Disclaimer: I own none of the WWE Superstars in this story, only the OC Characters and my story idea.
A/N: I've had this idea for a while, so I thought while I'm figuring out the next chapters for Bright Lights, I should have a crack with this one. Hope you enjoy it!
June 27, 2011
"I hate this idea that you're the best. Because you're not. I'm the best. I'm the best in the world."
"There's one thing you're better at than I am, and that's kissing Vince McMahon's ass"
"You know who else was a Paul Heyman guy? Brock Lesnar. And he split just like I'm splitting. But the biggest difference between me and Brock is I'm going to leave with the WWE Championship."
Thud, thud. "Hey watch where you're going!"
"I'm leaving with the WWE Championship on July 17th. And hell, who knows, maybe I'll go defend it in New Japan Pro Wrestling. Maybe I'll go back to Ring of Honor."
Thud, thud. 'Punk, please, stop.'
"...and I'd like to think that maybe this company will better after Vince McMahon is dead. But the fact is, it's going to be taken over by his idiotic daughter and his doofus son-in-law and the rest of his stupid family."
Thud, thud. 'Shit, shit, shit!'
An arm reached out and wrapped itself around the young woman, halting her run through the backstage area of Monday Night Raw. Flattening her palms against the large chest in front of her, Zoe Winters pushed away from the Miz, continuing her path to the monitor bay. She could vaguely hear the former WWE Champion call out to her. All she could hear was her heartbeat. It's all she had heard for the past five minutes. Her eyes watched in terror as Raw went off air, and she noticed the McMahon family standing by the monitors. The entire Raw roster was out watching the monitors. Their eyes all transfixed by what had just occurred. The crowd were deafening outside the curtains, all abuzz with what they had just witnessed. Her fist tightened around the note in her hand. Her eyes met Stephanie McMahon's, as the Creative head made her way over to her, an unrecognisable expression on her face. Before she could even get a word out, Zoe shook her head, knowing exactly what she was going to be asked. The youngest McMahon child bit her lip, running a nervous hand through her hair. Behind her, an enraged Vince McMahon was staring at the gorilla area in anger, waiting for him to emerge. Zoe closed her eyes. This was the worst thing that could've happened. She had no idea what was going to happen to her.
A slow and lone applause broke her thoughts, and her eyes flicked open. Clenching her jaw, her dark eyes met the amused hazel ones opposite her. The entire monitor bay was silent bar that lone wrestler applauding the young woman in front of him.
"And there you have it ladies and gentleman, the woman behind the words-"
The sound of a fist meeting a cheek rang out through the monitor area.
The Miz lunged forward, grabbing Zoe as she tried to swing at CM Punk again.
"You are pathetic," hissed Zoe, struggling out of the grip Mike had her in.
The Straight-Edge Superstar smirked at her, rubbing his sore cheek. "No, I'm the best in the world."
"Brooks!" cried Mr. McMahon, "What the hell was that?"
"Product of your genius creative team," quipped Punk, throwing a wink at Zoe, "I think there's some pent up emotion in that group."
"You piece of shit!" The Miz's grip slipped as Zoe lunged at Punk again, her face contorted in anger, "You lying sack of shit!" Pushing Mike away from her, she held up the crumpled paper in her hand, "We wrote you a script. You.. YOU! You changed it!" She unraveled the paper in her hands, reading aloud the scrawl written across the script, "Sorry, it's clobbering time." Her angry eyes met Punk's again and she shook her head, "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"I'm trying to make things interesting again."
Zoe pushed her tongue into her cheek, a disbelieving smirk curling her lips, "You are a selfish man, Brooks."
The dark haired wrestler tilted his head, his smirk still dancing on his lips, "Sometimes you have to be a little selfish to get what you want."
Stephanie McMahon stepped forward, her face twisted into a scowl, "You have no right, Punk." She gestured towards the assembled backstage crew gathered behind Zoe, "They had everything worked out for your character. For the next few weeks, they had it all planned and you just think you can change it all? What gave you any right to go out there and say all that, Brooks?-"
"Oh give me a break," exclaimed Punk, throwing his hands in the air, "Your genius creative team over there had the most boring plan out for me-"
"You were going to get your match at Money in the Bank!" cried Stephanie.
"But I wasn't going to be Champion, was I?" roared CM Punk, his face red with anger. "They'd decided to recreate the Montreal Screw Job. Oh how fucking original, Stephanie." He waved his hand towards the group of Creative writers, "Your crack team over here clearly do not know what the fans want-"
"You don't care about what the fans want. You only care about what you want."
