A/N: So I mentioned an announcement a few days ago. There's actually a couple of them. First, I'm beginning a new fic series tomorrow, a Digimon/WWE crossover. I plan on it being updated weekly, and more information on who will be in it (Digimon AND wrestler-wise) is listed on corneroffandom's Tumblr account. If interested, go look there please.
And my second bit of news. Years ago, I posted a series of videos called "corneroffandom chronicles" that I would upload, answering questions about my stories or general things that people were curious about. With so many fics and such in process, I've decided to bring it back. Depending on the amount of questions received, I will probably upload new videos at the start of each month to answer them all. So if you have a question, please leave it here in a review (specifying that it's for CoFC), or on corneroffandom's twitter, facebook or Tumblr accounts. Thanks!
"Well, don't you look sharp, mi amigo?" Del Rio asks, smirking as he takes in his former ring announcer in a bright white suit, looking nervous and a little uncertain as he glances over at the Mexican aristocrat. Observing the doubt in his eyes, Alberto shakes his head. "Sincerely, Ricardo. That suit looks good on you."
"Ah," he mutters, growing more flustered at Alberto's honest compliment. "Gracias." He smooths down the jacket, fumbling a little bit with making the dress shirt under it lay right, until his former employer steps forward and helps, it somehow all settling correctly for him within minutes. "Muchas gracias, El Patron."
"Are you ready for all of the commentary to be done tonight, amigo?" he asks, sitting back down on a nearby bench, continuing to lace up his boots. The battle royal is fairly early in the card and he wants to be prepared for it, not scrambling at the last moment like he imagines some of the perros he will be competing against will be.
"Si, I think so," he says, sitting down next to him and running his hands through his hair. He casts a glance over at him, smirking slightly. "Commentating the battle royal should be interesting."
Del Rio nudges him, smirking back. "You best say only nice things about me, mi amigo. It is Wrestlemania, after all."
"Of course," he says, false innocence bleeding from every inch of him.
Alberto laughs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes fondly at the younger man. Though he knows anything Ricardo says is to further along their supposed animosity, and thus he can't fault him for any of it, especially after the interview a couple weeks ago.
By the time the battle royal finally arrives, Del Rio lasts for a really long time in the match, and he starts to think he might actually win this thing, Sofia's reaction playing in his mind as she gets yet another new trophy to dust, but no- almost as soon as he finishes thinking it, he feels himself flying over the top, where he hits the floor hard, two men away from winning. He stares up in shock for a long, tense time, gingerly making it back to his feet where he catches Ricardo's eyes, nodding subtly at the man before he grimly makes his way backstage, ignoring everyone as they react to his last-minute elimination.
He had been so close... Mike looks about as he feels, though their eliminations had been so vastly far apart, but they barely speak as they watch the rest of the PPV in AJ Lee's locker room, any awkwardness Del Rio would ordinarily feel being in here without Ricardo diminished when he compares it to staying out in the halls with all of the mocking faces of those he hates the most.
And he's even more relieved for it when he's not alone in glaring viciously at the TV as Batista stares Ricardo down, shaking a monitor at him while yelling at the younger man. AJ watches on, shaking her head in quiet amusement, as the two men stand side by side in front of the monitor, exchanging ideas on what to do to Batista as the Spanish commentary team back away while Daniel Bryan is combo Batista Bomb-RKO'd through the table, the both of them, for once, in utter agreement over something.
On top of that particularly hard to swallow disappointment of losing the Battle Royal, he's not booked for a match on Raw. But yet again, his problems seem far away when he looks at the match board and sees something that leaves him even angrier, hands tensing up into fists at his side. "Ay," he snaps, turning on his heel and stomping back towards the locker room, pausing in the doorway to stare at his friend.
