way, almost detracts away from your incredibly short legs."

Phoebe glanced down realizing her major flaw of having extremely stubby short legs, her t-shirt however was a Back To The Future t-shirt , guessing he was a fan. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Yeah thanks you know we can't all be "perfect" or whatever, excuse me for being short you don't have to look at me, and I was trying to get some sleep before the Smackdown show. Is there something you needed, besides annoying me and staring at me like I'm butchers meat?"

Phoebe sighed again and went to shut the door, but Dolph stopped it with one hand.

"I'm sorry, but erm well I was bored and you know I'm guessing you haven't made any friends yet -

"Gee thanks."

"So, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out, but if you want to sleep that's okay I can leave you alone and we can do this again sometime."

She hesitated just a moment before stepping aside. "Don't make me regret this Dolph, there are other things I would prefer doing right now but if you insist, I've spent all this week just going out of my mind, I don't really want to burden you with my problems but you know this was supposed to be my alone time, but because I'm nice, come on it."

Dolph grinned as he stepped in her room and made himself comfortable in the chair opposite the television, turning it on without so much as a care in the world. "Make yourself at home, it's fine I guess."

"Shush! Barefoot Contessa is on!" She let the door swing closed and walked back to her spot under the covers, her eyes glued to the bleached blonde head that was so engrossed with the chef, Ina that was clearly all he was fascinated about. It wasn't until three commercial breaks later that he spoke.

"Barefoot Contessa, really?"

"You really get to know a person until you watch a cooking show with them, now I know you're probably a terrible cook, so you know one day you should let me make you dinner."

Phoebe stared at him for a few second, blinking to see if she had heard him correctly. Dolph Ziggler wanted to cook dinner for the measly assistant of CM Punk, he didn't even know her and the last time the spoke he was incredibly rude and Phoebe didn't know if she wanted to see him again.

She lifted an eyebrow, "You want to have dinner with me? You don't even know me, you don't even think I belong in the WWE, and you have a girlfriend."

Dolph shrugged, turning back to the television "We broke up."

She immediately felt guilty, but then slightly irritated, was Phoebe just a rebound then?

"I never said you didn't belong, I was just trying to open your eyes, and yes I want to, it doesn't have to be a date, we'll just talk and eat, I make a mean chapolte, you really need to try it sometime."

Phoebe just looked at Dolph, her mouth slightly open, but the show came back on, and his attention was fixated on watching Ina cook devil's food cake, she watched as she smothered the cake with dark chocolate frosting. He let his own attention wander back to the television, but was soon interrupted by the sound of giggling. "What are you-" he turned to see her laughing at him.

"I think I'll have dinner with you Dolph, since you asked so kindly like a real gentleman, besides I would love to try your chapolte, to be honest you really don't seem like the chef type guy."

Dolph rolled his eyes. "You've got me all wrong baby. Tomorrow night good for you?"

Phoebe couldn't help the euphoria that was bubbling inside of her, I guess she had made a friend after all. "I'll have to check with Punk I'm sorry, he might need me for something I don't know what but he'll come up with something, hopefully however I will let you know if I can."

"Great, tomorrow we shall dine, Ziggler style."

"Where is he, the game has finished and we're already late?" Phoebe began drumming her fingers irritated as she waited for her boss and his girlfriend to emerge from the stadium, the house show was going to start in an hour and if they were unfortunate traffic would hit they were doomed, and then it were her balls that would be chopped, not Punk's but hers. A couple minutes passed and she saw the love sick couple casually strolling from the arena along with a bunch of other fans.

Phoebe felt an uneasy sensation bubbling inside the pit of her stomach, she felt livid and envious as she saw Punk's hands intertwined with the firey red head, she was stunning, simply stunning and naturally pretty – she had lovely lean legs that were on display, and why weren't they? She gazed into Punk's eyes and he did with hers – it was undeniable that they were in love and Phoebe couldn't fathom why she was feeling so agitated with the thought. They have been friends for almost a decade, you haven't even known him 10 minutes, rule number one never get involved with your boss.

