The Miz stares at the email he'd received in the early morning hours after Raw, his blue eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Even though he'd heard that Main Event's marquee match- him and Del Rio vs Big E and Wade Barrett- had been announced on Raw, somehow plans had changed, as confirmed by the missive in his inbox. "Mr. Mizanin, As you may have heard, WWE is currently on the look out for a fresh commentary team. It has been decided we'd like to test this new team out on Main Event. Considering you have settled in as commentator the last few months, we would like you to choose who to commentate along with you," he reads off, mumbling through the rest of the email apologizing for the short notice. "Huh."
Putting his phone down, he takes a deep breath, and another. Although he'd been looking forward to the tag match, he also looks forward to this- taking it to mean that, despite his various issues getting anywhere with the Intercontinental title, especially after Wrestlemania, someone in WWE has some faith in him somewhere- so he stands at the hotel window, not wanting to ruin this opportunity. "My choice," he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder at Alex, who's slept through yet another of Mike's inopportune email alerts, desensitized to them by now. Although the kid could be amusing on the mic, he doesn't think it's a good fit for him, especially since he's still determined to find his way back onto television regularly as a competitor. "So, who then..."
Unable to make his mind up, he sits down at the desk and pulls some paper over, falling back on something he rarely has the need to do: lists. First, he writes up all of the commentators in WWE from Scott Stanford to JBL, then draws a line down the sheet and creates another list. This one comprised of the few people in the WWE he trusts, he shakes his head as he draws more and more of a blank. He'd already eliminated Alex from the proceedings, and Morrison is an unfortunate no-go since he's still fired. Zack Ryder could be entertaining, but he falls under the same category as Alex, a young guy desperate to make his own place in the business. Which really only leaves one guy that Miz would ever consider for something like this.
He scoops his phone up and goes out into the hallway, looking over his shoulder to ensure that Alex is still asleep as he places a call. "Hey, Ricardo?"
Ricardo meets Mike at the arena for Main Event, picking nervously at his tux sleeves. "Hola, Miz," he says softly, glancing around before forcing a smile at the Most Must See Superstar. "Are we the first two here?"
Mike half-nods, half-shrugs. "Looks like it." He examines the anxious younger man and smiles faintly, shaking his head. "Don't be nervous, man. You're gonna do fine." Neither Del Rio or Alex are here, the Mexican aristocrat having responsibilities to handle back in Florida before returning for Smackdown, though he'd offered to hang around for Ricardo, witness his first week on the desk firsthand. The ring announcer had encouraged him to go home, do what he needed to do, that he'd be fine on his own, but Mike wonders if that was a good idea in the end. "If you need anything, just remember Josh and I both are here to help you. We remember how it is, starting off at the desk." His decision half-made, he had spent a good deal longer pouring over the known commentators in the WWE, wanting someone he thought would gel well with him and Ricardo, ultimately settling on Josh Mathews- mostly because Cole nor Jerry were what he was looking for, and JBL... well, after some of the things he'd said recently about Ricardo especially, he didn't think it'd be a great idea to make them share a commentary desk. Not to mention that Mike wouldn't necessarily want to be there either, after their own questionable past, despite JBL apparently softening some towards him in the last year.
Ricardo nods, his smile growing a little more sincere. "Gracias, Mike. I'll keep that in mind."
Mike grins as he squeezes his friend's shoulder, hoping that this will give Ricardo a boost in self-confidence, make him more secure in himself. Although Del Rio finally treating him as a true friend had visibly helped, the man is still obviously uncertain, desperate to do things right all of the time and crashing hard whenever something bad happens. After some pre-show discussion, he, Josh and Ricardo settle at the table and Miz takes it upon himself to introduce his friend when the cameras begin to roll, grinning over at him as the first match begins.
Considering how Josh keeps putting both of them on the spot, Mike thinks Ricardo does alright for his first week, stepping in when Josh gets on Ricardo's case a bit for his tendency to ramble on in Spanish when excited, pointing out that he himself took Spanish all four years in high school when Mathews says something about neither of them learning Ricardo's language, trying to put the ring announcer at ease. To his credit, the younger man doesn't let Josh get him down, continuing to chime in at times. When the show ends, the three men slip out from behind the table and Ricardo stands by awkwardly as Josh and Mike exchange farewells, the younger man surprised when Josh turns to him. "See you next time, Ricardo," he says simply, half-smiling at him before leaving the ringside area.
