Little shorter than usual and pretty rushed I was getting bored and wanted to post a new chapter, apologies, hope you guys like it, love everybody whos been following and favourited my story, thank you for reading and thank you for the reviews, much appreciated! :3

"I, I have something to tell you…There's no easy way to say this – "

"Just spit it out Phoebe, for fucks sake!"

"Amy's cheating on you."

Punk's fists clenched in anger, silence echoed within the four walls of the compact room – Punk's blood boiling to maximum point. This bitch just didn't know when to quit. He hates her, hates everything about her.

"You know what I think?"

"I think you like me. I think you love me, and you're jealous of Amy. You're jealous of all the love I have for her, the respect I have for that woman. Remember this Phoebe, you're nothing but an assistant. I never wanted you, and WWE never wanted you – they hired you just to make you do shit for me, and even then, you were, useless. WWE don't even want you, you'll never become part of a Creative Member team, you haven't got a single creative bone in your body, you wouldn't know what creative was even if it punched you in the face. You're a nobody, you're an unattractive bitch, no one will ever like you, no one will ever love you, they won't even look twice at you because you're a fucking creep that can't keep her big nose out of anyone's business. I know you also have a thing for Dolph, like he'd ever want someone like you. I am not your boss anymore and you are not my employee, I never wanted you and nor will I ever want you , so do everyone a favour, and get – the – fuck – out."

"Punk, I'm telling you the truth, I saw her –"

"STOP! Stop with the weak ass lies, they're pathetic, you're pathetic. I thought after 2 months, you had proved me wrong, you weren't some freak that loved me or whatever but I was wrong, You're a sad, lonely girl."

Punk lay awake in his bed, the bus was en route to the next city. He had no luck finding Phoebe after he had cut his promo with Triple H, he asked every single person he passed and still no sign of her. What would I have even said to her? Punk thought, what was there left to say? The memory he had just recalled stung him, what had gotten into him at that time? What had gotten into him the entire time he had known Phoebe? The more he tried not thinking about his little ex-assistant, he couldn't help think about her even more. The way she would react, not retorting back. Just going about her daily job, assisting this Punk ass kid that hated her guts. She was so submissive and just took his shit – why?

They had spent so many moments together alone with each other, each and every time he hated the thought of her being around him, it had knocked him sick. Punk tried denying the fact that he never did anything wrong; he simply did not like her and she annoyed him, if it was anybody else he would've acted the exact same.

What am I saying?! You made her work life living hell! Punk didn't want to admit that he was in the wrong, it all came down to ego, deep down somewhere he knew it was the right thing to do, to man up and face the guilt that was being washed over him. Apologising was an even harder task for him, Punk never apologised to anyone, he couldn't it just never came naturally to him.

Punk reached over to his bedside table grabbing the latest Tales of the Batman issue, he had a lot of catching up to do and anything to erase his mind about Phoebe would help. He flipped open the first page, revealing the contents in fresh mint condition – he began reading, reading the words that were on the page, which eventually turned into just flicking through the comic book without so much as a glance at each page. The words were spoken aloud from his lips yet none of them stuck in his mind, the pictures just blurs of beautiful art that didn't get enough attention from Punk. They were just words that didn't mean anything, much like every insult he had fired at Phoebe. Punk tossed the book at the door not realising that at the same time he had thrown the book, Kofi had opened the door. The book bounced off his chest and flopped down onto the floor.

Kofi bent down to pick it up, observing it before tossing it back to Punk, "That bad, huh?"

"I didn't mean, I didn't know you were going to come in. Whatever happened to knocking?"

"I knew you weren't asleep I heard you were awake, reading. You left pretty quickly from after that promo, everything alright?" Kofi perched himself at the end of Punk's bed.

"Don't get too comfortable. I was just gonna go to bed."

Kofi scoffed at Punk, "That's not gonna work on me dude, I know for a fact that you never sleep, you barely got 2 hours in yesterday. What's troubling you, buddy?"

"Kofi for fucks sake man, nothing is the matter. You know how it is with the suits, the meeting before the show was just – "

"You saw Phoebe."

