Enjoy babies! Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks again for the reviews/follows/favs!
"Obviously, Punk was ambushed at Summerslam first by Kevin Nash who assaulted him when Punk retained and also when Alberto Del Dio cashed in his Money in the Bank briefcase, which then led to Triple H your husband, stating that he wanted Nash to attack the champion regardless of who it was.
"Now, I don't know how you feel about this – but as we know, Night of Champions is next month. CM Punk should be livid right now, of course he should be – he was attacked after a 40 minute match and having retained, still lost it because of Kevin Nash and Triple H. I reckon we could start a feud with Triple H, Nash and Punk with his loud mouth and tendancy to … insult other people. I want him to take his aggression out on not only Nash and your husband but also you Stephanie. What we expected was Punk vs Nash at Night of Champions but initially, it'll be your husband versus Punk, in honour of you since you and Punk will be having some segments. Verbal abuse, and what not."
Stephanie McMahon was impressed. That hadn't been the plan for Night of Champions, when Phoebe walked in this morning Stephanie had her doubts, she was apprehensive and didn't expect what she had just heard. It reminded her of her father, this is something he would like; it was just a shame that him and her husband weren't here to hear the storyline ideas being pitched.
"Now, I know you're not Punk's biggest fan and neither am I but he is the WWE Universe's favourite at the moment and let's not forget he's the underdog. He has says things that nobody has the balls to say – this would be such a twist, such a turn of events. I know initially we want to give the Championship back to Punk but I think we should make Punk wait."
"How long were you thinking of keeping him waiting?"
"At least 2 more pay-per-views."
"Well my dad and my husband aren't here, and I really wish they were because my dad would love this only he would ask if he could get involved with the storyline. He would say "why not the whole family?" But I don't want him to get a heart attack especially after what happened with the whole pipe bomb incident. I make the final call and I think it's a great idea and I really want to run with this so I'll set up a meeting with Punk, Kevin, Dad and Paul."
"Excuse me, sorry, what?" Phoebe felt as though her heart stopped for a second, she would have to see Punk? Wasn't that somebody else's job? She didn't want to see him. She knew at some point she would have to come face to face with him, just not today. He's going to ruin everything for me, Phoebe thought bitterly. Everything I've accomplished, everything I've worked for, down the drain in a matter of minutes because of some asshole.
She knew how Punk felt about her, it was no secret – and she also knew that he would do anything in his power to stop her from getting the job she wanted. She had concluded that after everything she had done for him, there was always Punk's hatred for her that stood in her way. Ideally she would've wanted to focus her mind on impressing, Vince McMahon and Paul Levesque, but no here she was fretting about some punk-ass douche who had made it his mission to make her crumble, and he did, had done. He was probably happily married by now, she hadn't heard anything about him or anyone else for that matter when she left 3 weeks ago, hopefully he was on his honeymoon, maybe him and Amy are still organising the wedding. Maybe he was actually thinking about taking time off to start a family? Who – gives – a – fuck? Phoebe needed to worry about tonight, and about getting this pitch right for the corporate clang, and maybe the tattooed son of a bitch.
"Phoebe?"
She struggled to swallow the saliva that was clogging her throat, "No ma'am that won't be a problem." Lucky for Phoebe lying was her forte.
"Stephanie. And good, because we've got a plane to catch for tonight's show."
Phoebe's eyes widened as she stepped foot inside the arena, it, her first Live Raw Show after almost a month from when she took off. She walked silently side by side with Stephanie, her very presence was dominant and intimidating, but Phoebe knew she was sweet and sincere. The pitch for the Punk/Triple H story line had gone so well and she thought about how good it would be to finally call herself a Creative writer; if all goes well with her interview with the second pitch. Phoebe had way more up her sleeve, months of no sleep and constant need for perfecting her portfolio would finally pay off, other ideas were just begging to be pitched to the rest of the creative team.
Phoebe and Stephanie discussed terms on the plane, assuming her husband and her father liked the idea of the pitch – she would work with the Raw roster alongside Stephanie herself however if need be she was allowed to travel with Smackdown. She had travelled with Dolph for so long that it was necessary for her to stay with him and Jake.
