I DO NOT OWN WWE Characters or anything affiliated with the WWE.

Please do not sue Steph, Vince and Trips.

"Alright Mr. Orton, you can have a seat while I go to the back and get your artist." Chloe was a small, young, cheerful dark skinned beauty who needed the assistance of heels to be taken serious amongst her tall co-workers and clientele that came into the tattoo shop. Never really having the chance to become star struck, living in a small town her whole life, she kept herself professional, she had to in this business or the customer would never return. It wasn't until she was in the back, in her best friends room, that she let herself, and those fangirl emotions that are hard to control, come out.
"Oh. My. God." Chloe took deep breathes with every word and had to put her hands on the back of Gemma's chair to keep herself from collapsing on the floor from a developing panic attack.
Gemma was hunched forward, pencil in hand concentrating on tracing an anchor, trying to make it different from all the other anchor tattoos she had done recently. Lucky for her she was extremely creative and could keep up, if not out shine, in this male dominated shop and industry.
"Really? Is it that good?" Gemma asked unsure while sitting back and trying to see it from Chloe's perspective. Sure it was a clean drawing, but nothing to take your breath away.
"No no no... I mean, yeah... that looks nice.." Chloe didn't even notice what the hell Gemma was drawing. She was trying to keep her cool, trying not to get hot in the cheeks knowing she would have to face him again in a few moments. "You have a walk-in. A very hot walk-in. He needs some white in his sleeves and back touched up. And hopefully my number." Gemma put her pencil down, shut her drawing lamp off and turned in her chair facing Chloe who was now standing in front of a full length mirror fanning her face with both hands, whispering confident nothings to herself.
"Are you okay?..." Gemma asked with a raised brow before standing up and raising her tattoo'd arms up over her head stretching. Watching her gorgeous friend primp herself, as if she needed to, then looking down to her own attire which consisted of black skinny jeans, a tight white tank top and a pair of old chucks. It was a disappointing comparison really.
"Just wait until you see this guy, Gem. You'll totally get it." Chloe reassured her while grabbing her own chest and pushing them up, making sure her small handful of cleavage in her tight black body hugging dress would not be missed by this guy.
Gemma smiled and rolled her eyes. "He must be that gift from God I keep hearing about but have yet to see." She teased. It was pretty amusing seeing Chloe get so flustered by a client, it wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last.
"Girl. Just wait..." Chloe lifted her index finger to add emphasis, "This man is a gift and a blessing. Hallelujah!" She snapped her fingers, patted down her straight light chocolate hair at the roots and once she was content with what she saw in the mirror turned on one heel and sashayed down the hall.
A smile tugged at Gemma's lips before she let out a laugh. To be young, wild and free again she thought to herself while pushing her massage table in the middle of the room spraying it with disinfectant then wiping it down getting everything ready for her client who, apparently, was a gift from God?
It wasn't that Gemma was actually old, she was only 28. It was just that being married, working long nine hour days and never going out, with the exception to Target for groceries classified her as 'not fun anymore' by her girlfriends. And Chloe. And co-workers. And sometimes even her husband. Which for Gemma was perfectly understandable. She lost her fun edge once he put a ring on it. Her nights of drinking heavily and dancing in heels till the sun came up in skimpy dresses were now replaced with getting as much sleep as she could and an unnatural addiction to Pinterest.
Her thoughts were interrupted once the clicking of heels were heard coming up the hall. Gemma prepped herself and grabbed her long black locks which cascaded past her shoulders and gathered them to form a messy bun on top of her head and grabbed her black framed glasses. Obviously it was all about comfort for her. Taking one more quick glance over in the mirror and tucking stray locks of hair behind her ears she turned her direction to the sudden stop of clicks.
Holy shit... was her only thought and probably the only words she could say... If she could talk.