A/N: So, I was writing on one of my stories until one of my muses, Randy, decides that he wanted to stop by and bug me. Then, it all went downhill from there. This is just a look at I go through when I write. There will be more chapters...believe. I don't think Randy is through with me...not at all.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything dealing with WWE or any song lyrics that is used as a muse. I also do not own the rights to any products or persons mentioned in the story as well.

Chapter One

I sit and stare at the screen as I think about what to write. I did not notice as my bed dipped as I bore holes into the computer screen.

"You know that you have to type something, right?" a deep voice says.

I look to the person and my eyes grows wide. "What the fuck?"

The man smiles.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk."

I take off my glasses and wipe my face with both hands. "What do you want to talk about, Randy?"

"Are you going to let the series die?" he asks me.

I shake my head. "No...why do you ask that?"

"You haven't updated it in awhile."

"Well, I've been busy with The Power of Good-bye."

"I can see that. Up to thirteen chapters." He stares at me.

"I'm...sorry...?"

"Are you?"

I sigh. "Listen, Mark and Mike are controlling this..." I wave at the screen.

"Are they? I don't see them."

I get up and walk to the living room. On the the couch, Mike sits in Mark's lap lowly talking and kissing. I look back to Randy.

He folds his tattooed arms over his chest and glares at me with his famous "Viper Stare."

"That doesn't work on me," I tell him. "My mother's from Thailand. She has a machete collection. I'm more afraid of her than you." I go and sit in the lazy-boy.

He plops down in the love seat, glaring at the two making out.

"You have to admit...they do look sexy together," I say.

He shifts his eyes to me. "I had him first."

Mark growls and we turn to see him glaring at Randy.

"No fighting in my house," I say. "Go back to making out."

Mike cups Mark's face and begins to kiss him again.

My chair dips back and I look up. I sigh again. "What do you want, JoMo?"

"Did you have to make me a dick-douche?" he asks.

"Someone had to be," I answer.

"What about Randy? Look at him."

Randy glares at him and JoMo flinches.

"Stop that," I command. "You're scaring him."

"That's the point," he replies.

I roll my eyes and go back to my room. I stop in my doorway of my room and stare at the figure at my laptop eating a cookie...my cookie. "What the hell, Punk?"

"I'm enjoying the story so far," he mumbles as he bits into the cookie.

"I'm glad. Tell Randy to lay off my ass for a bit until I get back to the series."

"Hey, Randy's his own man." He scans the screen. "What happens next?"

"Huh?"

"With Mark and Mike? What happens next?" He finishes the cookie off.

"I don't know. I'm listening to songs though."

"Good." He gets up and stands in front of me.

"Go, help Glitterbutt before Randy kills him."

"I'm not going to kill him," Randy yells.

My doorbell rings.

"Make yourself useful," I yell back.

Randy grumbles and answers the door. "Izzy?"

"What?"

"It's for you." He goes back to his seat.

I go and look. I grumble and stand in front of the screen door. "And who are you?"

"My...my name is Alberto Del Rio," the man replies with a smile on my face.

I open the screen door to let him in. "Why are you here?"

"Have you forgotten? The stories with me. It is my destiny to be written in one of your stories."

I stare at him.

Moans come from behind me.

I turn to look at Mike and Mark. They were fucking each other through their clothes. I grab my spray bottle and spritz them. "Not on the couch. We have company. Go to the spare room or your bedroom."

Without missing a beat, Mark stands with Mike in his arms and leaves the living room.

"The spare bedroom!"

The door slams shut.

"Horny bastards!" I mumble.

I take my seat again in the lazy-boy and prop my elbows on my knees. JoMo moves to the couch still staring at Randy, who just glares at him. Punk sits besides Randy while Alberto takes the armrest of the loveseat. He smiles at me.

"Why are you here again?" I ask.

"Little one, it is my destiny to be part of one of your stories," Alberto replies.

My chair dips again and I look up once more.

"Alex," I greet.

"Isidora," he says.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hanging."

I nod and look to Alberto. Then, it hits me. "That's right. I'm planning your story."

He winks at me.

"Your love interest is Alex here."

"What?" the blond asks.

"Your his love interest," I repeat.

He looks down at me confused.

"You know, get to know him. He might be good for you," I suggest.

Alberto stands up and goes to the young man. He snakes his arm around Alex's waist. The blond turns red.

"He's a tomato," Punk chuckles.

Randy stares at the two with a smirk on his face.

"Come, I'll make you some dinner," Alberto says as he pulls Alex into the kitchen.

"Clean up after yourselves," I order.

The door opens and in walk Glenn followed by John Cena and the Hardy Boyz.

"Really?" I ask. "Really?"

They stare at him.

"Just walk right in. I don't mind. This is my house."

"We bought beer," Matt says, holding up a case.

I shut my eyes. "I don't drink beer."

"Me either," Punk replies.

"I have Pepsi, Sprite, Root Beer, Sweet Tea, and bottled water," I tell him.

Punk smiles. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"We bought movies, snacks, alcohol, games..." Jeff lists.

"I have movies. I have snacks. I have games," I state.

"But no alcohol," Matt says.

"Whatever," I breath. "The entertainment room is downstairs."

The group head off. JoMo shrugs his shoulders and follows.

I look to Punk and Randy. "Aren't y'all going?"

"So cute...'y'all'," Punk chuckles as he stands. He drags Randy along.

I sit in the living room for a while. "Peace." I go back to my room and lay down. I turn up the music to drown out the moans and grunts coming from the spare bedroom.

The bed dips again and I scowl. I turn my head to see who it was, old or new. "What are you doing Randy?"

"We're not done talking yet," he replies.

"I thought I made it clear. I'm working on it."

"Work faster."

"Oh...you miss Mike."

"I do not." He folds his arms over his chest.

"Too Much" by the Dave Matthew's Band blares.

"Your taste in music..." he begins.

"Is wide and varied," I finish.

He nods.

"I will go back to the series...I promise."

He stares at me.

"I have much to tell, your past, why Mike is important to you, Mike's past, Punk's past...I like the series. It's just that The Power of Good-Bye has gotten my full attention as of late."

The muffled sounds of a headboard banging against a wall could be made out.

"I see you drivin' around town with the girl I love and I'm like Fuck you," came from my laptop.

He narrows his at me.

"I like the song," I defend. "It's a great song. Don't judge me."

He shakes his head. "I'm not judging."

"Kay." My stomach grumbles. "I'm hungry."

"Alberto's cooking and there snacks with the guys."

"Hell no."

Randy laughs. "Why not?"

"Do you want to hang out with the group while they get drunk or the new budding couple for the new story that's brewing in my head?"

"I see your point, but the group would be entertaining."

I nod. "TNA is coming on tonight. Let's go watch it with the guys."