Alberto and Ricardo walk side by side into the arena for the Royal Rumble, Ricardo shivering as the bitterly cold winter wind bites through his coat. Del Rio smiles at him, neither of them overly thrilled with the weather in the northern states, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. "So you are doing Spanish commentary again tonight?" he asks, nodding towards the folder of notes that Ricardo collects once they're inside and a tech rushes by, handing it over before running off to do something else.
"Si, I am," Ricardo nods, smiling. He had settled in much easier to the Spanish commentary desk unlike the few weeks he had tried commentary on Main Event, Marcelo and Carlos welcoming him better than Mike or Josh had, even if he still disagrees with Carlos quite often. Either way, Alberto is happy for him, that he's found something to do while he sharpens up his ability as a competitor, waiting for an opportunity to make his way back on TV.
"Mi amigo, I'm going to go wait outside of the GMs' office to get my number for the Rumble," he says, distracted by the group of men waiting in the hallway for just that very reason. "I'll see you after the event." Squeezing his shoulder, he grins down at the younger man before warily approaching his fellow competitors.
"Buena suerte, Alberto," Ricardo calls out to him before going in the opposite direction to meet up with his fellow commentators. Ten minutes into the kick off show, they air the footage of the men in Vickie and Maddox's office, the two of them overseeing each competitor selecting their numbers. Alberto gets his first and then insults the others in Spanish, refusing to show them what he's drawn before leaving, a pleased look on his face. Ricardo hopes he'd gotten a good result before turning his attention back to the tag match about to begin.
Anticipation for the rumble itself makes the rest of the night go slowly, or so it seems to Alberto as he wanders around with his number in-hand, smug and confident in what he'd drawn. #27, the luckiest number of the rumble. And I will make it even more so after tonight, he thinks, imagining winning the rumble for the second time with his best friend watching on in proud awe from the announcer's desk, all that he had ruined the last year wiped away with this one victory, leading him onto the road of Wrestlemania where he could become the WWE World Heavyweight Champion. He's not even thrown from this objective when, upon his entering the ring, Batista comes out only a few minutes later, Del Rio's eyes narrowing as he looks over at the interloper.
Sneering viciously, he rushes for him, trying to land an enziguiri when- Batista avoids, and cleanly eliminates him, Alberto staring up at the lights in shock and anger. He's livid, kicking things as he storms through the backstage back to the locker room, not all that surprised to find Mike alone in the room, slowly pulling his clothes on so he could leave as soon as the event ends. But everything fades from his mind as Kane rushes back to the ring and eliminates Punk, sending him right through the Spanish table. Del Rio hadn't been paying full attention, wasn't sure if Ricardo had gotten clear until the camera pans over just enough to show the three Spanish commentators yet again standing to the side, regrouping as hurriedly as they can to continue their work till the PPV goes dark. He and Mike exchange a glance before turning their focus back on the rumble, not wanting to admit how similar their emotions are right now.
Batista wins, and all Alberto can do is roll his eyes and begin to collect his clothes, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be out of this building as well. Ricardo joins them a few minutes later, still looking a bit flustered from having the second announcers table ruined in as many months right in front of him. "Are you alright, mi amigo?" he asks quietly, still kneeling in front of his bag as he pushes his wrestling gear inside of it.
"Si," Ricardo nods, running his fingers through his hair and trying to look calmer. "Are you both ok?"
Mike and Alberto nod quietly, the Mexican aristocrat finally standing and approaching Ricardo with a small smile. "Let's get out of here then." Ricardo nods, though his eyes flicker over to Mike and Alberto considers how, with all of his issues going on, that he's probably alone here tonight. Not quite sure why he's doing it, still absorbing the worry on Ricardo's face, he speaks up. "Are you coming?"
Mike and Ricardo look more than a little dazed at this, the Most Must See Superstar finally getting to his feet a few moments later. "Uh, yeah, sure," he finally spits out, collecting his bag and following them out of the building. Alberto is trying, to everyone's surprise, even his own. He wants nothing less than to force the younger man into choosing between him and Mike, although he doubts he and Mike will ever get along again, but he figures they can be cordial for Ricardo's sake. Especially now, when Miz is alone and Ricardo doesn't want to leave him on his own while he's trying to sort through everything going on with AJ, but it also feels weird for him not being in Alberto's presence now that they're friends again, habits from the past trying to make themselves known again- when they used to travel together, split hotel rooms and even lived together, though Alberto doubts that last one will ever happen again. Ricardo seems happy, secure, at Alex's apartment, and that's all that Del Rio's ever wanted for the other man.
