Bound for Glory - Year 1

Week 19 - Red, White, and Boo

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                                                                 July 4th, 2011

                                                                      “LIES!”

                                                                                                            Chicago airport, lobby, around . . . 6am

“I can't believe they lied to me again!” Kat yelled, looking at the RAW schedule. I couldn't help but laugh a bit.

“When and about what?” I asked.

“Last week and where RAW was supposed to be this week!” she answered. I rolled my eyes and leaned back on my boyfriend.

“They never told you that they'd be in Rosemont this week. You were just talking about Money in the Bank too much.” I shrugged. She shot me a glare and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” she sighed. “Let's just get to Detroit before I DIE.”

I rolled my eyes at being reminded of going to Detroit. “Oh, shut up.” I said viciously. Alex looked down at me oddly and pet my shoulder.

“It's okay,” he said. “It's okay.”

“Is not!” I shot back. “I don't wanna be in a city from which the DEAD Wings originated.”

“Dude, you're a Michiganian, they're your home team!” Punk laughed. I flashed him a sardonic smile.

“I'd REALLY appreciate it if you'd kindly shut the eff up,” I said, still smiling. “before I ring out your neck in front of all these impressionable fans.” He rose his eyebrows and pushed out his lips, a look that meant he was surprised at something someone said.

“Rawr!” he said, making clawing motions with his free hand, the other one holding up his suitcase.

WAIT! I should explain. After Punk left Maria at the altar on Saturday, she was crushed and pregnant. Punk broke things off with Madison, feeling really bad, and—in short—begged for Maria's forgiveness. Being the MAJOR pushover she is and having a brain that is incapable of declining men of forgiveness, she forgave him. They're not back together, but he's supporting her. She's not wrestling but she's still traveling with us, which I'm happy about. Anyway . . . Punkers and I are worse than before, what with me being uber protective of my friends.

“Looks like someone still has some pent up aggression towards them because they poured BEER on her after they won the Stanley Cup! And she's taking it out on me!.” he said, planting a big smile on his face. I shot him a death glare, wiping the smile from his face. I didn't like being reminded of my relationship with current Red Wings right winger, Patrick Eaves.

See, after the 2008 Stanley Cup finals, when the Red Wings won, Patrick Eaves broke up with me on camera and made the whole team pour beer on me OUT of Lord Stanley. I've hated that team ever since. I'd honestly rather have had beer poured on me by center for the Blackhawks, Patrick Sharp, than that. 34 goals, 37 assists, 71 points, and only 38 penalties in the 2010-2011 regular season, Sharp got. Impressive. Yeah, when I was his Puckbunny I sorta did my research.

“Why don't you shut your mouth, Brooks?!” I yelled, getting SUPER mad at him and advancing towards him. I saw some people begin to point their phones at me, so I submitted to Alex's attempts to hold me back. Punk actually stepped back a little when I advanced on him.