#-punk

Then at the end of the show, I had to cut a promo about caffeine and let's just say, I am natural dynamite, and Phil really loved that. It wasn't until I was called up to the live shows that I saw him again. Actually, the first time I heard his name was when Fit Finlay pulled me aside asking I had my gear on me. I said I did and asked why and he told me that I can thank Punk for it. He had an arm wrestling contest with Fit and he won. The best was that I would make my first official in-ring debut in the WWE. I was in and out of the brands for a year or so until I actually came up through the Smackdown brand to be Daniel Bryan's girlfriend. Originally, they wanted me with Daniel and they were going to make us a nerdy power couple. By this point, Punk had become a mentor to me at work. My first day on the road, as I walked into catering, with the same insecurity and nerves of a new student walking into the school cafeteria, he had called me over. I had never met him, only heard stories of him being a mercurial curmudgeon, so naturally I was surprised. The simple act of inviting me to sit down eat his table alleviated so much stress of finding somewhere to fit in on the road. "Let me know if anyone fucks with you, Kiddo." "Kiddo" was an annoying moniker he gave me to remind me that I was about a decade younger than him. In turn, I gave him the nickname "Grandpa". While I completed on NXT, he provided sage advice and encouragement. As said earlier in this post, he delivered color commentary for the show and always made sure to "put me over" or speak fondly of me, while ruthlessly mocked the rest of the girls. I think he was indignant about the fact that while the other commentators audibly drooled over there est of the contestants, they would only mention that I was diminutive and scrawny. His words of support of different kinds of beauty and it let me know that he had my back. When we started working together, our dynamic became that of a big brother and little sister. We had practically nothing in common besides the love of comic books and belief that marriage was a ridiculous societal expectation, but we could talk for hours. We would seek advice from each other about the people we were in relationships with and share horrifying dating stories. Through these stories we learned each other's flaws, mistakes, and embarrassing pasts. But neither of us went running in the other direction. We apparently didn't scare so easy. He would bring me Starbucks coffee every day at work and mock me for being a chubster who always wanted extra whipped cream. This would soon be how he listed me in his phone: "Extra Whip." Because as he explained, it represented how I Was smart and feisty and also kind of a cow. He remained listed as "Grandpa" in mine. When we realized that we both had a bipolar parent, it connected us even more strongly. If I needed someone to talk to when I was frustrated about still having to support my family while trying to save money for my future, Phil would meet me at a Denny's at 2 AM and listen. When I was frustrated with work, I would call him from my hotel and he would listen to me whine over the phone for hours.

Our ability to trust in each other made sense. We had both grown up in impoverish, chaotic homes and used wrestling to pull ourselves out. We had both spent the majority of our adult lives trying to undo the handiwork of our parents. We put our guards up around most people, having learned the hard way that not everyone could be trusted. We were both independent after earning everything for ourselves in life. Neither of us was prototypical, and though we were underdogs, we came out on top.

As our friendship grew closer, we simultaneously began fighting a lot. The most trivial things would send us at each other's throats. "Why did you leave the building without saying good-bye to me?" he once furiously texted me before ignoring me for a week. But no matter what random nonsense was causing us to fight like cats and substantially older cats, if I needed a shoulder to cry on, the spat would be dropped and he would be there for me.

So when it came time in our story to smash faces together on screen was going to be awkward as hell. The first time, it really did feel like I was about to kiss my brother. But it was quick and simple, and before I knew it, I had thrown him through a table, so I felt fine.

The next day at work, I was feeling pretty confident about having closed the show the night before with such a dramatic, high-octane scene. I had already kissed a plethora of guys on screen and figured that must've been the last. I was also really intrigued to see where the story would be headed. Running into one of the writers, I got the vibe I was about to be disappointed.

"Are we doing anything fun today?" I hopefully asked. "Depends on your definition of fun," he hesitantly responded. "Oh, god. Do I have to kiss a guy again?" "Not exactly," he said. A sense of relief began to sweep over me until "You'll be kissing two. One after the other."

Your move, Mono.

While waiting in Gorilla, the control room situated directly outside the on camera entrance to the ring, Phil could see my trepidation. The story called for me to break up a fight between Bryan and Phil, who had both previously ignored me. First, I was to plant one on Bryan, and as Phil walked away, stop him by laying one on him. For those keeping score, I am somebody's daughter.

"You look like you're gonna throw up. I'm not that gross kiddo." Phil was relishing how much I wanted to set myself ablaze.