Just as she stood idling waiting around she took the moment to just soak it all in, the sights everything she had become so used to for months, everything she was accustomed to. There were technicians and production assistants trying to get everything ready for tonight. Her focus changed to the centre stage where the ring was being set up, she had seen it being done many times before back home including here at the WWE. Everybody looked so in sync as they were ready getting everything organised for the show, just so that it was perfect, and there were absolutely no glitches.
Superstars and Divas were already arriving into the arena and they were making their way to their locker rooms. Phoebe didn't expect anyone to remember her, with the exception of Punk, Alberto, Nick and Jake, but who else would remember the shy gawky assistant who would get scolded so much for merely breathing. Would John Cena remember her, Kofi, Zack? Phoebe tore off her sunglasses and replaced them with her normal, everyday glasses, as everyone walked passed her Phoebe went by unnoticed while they all greeted Stephanie like a long lost relative. It didn't bother her, she was here to work. Phoebe had friends.
"Do you have a plaster? Because I think I've fallen for you."
Phoebe swivelled round to see who had just spoke, "That line is awful I can feel like my ears starting to bleed, goddamn it Nick! Look at you! You're so tan! Tanner than usual, and you got your roots done, you know I like your dark roots."
Dolph opened his arms wide, smirking as Phoebe jumped onto Nick, her arms wrapping around his neck. He spun her around, before setting her feet back to the ground, "I missed you so much Phoebe, I was getting so lonely in that bus, Jake hardly travels with me now since he got drafted to Smackdown. God Phoebe I love -"
"Don't finish that sentence," Phoebe started, biting her lip nervously. She glanced around to make sure nobody was here to say this. No one had noticed the greeting between the two, and she'd rather it that way. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not looking for anything, I don't want anything right now. I love you too, as a friend."
Phoebe couldn't deny her lust filled feelings towards Dolph, he was everything she had craved for in a man –but she knew that he was still crushing on Nicole, his ex-girlfriend. She wasn't in the right mind-set to have a boyfriend and in all honesty, she didn't want to lose Nick as a friend, her only close friend she had at the WWE. She would have to bury these feelings, deep, deep, down – and stop whatever ever desire she had to start a relationship with him.
Friendzoned, well done Ziggler.
Dolph nodded, a toothy smile still on his face, "Don't flatter yourself, okay? Now, do you want to hear some good news?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow at him,
"Good news?"
"I'm sort of seeing someone, nothing serious but we hooked up last week and I'm seeing her again this Wednesday and yeah that's it. I'm finally moving on."
Phoebe stitched a smile, it almost pained her face, "That's great Nick, I'm really happy for you – finally getting over Nikki, that's all you ever wanted, right?"
"Yeah it's great, I'm really happy. So, you heard about Punk?"
Just as Phoebe was about to reply eager to know what Dolph had to say, Stephanie approached the two of them, "Hello Dolph, how're you doing? I've asked my PA to gather everyone, if you want to set up in my office, feel free too."
"Nick, I'll speak to you later okay?" Phoebe pecked him on the cheek, and waved him goodbye – she could almost feel the bile rising in her throat. She was going to see CM Punk.
Phil's plane landed and he silently grabbed his bag before exiting. Airports were always an interesting thing for a celebrity, fans bombarding him for autographs. If he wasn't tired as fuck he would be polite and sign them, of course it was a serious obligation and it came with the territory with being a WWE Superstar. But right now wasn't the time. His mind was working overtime and he would more often than not think about his wife. The slut.
His sunglasses were placed over his eyes, his Chicago Cubs cap on his head and his H2O hoodie draped over his arms. Back on the road again, he thought bitterly, but he liked the distraction, wrestling was his number one priority and all the anger and aggression he had been feeling for weeks would be used as fuel for the shows. Show the fans what they're really missing. He shuddered as he stepped foot outside, the chill of Montana caused his teeth to chatter - so he didn't mind the chill of the winter air through the terminals he grew up in Chicago for god sake.
