Upon returning to Puerto Rico, Ricardo loses the Puerto Rican heavyweight title. After escaping back to his hotel room, he stands at the window and stares outside with a blank look on his face. Unlike the time before, when he'd been riding high off of the title win, he doesn't stick around to compete on Sunday. Returns home and drives around Florida for awhile, playing music loudly and trying to forget the feeling of failure coursing through his veins. Soon tired of the hard rock music vibrating through his car's sound system, he returns to Alberto's house, venturing inside with his head lowered.
Sofia hears him, he's sure, because she comes out of the kitchen almost immediately and hugs him gently. "Hola, mi hijo," she whispers to him, stroking his back. He doesn't respond verbally, instead dropping his bag and hugging her back, burying his face in her neck. She makes soft, comforting noises until Alberto comes out of the living room and sees them, freezing midstep. He walks forward after a moment and wraps his arms around both of them, sandwiching Ricardo against the housekeeper.
"I'm proud of you, mi hermano," he murmurs into Ricardo's ear. "I know it wasn't the lengthy title reign you were hoping for, but it is a start... and proves that you look good as champion."
Nodding sheepishly, the former ring announcer pulls away and wipes at his eyes, smiling shakily at them. "Gracias..." His smile fails quickly and he clenches his hands into fists, sniffing. "I miss my belt already," he admits, wiping at his face. Alberto's hand is warm on his back as he leads him into the living room and they sit for awhile, Ricardo relaxing into the silence and comfort of his former employer's presence.
Sofia joins them a few moments later with plates of sandwiches and vegetable slices, Ricardo's face brightening when he sees the food. He hadn't had much of an appetite the day before, anxious over his first title reign, and then the disappointing result... but Sofia's food is always a cure-all, so he begins to eat while Alberto and Sofia exchange relieved glances. "I'll be watching Fastlane with you later, mi hijo," she tells him with a soft smile. "And Total Divas, if you-"
"Oh," he swallows down a bite of meat and bread quickly. "No, no, gracias, Sofia. Paige nor Alicia are going to be on it this week, Paige tells me. You don't need to stay up, I won't be watching the reshow either."
"Alright," she tells him. "If you need me for whatever reason, though, just tell me. It's no problem." He smiles at her, the three of them sitting there and chatting quietly as they eat until the PPV's preshow begins and Ricardo turns it on for MizTV. Alberto excuses himself to handle some business leading into his AAA responsibilities this upcoming week before ROH's 13th anniversary PPV special.
Thus, Ricardo and Sofia are sitting alone, watching quietly as Paige begins her match against Nikki Bella. It's a short match, of course, Nikki eventually stealing the win by using Paige's tights to pin her to the mat. Ricardo grimaces and feels around for his phone, texting her a quick sympathetic message before urging her to call him later. Putting the phone down, he leans back against Sofia and sighs. "I guess we're both losers this weekend."
She tugs on his hand and looks up at him, shaking her head. "I know both of you will continue fighting... this won't be enough to make either of you give up, thus neither of you are losers. They're just minor set-backs." She smiles up at him as he nods. "Right?"
"Of course. Lo siento, Sofia, it's just a disappointing weekend."
"I know, mi hijo. I know." She hugs him, relieved when he shuts the PPV off and finds something else to watch, some random movie that is mindless enough that they're both distracted from the grim wrestling results this weekend.
It doesn't end the next night, though Ricardo has an ok night of training in preparation for his events in Australia in a few weeks. Paige, however, gets knocked off of the apron by the Bellas in a tag team match and Emma, her tag partner, is defeated within seconds. He sighs when he reads the results later on, calling her immediately. "Hola, mi fuerza," he greets her gently.
"Hello, love." She sounds annoyed, but not at him. "This sucked. Those Bellas..." She moves the phone and yells out, Ricardo wincing until she puts the phone back to her ear. "Sorry. I just can't believe how the past few days have gone. I was supposed to be Diva's Champion again..." She stops short and releases a breath. "Oh, love, I'm sorry. I almost forgot, you lost your title Saturday... I should've called you yesterday, I was just so angry and tired, it wouldn't have been a very good conversation. Are you ok?"
"Si, I'm alright. As long as you are," he says softly.
"Yeah, I'm fine. We both just have to keep trying, right?"
"Pretty much what Sofia told me," he agrees, smiling.
"You surround yourself by some very smart women," she comments.
"This is true." He closes his eyes and leans against the wall of the dojo, staring up at the ceiling. "I miss you."
"I miss you too... apparently I've been booked for Main Event, but I'll be home on Wednesday, and we'll spend the day together."
"Sounds good," he murmurs. "I can't wait."
"Me neither, love. See you then."
"See you." Hanging up the phone, he begins skimming through twitter and smiles at all of the tweets including the hashtag #GiveTheDivasAChance. He's not sure if it'll help in the future, but hopes that it will, especially for Paige's sake.
It's not immediate, however, and she teams in another losing effort with Emma against the Bellas. The match lasts a little longer this time, but it doesn't help her emotionally at all. When she returns to Alberto's house, Ricardo greets her on the patio and quietly wraps an arm around her, the two of them content to quietly walk around the yard until they reach the lake and settle in to take in the softly rippling waves.
Alicia is at home, icing her foot on Wednesday night. She had broken her toe in a stupid injury involving her painfully high heels while observing Fashion Week in New York, and since had been taking it easy in the ring, barely able to keep her balance much less actually compete. Alex is at NXT, commentating, and she yawns, the TV droning on as she shifts, bored and impatient for Alex to come keep her company, maybe give her a careful foot rub.
She jerks awake awhile later when the door slams shut, Alex's heavy steps stomping past the living room. She blinks blurrily and listens as he moves angrily through the apartment, her lips parting in surprise. He's normally even-tempered enough, despite his understandably growing displeasure with wanting to compete but not being allowed to, pushed off onto developmental commentary. Her ice has melted, leaving her with a soggy towel wrapped around her foot, so she kicks it off and throws it towards the kitchen sink, not bothering to make sure it enters before walking into the bathroom.
He's standing by the sink, his hands pushing against the ceramic, his head bowed when she enters the room quietly. It's only when he looks up, tired dark eyes meeting hers in the mirror, that she realizes. "Damn, Alex," she breathes, walking up to him and cupping his face, staring at the bruising on the side of his face. "What happened?"
His gaze is dark, his lips pressed tight together. "Kevin Owens," he mumbles, cursing harshly and turning away from her before slamming his fists down against the sink. "Son of a bitch!"
She hugs him from the side, hating herself for not turning on NXT this one time. "Talk to me, Alex. What did he do?"
"He insulted me, and then threw me over the announcer's desk like I was nothing!" he yells out, gritting his teeth. "I'm done. I'm just so done. I've been patient, I've worked my ass off in the gym in the hopes that someone would notice, would do something, and now... now this." He stares up at her. "I'm getting back in that ring, I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll do whatever it takes."
She stares up at him, the band of her ring cool against his angrily flushed skin. "I believe in you, A-Ri. I know you'll do great."
This helps him to calm down, his hands reaching up and engulfing hers. "Thank you, Foxy," he whispers before scooping her up and carrying her back to the bedroom, settling her down on the mattress before laying down next to her. She turns towards him and smiles as he runs his fingers through her hair, searching her face. "I'm going to make 2015 mine," he tells her. "Our marriage... my wrestling career revival... it's going to be the best year ever."
"Yes it is," she agrees with a sweet smile, leaning in to kiss him.
