"Woo-hooo! Finally, Cody! Finally! The gold is in my hands!" I exclaimed in excitement as we walked out of the video game store. I took one look at the bloody and thundering text which read, "Crimson Combat: Inflamed", practically bellowing from the cover of the video game. It was calling me, and I couldn't wait to play it.

Cody Rhodes snatched the case from my hands. "The gold… is in our hands." He flashed that confident smile which either always annoyed me, or made me laugh. Usually, it was a mixture of both – and that's what I exactly felt at the time. He looked at it with sheer desire.

"Excuse me, but as far as winning golden prizes goes, the gold is absolutely in my hands and my hands, alone! I paid for that!" I declared with an assertive laugh, resting my hands on either side of my waist.

"Yeah? Well that's if you can take the gold away from me, smidget!" The mustache-self-proclaimed-dashing-prince mocked, holding the video game high up above his head with one hand, taking full advantage of the whole height-disadvantage situation. See, I was exactly 5'0 tall..or short, in that case. And he was this towering 6-foot-tall guy, or actually, about 5'10 if you don't talk of billed heights, WWE style. To be honest I nearly lost all hope in achieving my dream of becoming a WWE diva, all because of my height. 'Cause man, I was real tiny, like a teenage kid.

"Such a jack-butt, gimme that! It's my money, mustachio!"

"Look, Jill I can't see the point of that. It just so happened that I forgot to bring my wallet today and – "

"You obviously did that on purpose."

"I did not. And later when we get back to the hotel, I'll give you my share, hand it to you straight from my wallet, and we can both call it 'our gold', then." Cody flashed me that smile of his which almost meant to psychologically say, Do you love that idea, huh?

"Fine." I folded my arms across my chest.

Cody has been like my best friend in the WWE for quite a few years now. It's funny, 'cause no matter how many times people had tried to press some kind of intimate- love-crap-malice on the two of us, we just didn't have that chemistry and eventually, fellow WWE Superstars and Divas got tired of pushing our flimsy-ever-so-lame loveteam, lost all hope, and just got used to us being friendly cat-and-mouse forever. Seriously, like, try to leave the both of us naked in one room for 24 hours and you could imagine Cody going, "I ain't getting this in that!" – complete with his hands pointing from his crotch to mine. Heck, like I would want to be copulating with Cody-fudgin'-Rhodes!

Anyways, sorry for the really comical and a bit vulgar scenario but that's just the best I came up with to describe the kind of best-friendship I have with Cody Rhodes. And this was one of those small things we often slightly argued about. They were often small arguments – small ones, that after a short amount of time you all could picture the both of us already having an agreement and huggin' it out – Team Hell No style, baby.

"Cody! Jill!" Cody and I whirled around to see Daniel Bryan running toward us.

I had called him "D-Bry" more often than I addressed him as "Daniel". Another great and close and really funny friend of mine in the WWE, D-Bry was just the perfect person for Cody and I to sorta, "recruit" into our bizarre trio to enjoy all the weirdest things altogether. I had actually met Daniel first during my indie wrestling days, but only got closer to him when we crossed paths yet again in the WWE.

Since then, Cody, D-Bry, and I were inseparable. We were such an abnormal trio – Charlie Chaplin, a powerpuff girl, and a goat-face. Yeah, we're like the "Happy Three Friends".

"Let's go get some lunch now – Oh hey, wait a second! Is that it?" D-Bry's eyes beamed all over at Crimson Combat's second installment as he neared us. He just wanted it as badly as Cody and I did.

"Oh my gosh, this is gonna taste like gold later toni – " Mr. Goat-face tried to snatch the case, but Cody was quick.

"Sorry, Daniel," Cody teased. He and I proudly held up the video game in front of his face. "But the gold," he put an arm around me, "…is in our hands," Cody and I finished the statement as we bragged out on D-Bry's face.

"NO!" Daniel shouted his catch-phrase.

The three of us laughed in unison and we went on to get some lunch.

After lunch, we had to go back to the arena with all the Superstars and Divas as Vince McMahon was to brief us all regarding the upcoming pay-per-view events, house shows, tours, and all that stuff.

This was one of those informal and really casual meetings that Vince usually called for. They were different from those really formal business meetings that took place inside his office. This was a lot more casual where you could actually be relaxed and even have a picnic in the arena. During meetings like this, he gathered everyone in the empty arena and let us occupy the empty elevated seats.

Our trio always came early, like anytime, anywhere. So by the time we got to the arena, there was no one else there, yet.

"Aren't you three always the early birds in this industry?" The familiar lean figure of a man probably in his mid-40's materialized as we neared a row of seats.

Mr. Jim Johnston, the musical director in our company for several years, greeted us.

"I only wish we could get recognized for small things like this." D-Bry gave Jim a friendly hug; Cody and I did so.

Jim let a small chuckle. "I shall head backstage first, will be right back as soon as more seats are occupied here." Jim adjusted his glasses before turning on his heel and leaving.

The three of us took seats in the arena, all with Sonic shakes in our hands, relentlessly sipping from our straws. And since we were there early, we got to watch the others arrive.

"I don't ever believe Zack Ryder," Daniel began, referring to Zack Ryder who was walking around the arena with the Bellas on either side of his. "I mean, seriously! VIP ticket for a One Direction concert and he gets the ladies?"

"Yeah, ridiculous." Cody wiggled the Sonic cup in his hand to allow some of the ice to melt.

"Oh shut up, Cody you listen to J. Bieb crap," I pointed out.

"I DON'T! My niece has put those mp3 files in my playlist, without my knowledge," Cody defended. D-Bry shook his head and put it down as he laughed. I laughed along.

