Just like that, it's over. Alicia confronts Noam and Rich Swann both, tells Noam she's only been using him but then Rich admits in front of the entire world that it was him this entire time, leaving these packages for Alicia. As a revenge ploy for everything she put Cedric Alexander through. Alicia's face turns blank the longer he talks and Ricardo feels bad for her, especially since he knows she and Noam really were nothing the entire time and in the end, she had chose Ricardo over all of them. She struggles to reign her temper in, finally announcing to everyone within hearing distance that being single is better anyway.

He laughs a little and shakes his head, scrubbing at his face. "Ay, what a mess," he sighs, leaning over sideways and burying his face in the arm rest of the couch. When he falls asleep, he's not sure, but he wakes up on his stomach, with a familiar warmth against his back. Alicia is hugging him, lightly kissing his neck, brushing his growing hair out of her way and continuing her ministrations. When she's aware he's awake, she sits up, weight settled on the back of his thighs, but it's fine, he likes feeling her there, knowing she trusts him enough to hold her and- then her fingers are pressing into the tense muscles of his shoulders, his back, along his neck and he moans into the couch cushion, feeling her chuckle rock through him. She massages him until he's limp and pliable, shifting up enough to roll him onto his back where she continues the process on the other side, his eyes barely open by the time she's done.

She stretches along his body and kisses him long and slow, gently tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth until he stares at her, eyes dazed and dark with need that she eagerly provides, her fingers ghosting against his skin, lips trailing here and there, her skin warm and welcoming against his. As his fingers clumsily run through her messy, curled hair, he thinks, It's not California, but it's still pretty damn good... She's still sun-kissed and gorgeous no matter where they're at and, he thinks, that's good enough for him.

They're melted together against the couch when she looks up at him. "I promise you, I really am done with all of the cruiserweights. I won't hurt you again like that."

He nods. Strokes her hair out of her face and smiles down at her. "So what are you going to do then?"

She looks a little lost for a moment. "I'm not sure. But I'll think of something. Don't worry." Kissing him once more, she rests back against his chest and hums under her breath, content just to be here in his arms.

He trusts her.

-x

Ricardo doesn't do so well with trust anymore. Had lost some of it when Alberto had beaten him up and fired him, lost more when WWE had killed most of his enjoyment of the business and left him spiraling into depression so badly that he had to quit or risk never pulling himself out of a hole so deep he still hasn't fully dug himself out. Lost the rest of it when Alberto and Paige fell into a relationship with each other while he was trying to fulfill his dreams in India. He tries to fight down the bitterness he still has over everything but it wells up within him at the most inopportune times, mostly late at night when the insomnia is bad and he's alone with nothing but his phone and those awful recurring thoughts that makes him hate himself and everything around him more and more each time.

He tries to live an enjoyable life, he does. Teaches young people how to wrestle, sometimes competes himself, goes to concerts when he can afford it. So when he hears that Sevendust is coming to Orlando, it's a no brainer. He drives there, he enjoys one of his most favorite bands ever, and then decides to stay. Because TNA is taping a few blocks away from the venue the concert was at and he has time to see some of the show. So he goes. And he sits there and watches as Alberto wins the GFW World Championship. Celebrates in the crowd, like he did when he won the World Heavyweight Championship after defeating Big Show partially to avenge Ricardo. But this time he's alone, he's unaware that Ricardo's there.

Ricardo watches until his eyes are so blurry that he can't watch anymore, leaving the building as quickly as he can before Alberto catches sight of him, senses him, like he used to... back when they were close, when Alberto always seemed to have a kind of preminition of where Ricardo was at. Back when Ricardo mattered. How Ricardo makes it from Orlando back to Tampa and doesn't crash, he's not sure, but he makes it. He sits outside of his apartment with Alicia and stares up at the sky, counting the stars mindlessly until he decides to go inside. Pours himself a liberal amount of diet coke and vodka into a glass and takes it to the couch, not even bothering to go slow, downing it all at once. Had brought the liter bottle and the alcohol with him, refills the glass. He can already feel the affects of the first glass so he goes a little slower with this one, sipping it until it's half gone.

The apartment is quiet, he assumes Alicia is asleep down the hall. Once more he's left with his phone and his thoughts and the booze, and all of it is a bad combination, but everything's cycling down the drain around him so why not... why not. Nothing that he types makes full sense even to his own, fading gaze, but the words are fueled by pain and diminished passion and the more he types, the harder it is to breathe normally. He wonders if he's hyperventilating but hell who cares at this point, he decides, sending yet another text out. "Burn, baby, burn," he mumbles, envisioning the invisible bridges that never led anywhere drifting away into ash before him.

Alicia's footsteps only just register with him and she takes one look at the empty glass and the phone held between shaking fingers and quickly moves, taking it from him. He wants to be angry with her, lash out and demand his property back, but she's the only one who's stayed with him through thick or thin, and he just can't do that to her. So he sits there and tries to pour himself a third drink but she smoothly pulls the glass away from him, kissing his knuckles as she twists the lid back on the vodka and marches the soda back to the fridge. Every urge to yell at her fades away when he looks up and his eyes focus enough to take in the pain and worry on her face.

He's drunk, can feel it now, taste the sharp bitter sting of the alcohol and all the hatred he's spewed the last couple of hours on his tongue. So he sits there and he stares at his fingers, wondering when exactly every inch of him had become so unrecognizable to his own eyes- ironically enough, he thinks it's when he first took off the Chimaera mask to become something that he wasn't, and was never supposed to be in the first place- but his thoughts are interrupted by whispers, worried little chatter a few feet away and he thinks he can recognize the second voice but he really doesn't want to. Hurts too much to think of him here, after everything he's taken, everything he's done.

But Ricardo pulls together his strength and looks up in time to see Alberto Del Rio reach out and lightly pat Alicia's arm. Is this how it started with Paige? He's breathing rough again, a rattling ugly little sound suspiciously close to crying, and he struggles to get to his feet. Stumbles around the table towards them, grabs at Alberto and misses when his vision tunnels. "No," he chokes out. "No-"

Alberto's fingers are still warm, this side of painful as he turns sharply and grips Ricardo by the arms before he could collapse just shy of his goal. "is ok, I have you," he says while Alicia fusses around them, rubbing Ricardo's back, running for a proper glass of water, anything she can think of to help her boyfriend. "You were at TNA tonight."

"I wanted to be there ... celebrate with you," Ricardo mumbles. "Why... why don't you try to work with me anymore?" He does start to cry now, hot, heavy tears against Alberto's shoulder, his entire body shaking with the sobs.

Alberto makes soft, clicking little noises under his tongue that somehow comfort Ricardo, he's still crying but his shakes subside as Alicia helps him to sip from the water. "Come, mi hermano. Let's get you to bed."

The three of them walk down the hall to the bedroom and Ricardo collapses against the mattress with a weary moan, Alicia running her fingers through his hair until he closes his eyes. He's not asleep though, he can hear them whispering, probably about what a gullible weak creature he is. I won't fall for it again, he thinks before giving in completely to the drunken sleep his body is demanding right this moment.