The night passes quietly and perhaps before any of them are ready for it, it's time to leave for Raw, Mike quickly heading off to show his parents around before the show. This leaves Alberto and Ricardo to wander around, check the event board. Del Rio sighs when he finds he has yet another meaningless match against Kofi Kingston, trying not to show just how little he's looking forward to it when he realizes that Ricardo is looking up at him. "Come, mi amigo, let's go see what they have at catering," he says, resting a hand on Ricardo's shoulder and leading him away, though he knows it won't fully distract his former ring announcer from his worries.
However, Miz's parents, Zack Ryder and Miz himself already at catering does that for him, Ricardo smiling at the group of four when they're invited to join them. Alberto finds himself between Ricardo and Miz's father, trying not to sneer too much as Ricardo tells Mike about his scheduled match against Ziggler. Eventually the show begins and they go their separate ways yet again, Ricardo and Alberto leaving with the two last slices of that perro Sheamus' birthday cake as Mike heads off to see his parents to their seats safely and Ryder goes to find Ziggler.
Alberto half listens through the first hour of the show, and then as Ziggler defeats Miz, glances over at Ricardo's grimace. His match is up soon and he quickly collects all of his things, preparing quietly as Ricardo tosses their plates and plastic utensils in a trash bin. "Gracias, amigo," he says quietly once the younger man returns.
"De nada," he says, still looking and sounding awkward whenever Alberto acknowledges things he does now which used to be par for the course with his old job, gratitude very rarely shown for them in the past. He watches as Del Rio moves slowly, still a bit sore from Batista's attack on Monday, which had been aggravated during his match against Sin Cara and the pre-Rumble brawl, not to mention from the Rumble itself. "Are you going to be ok?"
Alberto blinks, looking up in some surprise. Similar to Ricardo having so many changes in their renewed friendship to grow accustomed to, Alberto does as well, after months of having no one to really care about his well-being following his implementing the plan in the first place. "Oh, si, of course, Ricardo, I will be fine," he smiles at the younger man. "I will see you afterwards, si?"
"Of course," he nods, watching as his former employer finishes and leaves the room, gingerly stretching as soon as he's out of Ricardo's sight. His ribs are tender, though not broken, just sore, along with a lot of his body after that Batista bomb and the rough elimination he'd had the night before. He thinks it shows early in his match against Kofi, the pain unavoidable as the other man surprises him with his level of offense in the match. His aggravation with everything only grows when the crowd begins chanting for JBL and the commentator stands up and encourages them, taking the focus off of the action in the ring.
It's a surprisingly long match and halfway through it, both men are down, Alberto staring up dazedly at the Wrestlemania XXX sign hanging over the ring, its lights shining against his pupils as he reflects. A year ago, he was World champion, he and Ricardo's friendship was the strongest it'd ever been, and they were both happy, despite how Big Show kept targetting the poor ring announcer. So many things had changed, to the point where he's not sure what role he'll have on Wrestlemania, if any. It's a sickening thought, his eyes slipping closed as, for one selfish moment, he finds himself wishing that Ricardo was in his corner once more, encouraging Alberto as he used to by slamming his fists against the apron and shouting whatever he could think of to revive him.
This memory will, however, have to be enough as he forces his way back to his feet and, after some more back and forth, finally gains the advantage and sends Kofi crashing to the mat before finishing him off with an enzuigiri. He makes his way back to the trainer's office, allowing him to put icepacks wherever he feels they're necessary while scrolling through texts sent during his match, just for a new one received to stop him mid-sentence. He swallows and stares at it, shaking his head. Is it possible he was reading my mind? he wonders quietly, reading and rereading Ricardo imagining about if he and Alberto should "get the band back together". He smiles mirthlessly. "You've been hanging out with 3MB too much, mi amigo," he sighs.
