20 votes and I'll upload the next chapter.
Monday Night Raw 27th May 2024
The walk back to the hotel was a blur of pain and simmering tension. Every step was a jolt to his injured shoulder, a reminder of the physical cost of his actions.
The voices, temporarily quieted by the RKO, began to stir again, whispering accusations, doubts, foreboding.
What have you done? They hate you now. You messed it all up.
He slammed the hotel room door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the small space. He leaned against it, breathing heavily, the air thick and suffocating. His hands were clenched into fists, trembling slightly.
He felt raw, exposed, a nerve ending rubbed raw. He was ready for it. Ready for the fallout. Ready for the condemnation. Ready to snap at the slightest provocation, to turn the lingering internal violence outwards again.
He stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes slowly, wincing with each movement of his shoulder. The mirror showed him a face contorted with pain and exhaustion, eyes wild and unfocused.
He expected a call from management, from doctors, maybe even a furious text from Becky. He braced himself for the inevitable judgment, the disappointment, the questions he couldn't answer.
He paced the room, a caged animal, waiting for the next wave of voices, the next urge to lash out.
His phone rang.
He stared at it, expecting the screen to show a number he dreaded. Instead, it was Rhea Ripley's contact name.
His breath hitched.
Rhea.
He hadn't spoken to her properly.
Their last conversations had been strained, circling the drain of her obvious frustration with his erratic behaviour. He had braced himself for her inevitable condemnation of this. Of the utter chaos, the helping Liv, the bizarre kiss, the brutal RKO on the champion.
He hesitated, then swiped to answer, his hand trembling slightly. He held the phone to his ear, bracing for the ice in her voice, the thinly veiled disgust he was sure he deserved.
Rhea: Y/N?
Her voice wasn't icy. It was... strained, yes, but laced with something else. Relief? Concern?
He couldn't speak immediately. He just listened to his own ragged breathing over the line.
Rhea: Are you... are you okay?
She asked, her voice softening slightly.
She's faking it, the voices whispered. It's a trap. She's going to tear you down.
He forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse.
Y/N: M'fine.
It was a lie, a pathetic, transparent lie.
A small sigh came down the line.
Rhea: Fine. Right.
She was quiet for a moment, and he tensed, waiting for the storm.
It didn't come. Instead, she spoke again, her voice quieter now, thoughtful.
Rhea: I watched... I watched the end of the match.
He flinched internally. Here it comes.
Rhea: That was... something else. Hitting Liv like that... after... everything.
ВЫ ЧИТАЕТЕ
The Decision.
ФанфикшнI've tried this story twice, and both times, it's failed. I've got to give it one more go. After Y/N Orton's title loss at Wrestlemania 40, the injury to his girlfriend Rhea Ripley, the Y/N Orton of old has been lost, and has been replaced by someth...