The feeling passed as the pair plopped down into the car, Phoebe had left her hair in a bun and re touched on her make up while Dolph stared, surprisingly he was great company and had even chosen her a new outfit to wear down to Smackdown, she had brought the bag full of Punk's ring gear and sat silently as the two talked amongst themselves. Punk was clearly happy which indicated that his team won, from what she could gather Amy didn't know a thing about hockey however she accompanied him like a good girlfriend should.

"So, Phoebe right? I'm Amy don't think we've officially met but I hear you're a pain in the ass," she stuck her hand out and Phoebe had no idea if this was a joke and she was supposed to take it.

"It's okay we're cool," Phoebe glanced at Punk who had rolled his eyes but was gazing outside the window, she took Amy's hand and shook it, firm and warm.

"Hello, sorry I'm a huge fan – I remember every single Raw and Smackdown moment, you were so inspiring, sorry for marking."

"That's quite alright, I remember every single one too," she smiled, they began engaging in a light conversation, Punk was silent which gave her the impression that he didn't appreciate her talking to his girlfriend.

Eventually the cab arrived at the hotel and she was forced to stand outside while he said goodbye to Amy. After a couple of seconds of her departure and of Phoebe standing awkwardly on the sidewalk she heard a loud "Fuck!" coming from the car.

Punk flung the door open and ushered her inside.

"You forgot my fucking kick pads, and my elbow band and tape, and are you fucking stupid?! THESE TRUNKS DO NOT GO WITH THESE KICKPAD COVERS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE PHOEBE YOU HAD ONE JOB! Go back to my room and just get the plain black gear with the white stars, PLAIN BLACK DO YOU GET THAT?!"

Phoebe didn't respond instead she kicked off her 5" heels and sprinted towards the elevator, pushing the button repeatedly until she heard the familiar ding, she rushed in and pressed the 6th floor where all the WWE talent were currently residing in. She couldn't believe she fucked up one job, just one simple task – how the fuck was she going to cope with creative when they would be expecting ten times more the work and effort that Punk was requiring – she needed to quickly recover and calm herself down, she just needed to get the black gear with white stars, the kick pads, elbow band and tape then rush back down to the cab that was waiting outside.

One little mistake and she knew she was in for it, and she knew for at least the whole journey to the arena, all she would be hearing was how she was stupid, incompetent and just too dumb to do anything, that she would never accomplish anything.

The elevator had finally reached the floor and she sprinted towards the room Punk was staying at, luckily she had a key so she didn't have to mither Amy to open the door. Palms sweaty and hands trembling she slid the key into the lock until a green light beamed, she didn't want to alarm Amy so she slid in as quietly as she could however still picking up the pace, she just needed to find Punk's duffel bag where he kept the rest of his wrestling gear, extra kickpads, and tape etc. Punk had booked a penthouse, which meant that there was an official lounging room, 2 bedrooms, god knows why he needed 2 bedrooms since I was staying in a separate smaller, poorer one – 2 bathrooms, that were ensuite and a kitchen, the place was truly worthy of a Superstar – she honestly couldn't imagine Punk staying in a place like this, yet here he was.

Her eyes scanned the room until it landed on the bag that lay in the corner of the room, open like she had left it, she briskly walked towards it searching for exactly the right colours that Punk specifically asked for, when she was happy she closed the bag and grabbed everything she needed. Just as she was about to leave, Phoebe heard something, something that made her curious and slightly worried. She was guessing it was Amy, and the noise was coming from hers and Punk's bedroom, Phoebe wasn't one for being nosey but she was definitely curious.

Maybe Amy really misses Punk and just thought, hey no one's here I'll just have a little me time.

That was probably not the case and Phoebe knew it, she was just hoping that was what was happening. She immediately cursed herself when she saw the bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she could make out the back of a man, while Amy lay sprawled all over the bed, her legs apart, her naked body glistening with sweat.
Oh dear god.