Melissa happily hit "post" on her lastest chapter of her fan fiction story. Within minutes she had a review from her regular reviewer and good friend, Sam. "Dean a sub? I dunno. Yeah, maybe. He is a real bad boy. Bet he gets more than one round of detention! Damn, you are getting really good at adult scenes. Stop fretting!"

Melissa laughed and responded. "Damn, girl. You talk like you know the man. Stop fangirling so much!"

As usual, the two chatted back and forth for a while. Sam logged of as she always did, early evening. She said she was from Germany and there was a time difference to account for. Melissa thought nothing of it and went merrily on her way.

After posting another fan fiction chapter, Melissa sent a message to Sam. "Did you see that interview with Seth Rollins today? Oh my God!"

"What did he say?" Sam asked.

"The guy asked him if he knew anything about fan fiction and he said that when goes online he can't miss it! If he searches for a cool picture or something, it's there and he's read it!"

"Oh my God!" Melissa could almost hear Sam's squeal through the computer.

"You don't think…It's not possible…"

"Nooo. No way."

"I hope not. He said that it's weird. He said to stop. He said, and I quote, 'I can't read a paragraph of it without almost becoming ill.' What if he was talking about me? Mine? Am I that bad?"

"Stop fretting. You are not like those others. You don't write that…crap. You have a nice story, you have character development. He couldn't be talking about you." Sam assured her.

Melissa sent a message to Sam. "*squeal* I get to go to a live WWE event! Me! For real!"

"You've never been?" Sam replied.

"Nope. I am so excited. *bouncing happily* This is going to be so much fun!"

"Are you going with anyone?"

"Nah. I only got one ticket and no one wanted to go with me anyway. It'll be fine."

"Eh, you know, some of those fans get a little crazy, chica. You need to be careful."

"I'll be fine. Be happy for me! I've heard seeing a show live is so much different than watching on t.v. This is going to be so much fun!"

"So, what are you going to wear?" Sam asked. Melissa chatted for a few minutes before Sam logged off for the night.

Melissa sat in her seat, excitement racing through her veins. It was only a house show, but these were her muses, the people that inspired her. She could see the sweat beading on Roman Reign's forehead. She could see the hickey on Randy Orton's neck.

It was when Dean Ambrose paced the ring that Melissa began to feel a tingle. If Dean was in the ring…THERE HE IS! Seth Rollins stomped down the ramp with a mike. His eyes seemed to be roaming the crowd. A smirk appeared on his face.

"Deano, Deano, Deano. You have been such a bad boy. A bad, bad boy. Do you know what happens to bad boys, Deano? They get sent to detention." Those words sounded familiar to Melissa. As Dean continued to pace, Seth was facing in Melissa's direction. She paled as the things he said were references and quotes from her conversations with Sam. It wasn't possible, was it? "What's the matter Dean? You are acting like a little fanfiction girl at a WWE event for her first time." Seth's eyes slid right to Melissa's.

Melissa felt sick. Really and truly sick to her stomach. She picked up her purse and her bag of souvenirs. She put her drink into her popcorn bucket and willed her tears back. She murmured "excuse me" as she made her way to the aisle. Once there, she controlled the urge to run. She counted off in her head, making sure her steps were measured and even. She thought she was nuts, but she could feel a stare burning at the back of her head. Once she cleared the entrance to the arena, she tossed the popcorn bucket away and found the closest bathroom, where she threw up everything she'd eaten at the event. Washing her face and gathering her things, left the bathroom and headed for the nearest exit.

Melissa was between a concession stand and a merchandise stand when the curtain to the arena entrance opened, allowing the screams to filter into the hall. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him. He was rather hard to miss. Standing just over six feet tall, tan and muscular…bi-colored hair, a smattering of hair trailing down his chest; this man stood out. That chest that was currently heaving with each panted breath. His chocolate brown eyes scanned the hall, searching for something or someone.

Melissa bolted for the exit. She slammed into the door and ran. She didn't look back. She didn't dare.