"Uh, si, see you," Ricardo calls after him once he regains control of himself, turning to look at Mike. "Did I completely blow that?" he asks, sighing glumly.
Mike shakes his head, quickly wrapping an arm around him and pulling him towards the ramp. "Hardly, man. We all have to start somewhere, right? You'll get more comfortable in time, don't worry about it."
"I don't think Josh liked me much," he mumbles after a bit, following Mike through the halls towards the locker room to change into street clothes before leaving the building.
"He's just hard to read," the former Intercontinental champion tells him, waving it off. "Don't worry about it. This is just an adjustment period for all of us, everything'll be fine. You'll see." Ricardo purses his lips, staring at him as he sits down on a bench, bowtie held in one fist. "What?"
"I just, I wish... I was as confident as you and El Patron sometimes. Everything comes so easily to you both, while I just... I barely feel comfortable announcing El Patron to the ring. Anything else, and I... freeze. Stammer. Make a fool of myself." He sighs, staring at his feet, barely reacting when Mike sits down next to him.
"Ricardo, do you think Del Rio and I've had it perfect in this business, with our egos? Honestly?" He shakes his head with a dark smirk and scrubs a hand over his face, through his hair. "Me, personally, I wasn't allowed in the locker room for the longest time. Morrison paid for it too, just because we were tag partners. I bet you can remember a number of times Alberto had similar issues just because of his attitude." Mike leans back and nudges Ricardo with his knee. "See, people find it easier to like you because you aren't like us. You don't annoy everyone in a ten mile radius the instant you open your mouth. You keep your head down and you do your job, no more, no less. Not saying when you see an opportunity, you let it pass you by... but you handle things your own way, and it works for you. Like Del Rio's way and mine has eventually grown to work for us."
Ricardo swallows as Mike reaches over and ruffles his hair, sniffing slightly.
"Self-confidence is great. And that's part of why I chose you to be on the desk alongside me and Josh. I want to try to help you with this. But don't try to change too drastically, ok? Alberto and I both like this Ricardo Rodriguez just the way he is." Mike smiles as Ricardo stares at him, nodding faintly. "Good. Come on, man. I personally have to get some sleep, because I'm going to Germany for some media fun this weekend and it's a long-ass flight."
With both Del Rio and Alex back in Florida, it'd been an easy choice for the two men to room together, Mike unsurprised when Ricardo allows him first crack at the shower, sketching quietly while he waits his turn. Ricardo looks up as soon as he comes out, slipping right into his bed across the room. "You can keep drawing, the light won't bug me," Mike tells him. "I know you have issues with insomnia sometimes. Morrison would write poetry at all hours. I'm a heavy sleeper, so don't worry."
"Oh." The ring announcer blinks, then nods. "Gracias, Mike. Um, for everything," he says quietly, before ducking into the bathroom himself.
Mike smiles and rolls over, burying himself in his sheets as water begins to run in the next room. He knows it won't be an instant fix, convincing Ricardo that he's deserving of this chance, and everything else, but he'll keep trying for as long as it takes.
When he lands in Germany and reads results for Smackdown, he feels bad for the ring announcer, remembering with no lack of discomfort how he'd responded to the last time Alberto had lost to Big E. in a similar fashion, and hopes that the younger man is alright. Especially considering he nor Alex are there, leaving Ricardo to deal with the physical and emotional fall out from this all on his own. He sighs, shaking his head, and prepares to leave for his first media responsibility. "Not that I can do anything for them from here," he mumbles.
Despite his not knowing the language, each media stop goes well enough, considering, but even so he's relieved to head home for Raw, looking forward to Payback. He meets up with Alex early on, their arrivals at the arena almost interlapping, and begins sharing tales from the past weekend as they make their way through the locker room, Mike only able to sneer a little as Alex laughs at his issues with the German language, listening to Rammstein not helping him in the slightest.
"Yeah, laugh it up, kid. You go to Germany, see how well you do," he snarks, slapping the former NXT rookie on the back of the neck, perhaps a little rougher than necessary. Alex winces, rubbing the smarting area, as they enter the main locker room, Mike grinning when he huffs.
Mike starts to worry that the show itself is going to be as frustrating as his trip overseas was thanks to the language barrier, but it's really not that bad, although even he has to wonder about his first NXT rookie's instability when Daniel Bryan gets angry at both Kane and Orton and sets himself up in a second match against, of all people, Ryback. He'd had a hand in getting Team Hell No to get along- at least for awhile- so it's weird watching them self-combust now, though he's aware how the loss of tag titles could lead to any team breaking up. After all, it'd been the cementing factor of his leaving Morrison in the dust back in 2009.
