Three wins in a row. It's far from being able to claim a fantastic win-loss record, but it's there. It's his. He's beaten Dolph Ziggler once, and Drew McIntyre twice, and it feels good. Alex Riley steps into Superstars that Thursday, knowing that this night could make or break his momentum completely. Say what you will about Jinder Mahal but he's tough, scratching out quite a few victories against him in the past. I can't let him do it again, he thinks, trying to focus on the evening. Not allow himself to think about anything else. Like Mike and whatever crawled up his ass the past Monday. No, can't think about that at all.
He sighs. It's hopeless. He shakes his head, shouldering his bag. No matter how determined he is to make his record 4-0, the fact that Mike is hiding something else from him continues echoing in the back of his mind like an annoying bell that won't stop chiming, not loud enough to garner a lot of attention, but enough to distract those who can hear it. He's not being nosy, he just honestly wants to help Mike with whatever it is he's got going with AJ, and damn, it really stings that, even after almost two years, the older man still doesn't trust him with things like this. Bet if I hadn't broke away from him last year, he would gladly tell me anything I wanted to know, he thinks grimly. Hell, I bet if Morrison hadn't been fired, he would've told him... But as he likes to tell me, he can take care of himself... so. Let's see how that goes...
He's not sure what goes wrong in the match against Jinder, exactly. He feels sloppy. Slow. A little distracted, sure. But yet again, the Punjabi competitor eaks out yet another victory against him and his slowly growing win record slips through his fingers, his eyes narrowed as he lays on the ring apron, staring up at the lights blinding him. He hits his fist against the mat before getting up, trying to show optimism for the fans still cheering for him, trying to encourage him despite yet another loss.
That Monday, he's wandering around the backstage area when he oversees Miz once more hanging around AJ Lee's office, a stack of papers in his hand. Alex rolls his eyes, turning on his heel and trying to get away before he's seen. He knows, though, that's impossible, unable to ignore the weight of Miz's stare as he walks purposefully away. "Alex. Wait!" He sighs, grimacing though the flood of feelings that his former mentor's voice causes him to experience. "Wait, wait." His running steps slow to a quick walk once he catches up with him, Alex still not turning to acknowledge him. "I'm sorry, ok? Look, stop for a minute, dammit."
Finally Alex does stop, turning harshly to stare at him, lips twitching downwards. "What do you want, Mike? It's obvious you wanted nothing to do with me before Australia so what's changed now? Are you lonely?" Something ugly's whirling within him, something he hasn't felt in quite awhile and he hates it about as much as he does the whole situation, the look on Mike's face. "You miss Morrison and you turn to me, is that it?" He shakes his head, not even sure where this all is coming from, just that he's been through enough the past few weeks with all the secrecy and Miz's sneaking around with AJ. "What do you want?!" He feels like shaking Mike, take that whiplash look off of his face, maybe force him to talk.
He licks his lips and Alex stops, waiting expectantly for something, anything to happen. "I... I." He groans, scrubbing his hands through his hair, down his face. Alex notices distantly that he's shaking but it does little for him, his expression still as tight as before. "I don't want things to return to how they were a few months ago. I don't want to argue with you, Alex."
"Yeah, well, I don't want it either, Mike, but you're hiding things and snapping at me over things I don't even know about, and... Since when do you care about AJ Lee?!" He lowers his voice when Mike looks askance at him, stares at his boots. "I just want to help you, Mike," he says, unable to keep the sadness from his tone. "I can't do that if you won't talk to me."
"Come here," he mumbles, snagging Alex's sleeve. "Come here," he repeats, dragging the taller man through the halls and into an empty locker room, shutting the door behind them. "You have to promise me one thing before I tell you anything."
Alex shrugs listlessly, the fight fading from him rapidly upon his earlier admission. "What?"
"You can't tell John any of this." That attracts Alex's attention and he looks up to find a sort of desperation in Mike's gaze that he hadn't seen in a really long time, probably since the night he'd lost the WWE title.
He steps forward and rests a hand on his shoulder, blinking. "Of- of course, Mike. Mums the word... What is it?" The current Intercontinental champion leans into his touch, breathes deeply. Rubs at his eyes, and looks more tired and worn than Alex has seen him in a long time. He can tell easily that it's not just because of the 18 hour flight back from Australia, worries that it's something serious. "Mike, are you sick?"
The long, awkward pause that follows leaves Alex all the more worried until some of the tension is shattered by Mike's abrupt, rough laugh. "Oh, hell," he grimaces, shaking his head. "No! No, I'm not sick. It's... it's. Well..."
"What is it?" he asks, confused and still worried.
"Just... listen." As he begins to talk, Alex sits down on a nearby bench, floored.
Later on, Mike's words echo in Alex's mind as he watches Raw. They had just finished talking and left the locker room, both men quiet and thoughtful, when a frazzled AJ ran up to them, barely glancing over at Alex as she grabbed Mike. "Miz," she had breathed, a certain look in her eyes causing Alex to back away slowly. "I need you." As he subtly leaned closer to her to listen, Alex left quietly, shaking his head.
Now Mike is on commentary alongside Michael Cole for the next two and a half hours plus, poor guy, and it's obvious he's a little off of his game despite all of the action going on around him, his mind elsewhere. Probably in the same place that Alex's is at currently. Well, Alex thinks, picking at some lint on his sleeve. I wasn't expecting this... Thankfully I don't have a match tonight, I would have no chance of being focused at all. He smiles faintly. Of course Mike would make things interesting... He hopes that AJ will be able to hold her declining sanity together... but as the night proceeds along, this looks less and less likely. How exactly Mike manages to not let on through the rest of his commentary that this is a bad, bad thing, Alex has no idea. "What are we gonna do?" he mumbles, disturbed by how quickly this all is snowballing around them.