People moved silently past him, some pointing fingers, a few taking pictures. He ignored them and continued on his way through the airport. He didn't know why Kofi had called him or why he had 16 voice mails and missed calls from his colleagues at work. They all knew about what had happened at the wedding, it was no secret – he just - couldn't - wait for people to ask him how he was, how he was dealing with all of this.
It had taken him weeks to finally decide it was time to return back to the WWE. Luckily Vince and John understood the situation, whether he liked it or not. He had been wrapping up on a set when he had gotten the frantic call from Stephanie McMahon. He had picked up the phone to hear the cool, calm and collected voice of the Billion-Dollar-Princess, she said she needed him urgently at the arena, however assured him that it was nothing bad it was just some things that needed finalising before the show started tonight. He hauled a taxi and was en route towards the arena.
Phoebe waited patiently for the meeting to start, she shook hands with Kevin and Triple H who insisted that she call him Paul, and never Sir or Mr Levesque. Vince was still delayed but the 3 exchanged idle conversation, she had never really spoken to Paul or met Kevin, only that one time during the interview however this time they got to know each other. Phoebe had to try and not mark out and tell them both about all the posters and action figures her and her brother used to collect. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass herself.
"Miss Walker, I don't think we've officially met, introductions aren't really necessary are they?" Vince McMahon had swaggered into the room, he wasn't lying, they hadn't met and Phoebe almost felt her legs bucked. Just like Stephanie, his very presence was intimidating, cold. Was he cold? She couldn't decide.
Reluctantly she decided on sticking her hand out, and he took it exchanging a firm handshake, Vince was impressed. She wasn't shaking and showed no sign of anxiousness – the mere action of offering a handshake had caught him off guard. For someone so small, she sure is brave.
"Looks like we're waiting for Mr Punk then."
"No need ya goober, I'm already here," Punk strode into the room with sheer confidence and smiled when he moved to stand next to Vince. Phoebe swivelled back round, turning so her back faced in – she wasn't ready, she didn't want to see him, she knew how this was going to all play out, he was going to ruin this for her.
"Punk." Vince bit back a retort, he did not appreciate being called a "goober." Paul, Kevin and Stephanie looked at Punk as though he had grown a second head, no one talked to Vince like that, no one even called him Vince to his face. The tension between the two men was high but Vince would never lose the straight edge superstar. He was already treading on eggshells, anything Vince said could potentially send him flying back to Chicago and never looking back. He had become Punk's doormat and it killed him – Phoebe noticed and already felt her blood beginning to boil.
"So, what's all the about?" Punk asked, the scraping of the chair dragging against the floor echoed within the room..
"Well, Punk, Kevin, Paul, Dad we are thinking of taking a new direction with things in terms of the story line, I was already won over by the pitch but since you 4 weren't in Connecticut this morning I asked Miss Walker to pitch the idea again. I believe in this storyline and I was hoping you guys would love it as much as I do." Phoebe didn't look at Punk as he drew out a sarcastic sigh. He could tell where this was going and he knew it was just going to be some dumb plot brewed by the generic writers, if you can even call them writers. Punk knew he had some creative control, he was the WWE Champion for fuck's sake – what was all this about
"Punk, just listen" Paul's voice was stern and Vince sighed.
"Phoebe, if you'd like to start."
"Sure, erm thank you for all being here, I'm glad you all took time out of your busy schedule to listen to my idea" Phoebe spoke, her voice cracking first and gradually growing more confident and amplifying as she carried on.
Punk's eyes almost bugged out of his head at the sight of Phoebe – what the fuck was she doing here? Now that he thought about it. He hadn't heard from her for a month. What was she doing here? What had happened since he had been away. His old assistant dressed in tight jeans and a printed tee, throwing on a blazer for a formal look. He peered down to see that she wasn't wearing heels. No wonder she looks smaller than I remembered. Last time I saw her she was strutting in pain as her feet nestled in a pair of Louboutins. Phil eyed Phoebe not listening to a word she was saying.
