A/N: Does this make it better in any way?

Probably not, but damnit, I'm trying. I really am.

Kind of an underlying message, I suppose. Wait…that would be strange. I kind of had to tweak the real life situation around to fit this fic.

Oh, well. I know you understand.

As with the other oneshot, this is for a friend.

Disclaimer: I don't own this song or John Cena, Mr. Kennedy, or Randy Orton, nor would I like to own the song or any of the three previously named wrestlers.

I don't know this song very well. I got the lyrics from lyricsdemon, so if they aren't correct, I have no idea. You'll all get the point, though.

John placed his Coors Lite back down on the table he was sitting at with his close friend, Brittany. "I don't know what's wrong with you, Brittany. How the hell am I supposed to know if you don't tell me?"

Brittany turned her head and looked out at the horizon. They were sitting on backyard deck at John's house in Tampa, Florida. It was a Floridian fall evening. The sun was setting, leaving an orange glow around the backyard.

"John, how long have we been friends?"

John leaned back in the wooden deck chair he was sitting on. He stretched out his arms and placed them behind his head. "Oh, I don't know."

"John, you always say that. 'I don't know.' What do you know, then?"

"I know how to F-U Edge through off a ladder and into two stacked tables," he grinned.

"You're still living off of that? Damn, get over yourself."

"I'm kind of hard to just simply get over, Brit." If it was possible, his conceited smile grew even wider.

I'm holding on your rope
Got me ten feet off the ground
And I'm hearing what you say
But I just can't make a sound

Brittany rolled her eyes in disgust. "You're really full of yourself, you know. I think that's the only reason you're still doing it. You just like the fame. You just like the girls screaming for you every night. You just like being a household name. And I bet the money doesn't hurt, either."

"You never had a problem with it before."

"Yeah, well you weren't being a complete asshole to me before."

"How the hell am I being an asshole to you?"

"Well, you're using language like that, for one."

"Brit, you know I'm joking."

"It's hard to tell anymore."

"You know I'm one big jokester," John laughed. "I'm just a big kid."

"I know."

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

Brittany took in a deep breath. "Well…"

"Come on. Out with it," John urged.

"When was the last time we talked?"

"About two seconds ago, or right now."


"I'm not sure, Brit. I've been busy."

"John, it's not that! You've ignored me for the past two weeks. You haven't answered my calls or texts. How hard is it to call me back for two minutes? How hard is it to type a couple of letters into your phone? Or are your fingers too big for that just like your ego?" After her little rant, Brittany pushed herself off of the deck chair she was lounging on and got up to leave.

John stood up and cut her off when she tried to go back in the house. "Whoa, Brit. Please, settle down. I've been busy, honestly. You know that. Really, I've had a lot of other things on my mind. I've barely been able to get back to even Randy since I've been injured. I've got all that movie work and--"

Instead of coming back with a smart comeback of some sort, Brittany wrapped her arms around his waist. Shocked with her actions, John returned the hug.

"John, you're pretty much my best friend. I need you in my life…really."

"I know, Brittany."

You tell me that you need me
Then you go and cut me down
But wait
You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around and say

They both went back to their seats. "Brit, how can I make this up to you?"


"Yeah, honestly. I want to fix this."

"I don't know if you can."

"But I said that I was sorry."


That it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

"…Sorry isn't good enough. You hurt me by ignoring me."

"Then give me another chance. I'll make it up to you somehow, someway."

"Is that a line you feed to all of the girls that you disappoint?"

"Only the ones I care about."

I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat
But that's nothing new

"John, things aren't as simple as they used to be way back when. You can't just smile at me and say that you're sorry."

"I'm not Superman."

"Everyone thinks you are. Why can't you be?"

"You think I'm Superman?"

"No. Superman was way better looking than you."

"Thanks, Brit."

"Besides, I don't think you could pull off the red and blue tights."

"Very funny. But please, explain to me why things aren't simple anymore."

"Oh, just because."

"Hey, that's not fair," John laughed once again as he sipped his beer. "You called me out on saying 'I don't know.' I'm calling you out for saying 'Just because.'"

Brittany didn't answer. She sat staring at the sunset, twirling her thumbs. She was gently rocking back and forth against the hard back of the wooden chair. She thought to herself and smiled. "I used to love you, John."

John's head snapped in her direction. They had both been watching the sunset for a while now. "What?"

"Yep. I used to love you."

Instead of the statement properly registering in his head, John blurted out, "Why don't you anymore?"

"I still do, John. That's right. I. Love. You. Just…not as much as before. I mean, I could once more, but it's because of the way you've been treating me lately. Do you know what it's like to love someone so much and watch them destroy themselves week after week on television? I can't be there to save you. You have no idea how much it hurt to see you hurt yourself against Mr. Kennedy." Brittany spoke ever so calmly that John was afraid that she was going to explode at any second.

I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue
And you say
Sorry like an angel, heavens not the thing for you,
But I'm afraid
It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologizes, it's too late

John stared at Brittany whilst she continued to stare out at the gorgeous Tampa sunset. Neither one spoke for a long period of time.

"I fucked up big time, didn't I?"

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize
I said it's too late to apologize

"Yes, you did. But you can always make up for it. You always do."

I'm holding your rope
Got me ten feet off the ground

A/N: I tried.

Did I fail?

Well, only one of you can tell me that.