She was always really nice. Not a push over. Not a martyr. Not passive aggressive. Just, nice. And kind. And funny. And beautiful. And before he knew it, Dolph had a huge crush on Naomi.
He always saw her around, but they were mostly just acquaintances and didn't run in the same circle. She was married, and on Total Divas, so her life on the road just looked and felt different than his. He was thoroughly un-tethered, making inroads to becoming a comedian, and mostly just enjoying being a good-looking single dude. They didn't have a whole lot in common.
But still, she was there. She acknowledged when he said hi to her. She laughed along when he had everyone backstage enraptured with a story he was telling. She congratulated him many times after wins, or offered a consoling smile after a tough loss. She was a familiar presence, but more just a figure in his life than an actual friend.
That afternoon, Dolph felt jumpy in his skin, ready and waiting for something to feel real, something to happen. He had been in meetings all day, where he was told that he would be entering the IC title picture that night on RAW. This meant he would be in a match at Wrestlemania, the grandest stage of them all, and suddenly the last few months of highs and lows between winning Survivor Series and then getting fired hadn't all been for nothing. He would get another chance to make an impression, to tell a story, to get the fans fired up in a way only he could. So he was excited, but jumpy and anxious for everything that was on the horizon.
Catering was empty, so as he filled up a plate with warmed over food from the chafing dishes, he was singing his theme song to himself under his breath. He did it absently, getting caught up in the swells and loops of his soaring music, getting carried away as he put chicken to plate with steel tongs. As he turned around to take a seat, he did so with great flair and drama, really bopping along to the sound of his own voice and the accompanying music in his head. He was in the middle of "I'm here to show the w-", when upon turning he realized there was someone else in the room, and he was startled to embarrassed silence.
It was Naomi. She laughed, letting out a huge peal of ebullient laughter, while he tried to compose himself and not feel like a complete fool.
"Hey…I didn't…see-…" He said, looking down awkwardly, trying to avoid making eye contact. He cleared his throat and looked up, letting his thoughts trail off as the words died in his throat at the sight of her.
She wheezed an exhale, catching her breath and then moving towards the food. She walked past him coolly, still draped in faint laughter. She wasn't really acknowledging him and his embarrassment as she fixed herself a plate.
He sat down and attempted to eat, pretending that it was just a normal thing that happened, and trying to ignore her looming presence in the room. The silence between them was enormous and he felt like a complete freak.
Instead, she spoke, not at him, but just to the air mostly, "So you were really feeling yourself, huh?"
Her words cut right through the silence and to the heart of him. She said this sly and charming, lightly teasing, with no malice. And just like that, the tension dissipated and he laughed too. He was relieved that she thought it was funny (or maybe even…cute?) as opposed to creepy that he had just been singing his own theme. Passionately. To himself.
Before he could answer with anything witty or substantial, she came and sat down next to him.
The energy of her whole mien was overwhelming. She was wearing a bright orange maxi dress, the color popping against her smooth skin, making her look like a tropical dream. Her hair was long and wavy, and she was wearing rich red matte lipstick. She radiated heat and lightness, and he felt his chest get a little tight just from being so close to her. They had never really been alone in a room together before, or sat that close. They were after all just co-workers and casual acquaintances.
He was suddenly nervous, unsure of himself, so he just started talking. He was trying to fill the space, but also trying to keep himself from staring at her weirdly. He talked more and more, trying to keep from getting lost in her dense floral perfume as it wafted towards him. He told her about how he was going to be in the IC ladder match next month and that he was going to go out to announce it tonight. How excited he was to be in Wrestlemania this year, but also nervous and restless for RAW.
She was happy for him in a benevolent way, offering a huge smile, and a light tap on his forearm for emphasis, "Dolph! That's great. That's amazing!" He smiled big, eschewing humility and instead pretending to be haughty and campy and gesturing to himself like he expected the praise.
But, as she smiled at him and offered more encouragement and gentle laughter, she was also a little wistful. She enjoyed hearing about his success just as she did hearing about anyone's hard earned good fortune. But this was all tempered with her own frustration and inertia. And so she expressed it, suddenly finding herself unable to stop talking to this man whom she had just caught in a weirdly vulnerable little moment.
The words came pouring out of her, and she felt Dolph's eyes on her face as she spoke, laying herself bare.
She was frustrated. She was lost in her husband's gimmick. Her storyline with the Miz had fizzled with no real conclusion and now she was acting solely as the Usos' valet. She liked coming out with them, she liked getting the crowd worked up, getting to stand beside her man. She certainly didn't dislike it, and at least she was getting to be on TV.
But what she really loved was competing. She loved getting to show off her moveset, really getting in the ring and moving in a way no other Diva could, performing for a crowd and feeling them react. It wasn't easy getting people to take you seriously as an athletic Diva, and it definitely wasn't easy being a black Diva in this company. She had wrestled a bit recently with Nattie as part of an inter-gender 6-person tag match, but she knew that had its limits. There was no Inter-Gender belt, at least not since the days of Andy Kaufman. And so now she found herself feeling…rudderless, aimless, lost in the shuffle.
Dolph didn't just nod along, he really listened, and he was angry for her too. He understood her frustration. He knew she was a hell of a worker, and that she should be out there every week on TV feuding with a Bella or Paige or AJ, and he told her told her as much. He knew what it felt like to work week in and week out, but feel like you were going nowhere because you weren't one of the anointed favorites.
She looked at him thoughtfully, taking in the honesty and sincerity of his words. A pregnant silence hung between them, brimming with mutual understanding and empathy. They both felt unburdened a bit, warm in the trust of another person, letting it all just settle around them, the din of the empty arena swirling through the air.
And then there was a spark in her eye.
"You know what you should do for tonight? You should let me braid your hair." It sounded like a half joke, but there was a cleverness in her voice, maybe the faintest bit of mischief in her tone.
Dolph opened his mouth to reply, unsure of what was going to come out. As he looked into her face, trying to gauge if she was being sincere, he was suddenly swept up in the brightness of her, the entirety of her, all of her beauty and sweetness, suddenly lost in the dreamy idea of her fingers in his hair, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth. "We should do that, we should totally do that!" full of boyish enthusiasm and excitement.
She nodded, with a sly smile, "Alright, yeah, let's do this. It'll be fun! Come find me before your match and I'll hook you up." She got up to leave, putting a hand on his upper arm as she walked past him, "You're gonna look amazing."
And so there he was, alone again in catering, even more excited and anxious for tonight than he was before, the touch of Naomi's hand still lingering on his arm long after she had left.