so guys, i thought the story was dragging, Phoebe was being a bitch when Punk was grieving and trying to apologize, SO i fastforwarded the story to a later time, 6 months later, i don't know how that goes with you guys but i'm hoping the story will pick up pace, and eventually spark the chemistry between Punk and Phoebe. I don't know if it's too soon and neither does Phoebe so, let me know what you think guys :)
6 months later
2nd April 2012
It had taken 2 pay-per-view's later for Punk to finally become champion, he had been yearning for the gold and the triple-threat-match at TLC against The Miz and Alberto Del Rio was what it took for Punk to win. Punk had to hand it to Phoebe, she was doing an excellent job with keeping up with storylines, sure an assistant's job was tough but having to write full storylines, as well as working on pay-per-views and scripts, there was no way in hell she could've managed. It had been 6 months since that night outside the club. Ever since he had made no attempt to reconcile with Phoebe, there was no point and Phoebe hadn't uttered a single word to him and neither had he.
"BOTTOMS UP, PUNK! DRINK UP PUNK, COME ON DRINK IT UP! IT'S GOOD FOR YOU, C'MON! YOU WANT ANOTHER DRINK? OKAY! DON'T DRINK TOO MUCH, BECAUSE IF YOU DO, IT GOES STRAIGHT- TO – YOUR – HEAD!"
Punk had already made his apologies, but this, this was crossing the line. It was no secret that Jericho had a knack for going to the extremes with storylines and in the ring. Plus, everyone knew about Punk's DVD release explaining his most intimate and precious moments in and outside the WWE and Phoebe had no intention of using that as a storyline and thought it may be risky since the DVD wasn't to be released till the Summer. It had come a shock to many people who didn't know Punk that well, including Phoebe. Writing his storylines was always easy, he was willing to do anything and would hardly ever say no. He didn't even hesitate for the Jericho/Punk that had started just at the beginning of this year, which was initiated by Jericho, no doubt Punk had some input as well. But never did she think that Jericho would do this.
CM Punk's match with Mark Henry had ended in a count out, however Chris Jericho made a surprise appearance to shoot a promo with Punk as he lay helpless on the floor, beat and banged up. Much to the horror of the wrestlers backstage and the crowd in the arena, Jericho continued to pour whiskey all over the WWE Champion and then smash a bottle against his head. This was not okay with her, and seeing Punk's body limp and unmoving caused Phoebe's inside to turn. He had already had a brutal match, and with Wrestlemania the day before she knew everyone was pretty much aching and suffering the hits and blows. The smash over the head with the bottle had seriously crossed the line. Punk was drenched in alcohol, shards of glass were scattered over the floor along with a puddle of Jack emerging from underneath Punk.
Chris had reopened the wounds of Punk's teenage past, with a father that drank and smoked non-stop. Of course what Jericho had said about his sister was not true but nevertheless, that wasn't the point. The promo Chris Jericho had delivered was nailed down to a T in terms of hitting Punk where it hurt, Phoebe no longer wrote for Punk and Jericho as they improvised, they were good enough to do that on their own but she now realised that that was a terrible mistake. Hearing the words tumble out of Jericho's mouth about his father echoed within the arena and within the walls of Punk's head. The nightmares were getting more and more frequent and it shattered and broke Punk inside, and for some strange reason Phoebe felt something tugging at her heartstrings. The look on Punk's face when the alcohol was poured all over him. Phoebe didn't know why Jericho went that far, and neither did Punk. For all he knew, this was all revenge for her? Phoebe wouldn't do that, right?
"What the fuck is going on?" Cena had sprinted to the gorilla area to where Phoebe was stood dumbfounded trying to cut to commercial break. She had a strong dislike for Punk but never did she want this.
"This isn't the promo, this wasn't supposed to happen! I don't know what the hell is going on but get a medic team out there, stat!"
Boos and protests filled the arena, meanwhile backstage, the Raw roster watched as they say Punk's still body on the floor, unaware of why this was happening. Phoebe cast a glance back at the monitor suddenly feeling guilty. This was her storyline, her baby, she was supposed to be taking care of it and yet it was spiralling out of control. She could've sworn she saw tears in Punk's eyes.
