Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Warning(s): Slash, Hurt/Comfort, etc.
Worst. Birthday. Ever. Did he have to say more?
Nobody cared that it was his birthday. Nobody. Heel or not, he still had a heart. He was still human. And it hurt to think that nobody cared about him. So, he had lashed out. What else should he have done? He lashed out and acted like a petulant little brat. And now that he looked back on it, he realized the real reason that nobody cared. Nobody cared because his antics had become a bore. Overdone. Hackneyed. Cliché.
He stormed back to his locker room and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His suit jacket was ruined, wrinkled beyond belief, and soaked with water. He tore it off, disgusted. His shirt followed suit. And then his pants, his undershirt, his shoes… all of it fell to the floor. He stood in his underwear and stared at his reflection. Bruises littered his skin and he just felt small, defiled. His appearance made him sick.
Before he could further ail himself, he dressed in jeans and a lose t-shirt that read 'Caution: I'm Awesome, You're Not' on the front. He threw his belt over his shoulder and walked out toward the parking garage. All down that long, lonely hallway, the other stars laughed at him. They stared and ridiculed him, and when he returned their look, they turned away and mocked him in quiet tones. Worst. Birthday. Ever.
Mike climbed behind the wheel, started the engine, and tore out of the lot as fast as he could. He was afraid. He was afraid to face the truth. Maybe he wasn't actually 'Awesome', as he often claimed that he was. Maybe he was only an asshole afraid to admit that he was lonely, that he needed the boos to make himself feel alive. But he wasn't about to admit that he had been talked down to by a woman.
When Mike arrived at the hotel, before any of the other stars had even left the arena, he used his keycard to enter his room and stormed inside. Soft snores from the bed told him that his lover, Alex Riley, was already knocked out cold. That only made him feel worse. Alex wasn't even there for him to vent to. He couldn't tell him about how awful his day had been. He couldn't tell him about how rude Larry King had been. He couldn't tell him that.
But that was when he saw the little box on the table by the door. It had a fancy bow fastened to the top, as well as a card which was taped to the side. Mike smiled a little bit, walking over and taking the card in hand. He pulled off the blue paper around the card and read the title. It said 'Today Is A Special Day. Do You Know Why? It's Your Birthday!' Mike smiled at the cheesiness of it.
So you thought that I forgot your birthday? Well, how could I do that? That's not exactly fair. And after the night you've had, I think you deserve something a little special. I hope you like it.
Mike opened the box. Inside, there was a necklace with a shiny Intercontinental Championship on the end. It was an exact replica of the one that he had, even down to his name stenciled on the little name plate. It was absolutely perfect. Mike smiled, walking over to Alex and climbing into bed beside his lover. All of the energy was suddenly zapped out of him and he was so, so tired. He kissed Alex's forehead and smiled.
Maybe this birthday wasn't so bad after all.