After some sleep, and a video chat with AJ and Sara, Mike feels a little better emotionally. Except that he's angry. Bitter that, for all of his work, the intercontinental title will not be competed for at the PPV. That instead, he gets trapped in this stupid six man match. He closes his eyes and exhales, wishing that he could go home, work it out with AJ, but instead gets on the flight to New York. Prepares to do what he does best, and promote the hell out of the upcoming Summerslam, despite his pathetic placement on the card.
He meets so many people, does so many interviews, all of the little photo ops, explores New York hospitals and wherever else he's told to go. It would make anyone else's head spin, but he handles it all like the old pro he is. And despite the smile he puts on his face, the steadiness of his grip when he shakes other people's hands, he's shaking in anger internally. Holds onto that bitterness, that anger, until he walks into the arena to wrestle against Jason Jordan and the Hardys... to find it entirely empty. Very few people fill the stands, and he grits his teeth until his jaw cracks.
Maryse's hand slips into his and she squeezes comfortingly, trying to get his head back in the game. He breathes heavily, glancing at her, before making his way down to the ring. Tries to continue acting unbothered by it all- it may be no big deal for Jason Jordan and the others to be used to such a meaningless crowd, but he is Miz, the A-Lister, movie star with five movies under his belt and constant demands for more, so many title belts won in his illustrious career that no one can keep track of them all!
He enters the ring, plays to the few people in the crowd he can actually see, and watches from the apron as Axel and Bo take turns, letting him in sometimes. They work together seamlessly, keeping the advantage against the other three just enough to defeat them. Mike feels some smug pleasure about that, about taking out Jason Jordan on his first solo-PPV attempt as Kurt Angle's son, but the disrespect still eats at him.
AJ looks worried when they talk later, the words barely fitting past Mike's gritted teeth. He blows kisses to her, to their daughter, promises to call them again tomorrow after Raw, and hangs up to stare into the darkness and pretend to sleep, Maryse's breathing soft and fixed from the other bed. He rolls over, buries his face in the pillow, and screams long and low, trying not to wake her up. He clearly fails when she shifts, gets up and pads over to his bed, running her fingers through his hair. "It's ok, Mike," she says, her accent thick with sleep. "It's gonna be ok." She sits with him and continues to run her nails through his hair, soothing him until reality disappears and he sleeps a dreamless sleep.
Things are clearer when he wakes up, a little calmer. The humiliation of wrestling in front of a handful of people is a distant memory. Maryse greets him with coffee and a breakfast sandwich from a deli down the street and he smiles at her thankfully before chewing slowly on the egg and sausage combo. "Raw tonight," he says with a sigh. "Wonder what I'm going to do since I beat Jordan."
She shrugs. Sips from her coffee. "I'm sure it'll be awesome," she offers with a coy little smile, relieved when he actually laughs at her.
He's a little more cheerful after breakfast, meeting up with Heath and Rhyno, Axel and Bo outside of the hotel. Heath hugs Maryse and kisses her before nodding at Mike. "Alright? Saw your match last night... kinda rough, but a win's a win, huh?"
Mike nods. "Yeah, that is it." He claps Heath on the shoulder. "Come on, guys, let's get going." The sooner we get through tonight, the sooner I can go home to my wife and daughter." Despite not being as sad over not being there for every pivotal moment of Sara's life as he had been the week prior, it's still an ache deep inside, not being able to see either of them all week, and he's glad that it's officially less than 24 hours before his flight from New York to California.
He's not surprised when he arrives to find there's nothing planned for him. No match, no Intercontinental title defense, nothing. Even Jordan avoids him by challenging Finn Balor. Mike rolls his eyes, grips his title hard, and stares at the monitor, waiting for his best opportunity to stir up trouble. And it comes when both Roman and Cena are in the ring, boring the crowd more than usual with their weak attempts at drama. So he goes out and pours everything out, all of his anger, all of his frustration, everything that's been building up since Jordan began circling his orbit. Of course Cena challenges him to a match with he and Roman against Mike and one of the Miztourage, but before he can say anything, or choose, Samoa Joe's music hits and Joe makes it known he will be Mike's partner.
They don't get along well. Mike's ego mixed with Joe's aggression and anger, well... Yeah. He bites his lip after Joe lets him know exactly where his place in this temporary partnership is, exchanging glances with Maryse and the others. Forces himself to nod, bear it. It's just one night, he reminds himself. I'll be fine. Somehow.
But not really. Things fall apart, Mike thinks he has Cena after Reigns accidentally punches his partner, but this doesn't work out. He suffers another blow thanks to his ego, Cena recovering in time to reverse his Skullcrushing finale attempt into an Attitude Adjustment and pinning him. All Mike can do after that is lay on the floor, stare up at the lights and ignore both Maryse's attempt at comfort and Joe's angry yells at him.
After another restless night- one that Maryse isn't there for because she's sharing rooms with Heath once more-, he's forced to trudge wearily through the airport just to board his flight to get home. His eyes are gritty, his thoughts are scattered, and nothing makes sense until he hears California on the overhead speaker. Then his mind clears a little and he smiles, counting the hours until he can see his family again.