"Oh my god. This is wrong. Where the hell is Jericho? Where the hell is Stephanie?" Phoebe shook her head, running a hand over her face. "Who authorised that?" Phoebe seethed in the face of a production assistant who had no answer to her question.
Stephanie's heels lacked against the hard floor, she appeared beside Phoebe, her face was white as a ghost. Stephanie McMahon did not look much better as the two watched the monitor in agony as the promo came to an end and CM Punk's body was shown before going to commercial break. Her dark eyes cast a glance at Stephanie, "Did you know this was going to happen?"
Stephanie didn't respond, her fingers pressed against her chapped lips, when Jericho came through the curtain he gave her a tight squeeze, "Hope that was brutal enough for you!" He gave Phoebe a quick wink who shuddered in the process.
"I trusted him to do what was right. He told me he would take care of it. I didn't think he'd do that. I told him to be brutal but I told Punk the exact same thing, I – I – I don't know what was happening." Stephanie whispered inside Phoebe's ear.
A couple moments later the medics had managed to bring Punk back to the gorilla area where he could barely open an eye lid, Phoebe knew he wasn't unconscious as he heard him groan as they placed him in a chair, propping his leg up to see if any damaged had been done to his knee, while another took a closer look on his head.
"We've got some glass here, we're gonna need some hot water and tweezers," said one of them. Phoebe and Stephanie stood awkwardly by meanwhile most of the locker room had gathered round to see if Punk was okay. Of course he wasn't okay. Some began to reach out to him, trying to calm him. John stepped forward placing a hand on his shoulder, which Punk aggressively shoved off, "Stop. We're not talking about this. I don't need sympathy off any of you." His voice was rough and harsh, but still shaking.
John began to retort however the room was filled with laughter that was coming from Jericho, "Nothing personal, right Punk." He continued laughing, cackling as he clutched his bare chest, godamnit Phoebe always hated that Christmas tree light up jacket. After a long time, Phoebe felt sympathy for Punk, it was bubbling inside of her and she couldn't hold it back down. She wasn't ready to become best friends with him but she couldn't deny the pity she was feeling. Sure she felt bad for him when Amy had left him, and that was 6 months ago, but no one could ever get over something like that so easily, and now there was this storyline. A storyline she was more than happy to write, not even considering the consequences.
Before anyone could stop him, Punk jumped out of seat and stormed towards Jericho who had still continued sniggering at Punk, his hands were balled up into fists.
"Punk, stop!" Stephanie tried holding him back but Punk's strength was too much for her, as he barged past her and Stephanie to face Chris who had the nerve to smirk in Punk's face.
"Come on Punk. Don't be like that, it's part of storyline. Things didn't mean to get this far but, it was fun, entertaining, the crowd loved it. Your dad's probably home watching it right now, with a bottle of Jack resting in his fat hand, smoking whatever concoction he made, and your mother, well – "
Punk didn't give him a chance to finish as he raised his tattooed fist towards Jericho's face, by instinct Chris ducked as fast as he could, dodging Punk's fist within a millisecond. However his punch had connected with somebody else's face, sending them crashing to the ground. Punk watched Phoebe land with a thump, she clutched her nose however temporarily disoriented Punk couldn't even comprehend what he had done. He just saw her, lying on the floor. The wrestlers surrounded her, tried shaking her, waking her from her unconsciousness. Looking at the motionless Phoebe, Punk knew instantly that she was really hurt. The punch was meant to be a knock out, and do some real damage. Jericho and Punk exchanged uneasy glances unsure of what to do next.
"Phoebe! Phoebe!" Punk whispered softly into her ear, still not getting a response.