Ricardo is blissfully unaware of what's going on beyond this room, talking with Alex about his plans to resume training, try to get back into the ring and off of commentary, the roommates in the same boat when it comes to actually being booked for something other than their voices. Del Rio loathes having to take that from him, but he knows he has to. Won't let the ring announcer get sucker punched by yet another needless oversight by someone he had once considered an amigo. "Ricardo? May I speak to you? In private?" he asks, dark eyes flickering over to Riley for a moment before focusing back on his best friend.
"Eh, si of course, Alberto," he says, excusing himself from Alex and following Del Rio over to a quiet corner. "What's wrong?"
"I saw on the match board, mi amigo." Alberto hesitates, unsure how Ricardo will react. What the end result of this will be. "RVD is back. He has a match tonight." He watches as a strange cascade of emotions crosses the younger man's face. Surprise, hope, even some trepidation. It hurts to watch, Alberto's hand tight around Ricardo's shoulder as if he's afraid, should he let go, that the ring announcer will disappear.
"He is?" he asks, mindlessly checking his phone. "He... didn't say anything..."
"It appears that that is his style," Del Rio says dryly, watching Ricardo as he puts his phone back in his pocket, disappointed. "Mi amigo-"
"I need to talk to him," he says quietly. "Perhaps he just thought- I was busy with training, and interviews, and all... but if he would like me to continue as his ring announcer..." He hesitates and looks up, doubt joining all of the other emotions on his expressive face. "Lo siento, Alberto, I know how you feel about him, but-"
Alberto stares into his eyes and just knows. He can't keep him from something that could potentially put him back on TV, make him happy again. Not after everything he himself had done. "No apologizes, mi amigo. Go do what you need to do. I'll... I'll be waiting here when you return."
He nods sharply and walks away, shoulders held tense with nerves, no doubt. He's only gone for a few minutes before he returns, his face blank. Alberto knows though, can tell by how his hand trembles at his side, what Van Dam had said. Cursing the man as violently as he had Batista barely twenty four hours earlier, the Mexican aristocrat steps forward and wraps his arms around his former ring announcer, feeling horrible for him as Ricardo clings to his shirt and trembles. He says nothing, simply running his fingers through Ricardo's dark hair until he relaxes and slowly pulls away, eyes red but dry as he walks past Alberto and sits down, clearly needing time to himself to think. It hurts, but Del Rio gives him just that.
Ricardo looks as glum as he did after he'd first seen RVD even while Cesaro and Swagger compete later that night following Cesaro's clarification that he's a Paul Heyman guy after all, Alberto grimacing. Mike had seemed unaware of the former ring announcer's turmoil earlier, busy with his wife and the upcoming filming schedule for Marine 4, but Del Rio had known Ricardo much longer than anyone else in this room, could spot the signs easier. He closes his eyes. On top of all that, AJ had lost her title at the worst possible time, leaving Ricardo to potentially share a locker room with, among others, the man who had given him little to no warning before he'd left the company back last fall, and even less upon his return. Del Rio sighs and nudges him, smiling slightly when Ricardo looks over at him. "Mi amigo?"
"Si?" he asks, blinking as Del Rio glances around before leaning into him, glad to see that most of the competitors are out of the room so they have some privacy.
"These perros, they can switch from the meaningless claim of Paul Heyman guy to Zeb Colter guy all that they wish..." He grins to himself when Ricardo stares at him, all thoughts of RVD's silent return fading away at the intensity behind Alberto's words. "The only thing that truly matters is that I am, always have been, and always will be a Ricardo Rodriguez guy."
Ricardo's eyes widen, the former ring announcer looking younger than Alberto can remember ever seeing him. "De verdad?" he asks weakly, looking away and staring at his hands
"Si," Alberto says simply, tapping his knee. "Siempre."
Ricardo's smile when he looks up a few moments later eases Alberto's displeasure at what has happened the past few days, his disappointment at the battle royal, all of it. "Gracias, El Patron."
"De nada, mi amigo." Alberto squeezes his shoulder, pleased at even this small victory. After all, in this business, with the way things have been going lately, he'll take them where he can get them.