you guys are so great, i love how much you love the story oh god :)))))))))) so chapters might come pretty slow from now on, i start college so guess who's a busy bee, me. Here's chapter 15, enjoy :)

Phoebe walked out of catering with her head held high not giving a fuck about anything. She didn't care if Punk filed a complaint against her, she didn't even care if Punk got her fired. The look on his face was priceless, her outburst had left him totally dumbfounded. He just stood there, taking it all in. Just like she had done a couple months back. Everything she had said was true, it was incredibly harsh and although Phoebe thought that her speech was completely justified yet for some strange reason she wasn't feeling 100% great, there was no sense of liberation. If anything she felt somewhat guilty and she had no idea why.

There was something that was just prodding her in the back of her mind, she just didn't know what. Was it the look on Punk's face? Was it because of the way he didn't retort back, had nothing left to say? Was it because … she brought Amy up? Was that uncalled for? Was Phoebe still frustrated, irritated because Punk hadn't even apologised, Phoebe had gotten the impression that Punk thought he had nothing to apologise for, maybe she had given him something to think about. She just didn't know.

Punk had remained eerily quiet throughout the entire day, he had absolutely no intention of going to sleep, he couldn't even if he wanted to. For some reason Punk felt like he had crossed some arbitrary line. He was hungry but couldn't eat, he was tired but he couldn't sleep, he was upset, angry, agitated, hurt, torn, he wanted to cry. Lock himself in his bedroom and just wail. He was man enough to admit it, he just couldn't do it. He just let his mind replay the words that Phoebe had said to him back in catering; he had absolutely no control over it. He had no idea why it had played so much on him, on his feelings – people had hurled abuse at him all the time, physical and verbal, Phoebe's words had stung him so much. She was right. She was fucking right about everything..

Everyone had known about Phoebe's claims relating to Amy cheating on Punk, no one had believed her, no one he knew of anyway. His first week had gone better than he expected, but he still knew that people spoke in hushed tones. Everyone in the locker room was there at his wedding, they saw the video. They knew that Phoebe was right. Luckily for Punk, no one had brought up the subject of his wedding and anything relating to Phoebe; Punk was already torturing himself. He just knew that they knew.

The Internet dirt sheets were already running rampant with what had happened, not that Punk took notice of them as such, he just knew the video was up on Youtube, TMZ, it had gone viral. Of course Phoebe knew about it, everyone knew about it. It hadn't taken long for the suits to find out what had happened at his wedding, it had meant even more publicity for the WWE, more money for the corporate sharks, Punk thought bitterly. Vince had pulled Punk behind closed doors immediately and asked if this was going to affect his performance. Of course, Punk thought, it was always about the money. Was this guy going to make me money? Will this guy make me millions? Punk assured Vinnie that wasn't going to be the case, he had no intention of quitting now, he was now is better shape, the best shapes he's ever been in. Years of hard work was not going down the drain because of his wife. He had hired a lawyer and gotten the legal documents sorted, ten thousand dollars was being taken out of his bank account, Punk couldn't help that, he just needed Amy out of his life for good. This was his punishment. Divorced at 32 was not what had bothered Punk the most. His head was still spinning with emotion. Guilt continued to consume him, devour him.

Nick and Phoebe had arrived at the hotel, there were 2 house shows this week and Phoebe decided to check them out with Nick, he was very excited for her to meet his new friend, Amy Schumer. The two had gotten a room together with separate beds. Phoebe still felt something for Nick, she didn't know what. The way he would smile at her, protect her, comfort her. Had he liked her too? Was this ever skinny love? Phoebe was quiet and sad and Nick didn't understand why. It was strange to see her so quiet, she hadn't spoken a word since this morning, even after he had found her without her leaving so much as a note.

"You hungry? What you in the mood for? Chinese? Indian? Pizza?"

"Whatever you want," she mumbled back.

"We don't have to eat anything, we'll just starve and wait for people to find our carcasses in this room." Phoebe heaved a sigh, finally locking eyes with Nick. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Phoebe to say something, anything.

"I'm in the mood for chipolte."

"Oh no." Nick knew Phoebe only ate chipolte when she was upset, really upset, she would devour plate full of chipolte with a mountain of nacho's; something happened with Punk. It was always because of Punk.