Punk's neck almost cracked as he spun to face Zoe. The young dark haired woman smirked at him, arms folded over her chest. He all but growled at her, "Excuse me?"
Zoe tilted her head, an almost identical smirk to Punk's, "You're just so bitter about not being booked as Champion-"
CM Punk scoffed, "Did you not hear what I just said out there?"
"Oh poor baby, you're not on any collector cups, programs or other bullshit," She tossed her hair to the side, "The CM Punk that I've watched for years wouldn't have cared about that. You're only caring about the glory now. You used to only care about going out there and wrestling for the fans. You're not CM Punk. You're a pathetic excuse for him but."
Punk opened his mouth to reply, but John Cena beat him to it, "Punk, seriously, just shut the fuck up."
Zoe spun around to face the McMahon family, "We will fix this, don't worry."
Vince McMahon nodded, his face still red, "I would hope so, Miss Winters. You were in charge of the CM Punk storyline." He paused, letting out a sigh, "I'd hate to think what would happen if you were unable to fix this."
Zoe's brow furrowed. How on earth was she being held responsible for this? It wasn't her fault that she was in charge of the WWE's biggest loose cannon. She clenched her jaw, "I hardly think this is my fault, sir-"
"It will be if you can not fix it."
Her heart rate sped up. She could feel the effects of an anxiety attack. She couldn't lose this job. The young girl had worked so hard to get where she was, and her first storyline she was head writer of, was currently self imploding. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, "I apologise, Mr. McMahon. I will do everything I can to fix it."
The WWE CEO nodded. He hated to do this, but he needed to be in damage control right now. An assistant pulled on his arm, "What?" He snapped.
"You have a series of phone calls from journalists asking if that was legit."
Vince McMahon scowled at Punk, "In my office in ten minutes. Go pack your things, while I figure out what to do with you." He turned his attention to Zoe, "I suggest you start rewriting, Miss Winters. You've got a long night ahead of you."
As the McMahon family followed Vince, Zoe tried to keep her breathing in check, her eyes almost brimming with tears, "You didn't think, did you? I hope you're happy." She spun around on her heel, leaving a group of shellshocked wrestlers and one angry Straight-Edger. Her vision started blacking out as she stumbled through the corridors to the Creative meeting room. Her breathing was getting shorter, and she was struggling to stay upright. Before she tumbled to the floor, an arm reached out again to grab her around the waist, pulling her against a hard chest. A familiar scent filled her nose and she bit back a sob, burying her head against the chest.
A soothing hand rubbed her back, "Breathe, Zoe. C'mon, honey, breathe."
"John." Zoe hiccuped, in between sobs, "I didn't do it." She hiccuped again. "I swear."
"I know, baby girl." His arms tightened around her, and she felt him brush a kiss on the crown of her head.
Zoe untangled herself from his arms, her hands reaching up to brush the tears from her eyes. Biting her lip, she glanced at the WWE Champion in front of her, "I need to get to the hotel. I've got to fix this."
John nodded, a sad look on his face as he watched the young woman in front of him struggle to stay composed. Reaching out an arm, he tugged her towards him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "C'mon, I'll take you back." Zoe didn't have the energy to fight him. She let him lead her down the hallway to the meeting room so she could gather her things. The other team members were in there as she piled all her books into her bag. She couldn't look them in the eye. And neither could they.
As her hand reached the doorknob, a team member's voice called out, "Maybe you just weren't ready for this, Zoe."
She was starting to think that too.
The WWE prided itself on being a tightknit family, so naturally, backstage crew and wrestlers were booked in the same hotel. Right now, Zoe couldn't think of anything worse. She kept her head ducked down, avoiding the looks from all the wrestlers. John guided her through the lobby and into the elevator. As the doors closed, she sighed sadly, watching the numbers tick upwards.
"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"
Zoe bit her lip, glancing at John as they left the elevator, "I'm going to be up all night, writing. I've got months of scripts to go through."
John shrugged, a small smile on his face, "I'll be your coffee boy." He grinned to himself when he saw a ghost of a smile flicker on the young woman's face, "Please?"
Her dark hair bounced as she nodded. They reached her hotel room, and she rummaged through her bag to find the room key. John excused himself to go grab the rest of his stuff from his room down the hall. While she searched through her bag, she heard the elevator doors in the background. The footsteps grew closer, as she smiled victoriously at finding her key. From the corner of her eye, she saw him, and paused, almost dropping her key.
"I've been suspended."
"Do you want to meet up to work out the next few weeks?"
Zoe shook her head.
Punk scowled, "Are you mute?"
"Punk. Fuck off."
A/N: Review, Review, REVIEW! Please :)