Her eye started to blacken and there was blood gushing out of her nose. Punk stared horrified as he kneeled over the woman he had accidentally hurt. He had already caused her so much emotional damage that would never be forgivable and now he had hurt her even more, physically. Punk knew his own strength, everything with Jericho, everything Jericho said seemed to disappear and shut down. That didn't matter anymore, Punk swore he would never hit a woman in his life. Yet here he was staring at the petite young lady he had punched in the face. A medic had waddled over, he was burly so he managed to carry Phoebe by himself, she definitely needed looking at by a professional doctor.
"Punk! Punk! You still need medical attention!" A medic called out from behind Punk as he limped in Phoebe's direction, he wasn't the only one that needed looking at.
"Yeah, and does Phoebe!" Punk barked at one of them.
"Listen Punk, you stubborn pain in the ass, you and Phoebe are both being checked out, by the doctors here. Jericho, in my office, now! Punk listen to what the medics tell you, and when Phoebe wakes up make sure you apologise to her. And mean it! Goddamnit, this is a total zoo." Stephanie growled strutting towards her office, Punk glared daggers at Jericho, he had some unfinished business with him but Punk knew it would have to wait for now. Reaching the room, Phoebe's small body was placed on a stretcher bed, while Punk's plopped himself on a bed next to her, someone had tended to the glass that was still in his head however Punk couldn't help but look over her body. So frail. So delicate.
"I'm so sorry Phoebe. It's going to be okay, you'll be okay," Punk whispered, more to himself than to Phoebe. All he could do was hope that every would be okay. Emotional damage was something that no one could ever get over, but if Phoebe was hurt for sure, Punk knew he could never forgive himself.
The impact alone had knocked Phoebe out cold for a matter of minutes. After the show had officially ended and the live broadcast was over, the medics rushed out and only then did Phoebe began to stir. In next than no time, she had been snatched out of Punk's embrace and placed on an ambulance bound stretcher. He had spent a restless night in his hotel room, he knew it would've been worse if he had gone with the medics, and even he knew she would not appreciate seeing Punk first after she had gained consciousness. John and Nick had gone and secretly Cena had been updating him on everything, according to doctors she kept stirring in her sleep, but that may have been because she was feeling extremely lethargic.
There was no way in hell could sleep. How could he possibly? His heart was thumping and his ears were ringing. Every time he tried closing his eyes all he could see was Phoebe's crippled body in the ground, and everything would go pitch black. Punk then resorted to thinking about the following week, his win at Wrestlemania had been phenomenal, that time had been magical. Every match he had ever done he had wrestled to his maximum best, he was still aching from the win. Then he thought about Hall Of Fame. Punk hadn't gone with Amy like he always planned, however he had taken Lars. Colt would occasionally drop in what Amy was up to these days but Punk was no longer interested. He was officially a divorcee, just lke SuperCena and Orton. Typical.
But the Hall Of Fame was better than he could ever imagine. Mostly because, he got to see Phoebe.
She was stunning, he couldn't deny it. But seeing her on that night, he could barely take her eyes off of her. Her petite frame had a black, velvet strapless, sleeveless dress wrapped around her, her slender arms bare, with tattoos that adorned her right arm. Punk wondered if she was hoping for a sleeve. Her chest had been pushed up, amplifying her perfectly formed breasts. Punk's mouth had gone dry by this point. Everything he had ever said to her face, behind her back to her friends was all a lie. Truth was, he adored her. He respected her. He cared for her. He wanted to love her.
Punk noticed that Phoebe was still lusting over Dolph Ziggler, however Nick had a lovely lady draped over him, a beautiful, blonde broad that suited his witty personality exceptionally. Punk was extremely impressed by the ceremony that night, the inductees were well deserved and was definitely worth going, even though he had a brilliant view of Phoebe from where he was sat. The ceremony had come to an end, and as if by tradition there was an after party held straight after at some hot, flashy club. As the superstars filed out of the building, Punk and Lars decided that is was best not to go with them. What were a pair of straight edge, tattooed mother fuckers going to do at a club that contained half naked girls and drinking?
