Ricardo Rodriguez hums vaguely to himself as he thumbs through the WWE magazine, alone in AJ Lee's locker room. The divas champion is off somewhere with Mike, which leaves the room quiet and peaceful while he skims articles and smiles at some things in the magazine, just to stop short when he sees the Jerk of the Month article, where Alberto is showcased. He blinks at just how happy his former employer seems with the large boot plaque, reading through what's said about him. His gaze darkens a little when his name is mentioned, in connection with Alberto targetting those weaker than he. Closing his eyes, he shuts the magazine and stares ahead blankly at the monitor.

Alberto is currently wrestling Big E, and between the article and watching his friend kick the much larger man before targeting his arm, it brings back old memories that he'd rather forget more often than not. Especially now, when they're trying to be friends again, and Del Rio may be leaving in a few months. But still... terrible recollections are there, and often causes his intermittent insomnia, especially when he realizes how yet again, he's vulnerable to Alberto should the older man ever lose it on him as he did back in August. The Mexican aristocrat had never been one to comment on the dark circles under Ricardo's eyes, or how his random drawings stack up more and more each morning, so it's no surprise that he doesn't notice such things now. But it does little to ease the former ring announcer's jitters, or his frustration as he stares once more at the magazine now laying forgotten on the couch next to him.

He swallows and finds his phone, tweeting quickly about the past, when Alberto would offer to train with him to try out new moves, just to brutally kick or stomp him. He looks up in time to see just that, Big E sent violently down to the mat as a result of Del Rio's boots crashing down on his midsection while he hangs helplessly from the second rope. Ricardo's fingers hover over his phone as he types another tweet, closing his eyes as he sends it hesitantly, not wanting to cause the cycle to begin again between them just by these tweets, but needing to get them out there, somehow, someway. To try to clear his mind...

"Ricardo, come here, I want to try a new move," Alberto says, as he'd done many a time over the last few months. The ring announcer hesitantly joins him, expecting the worst, when Del Rio pushes him into the corner, analyzing everything as he tries to figure out the physics of whatever it is he wants to do before he even attempts it. It's a weird set up, trying to follow Alberto's impatient commands, while not being sure of what the end result would be, but Ricardo follows as best as he can, climbing up to the second rope and placing himself in an awkward tree of woe, clutching the ropes to maintain a horizontal base while Alberto watches him from the top rope. "Got it?"

"Si, si- I think so-" he's just barely finished speaking when Alberto stands up straight and stomps down brutally atop his chest, sending him crashing down to the mat. His hands sting from the sudden, forced release of the ropes, but nothing compares to the agony shooting from spine to abdomen, all of the breath forced from his lungs as his ears ring from the impact of the back of his head against the mat. He wheezes, clutching his midsection as Alberto regains his footing a few feet away, looking pleased with himself.

It takes a few moments for him to notice that Ricardo hasn't moved, a flicker of doubt taking over his smug appearance as he ventures towards him. "Ricardo? Mi amigo?"

Ricardo gasps, the echoes of the memory remaining with him even as he blinks back into present time, unconsciously jerking back when he realizes that Alberto is standing in front of him, his eyes dark with worry and- Ricardo looks down to find that Alberto's tightly holding onto his phone, looking tense and grim. "Eh, ah," he tries to find some sensible words, flushing when his voice comes out high-pitched. Clearing his throat, he tries again. "Did- did you win, El Patron? Lo siento, I was... distracted."

"I see that," Alberto mutters, his hand still digging into the surface of his cell phone, Ricardo only just able to see Twitter's mobile app on its screen from this angle, his eyes dropping miserably as he waits for another attack, or yelling, or... When, instead, match-warmed fingers rest on his jaw, urging his face up, he blinks in surprise and looks up at Del Rio. "Was I truly that bad, mi amigo?"

"So- sometimes," he admits faintly. "Especially... in the early days." Alberto stares at him for a long, tense minute before collecting the forgotten WWE magazine and sitting down next to him heavily, looking tired and older than Ricardo has ever seen him. "Lo siento, I- I didn't mean-"

"Don't apologize for the truth, Ricardo," he interrupts the younger man's struggle at finding a good reason for his comments, his tweets, everything. "I glossed over much of it, but I truly was horrid to you. The more loyal you proved yourself to be, the worse I treated you. Then how do I repay you but by deciding to attack you to release you from my employ after months of honestly trying to be a better friend to you." He shakes his head. "My timing has always left much to be desired... It is a wonder you ever found it in yourself to even attempt to forgive me. I hardly deserve it, but it proves just what a good man you truly are."

