Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the WWE wrestlers, associates, CEO's, anyone else lol. I only own Nikki and my ideas.

A/N: My first wrestling story lol. I tried to stay away from incorporating the actual people behind their WWE characters too much, but I probably slipped here and there. I hope you guys enjoy it. Compliments, criticism, everything is welcome (except for flaming!).

August 2005

A young blonde girl of barely twenty years old stood outside in the reception, waiting to be admitted into the CEO's office. It wasn't like this was the first time Nikki Valentine had gone in for an interview or anything of the sort. It was just that this meant too much to her. All her life, Nikki had been fascinated by watching snippets of shows like Raw and Smackdown, but she had never really considered it as a career. During high school, it wasn't 'cool' to be into these things; Nikki had a tough life at home, so she wasn't too eager to make it so in school too. With her looks and liveliness, she fit right in with the most popular girls, with the cheerleaders, and found her second calling. Dancing. That eventually led her to this realisation, to this place here, she supposed.

Nikki's reverie was cut short when the snotty secretary called her name, and escorted her inside to meet the CEO. She was shown to a seat, where she took her position, and stared silently at the back of the man's chair. She wasn't sure she wanted to see what was in the front of that chair; the back was intimidating enough. Closing her eyes for a split second, Nikki reminded herself that this was it; this was the way in, and she couldn't blow it. Her eyes fluttered open just as the chair swivelled to bring her face to face with none other than Mr. Vince McMahon. Nikki smiled nervously, saying, "Hi. Uhm, thanks for taking the time to meet me." She mentally scolded herself over how that sounded more like a question than a statement!

Mr. McMahon smiled, nodding, and flipped open a folder on his desk. Nikki doubted he read it, but as he spoke, he proved her wrong, "Well, Miss Valentine -interesting name, by the way- your resume looks alright." She wasn't sure how to feel about that, but when the man propped his elbows on the desk, and stared at her with those piercing eyes, she figured not so good. His voice really put her on an edge, "But 'alright' is not what the WWE is looking for, darling. You definitely have the looks, and enough skills to pass off as a transitional diva, but what if we decided to give you a more sinister storyline? What if the crowd demands it? Then we'd have a problem."

Nikki opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by McMahon raising his palm up to stop her. He closed the folder, casting it aside, and pulled out a sheet of black paper. She watched silently as he scribbled something on it, before he looked up, saying, "Starting in two weeks, you can move to Louiseville, and begin training with this person. After a few months, I'll check in with him, and we'll see what to do then." He sneered at her, before adding, "If you still want in, that is."

Nikki took note of the derision in his tone, and it did nothing but fuel her drive to do this. She took the piece of paper from Mr. McMahon, her eyebrows rising as she read the name of the person he scribbled on it. Well, this was going to be interesting. He wasn't even a superstar yet! Nonetheless, Nikki nodded, saying, "Great, thank you, sir. I guess I'll talk to you then." McMahon seemed to snort at the thought, as Nikki sent him a brief dirty look, before exiting the office.

Well, if she ever does get signed on, she was keeping her interactions with that man to a minimum.

%%%%

Two weeks later, a young dark haired man could be seen pacing a gym in Louiseville. Training. Really? This was just so ridiculous. For him to maintain his popularity and be among the first picks on the drafts, he had to train another wrestler? It was preposterous. What was even worse, it was a girl! His job depended on turning this amateur wrestler into one of the future WWE's Diva's. Punk almost growled, as he kicked at the floor at random, waiting for his 'trainee' to arrive. Where the hell was she anyway? It couldn't take this long to get here. He glanced at his watch, and refused to admit that five minutes wasn't really that bad.

Just as he looked up, a blonde girl walked in. He frowned, not once thinking that she could be the girl he was to train. She looked like a cheerleader; no effing way was she planning to be a wrestler. Punk snorted, and leaned against the wall, before saying to her loudly, "Uhh, I think you're in the wrong place. The cheerleaders practice in the other gym, three blocks down, sweetheart."

The girl raised her eyebrows at him, shrugging, and saying amusedly, "Wow, that's very flattering. I never thought I'd be mistaken for a cheerleader."She gave him a sarcastic grin, before continuing to walk in, and looking around at the gym and its various equipments.

Not an cheerleader? So who the hell was she? Another thought occurred to him, and this time, he was actually annoyed, not just amused. He made his way to the girl, saying, as he shook his head, "This place has the worst security ever. They let a fan in? What the hell."