Stepping outside into the night, Punk scanned the scene for a cab, turning to his side he felt his breath catch in his throat. Forcing himself to look at her more closely Punk had a very hard time, keeping things from not … getting hard. Her light blue eyes, the way her skin shun in the moonlight, so exposed, so seductive. His gaze moved upward, following the line of the gown, over softly rounded hips and up, even higher. He sucked in a quick breath as his gaze moved over the swell of pair of perfectly sized breasts, now so close he was almost in reach to touch them. Phoebe hadn't noticed, but when she turned, her face carefully arranged into a smile expecting Nick or Jake, or even Matt she immediately brushed it off when she noticed it was Punk's eyes that were trailing down.
For the first time in almost 6 months, they had finally looked at each other. Phoebe had nothing to say. And neither did he. She was still being stubborn, and Punk understood 100%. She froze. Rapidly trying to look anyway but at Punk. Punk in a suit, she had never seen that.
"You clean up well," Punk mumbled, kicking himself in the head. His head swivelling right back round when she found him staring at her, anything, he could've said anything, you're beautiful, you look stunning, you look wonderful, but no.
"Wish I could say the same thing for you, don't think suits are your thing," Phoebe bit back, her tone light. Turning to look at her, they shared an awkward laugh.
A taxi had pulled up in front of Phoebe; brushing past him Punk felt the heat of her body through his shirt. She paused for a moment beside him and flicked a heated look at him. She glared at Punk, narrowing her eyes, "Just so you know, this doesn't mean we're friends or anything."
The memory had left a nice imprint in Punk's brain, and by the time he relived the moment, the only moment he had ever shared with her that didn't make him hate himself, besides the last part. It was reaching 5am and Punk was growing increasingly restless. Punk hauled a cab to the hospital Phoebe was at, thinking about his run in with Phoebe on the drive there.
"I'm looking for Phoebe Walker, she was brought in by WWE medics," Punk spoke lowly, hoping no one would notice him. "She was brought in here a couple of hours ago."
"Room 321, sir, on the second floor." Punk nodded in appreciation and sprinted towards the destination, within minutes he had jumped 2 steps at a time, his legs throbbing after every jump. He reached the second floor and raced through, scanning the room numbers until he saw the numbers '321.' At the very end of the corridor he saw the numbers he had been searching for and peered in through the window. She was awake. She was on her phone, and somehow she looked pretty content considering she had just been punched in the face by a wrestler. His feet had somehow managed to have a mind of their own and he ended up stumbling into the room, his hands pushing through the door, his legs had given up on him tonight and he had well and truly embarrassed himself. Punk had hoped that Phoebe was alone so he could apologise to her, unfortunately Dolph was sat opposite to Phoebe and was now on both feet staring menacingly at Punk.
"H-H-Hi. Erm, I'm not here to cause trouble, I think I've done enough of that, I just erm, fuck, I just want to apologize to Phoebe," Punk stammered, motioning towards her. For once in her life Phoebe had no idea what to say. Having gained consciousness she realised that Punk was provoked and meant no harm. Jericho had been an asshole and had touched on a sensitive subject. Her of all people knew what emotional damage that can do to someone. It still hadn't erased the memory of what Punk had done to her, nevertheless, ever since seeing the final cut of Punk's DVD, she hadn't managed to get the story out of her head. Everything about my father is true, he was a heavy drinker. I can't remember the first time I ever saw him without a bottle. I was so scared you know, I was just a kid. I haven't even spoken to my brother in 10 years. It's real life you know.
"Just so you know Punk, I didn't know Jericho would go that far, that wasn't on the booking sheet and I don't know how that happened. So for that I'm sorry he said those things," Phoebe started
"I don't want your sympathy," Punk blurted out, cutting her off.
"I know, but what he said … "
"I said I don't want your sympathy. Just drop it, goddamnit" Phoebe swallowed, she knew that she didn't have to apologize, especially after everything that happened between herself and him. She was not ready to accept his apology for attacking her on so many occasions, but here she was blurting out apologies for doing something she didn't even do.