Ricardo closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the rarely given compliments by his former employer, smiling slightly when he finally looks over at him once more. "Gracias, Alberto."

He smiles back at the younger man before prying the pages of the magazine apart. "Anything worthwhile in here?" he smirks, turning right to the Jerk of the Month page. "Aha, it is a decent picture, I suppose. Sofia wasn't too amused by having yet another plaque to dust, but she has grown used to it, I suppose, after so many years of working for me. It is good practice for when I bring home the Andre the Giant memorial trophy." Ricardo nods, hoping that his friend's claim is sincere and not just false bravado, that perhaps his win against Big E had eased his uncertainty following the past few weeks. As Alberto skims the article, Ricardo rests his finger to the side of where he's mentioned, Del Rio cringing as he reads it. "Ay," he grumbles, glancing over at him. "Well, that is something I do deserve, I suppose. No one letting me live down the biggest mistake personally or professionally that I have ever made."

Ricardo smiles weakly, eyes lighting up when Alberto nudges him before flipping through the rest of the magazine, the two of them mocking various articles and pictures as they go, passing the time until they can leave to get some sleep before the flight out to New Orleans in the morning, the true start to Wrestlemania week finally on the horizon.

"They have honestly booked you for media with Sin Cara and Hornswoggle?" Del Rio demands the next morning, reading through Ricardo's list of responsibilities. "Ay," he mutters, Spanish rough and annoyed as he skims over the rest of the paper.

"Eh, well, I'm just glad they booked me for anything," Ricardo shrugs, taking the paper back from him before he should tear it in his frustration. Alberto looks over at him, grim, and he shakes his head. "I am not trying to make you feel guilty, El Patron, it's just how things are right now. I'm thankful for what I get." He stuffs the paper back in his bag and moves to get ready for it all, trying not to overthink things as Del Rio's heavy gaze follows him until he's out of sight.

All of them are busy in various ways- autograph signings, ticket giveaways, visiting local hospitals and various other places around New Orleans, visiting fans and doing what they can for the local scene. Axxess events add to this and Ricardo's head is spinning early on, more so when Mike, AJ and Tamina arrive on Wednesday after that week's Main Event. But he loves it; they all do, honestly- nothing is like the vibe that surrounds every moment of Wrestlemania week; there's nothing quite like it anywhere.

When Ricardo receives his itinerary for Axxess the next day, he almost has to laugh. "Eh, Alberto," he calls out to the older man. "If you thought my media events on Wednesday were silly, wait until you see this..." Alberto once more skims the paper, rolling his eyes when he finds that Ricardo will be paired with Vickie Guerrero. "Perhaps Sin Cara and Hornswoggle were better choices?"

Del Rio huffs vaguely and crumples the paper up a bit, remembering all that the Smackdown General Manager had done to them both in the last year- embarrassing him multiple times, repeatedly placing he and Ricardo in matches against each other, despite her so-called worry over how much damage Alberto could do to him. "Perhaps I should have a word with whoever is in charge of these placements," he mutters, handing over the abused paper to his former ring announcer.

Ricardo smirks a bit, shaking his head. "No, El Patron. It's fine, I will deal." And so he does, but Del Rio accompanies him, not surprised to find Miz lingering around as well, AJ having her own autograph signing across the room. Alberto plays on his phone when he's not watching fans going back and forth, and the two hours pass by in a blur, Ricardo vocalizing his thoughts as he walks over, checking the time on his phone. "These things always go so fast," he sighs, smiling at Alberto as he stuffs some things given to him by thoughtful fans into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. "Ready to go, then, El Patron?"

"Si, amigo. I think we should go somewhere to eat, explore New Orleans a bit before we return to the hotel."

Ricardo nods. "Si," he murmurs, following the older man out of the building. He still can't believe that this is his fourth Wrestlemania, especially considering a few months ago he wasn't sure where he'd be career wise. Yet here he is, and with Alberto by his side, no less. Something else he had thought wasn't a possibility, considering all that had gone down between them the past nine months. He smiles.

After the Hall of Fame ceremonies conclude the following night and Axxess is closed up until the next morning, Ricardo and Alberto return to the hotel, both determined to at least try to get a good night's sleep, considering Del Rio has the Battle Royal, and Ricardo will be on the Spanish commentary table for the entire, lengthy broadcast. They prepare for bed quietly, both lost in their own thoughts of the day ahead, only exchanging "buenos noches" before the lights are turned off and they sink into the sheets, quiet overwhelming the room.

