A/N: This just popped in my head…again. Oh yeah, this pairing def. pwns its opponent pairing, even though John Cena still sucks and I'm not too fond of Massaro right now.

I'm not supposed to love her.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that she isn't lovable. Ashley Massaro has got to be the kindest, gentlest, sweetest, and most caring individual I've ever had the pleasure of meeting in my entire life. And I've met a lot of people, so that's really saying something about her.

It's just that…a guy like me is never supposed to go for a girl like her. I know, that's such a high school statement, and I should condemned to death row for still using labels and stereotypes. But seriously, how often does that happen? The popular jock with the punk princess? The one everyone loves with the one that everyone is afraid of? That doesn't really ring any bells to me. Sure, it happens in the movies, but this damn sure isn't a movie. If it was a movie, I wouldn't be standing here on this fall morning.

I still blame myself for this whole thing. If I paid a bit more attention, this wouldn't have happened. Granted, we wouldn't be together, but I'd still see here everyday backstage, admiring her spunk from afar.


It was the post Wrestlemania 24 party at a local club.

John had gotten pinned by Triple H in the main event. Triple H had won the triple threat match to win the WWE Championship from Randy Orton.

As for Ashley Massaro?

She and Candice Michelle had interfered in Maria's title shot against Beth Phoenix, but it didn't work. Santino called Carlito down to the ring, and he spit apples in both Ashley's and Candice's faces. Beth hit her finisher on the poor Maria, sending Santino Marella into a comedic frenzy. He even ripped up a copy of Maria's Playboy issue in his anger. He picked her up, flung her over his shoulder, and headed to the ramp. On the way out, he threw the shreds of the magazine at the other two former Playboy cover girls who were still picking apple slime out of their hair.

At the party, John had been trying to fend off the ever persistent Torrie Wilson. She kept hitting on him and wanted to help John "ease the pain of his Wrestlemania loss." In reality, John never had any interest in the older woman. For a long time now, he had been harboring secret feelings for Ashley Massaro.

John just stood at the bar all night until something caught his eye. Leaning back against the bar, John paid close attention to the altercation just mere steps away from him.

"Paul, I don't feel good, alright? I'm going back to the hotel," Ashley pleaded to her boyfriend, Paul London.

"Ashley, just come and stay for a while longer. It will be fun," Paul begged. Clearly, he was a bit drunk already, slightly slurring some of his words.

"I'm out," Ashley replied, rolling her eyes as she turned around. John thought that Paul would drunkenly beg her to stay, but instead, his attention was diverted to a brunette waitress making her rounds, collecting empty cups.

Do I go after her? John thought to himself as Ashley passed by him for the final time.

I know what you're thinking. If she passed by me for the final time, that means I went after her, right? I stopped her and swept her off of her feet in true John Cena fashion, right?

If only that were true. In fact, it's really probably one of the furthest things from the truth.

I never saw Ashley Massaro in person ever again. It's not like she just picked up everything and left the WWE because her boyfriend was a certified douche bag. But maybe if she really did do that earlier in time like she wanted to…


Pre-Wrestlemania 23, Paul was getting ready for his tag team battle royal dark match. Ashley was getting prepared for her title match against Melina. In fact, the two Divas were already going over the match together.

"Ashley, you'll do fine," Melina said, trying to boost Ashley's confidence before her first major match.

"Yeah, right, Ashley. You haven't been training for shit lately. Just give it up," Paul said as he walked past on his way to the gorilla position.

Ashley's jaw dropped as she watched him pass.

Later that night…

Ashley knew she did horrible. She secretly was comparing it to the infamous Jackie Gayda and Chris Nowinski versus Trish Stratus and Bradshaw match with all of those botches. She had been crying when she ran into John, who was going to warm up for his main event spot against Shawn Michaels.

"Ashley, I just wanted to say that you showed a lot of heart out there," John said, trying to hide the fact that he had been crushing on her for almost a year now.

"I want to quit, John," Ashley cried, wiping her eyes.

"What? You can't quit. There's times that I want to quit when I'm out there getting my ass booed, just like it will be tonight, but I stay strong, just like you need to. Just hold up."

"I…um…thanks, John."

"Don't mention it."

Now all I have left are pictures and memories.

After the party for Wrestlemania 24…

She deserved better. It's still really hard to talk about, but I try to carry on.

She was heading for her car to leave, I guess. Well, some asshole came up behind her and mugged her. She wouldn't give him anything. Ashley was a tough girl, but sheer strength can't overcome the edge of a knife. He ended up grabbing her and putting the edge of his pocket knife to her throat. Well, she still didn't agree with him, so he…

He slit her throat and stole her car. I believe he was caught. After all, the car was a rental, so the rental company wanted their car back and used their connections to find it. The guy is in jail now, thank god.

But that still doesn't bring her smile back.

I don't come here as often as I should. Her grave reminds me of the rest that have passed as well. I think of Eddie the most.

I blame myself more than anything. If I had just gone after her like I wanted to after Paul was being a dickwad…maybe she'd be here with me. Maybe I'd have a different kind of blonde in my arms.

"John? Can we go now? I'm getting cold," Torrie said, interrupting my thoughts. Yeah, I ended up settling for her.

I guess the punk princess really can't be with the popular jock.

Damn reality.