"Like I said, I'm here to apologise for punching you. I never meant it, I would never hurt you, and I would never lay a finger on a woman. I respect women too much, especially you. I'm probably the last person you want to see. I know I haven't a good guy, I know I treated you like shit when you were my assistant and I don't know, Phoebe. I just can't believe that was me, that did that to you. You never deserved it, and you certainly didn't deserve that blow to your face. It's my fault and I have so much respect for you, you're still here. Most people would be gone by now and I am so proud that you're here, sticking to yoru guns. Mistakes happen all the time, people get seriously injured all the time around here, in the ring and unfortunately you were the one that got hurt. You're so fragile and small, and I just, I just wanted Jericho to stop talking. I just don't know what came over me, what can I say? I didn't mean to and I feel like shit for it. You're hurt, all I have ever done is hurt you and I'm just, I hate saying sorry but you will never know how sorry I am. You don't believe me. I get that and I can't say that I blame you.
I've same some pretty messed up things to you in the past. I know because of the way I acted before, it's kind of hard to trust me but I you'e got to know last night was an accident. I've hurt you in other ways but I'd never hurt you physically and I just wanted you to know that. I wish it was me in that bed right now instead of you. I should be in a bed I'm that banged up but here I am. I just want us to work together and get along, you know? I'm asking for a truce of some sorts. Maybe, I don't know start over and I won't be a jerk to you. Maybe. I wanted to stay away but, we're always going to run into each other, it's inevitable you know.
Jericho, really got to me, and to be honest, I want out, after the next PPV, I want you to cut the storyline, if that's not too much trouble. I know you worked very hard for Extreme Rules, so I'm begging you here Phoebe. I don't want to do this anymore. Again, I'm sorry." Punk felt like a stammering idiot, he didn't think Phoebe was going to take notice of him. But he had to try. Phoebe had never seen him so vulnerable, which made her heart clench. He was right, the storyline was getting way out of hand.
"Remember what I said I'd do to you if you ever hurt Phoebe again, you can't just waltz in here Punk and expect us to listen to some bullshit crap that you've spieled out of your mouth this time." Dolph snarled shoving Punk backwards. Punk didn't want a fight, mostly because he was so beat up he would never last most than 10 seconds. Not wanting to cause more havoc and pain, Punk held his hands up in defeat and limped out of the room without saying so much as a goodbye.
"What a dick," Dolph huffed, returning back to his chair.
"Yeah, what a dick," Phoebe sighed, her finger tracing the stitching on her nose.
"Can you believe the nerve of him? Waltzing in here, expecting you to accept his apology after hurting you physically and mentally!?"
"He was provoked Nick."
"Are you fucking kidding me Phoebe? I don't care what emotional turmoil he had been through when he was a teenager, he had hurt you so many times, are you defending him. What is this?"
"I'm not defending him, we're not even friends and we're never going to be. I just, I was so stubborn before, I hated his guts at one point and now I guess I just tolerate him. But we've both been through too much. You can't just shove someone aside, you have no idea what some people have gone through Nick. I don't want to feel hateful, I don't want to be harsh. I'm sick of it. Tonight was disgusting and I can't believe Chris did those things. It doesn't erase what Punk did to me, but Punk has suffered, I don't want to see him suffer more. I'm cutting the storyline."
"I can't believe this." Dolph's voice was so quiet, yet disappointingly menacing. She barely heard him but the message was loud and clear. Phoebe had no idea what was coming over her. Feeling sorry for CM Punk? The man who had destroyed her, and partially and most certainly could've damaged her one and only shot to achieving her dream. The man who told her she'd never find love. The man who said she would never become a writer. The man who only hours ago, punched in her square in the face. The man who had apologised to her countless amount of times, and she every time ignored them. Was what she did justified?
He certainly knew he was sorry, but did Phoebe ever do anything wrong? Knowing Punk was hurting, used it to her advantage and played with his emotions, displaying them on live television? Torn between waiting to have a truce with Punk and hating him for everything he had ever done to her Phoebe decided to lay on her back, staring at the blankness of the ceiling. It only her mind was that blank she'd be able to get some rest.