A pang of guilt began poking him, prodding, strangling, stabbing at his insides – she had warned him about Amy. That still didn't understand what she was doing here. Why isn't she looking at me? I wonder if she knows about what happened.
She probably does, he thought bitterly. When this pitch was over he had no doubt that she was going to waltz over here and scream "I told you so" in his face. She had every right to, he couldn't deny that, he just wasn't going to let her. She looks pretty hot, why haven't I noticed this before.
Punk watched as Phoebe's glasses slid to the end of nose and she would hastily push them back up again. He had so many questions, was this some kind of a joke. Was Phoebe, now a WWE Creative Writer? Well, what do you know, dream docome true!
Her mouth finally closed shut and she gave everyone time to sink in everything she had just said taking a step back from the table, she let the 4 of them discuss "It's great right, Punk isn't it great you haven't said a single word – you liked the storyline?"
I didn't hear any of it so I wouldn't of known, well it came from Phoebe so it was probably shit. Harsh, don't be a dick Phil – she warned you about Amy and what did you do, Punk? Why should I feel sorry for her, just because I didn't believe her, Amy was my fiancé I loved her and I was supposed to believe her. I hadn't even known Phoebe a month and here she was making accusations about his fiancé.
The constant battle within his mind was driving him insane, he couldn't even look at Phoebe and bo doubt she couldn't even look at him. He was not going to apologise. He was not going to let her feel sorry for him.
She cried in front of you, you made her cry, remember Punk? You said she was worthless, useless and that she never would become a WWE creative writer? Now here she was getting high praise off the corporate Brady Bunch. What does she expect me to do, give her a medal? Apologise?
Punk rolled her eyes, waving his hand dismissively, "It's good, whatever – let's just get this show over with, alright?" He glanced at Phoebe and felt his heart shatter, she was shuddering and her bottom lip was trembling, she had inched her way towards the door, as far away from him as possible. "Erm great, Paul, Dad, Kevin – sound good?" Stephanie turned her attention towards the other 3, Punk's gaze still locked on Phoebe's.
"I love it!" Vince almost jumped up and down, he really did love the idea it was one of the best he had heard in months, ever since the obvious one that Punk was in 2 months ago at Summerslam and Money In The Bank.
Phoebe took a moment to register what Vince McMahon had just said to her, "Do you mean that sir?"
"Vince, please. Yes, you, Punk and Paul should stay here and figure out what's happening tonight. Do not disappoint me tonight, I am very impressed." The 4 others minds were blown, no one was allowed to call him Vince, nobody. Yet Phoebe had gotten the permission on their first interaction, and to get the very impressed was just the cherry on top. Phoebe didn't know if this was a big deal or not, but the others did, as they stared at Vince McMahon in shock.
"Of course, Vince," Phoebe mumbled, her eyes widening in shock, she watched Vince and Kevin walk out, Stephanie winking at Phoebe, she couldn't hide the grin on her face, she suddenly felt utterly ridiculous.
"Looks like you got the creative job, I gotta tell ya, Stephanie had a lot of faith in you. She really wanted to hire you, well done, looks like Daddy likes you too." Phoebe blushed and decided on clearing away everything she had laid out for the pitch. "Listen, I'll be right back, I gotta talk to Steph for a second, but you and Punk get started."
Despite Phoebe's protests, Paul had already left the room – she needed to exit the room as fast as she could, she didn't think she could be in this room alone with Punk for longer than 10 seconds. As she was headed for the door she felt a hand grip her arm, firm but it didn't hurt. She struggled to escape from his grasp and reluctantly Punk let go, her back was still turned towards him but she felt his eyes on her.
"Look who passed with flying colours," Punk smirked in her ear, sending shudders down Phoebe's spine. What was he doing? Why was he doing this?
Phoebe stormed off, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She was glad that he hadn't fucked up the pitch for her she was so nervous and knew he could've done anything to destroy any chance of her advancing in her career. He watched her as she got further and further away from him, and still wondered whether she knew about the wedding, about what happened with him and Amy.
At least now he had a new distraction.