"What happened? What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything Nick, it was me. I lashed out at him."

"And?"

"I was mean. I don't do mean, like I was horrible, I can't believe I said those things. I tried to make him feel the way he made me feel you know, insecure. Thought it would be like a taste of his own medicine, and I just feel worse. You should've seen his face Nick, I really struck a nerve. I feel horrible. I thought it would make me feel better, but I don't. He's just always there, he's always around lurking and trying to make some snidy remark about me and my life, like I'm so perfect. Just knowing he's around, makes me feel miserable, knowing he can get to me at any time, and almost 100% of the time, he'll make me hate myself. I thought me doing that to him would help, but it didn't. I just, hate him so much."

Nick understood, he understood who she was and why she felt so bad; Punk had practically taken over her life. He didn't want to tell her but he could see clearly what was going on here, she cared about him. It was obvious. She didn't want to admit it but he could see it already. He just didn't understand why. After all this time, after everything he did to her all the pain he had caused, threatening to give up on her dream, he could see Phoebe feeling something towards him, that complete asshole. Something had ignited in Nick when he had concluded this, anger, fury, frustration, he was the reason that no one had attempted to communicate with her. Punk had attempted to ruin her career, he had attempted to ruin her life.

He excused himself and had decided to get some late night food but dinner was the last thing on her mind and she had only picked at it. Tonight just wasn't her night, he figured she just needed to sleep on it and decided to give her some space. He tidied up, and sat by her until she fell asleep, he gathered all of the food wrappings and headed out to dispose them, checking up on Amy in the meantime. On the way back, he had found himself in the hallway face to face with CM Punk. The two men had never been fans of each other, Punk knew briefly of his and Phoebe's relationship, whereas the entire WWE locker room knew how Punk felt about Phoebe, Dolph had never had a bone to pick with Punk, he knew the Champion was already going through a rough time with the publicity and the annulment. Punk's harsh and unnecessary treatment of Phoebe had changed all that. Dolph had been angry at Punk for a long time but today had been the last straw, pushing him over the edge.

"You know, you're a fucking asshole, a real prick you know that?" Dolph sneered as he walked closer to Punk, who looked pale, tired, and was in agony.

The normal reaction would be Punk telling Dolph to fuck off, maybe push him, punch him in the face and then feel quite satisfied with himself, truth was that he was full of pride. He was always ready to retort with a smart comment and if provoked, a fist connecting with somebody's jaw. Everyone knew, but something was different about him tonight. He was quiet and unsure of himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. Phoebe must've really hit him hard, Dolph grinned internally.

"Don't fucking remind me, I'm a piece of shit, I get it," he muttered attempting to escape.

"I never said anything because Phoebe was always scared, she was scared about how you'd react, about hurting your feelings, but what the fuck were you thinking? This was her first job, her dream job. She respected and admired you. You let her down Punk. She pities you, and that's why she hates you. I just don't get it, I get that you didn't believe her about Amy, but before that, I don't fucking get it."

Punk had no answer.

"I…I don't know. I don't know what I was doing, or thinking. She was an easy target and things got out of hand. I don't know what happened, I'm, I'm .. sorry."

"You're sorry? Fucking sorry! And what do you mean, you don't know what happened. You made her miserable, she hated coming to work everyday, she was worried that one day, you'd go too far. She was so scared of you. This is all your fault. You did this to her. You humiliated her, she had no friends apart from me because of you. She barely goes out anymore, she has been lying to her parents because of you. You just didn't know when to stop, did you? You just couldn't leave her alone. You had to keep on pushing and pushing and pushing, torturing her, making her feel shit about herself. You bullied her Punk, bullied! Yet you sit there, participating in Be A Star, are you fucking kidding? Seriously, man. What the fuck is wrong with you? You are one sick fuck, you know once I respected you, you were my friend once. Don't think so anymore."

Nick was infuriated, blue eyes darkened with rage, his voice bitter, and full of rage, his fists balled up and ready for combat. And Punk? The loud mouthed, snotty, dirty Punk kid who used to fight on the streets and get arrested was now a broken, weak little man.

"Look man, I know what I did was wrong" he looked Phil in the eye. "You're not gonna get a fight out of me, I know I fucked up, you don't need to fucking remind me."