He proceeded to place a hand on her back, intending to lead her out as gently as he can, considering his annoyance with, well, the world. She wouldn't move though; instead of just walking, she turned around, to face him, and raised her hands, palms up, saying, "Whoa, slow down there, pretty boy. I'm just looking for a CM Punk? Do you know where I can find him?"

Phil's eyebrows were about to disappear, as he realised who the girl was. He groaned, taking a few steps back, and said, almost pleadingly, "Please, please tell me you're not Nicole Valentine." He already knew the answer though; he really didn't need to hear it.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but...that's me," the bonde said, smiling in amusement. He really didn't know what was so funny about this situation. He had no hope whatsoever for this girl. She was not ready, and as far as he was concerned, she could never be a diva. She wouldn't last a minute in the ring.

He walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder, and spoke very slowly, praying that she would understand, "You do understand what this entails? Your life will basically be focused on finding a way to enjoy getting beat up, time after time, especially with a physique like that." He snorted, adding, "Sweetie, you wouldn't last two seconds with the likes of Dawn Marie. Now, you need a memorable night with yours truly, I can help you there," he glanced down, sizing her up, deciding that he wouldn't mind sleeping with her, if he wasn't as straight edge as he was, that is. And if he didn't already have a girlfriend. Still, he could mess around with her mind. He smirked, before adding," But...otherwise, I think you're better off walking straight back out that door."

The girl raised her eyebrows at him, before shrugging. Punk couldn't believe how easy that was! He had expected to have to maybe subject her to a few difficult exercises before she gave up, but obviously, this Valentine kid's head was not in the game. How pathetic! He snorted, watching her shrug his hand off of his shoulders. Thinking he might as well have a little fun with this, he said, "Hey, the first offer is still valid. I'd love to see what's under the clothes, Valentine." He frowned a little, asking out of curiosity, "What's your real name, by the way?"

He was surprised to see the girl's smirk still in place, despite his mocking her, and even more surprised when she practically closed the gap between them, whispering sexily in his ear, "You'd have to train me some to see what's under the clothes, Punk." She pulled away just as suddenly as she approached him, folding her arms over her chest, and adding, "And it's Nicole Valentine. That is my real name, unlike you, Mr. CM Punk. What's yours?" She seemed completely unfazed by his earlier warnings, which was just more proof for him that she had to be stupid or mentally challenged or something.

"Look, Valentine, I didn't want to do this, but here goes nothing: you can't ever become a wrestler. You're just...not the type." He stated, looking her up to down again. He rolled his eyes, adding, "Have you seen who you would be going up against? There's little to no chance you can beat them."

It finally seemed to hit a nerve with her, as her blue eyes narrowed. She looked around the gym, before facing him again, and saying, "Let me ask you something. You're not exactly the strongest or biggest man around; when you first started out, how many people said to you what you just told me to you? Did you listen to them? Did you let them get in your way?" She smirked in satisfaction when his smirk faded. He didn't like where this was going; he was supposed to have the upper hand. She stepped forward, continuing, "You obviously didn't, because you're here. And if I have to go find someone else to train me, that's fine, but word on the street is that you actually need me. You're not so popular these days, are you? You need a little protégé to help you out, to get you into the spotlight, and honestly, you'd be lucky to have me." She shrugged, looking overly confident that she reminded him of, well, he hated to even think it, but of himself. "I mean, I'm gorgeous, and I can tell you right now, with the right training, I can kick some major ass. I've already done it, just not in a WWE-scale thing."

Punk stared at her, genuinely surprised by the sudden fierce attitude, combined with cool headedness. He didn't really understand how she maintained them both; being fierce and cool, but he sort of liked it. He mused; she might not be too bad after all, and she made some good points. He was an underdog for quite some time before he got here, and he did need a popularity boost, whether he liked it or not. Punk stepped back, rubbing the back of his head, shrugging, and said, "Alright, Valentine, you've got yourself a deal. I have to go now, but, tomorrow morning, 6:30 am sharp, be here." He smirked when she opened her mouth to protest, and shook his head. She stopped, and nodded silently, irritation obvious on her face. Not so cool now, was she? He chuckled, heading out, but as he reached the door, he turned to look at her again, saying, "It's Brooks, by the way. Phil Brooks."

A/N:

So, for those of you who have been reading for a while, don't panic. The flashback prologue can be found in my profile. It's called Just Tonight. However, this is how it all started. It's quite a jump from Just Tonight, but as we go on, it'll make more sense lol. Next few chapters I'll be incorporating more character, like the other Valentines, Steve (he was mentioned briefly in Just Tonight), even Maria.

Stay tuned, and please review :)