It's already been four days and Mike still can't take his eyes off of the gleaming white title belt in his hands, how perfect it looks against his tanned skin. Triple Crown Champion, Cole had announced when he'd won the match, and he can't help but think it just fits.
"Still not over it, huh?" the familiar voice of Alex Riley greets him, the younger man grinning as he drops down next to Mike. "It looks great on you, Mike."
"Thanks," he says, looking up for a second. It hadn't been an easy week for A-Ri, with being completely overlooked for Raw 1000 and the other shows of the week, and Internet dirtsheets being, well, Internet dirtsheets. "How are you doing?" he asks, his dark blue eyes flickering back to the title that he can't quite believe is his, after the hellacious turn his career had taken- when he was almost certain he'd never get things turned back around again.
He shrugs, obviously understanding why Mike is asking but not letting it register, his grin not faltering once. Mike admires his resolve, no matter how hard he gets kicked in the mouth by the board of directors and management, he still keeps his dedication to the company, content to try again... and again... and again until he receives a true opportunity. "I'm ok. No planned matches tonight, so I guess I'm here to celebrate your first Smackdown as champion. It could be worse."
His former mentor laughs slightly, nudging him with his knee. "Well, welcome to the party then, kid." The celebration, as it is, gets cut off short when Mike heads to the ring, wanting to brag to the WWE Universe about what he had accomplished- the movie, the fame, the fortune... this title belt victory. Considering how the year had started for him, things were really turning around.
His time in the ring, however, gets cut short when Christian interrupts, announces that he wants his rematch right now. What the point is of this anxiety for another match, Mike isn't sure- the man is still injured, leaving him vulnerable to Mike targetting his knee and... Well, if he wants to lose so badly, I guess I shouldn't complain, the Ohio native shrugs, accepting the challenge.
Despite how rough Christian has to be feeling after Monday, the match is pretty even and Mike starts to worry after a few minutes that his new title may slip through his fingers on the first title defense he has- which, holy crap, wouldn't that suck?- but a quick thinking move later and he gouges Christian in the eye, downing him immediately. To assure he has the victory in hand, he rolls Christian into a pin and pulls on his tights, counting along with the ref as he thankfully counts to three, unaware of the thumb to the eye or the added advantage of holding him down by his wrestling gear. Absorbing the boos and hate echoing around the arena, he stands tall, holding the beautiful white title belt over his head once more. You and I, we aren't going to be separated for a long, long time if I can help it.
Alex has a knowing smirk on his face as he meets Mike in the back, glancing up at the title belt held securely over his shoulder. "Interesting technique, Mike."
"What can I say, if it works, it works. You used to agree with me on that before you went all boy scout," he teases lightly. "Now, enough of this talk." He slings an arm around Alex's shoulders, pulling him along as he marches back to the locker room. "How does steak sound? My treat."
"Big spender," Alex grins, amused as Mike shrugs, adjusting the title belt against his shoulder for, perhaps, the millionth time that day.
"You can even get lobster if you wish. I'm in that good of a mood."
Late, late that night, almost closer to morning, they return to their room and collapse on their individual beds, Alex out almost before his head hits the pillow. They both have flights in a few hours to make it to the next house show but Mike isn't worried, he's not tired enough to sleep anyway really. With Christian's rematch far behind him- at least to his expectations... the Canadian might have different plans but he doesn't really care about that right now-, his focus turns to Raw. More specifically, to Raw's new GM. It had been an idea worming around in his head since she had been named GM, just the thought that finally a GM perhaps he could convince to actually help him instead of sitting behind the so-called protection of being anonymous, or who they're married to, or so-called people power while everything goes to hell around them. Yeah, he thinks. This could work out nicely...
That Monday, he keeps to himself, working out every inch of this plan of his. He doesn't even see Alex until after his match, which, disgustingly enough, ends with Christian getting some payback, thumbing him in the eye and causing him to flounder enough that Jericho gets the drop on him, and the three count. He can't really see, his eye watering against the foreign assault that it had endured, and he starts to wonder if he'll ever be able to open his eye normally again.
As he stumbles to the back, Alex is waiting for him and follows him to the trainer's office, keeping him walking steady whenever he winces and shies away from the bright lights overhead. "It's ok, Mike," he says quietly, a strong grip on his elbow keeping him moving ahead. When Mike tries to rub at his eye, Riley grabs his arm, keeping it away from his face. "No, man, don't do that. You might make it worse. Just hang on, we're almost to the trainer's." Pushing the door open a few moments later, he guides his former NXT pro inside and eases him down on the couch, settling in next to him to wait.
"Thanks," he mumbles, barely able to focus on anything but the burning sting in his eye. "Wait, where's my belt?"
Alex smiles slightly, pressing the title to his bare shoulder. "Right here, Mike. The referee handed it to me in the hallway."
"Thank God," he mumbles tiredly, clinging to it with one hand. "Where's the trainer?"
"He's coming. Just relax."
"I can't see," he responds grumpily.
"I know, it'll be ok. Trainer'll fix you up."
And he does, a quick exam finds that Mike's eye is a little inflamed but otherwise ok, he gives them eyedrops to ease the discomfort and sends them on their way barely ten minutes later once Mike is able to open both eyes. "Told you," Alex says with a small smile as they head back to the locker room.
"Hang on a minute," Mike says when he notices the sign on one of the doors they pass by- Raw General Manager AJ Lee. "I have to talk to her about something. Go on ahead, Alex. I won't be long."
Alex glances from the door to his friend and shrugs, not even questioning it. "Alright, Mike. See you in a little bit."
"See you," he nods vacantly, staring at the door intensely. Unlike Daniel, who had been too worked up to go see her earlier, spending the better part of half an hour pacing back and forth outside of this very room, Mike is the direct opposite. Calm, collected. He could go in and bitch about his eye and Christian cheating costing him his match but he has bigger plans for her.
Adjusting the title on his shoulder, he reaches up and knocks on the door, waiting until she says sweetly, "Come in!" Here we go, he thinks, slowly pushing the door open. "Oh, Miz," she greets him, standing up. "What can I do for you? Are you alright? I heard you had to go to the trainer after your match."
He knows his eye is probably still bloodshot and painful looking but he brushes it off, grinning slightly as he makes sure to keep eye contact with her. She likes men staring at her, well, baby, I'm not gonna take my eyes off of you. It works almost immediately, her professional attitude slipping a little as she smiles back at him, looking almost coy in a sweet, innocent kind of way. It's still ridiculous that such a crazy, unbalanced chick hides behind this facade of hers. But unlike the first Monday they'd locked eyes, he's not going to let her sway him again, distract him from his current goal. "I have something to ask you," he says, leaning closer to her.
As he talks lowly, almost able to see as she hangs on his every word, their eyes locked the whole time, she nods, intrigued. "I think... we can work something out, yes. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miz. I'll look into it."
He grins, eyes flashing when he looks away, the spell seemingly broken as she peers up at him, head tilted curiously. "No, AJ," he says smoothly. "Thank you." She walks him to the door and quietly closes it behind him, his own mask cracking as his calm grin morphs into one very calculating and intense expression. Like taking candy from a baby... That, Daniel Bryan, is how it's done.