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Punk could barely look at Maryse. Well, that wasn't entirely true... But after the shower, it was increasingly difficult for him to not picture her naked. Every time he laid eyes on her, he would tear his gaze away. It sucked. He had to admit, she was a beautiful, sexy woman - but she was a bitch, and he couldn't stand her.
With the tall blonde diva chattering up a storm, they left the hotel room. They were heading down to the cafe for breakfast, then returning for their stuff and taking off for his... rather, Edge's house.
"Why don't we go rollerblading later?" Maryse suggested, her long, slender hands grasping his upper arm. She looked excited, which was the exact opposite of his current feeling. Hell, he didn't even know how to rollerblade.
"Err... We'll see," was all he could say. This sucked beyond belief. He was starving, and all he could think of besides eating was seeing Ashley.
It was strange, how things worked. As it was, he noticed the punk diva sitting at a table in the hotel restaurant as they approached. She was slightly facing in his direction, but the creepy part was that he was staring at the back of his own head. And then, the guy suddenly rose and got out from the booth... It was him. Well, not really - but physically, it was CM Punk's body, all right.
His mouth ran dry. It was unnerving, to say the least. He knew it was Edge who had just walked away and to the men's room. He hadn't noticed him at all. Suddenly, he felt his appetite slipping away.
Punk and Maryse were quickly seated at a table, one that was not too near that at which Ashley sat. Damn it... If only he could get up and approach her.
An idea swiftly coming into his head, he looked across the table at Maryse. Squinting at her, the woman's attention came fast.
"What is it?" she asked in her thick accent.
"Your mascara... it's run a little," he lied.
"Oh." The statuesque diva reached into her purse in an instant.
Punk realized she was searching for a compact or mirror. He reached across the table, placing his hand on her arm.
"No, I think you'll need a bigger mirror. Go to the ladies' room."
She stopped rummaging and smiled at him.
"Okay, I will." She glanced at the menu, which was closed, as she hadn't gotten the chance to browse it. "Please order for me French toast, okay?" she said.
He nodded.
"You got it."
The moment Maryse was gone, he scrambled up and briskly walked over to Ashley's table. He didn't see himself - Edge - anywhere, so he sat down across from her.
The blonde's eyes narrowed with suspicion the instant he came into her line of vision. She looked annoyed, and Punk had to remind himself of the reason for it.
"Excuse me? What do you want?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "To insult me again, call me a Lita wannabe?"
He ran a hand over his hair and quickly shook his head.
"No, no... not at all. Of course not." Damn it, he looked and sounded like Edge... So, of course she was going to eye him with disdain. "I just wanted to see how you're doing." He chanced a glance over his shoulder, in case the other man was returning. "Are you okay, Ash?"
She glared at him with hatred as she replied.
"First off, don't call me that. My friends, fans and my boyfriend are the only people allowed to call me 'Ash.' And since when the hell do you care about how I'm doing?" she shot, looking him up and down a little.
Punk's heart sank.
"Get lost," Ashley spat. She looked somewhat past him. "My boyfriend will kick your ass if he sees you, and... here he comes now."
He looked up and over his shoulder again. And sure enough, his own likeness was heading over. Sighing, he rose and left the table, frustrated.
He returned to his own table and looked down sadly, hopelessness overtaking him. He wished he could have had the chance to tell Ashley the truth... but she wouldn't have believed him anyway. Hell, he could still barely believe it.
About a moment later, he felt a slight breeze at his side as Maryse returned. She sat across from him and gave him an odd look.
"My mascara was fine."
He played dumb for appearance's sake.
"Oh, it was?" When she nodded, he continued, coming up with a very lame 'explanation.' "Must have been the lighting in this place."
"Can I take your order?" a waitress asked.
Maryse glanced from the woman to the man she believed to be her boyfriend. She would have sworn he had already ordered, but apparently not. Something was strange, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The service was really bad here... But no, that wasn't all. She had received a call on her cell phone while she'd been in the ladies' room, and she hadn't recognized the number. And when she answered, the person hadn't spoken.
The blonde missed the looks tossed her way by the man seated some ways across the restaurant. However, with
his dark straight hair and lip ring, she never would have glanced his way in the first place.