But the idea sticks with him and, even when Ricardo comes to check on him and neither one of them mentions the tweet at all, it still weighs heavily on Alberto, only fueled by his earlier recollections.
He barely has time to sort out his thoughts when he receives a text notifying him that he's been scheduled in a match against R-Truth on Main Event. He grimaces and mentally changes his plans from going home to heading on to the next town, to see this match through. Successfully defeat yet another opponent beneath him. Except that Truth provides almost as lengthy a fight as Kofi had the other day, and he starts to wonder if perhaps he's lost even more of his fire since losing the World title and it being unified with the WWE title. But finally, after once more resolving himself upon staring up at the Wrestlemania sign, he manages to defeat Truth and leans against the ropes, winded and tired, wondering what Alex Riley is sprouting off about him on commentary.
Not that it truly matters, Alberto knowing that Ricardo's roommate would watch himself, not wanting to hurt the younger man's feelings or put him in the middle of more aimless drama, after everything he's been through the past year. He pushes away from the ropes and looks up once more at the bright, all-encompassing Wrestlemania sign overhead, before venturing backstage. Ricardo isn't here tonight, going home for some more training at the facility. If not for the divas hanging around, arguing and exchanging ridiculous insults, the area would be peaceful, almost calm. Even with 3MB there- he had learned how to, at least, tune them out since they'd started hanging out with Ricardo a little more sometimes, but the diva's shrill voices cut through every possible thought like a knife, leaving him no choice but to listen as he walks towards the main locker room.
The Total Divas cast is bundled together, like the clique they'd become since receiving the so-called honor of having their own reality TV show, and he glances their way for a moment, eyes narrowing as he ponders which one could possibly be at the crux of the rumors that even he had been overhearing here and there before Ricardo could tell him the latest or he could catch the gist while listening to Ricardo and Miz discussing it all. For a wild moment, he wonders if Rosa Mendez would know anything, but immediately dismisses it, sneering. That whole... thing thankfully ended last winter, when her faulty Spanish had embarrassed him one time too many. He's far from interested in reviving it now just to try to get information on drama that he's far removed from. The main point to getting information would be to stop traveling with Mike as much, and...
His eyes narrow slightly as he looks once more towards the women, deep in thought. Venturing closer to the catty divas, he dares listening closer as they continue to discuss whatever inane things are on their mind while they wait for the show to end so they can leave. Nail polish, hair styles, shoes, he thinks, eyes crossing until finally the talk slowly turns to more serious things. He listens for as long as he can before a headache takes hold and he quickly leaves, changing into street clothes as he ponders over the few things he had garnered from the group.
He arrives back in Florida after a less than restful night of sleep, glad to be in somewhat warmer weather after so much time spent in the northern states. His first stop is the training facility and he's not surprised to find Ricardo there, in the middle of a practice match against one of the newer developmental kids, who gets taken out after a sloppy dropkick attempt, the former ring announcer reversing his momentum into an armdrag that he quickly releases just to kick him in the side of the head, knocking him loopy long enough for Ricardo to pin him. As he sits up, he spots his former employer, Alberto's eyes softening as his face lights up in a smile. "Hola, Alberto," he calls out, a bit breathless.
"Hola, mi amigo," he responds, ignoring everyone watching as he enters the ring and helps Ricardo to his feet, clasping his shoulders. "Are you done here?"
"Ah, si, I believe so," Ricardo nods, glancing at the clock before looking around the room. "I think this has been a good session." When the agents overseeing what is going on nod that he can go, he follows Alberto back through the halls to the showers, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. "What are you doing here though, Alberto? I know you don't care for this place-"
"Eh," he shrugs it off, before turning back to his friend. "I overheard something, and since I didn't have anything scheduled for Smackdown, I wanted to come here and let you know." Ricardo blinks a few times, wondering what making the rounds in the WWE locker rooms now could possibly be so important that he'd travel all of this way without letting him know over the phone, before Del Rio continues on, not wanting him to worry for too long. "I have a little... advice, I suppose you could call it, for Miz the next time you talk to him."
He has to smirk at the startled look on Ricardo's face before he begins to explain what he had heard back at the Main Event arena.