"Who?" Punk spoke abruptly, defensively, Kofi doesn't know anything.

"Don't play dumb. She doesn't know man she's clueless, she still thinks you're with Amy, she seemed pretty angry after the meeting, something about that "fucking bastard, who does he think he is" and she came and found Dolph, I was with him so, look who doesn't read Bleacher Report."

"I still don't know who you're talking about man." Punk went back to his comic book, trying to focus on something other than Phoebe.

"Whatever you say man, by the way, your comic's upside down."

Kofi left, shutting the door behind him. Punk was alone again, stewing on his own, not letting his mind rest, looks like another sleepless night for me.

Look who passed with flying colours?! The fucking nerve!

Phoebe didn't know where her legs were going taking her but she knew anywhere would be better than near Punk. She didn't need to witness a weeks' worth of screenplay writing torn to shreds – on one occasion she remembered a poor writer actually breaking down sobbing as Punk screamed, destroying the script in the process.

Why did I ever return, Phoebe thought miserably to herself, oh that's right, because you had this silly dream about becoming a WWE Creative writer.

Phoebe tried finding Stephanie after the show ended, she could've sworn that Steph had asked her to wait by catering for her but she was nowhere to be found. She needed to get a flight back to Connecticut, there was no way she would stay here where Punk would be within a 5 mile radius. She had suffered enough and now Phoebe was here to write, just write.

Deciding that Stephanie had left without her, she made her way outside trying to see if she could find a rental car, luckily she ran into Nick as he too was making his way out to the next city.

"Hey look at you Miss Hot Shot Creative Writer."

"Hey, look at you – the … show .. off?" Phoebe stammered, Dolph grinning pearl whites.

"Nick, I was wondering … "

"If you could get a ride, sure thing. You don't need to ask." Phoebe slipped her arm, linking there two arms in a, warm embrace as a thank you, Dolph pressed his lips to her temple, enjoying the embrace.

"So, what did Stephanie want, you looked like you were in a bit of a hurry when she came over, everything alright?" The two had reached their bus, Jake had already gotten in and was lounging about in his bunk.

"We had a meeting, discussing the new storyline involving Stephanie, Paul, Kevin and Punk."

"Poor guy," Jake mumbled to himself, while Phoebe turned to Nick with a raised eyebrow curious as to what Jake meant.

"You really don't know do you?" Dolph cleared his throat, turning his back to Phoebe. "Everybody knows about Amy cheating on Punk, everyone all found out at the wedding, I obviously wasn't invited I mean, I didn't want to go. But it's all over Youtube, TMZ, Bleacher Report. I'm surprised that you haven't heard about it to be honest." Dolph handed Phoebe his smart phone, and on it was a small clip that was taken at Punk's wedding. She had barely watched 10 seconds and felt slightly sick in her stomach. She hated Punk with a passion, but she knew the didn't deserve this. This was … inhumane. She couldn't bear to think what Punk had gone through, now that she thought about it Punk did look rather slimmer and paler than usual.

It still doesn't change anything, he was a dick, an asshole, don't go soft just because he learnt the hard way, it's his own goddamn fault.

Phoebe handed the phone back to Nick too shocked for words, she sat down and she let her mind wander, Nick's and Jake's words simply hadn't reached her, all noise had become fuzzy. How was he coping? He must feel so alone right now. Had he though about me since he found out that I was telling the truth? Why was he still acting like an arrogant arse after everything? What is he feeling right at this moment? Heartbroken? Lost ?Scared? Vulnerable? Alone?

Phoebe didn't want to say she cared, she just knew exactly what it felt like to be in his shoes, sure Punk was a strong person and he always never lost face and for someone so head strong, it was almost impossible to see a man like him break down. He was now married to Amy, and there was nothing Phoebe could to about it, Punk had to learn the hard way and that wasn't her fault, she just pitied him, felt sorry for him; because he was feeling exactly the way he had made her feel.

Lost. Scared Vulnerable. Alone. Heartbroken.