"I'm fine; I'm always nervous before I go out there. But, yes. You are gross." Is this what having a stroke feels like?

"It'll be okay. Just make sure you rock my world."

"You're not funny and you're not a nice person." I desperately tried to turn my attention to someone else, anyone else. I successfully began a conversation with a writer, when Phil leaned in interrupting. "You never know, you could be he one." I froze, suddenly out of comebacks. The segment had gone off flawlessly. The Bryan smooch was out of the way and now I only needed to quickly smash my face on Phil's again, like we had been clearly instructed. Specifically, Phil was supposed to stand with his arms extended as if I were a sexual predator and he were screaming for help. I held my breath as I ran after an exiting Phil. He scratched his head and began walking up the ramp, his back to me. Dismounting from the ring apron to the mat below, I was sure my knees would buckle beneath me. As he moved farther away, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. Using his arm as a pivot, I swung his body around, forcing us to be face-to-face. His character was frustrated and confused and began to ask me what it was I wanted his attention for. I lunged forward, pulling his face to my minuscule height, and placed my lips on his shutting him up. And then something happened.

We're kissing! We're not supposed to be kissing! is all my brain screamed out.

I steadied myself by grabbing his neck and considered pulling away to save the integrity of the segment. 'Just get out now, it'll be sort of what they wanted. OK, one...two...is that his fucking tongue?!'

There is an unwritten rule in on-screen kisses; no goddamn tongue. Tongue makes the moment too intimate, too real. For a moment I felt violated. Then I was infuriated. Then I was immediately very okay with it. Phil put his arm around my waist and pulled me tight to his body. I clawed at his shoulder. Every single person in that building disappeared. It was the best kiss of my entire life. What was supposed to be an unreciprocated peck was now bordering on smut, a hardcore make-out session, going twenty seconds overtime - live on air. We attempted to stop, and for a moment you can see us begin to pull apart, but hover just a second too long, before Phil adds one last tug of my lip. Years later, I let him know that was my favorite part.

When we pulled apart, I was certain my entire body was now equal parts human and equal parts a Jell-O-like substance. I felt the overwhelming urge to run as far and as fast as I could. I stared at Phil and his smart-ass "oops" smile for what felt like seven days, but was actually three seconds, and got the fuck out of there. I moved out of the shot so unexpectedly fast that the director didn't even have a chance to get the shots he needed. And I ended up having to run back out onstage to let them get the shot of me smiling and patting myself on the back while inside I was setting myself on fire.

We left editors scrambling, having to desperately cut to random shots of Daniel's face to avoid accidentally distributing a porno for our PG audience. Our hands roamed a bit too freely, and tongues were nauseatingly visible left and right. In fact, when the second airing came Friday night there was significant camera-angle changes and cuts to attempt to scar fewer children.

"Oh my god. No, AJ! Eww you liked it?" Celeste seemed revolted and amused all at once. "No! Eww! Shut up!" I lied while she cackled and I recalled that weird moment behind the curtain.

'You never know, you could be the one.'

For the next two years, we went on dating other people, supporting those relationships while not realizing what we really wanted, being a mentor and student, and acting like brother and sister. I think we both saw a possible forever in the other and ran screaming in the opposite direction. But after living in denial, fighting all the time, my character proposing to his and then agreeing to marry someone else, and after two years of the world's bizarre foreplay, one day Phil and I jus said "fuck it" and we jumped headfirst into a serious relationship. There was so much history between us it was like starting a book in chapter 12. Understandably, those around us were shocked at how fast everything seemed to move after that. But for us, it felt like we had waited a lifetime to find our way to each other.

A few weeks into dating, he got my lips tattooed on him. One month in, he asked me what my dream wedding would be. A few months later, we were married. Our wedding took place under string lights at home, on a Friday the thirteenth. We were surrounded by candles, black roses, and ten family members. In my vows, I thanked Phil for having "an ass that won't quit" in front of a reverend and my father, and then we high-fived. And one day, if I forget to take my pill, we can tell our child that after our first kiss, Mommy put Daddy through a table.

And the rest of our story is just for us.

After we left WWE, we lived a quiet life. Quiet being Phil wanted to fight in the UFC. It scared the shit out of me, but I supported him. Meanwhile, I was writing my book. It wasn't until 2022 that Phil decided to go back into the ring, and I followed him. We ended up in the WWE again and had feuds with Cody and Brandi Rhodes until we decided to switch to WCW where I ended up buying the business. The problem now, is that Phil has changed. He is grown dark and chose his belt and legacy over me and his family.

I don't know what to do....