"Wrong. Yeah that's one way of putting it you asshole. There's not point fighting you, tell me did you get your annulment from Amy yet? Is Vince still on your ass hoping this will all go away, because trust me, this isn't , don't act like everything's going to be okay. Because it isn't, not for her, it never will be."

Punk knew it. Nick was pissed off , so was Phoebe and so was he. He was so angry at himself he just needed to know where Phoebe was? And was she okay?

"Is Phoebe…"

"Don't Punk. Don't you fucking say her name. You've done enough damage, Punk. Just leave her alone. She never told me anything, I was the only person she confided in and she made me not tell anyone about this. She thought she could handle it on her own and I thought you would grow a pair but this is got way out of hand. You went a step to far every time and I'm telling you now, if you ever bother her again, I – will – destroy – you. I mean it Punk, you'll be fucking dead."

With that, he stormed off, leaving a quiet Punk alone in the hallway. Twice in one day he had gotten a violent, verbal attack from Phoebe and Dolph. Looks like it's time for an apology.

Having met Amy with Nick the next day Phoebe was suddenly sick of feeling sorry for herself, she told Nick she was going to stay in Connecticut for a while, hopefully it will do her some good with how she was feeling prior to the situation with Punk. She had spent a good three weeks there, checking out the town, working, relaxing. She had made new friends at the headquarters, creative writers were noticing her talent and spark and everything seemed to be flowing well nicely. Her family thought she was still on the road and she preferred it that way until, she'd been given the best opportunity anyone could have possible given her. She was finally happy, finally forgetting.

The experience with Punk and the WWE had left a bad memory with her, but she had a passion for writing and a passion for the WWE. Moving back to Connecticut didn't stop her from watching the show every Monday. She would watch the show unravel each storyline that had been thought through and was nailed down to a T, Punk feuding with Kevin Nash, Cena being booed even though he was the face to Del Rio's heel. Punk's feud with Triple H was expanding and was getting more intense as each week passed by. She inwardly groaned. She still couldn't escape the Straight-Edge Superstar, as if he wasn't already a nuisance in her life she was now en route to a scheduled meeting with him and the creative writers, and she wasn't taking it very well. She was feeling nauseous for some strange reason, she felt like she needed to prepare for something and not just the meeting. She had luckily escaped him for almost 2 months and ever since the outburst she had made in front of him, she had a lucky escape. Who knows what he could've done to her?

Pushing open the glass doors of the WWE Headquarters, she waited by the elevator doors, headphones blaring Jon Bon Jovi, wailing over booming electric guitars the lyrics to "Dead or Alive. The doors opened and Phoebe stepped inside, pushing the button for the 13th floor. The elevator arrived and she stepped out, her palms sweating slightly and her breathing slightly hitched. Not again, she begged. Why do I have to see him? Why couldn't it have been someone else? The floor was surprisingly loud, Stephanie wasn't here yet. She walked briskly, hearing her heels clacking against the floor, she had reached the room and noticed it was empty. Great. What was she supposed to do now, twiddle her thumbs? She paced the room a couple of times, picked a chair to sit in, ran over her notes as to what was exactly happening this Sunday at Night of Champions. Phoebe heard that there were plans for a DVD release on Punk's story, how he got into wrestling, what had happened, how he got to the top, everything there was to know about Punk. She didn't think too much of it to be honest. She certainly wasn't interested in his story.

"Hello?" Phoebe recognised the voice, and turned around anyway, their eyes locked but Phoebe tore her gaze within a second. "So you are alive."

Phoebe chose to ignore him.

The gruff deep voice made Phoebe quiver, her knees buck, "I thought you quit."

"Now why would you think that? Because of you? Don't flatter yourself."

"No, I just wanted to know how you were, I was, I was worried about – "

Phoebe rolled her eyes, and made no attempt of hiding it, "I don't even care, let's just get this meeting over with so you can go back to wrestling and I can go back to writing your story lines okay?" Phoebe wasn't stupid. She knew Punk too well, he didn't care about anyone or anything, "What do you want, Punk?"

"Well I want to apolo – "

"Right, let's get this meeting started shall we," gize. Stephanie spoke, beaming as she walked in with her husband and the rest of the creative team.

Phoebe mumbled, "Gladly."