"Maryyyysssseeee!" I stood from my seat and started jumping; waving wildly to Maryse as I spotted her and Miz from afar. She saw me and waved back, flashing her sexy smile. Miz smiled, too. They started walking toward us.

The others had started arriving, and minutes later, the arena was filled with wrestlers.

"You know what, I often forget to realize how big our company is until during these meetings where I can literally see like almost all of us!" I said in amusement, as I was finishing up Cody's shake – he kinda always never finished his Sonic shakes and kinda always handed me the thing to let me do the finish. I have a sweet tooth.

"Man, I can't wait to see that Kassius Ohno finally debut on the main roster," Cody told Daniel as they both kept an eye on the long-haired man in his FCW shirt and jeans who had just arrived with other men who were not on the main roster yet.

Suddenly, I felt strange. It was so strange, that I couldn't explain.

"Tho-.. Those are the guys from developmental, right?" I asked my two friends.

"Yeah," they both plainly replied as they went along with their long conversation about the guys who they considered were real talents and had the potential to be the next breakout stars and stuff. But I was hardly paying attention to them by now, 'cause I just couldn't.

Everything going in my head now was "developmental guys", and I knew for a fact that there was something about it. "Developmental guys" referred to those who were working in the developmental program of the WWE which was NXT, formerly FCW – short for Florida Championship Wrestling. And I did know for a fact, too, that there was something in FCW…or someone.

Something inside me cringed, and I honestly couldn't pinpoint the feeling. It felt really strange. And it couldn't be any stranger when I spotted what I spotted.

Along with the whole bunch of FCW guys who had just started arriving in the arena stood out a man – a man who, despite wearing that Bengals cap over his head, was still able to let his golden fluff of short hair hang out a little, and those strands shone as the arena lights gleamed against it. He was in his jeans, wore an ECW black hoodie, carried some drink with him, and had his headphones around his neck.

It's him, my mind notified.

And it was him – it was Dean Ambrose. The wrestler who I first saw on TV cutting a promo on FCW, and it was just the most brilliant and most golden thing going on in that roster, I always thought. So brilliant, that I kinda got a little too attached to it and actually began anticipating him on TV. The thing with his promos was that they were so sinister, like he was always so evil and I dug that stuff. In the ring, he was without a doubt talented, he was always able to tell a story in the ring – he was the complete package.

And then I remembered last week. Chaplin, goat-face, and I visited the FCW taping and we were backstage, and… I didn't know anymore, but I freakin' saw Dean Ambrose cut a promo right before my eyes, and dang it the TV didn't do justice! He was even more overwhelming live! I.. I couldn't explain how I felt.

All these things went through my head, and now I was watching him walk. Oh, and he was walking toward our direction…walking close… Wait is he going to sit near us? I was… I was unexplainable.

Whatever in heaven is happening to my body! My mind scolded, as I felt really strange and I wasn't so sure…but, was my heart racing? Holy cow.

I was seated at the last seat in the row, like near the stairs. And the FCW guys were walking up those stairs… Dean Ambrose was walking up the stairs. And I was just right next to those stairs.

My mind was in a spasm. How do I… What in the world… Are they sitting next to us? But I'm occupying the last seat in this row! Oh, maybe there are vacant seats behind us. I looked back swiftly. Oh, there are. Freakin' hamsandwich, they're sitting behind our row?

I was kind of really unconscious about my eyes consistently focusing on the FCW men walking past our row. All of a sudden, I froze.

Did he just… have eye contact with me? I looked away so quickly and in milliseconds my eyes were glued to the ground and I did not know what was going on around me no more. I could feel the blood rushing all the way up to my face. What is happening! This is torture to my body!

"Jill?" Cody's voice startled me, slightly saving me from the mind-torture I was experiencing. And no, he didn't have to know about it. "You okay?"

"Holy crap, she's finished your Sonic shake again? Look at the redness of her face!" Daniel let out a laugh.

"What? I am red?" I asked, worry in my tone. I began to feel over-conscious. This was embarrassing.

When I nervously looked back at the stairs, I didn't see anyone walking no more. The FCW men had been out of my sight fast. Must have taken their seats already, I thought.

Then my mind went berserk again. What on Earth is happening? What's causing this feeling? What's really eating me now? And where is Dean Ambrose seated, now? And did he… did his eyes really come to meet mine earlier?

The eye contact was quick and swift; I couldn't really tell it actually happened. But it felt so.

"Um, excuse me, Jill." A hand suddenly shook my left shoulder from behind. The voice was unfamiliar, but by all means laid-back and pleasant.

My head turned. And upon seeing what I saw, I could tell the look on my face was so abnormal, I only really wished it wasn't that obvious.

It was freakin' Dean Ambrose, handing me the attendance sheet and pen.

"Have you signed, yet?" Dean Ambrose asked. He was looking at me. And for some reason I wasn't able to look at him so my eyes stayed glued to the freakin' attendance sheet.

"Oh, not yet. Thanks." Somehow I managed to sound casual and a little less awkward and I even smiled a tad.

Quickly I grabbed the attendance sheet and pen from his hands, and my skin slightly got in contact with his and I could've sworn I really felt something go through me but I couldn't really explain myself!

I hope it didn't turn out to look like I was rude, but I quickly turned my head away from him as I got the sheet and pen. I didn't know what to feel, I didn't know. I guessed I didn't know how to handle his stare.

After looking away and focusing on signing in the attendance sheet, the feeling inside me was something that fell between relief and regret; relief that I was finally not suffering from the crazy feeling his presence gives me, and regret that I didn't look him in the eyes when I had the chance.

Is this what I think it is?

Screw it.