He watches for a bit while Fandango competes against Khali, fully expecting him to pull something during the match. He smirks at Alex and stands, deciding to be nearby just in case. "I'll be back in a few minutes." Making his way to the gorilla position, he watches through the curtain as, sure enough, the dancer bails on the match and grabs Summer Rae, walking towards the ramp. Rolling his eyes, Mike pushes through the curtain and sneers at him as he stops short half-way up the ramp. He's still standing there, daring Fandango to come closer, when something harsh impacts with the side of his face, sending him to the ground harshly. He shakes his head and looks up to find Wade Barrett towering over him, adjusting his elbow pad with rough movements. He drops back against the ramp and groans, unsure why he left himself open like that. "Dammit," he grunts, unable to do anything but watch as Fandango leaves.
The referee assigned to his and Barrett's match kneels down near him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "Can you compete, Mike? Barrett wants to start your match now."
Miz blinks again before nodding, forcing himself to his feet with some assistance by the official. "Yes, fine," he grunts. "Let's do this." The match goes back and forth, Mike still shaking off the aftereffects of Barrett's elbow, until Fandango interrupts, dancing on top of the ramp with Summer Rae and distracting Wade from wrapping things up, giving Mike the opportunity to tangle him up in the Figure Four until he taps desperately and rolls out of the ring immediately afterwards, grinning as he stares down at Barrett from the ropes.
He's just made it to the backstage area when he finds AJ Lee standing nearby, her back to him as she watches Kaitlyn and the Funkadactyls getting ready for the upcoming six-diva tag match. He sneers, sneaking up behind her. "AJ." She twitches slightly, turning to stare at him as he smirks down at her. "I hear Dolph will be returning soon. I guess then you will stop being as bored and hopefully leave me and my friends alone, huh?"
Her dark eyes narrowing, she tilts her head. "If you haven't noticed, Mike, I wasn't the one who approached you tonight... but now that you mention it, I've proven in the past I'm quite capable at juggling more than one... interest..." She flips her hair behind her as she skips a bit closer to him. "See, Dolph is my boyfriend, yes, and I love him. But with you... it's a different sort of thing, and Ziggly understands that. He knows I'd never even look at anyone else, when I already have perfection by my side." She presses a finger to her lips and grins coyly. "But I think you have a problem of your own here... See, I've been watching your interactions with Fandango, and compared them to Chris Jericho's. He seemed quite content with flirting and dancing with Summer Rae to get under his skin, but you... the most you have done involving her was humiliate him last week. You've never really touched her, or even looked at her."
He stares at her sharply and shrugs, not understanding. "So? What does that have to do with anything? I don't beat up women."
She giggles. "That's not quite what I mean, Mike. I remember how you'd look at me, like you couldn't take your eyes off of me. A bit like right now, actually. But you've never even tried to get under Fandango's skin like that, through her. One would think it'd be the easiest way, God knows he reacted pretty harshly whenever Jericho used her. But it's like something's stopping you when it comes to her. And I really, really wonder what exactly that could be..." She leans in and pokes a finger to his chest, smirking as he inhales sharply at her touch. "You might want to try to do something about that." Smiling, she turns and skips away from him, heading towards the Bellas.
He watches blankly, swallowing heavily before walking in the opposite direction, taking the long way around the building to get to the locker room without going past her, her harsh gaze already burnt into his skin like an itch he can't scratch. He slams his forehead against the door as soon as he arrives, breathing deeply as he tries to contain his emotions, leaning against it. "Damn her," he breathes, blinking when the door is opened, nearly sending him off-balance.
He looks up to find Ricardo Rodriguez watching him with a frown, reaching out for him before he succeeds at steadying himself. "Mike? Are you ok?"
Alex and Del Rio both are standing behind him, varying expressions of worry and suspicion on their faces, watching closely as he forces a smile at the ring announcer and claps him on the shoulder, entering the room. "Yeah, man. I'm fine. Don't worry about it." He purposely doesn't look at Alex, sitting down and unlacing his boots with jerky movements, knowing that to lock eyes with any of them means he'll lose it for real this time. This is what I get for letting her get close... he thinks. She knows me too well now. Why does she have to be right about this?