Except that... it's not enough. Ricardo finds himself staring up at the ceiling, replaying various parts of the past few days in his mind, the exhaustion he had felt prior fading away as the familiar night-before jitters overwhelm everything else. He sighs and rolls onto his side, hoping that it would help, but no. He ends up staring at the wall instead of the ceiling, growing more and more frustrated as time passes, struggling to relax enough to rest. Rolling onto his other side, now facing Alberto, he grimaces and hopes that at least the Mexican aristocrat is sleeping well.

He's barely finished thinking this when Alberto's bed creaks, the other man turning over as well, now facing Ricardo. They stare at each other through the darkness. "Ricardo."

"Alberto."

"I can't sleep," they say at once, Alberto laughing as Ricardo buries his face in his pillow and groans.

Alberto stands and pulls his shoes on, standing over Ricardo's bed. "Come, mi amigo. I know what we'll do."

A few minutes later, they're walking through the quiet hallway of their floor, Ricardo not sure what Alberto has in mind, but following him anyway, when the elevator dings and Mike, AJ and Alex get off, their conversation immediately cutting off as they take in the two men. "Hola," Ricardo tells his friends, smiling at them as Alberto glances from them to Ricardo and back.

"What are you two still doing up?" Mike asks, clapping a hand on Ricardo's shoulder as he nods at Alberto.

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugs.

"Surprise, surprise, us neither," Alex sighs, looking tired but wide awake all at the same time as he smirks at his roommate.

Alberto hesitates for a moment, taking in the easy contentment on Ricardo's face as Mike and Alex talk on about things they'd been doing the past few days, finally shaking his head and speaking up. "I suppose you may as well join us so Ricardo can hear the rest of these fascinating stories," he says drily, staring at them as all of them look up and over at him.

"Are- are you sure, Alberto?" Ricardo asks, looking a little guilty at forgetting for a moment that Alberto was in the process of going somewhere before he had been held up by Ricardo's friends.

"Si, mi amigo, come, let's go," Alberto encourages him, some of the bitterness leaving his voice upon seeing the myraid of emotions crossing the younger man's face. Accepting that Ricardo has other friends in the business now, his bonds with them growing stronger especially after everything that he himself had put into motion last August, is a process, and he's not sure he'll ever fully accept it, but he's determined to at least try. After all that he had put the former ring announcer through, it's the least he thinks he can do.

A tense elevator ride later, they find themselves on the roof of the building, looking up at the stars overhead as they sit or lay down on the smooth surface. Ricardo is smiling whenever Alberto looks over at him, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight, Alex sitting next to him as they talk now and again. Mike and AJ are standing not far away, lost in each other as they have been since long before their wedding, Del Rio wondering briefly how long that honeymoon phase will last, when the so-called Most Must See Superstar kisses her one last time before pulling away and moving over to join him. "Del Rio."

"Miz."

They stand shoulder to shoulder for a quiet, awkward moment before Mike turns to look at him. "Well. The battle royal is tomorrow."

"How observant of you, Miz," he sneers, glancing over at him incredulously in time to see him roll his eyes.

"I merely am pointing it out because I'm pretty sure we both plan on throwing our all into fighting for this thing."

"Si," Del Rio mutters, unsure where Miz is going with this, or why it should matter at all to either of them. But when he glances back over, he realizes that Mike's eyes are locked on Ricardo, it suddenly clicking with him too. Of course, after everything, the last thing Ricardo needs is more dissension in the group, especially when things are slowly calming down and returning to whatever kind of normalcy they ever are in this mad business. "Ah."

Mike nods subtly, realizing that it's finally dawned on Alberto as well. He turns to face the taller superstar and examines him. "So, may the best man win tomorrow," he says simply, holding his hand out to Del Rio. They both notice when Alex and Ricardo shift, turning their focus onto them, and Miz's blue eyes bore into Del Rio's dark gaze until finally he meets him half way, silently agreeing with his statement as he shakes his hand.

This done, Miz returns to his wife and Alberto sits next to Ricardo, ignoring the knowing look on Alex's face, but glad to see that his best friend's smile has only grown upon witnessing all of this. He smirks and turns his attention onto the stars overhead, thrown both by their beauty and how so very few hours separate them from Wrestlemania now.