A/N: I'm in a depression lately, so I decided to write this fic, since writing is my only outlet. I hope you guys like this, I thought the writing was crappy (given my mood) but then, this particular fic is really personal to me as these are about the events that has been happening to my life recently…

As I sit by the catering with my best friend, Trish, my mind couldn't help but wander. She keeps talking bout this some guy she met, but at this point, it wasn't that interesting to me. I can't help but stare at him, who is actually a table away from us.

"Stace, hey, earth to Stacy!" Trish said, annoyed, waving her hand in front of my face.

"Huh? What?" I said, snapping out of my daze.

"Have you been listening to a word that I was saying?"

"Yeah, about that guy you met at the bar the other night."

"Stace, that was 5 minutes ago," she said while she turned her back to see who I was staring at. "Oh honey, if you're so interested in him, why don't you ask him out?"

"What? No, I am so not interested in him. He's way too cocky for me, and I don't like pretty boys, remember?" I said defensively.

"Oh really?" Trish said while her eyebrows shot up. "I know that look, Stace. Don't be such a denial queen."

"Am not," I said while I stood up and went to the locker room to prepare for my upcoming match.

"What the hell is with him anyway?" I thought as I prepared for my upcoming match. The first time I met him, I thought he was really cute. But I really didn't like the guys he was always hanging around with. He became way too cocky, and his friends, let's just say they didn't really have a good rep around the locker room.

But then recently, his so-called friends turned their backs on him and left him all alone. And that's when he changed. Then, I don't know. I started to get all nervous around him, and when I'm alone, I can't help but think about him. Trish said I was so obvious that I had a crush on him, but I don't know why I keep denying it. Maybe because I was scared to fall for him, that I don't want to end up getting hurt.

"Keibler, you're up next," Martin, the stage manager said while he knocked on the door.

Taking I deep breath, I walked out of the locker room, clearing my head with thoughts of Randy Orton.