Phoebe had fallen asleep in Nick's bunk, him arm draped over her torso. The warmth felt familiar and made her feel good – Jake was nowhere to be found and they had already reached there next destination. She slowly removed his tanned arm from her and slipped on a pair of heels. She gave Nick a peck on the forehead and decided to find Stephanie – hopefully after the show she would be able to head back to Connecticut, she forgot how tiring it was travelling on the road for so long. Maybe I was just out of practise, I loved travelling with Nick. Punk never let Phoebe travel with him, ever since he had gotten the new terms to his contract meaning new bus ect, she was never aloud, it was always sleeping on airport floors, catching flights, sleeping in rental cars, her back in constant pain and feeling fatigue every single day. Maybe it was for the better, travelling with him would've meant twice the amount of torturing, harassing and constant need to throw insults at her.

She stepped foot inside the arena, like yesterday production assistants, lighting and camera crew were setting up; today was not a great day to wear heels however she picked up her legs and decided to jog around the arena, hoping to find her. She had left Stephanie several missed calls and nothing. It was like she had disappeared off the face of the earth.
Eventually she began to slow down, she looked pretty frazzled and she hadn't even applied make up on, never in her life would she walk anywhere without applying make-up, until now.

"Hey pretty lady, long time now see," Phoebe didn't know who said that, and she didn't even think it was directed towards her, until she felt a hand grip her arm. Swivelling around she turned to see who spoke.

Super Cena. "Hey, yeah, long time no speak."

"Where've you been, we thought you left, or I don't know, you got fired."

"Creative writer now," Phoebe held up her badge to John, who in time wolf whistled when she had shown him. "You made it huh? Dind't think you'd last you know, but look at you now, I'm impressed." Phoebe blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You're not the only person who thought that, I'm still surprised you even remember me you know, we should have coffee sometime. Listen, I'm in a bit of a hurry, but I'll come find you later okay?" They exchanged a quick hug and Phoebe scurried off, John was genuinely surprised at how much Phoebe had progressed in her career in such short time.

"Where is she?" Phoebe mumbled to herself, she had eventually reached catering, she doubted that Stephanie would be here, she still looked never the less. It was practically empty, until she saw a figure in the corner of the room, dressed in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt. Hair slick back, lip ring and dark, red circles under his eyes, it was Punk.

Phoebe was about to turn back around until she heard Punk's voice, "What are you doing here in catering? If I were you, I'd be watching what I eat, you're looking a little, round. Then again, you have no hope really, do you?"

Phoebe swallowed back any retort she felt like firing back at Punk, it wasn't worth it, he was hurting and she wasn't going to sink down to his level.

"Have you seen Stephanie?" Phoebe asked, quietly as a mouse. Punk however snickered, getting up so he was now closer to her.

"No I have not, why, lost your babysitter?" Need little Stephanie to hold your hand?" Punk stood 2 feet away from her, sneering, while Phoebe stared at her feet.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

Say it Phoebe, just say it, he's not going to punch you. "Being an asshole."

"Babe, you knew I was an asshole from the moment you saw me on television, what you get on TV is what you get in real life. That is who I am."

Phoebe couldn't help but roll her eyes, she had heard the same, ordinary spiel for days, weeks and months, that line was getting really old.

"I don't get it Punk, I really don't. I don't understand what I ever did to deserve this, I never did anything bad to you, if anything I was great to you, I was a brilliant employee. I never deserved anything you ever said to me, it was disgusting and vile and, I'm just so sick of you walking all over me like I'm a fucking doormat. Don't be bitter just because the love of your life left you for some other man. I truly am sorry for what happened at that pathetic excuse you had for a wedding, I really am. "

"You know, when I found out that Amy was cheating on you, I felt really bad for you Punk, you didn't deserve anything, I thought 'Wow, Amy Dumas has bagged himself a great guy, yet she's shagging some random motherfucker behind your back. I was so disgusted and felt so sorry for you. But, I've now come to realise, that maybe Amy did the right thing. Because you really are a bitter, loveless, disrespectful loner who doesn't deserve the love for anybody, you're an unlovable monster. She cheated on you because you're a fucking bastard who doesn't give a crap about anybody but himself. I cared for you, I admired you so goddamn much. You're hopeless now. Good luck getting your divorce, you son of a bitch."