You Still Matter

Smile and wave. It'll all be over soon.

Sasha bit her bottom lip as she limped her way down the hallway, the back of her hand pressed firmly to her lower back. She made her way through the various swarms of people with her eyes focused intently on the ground ahead of her. Every now and again, she would glance up, make eye contact with a stranger, and she would have to plaster a sugary smile to cover the pain.

She didn't realize how sore she would be, but she knew that she would be. The pain she felt with each step made her toes curl within her boots. Her legs were about to fall beneath her, but she continued limping forward. Her eyes were filled with tears, yet she managed to somehow hold them back.

Don't let them see you cry.

Sasha paused for some crew members who were dragging handfuls of cords and wires around the corner. The pressure she applied to her back as she stood straight up was enough to cause her legs to nearly go numb. If she had just been more careful out there, she wouldn't have taken that bump in the corner so roughly. If she had approached that corner with caution, she might have had the strength to kick-out of Charlotte's counter.

Charlotte might not have won.

Sasha would still have her championship.

Groaning through the thought, Sasha shook her head and continued walking. She didn't really know where she was headed. She just wanted to escape the crowded arena for a few seconds so she could cry if she needed to without being seen.

Sadness is a weakness, Sasha. Suck it up and keep your head up.

How could she have lost that match? She was so prepared. She knew Charlotte's move set like the back of her own hand. There wasn't a single moment in that match that she couldn't have anticipated.

Charlotte was a beast in the ring, no doubt. Sasha knew that. Sasha knew that every second spent in that ring with Charlotte would be a battle. She knew that there wasn't a chance that she could sweep the ring without a fight from the - new - champion.

However, she also knew that she was capable of beating Charlotte. She had done it before. She had pulled that woman's blonde hair back and wrapped her hands around her chin, locking her in the Bank Statement and forcing her to tap out. It was more than just possible, it had been done.

So, why couldn't she do it once more?

You're just a failure - admit it.

Sasha's eyes scanned the area around her until they spotted an exit door to her right. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that nobody was standing around her, which would make re-entering the arena difficult, but she didn't care. Dragging her feet behind her, Sasha limped toward the door.

As soon as her face hit the crisp air of Brooklyn, she could smell her own defeat. She didn't bother waiting for the door to close behind her before she let out a sob.

She knew that through the thick layer of water coating her eyes that the world around her looked the same as it had when she arrived to the arena earlier that same day. The same tour buses were parked out back. The same buildings stood off in the distance. The same sky hovered about her short body. Everything was the same and everything felt different.

Tears were dripping from her cheeks. Her hands couldn't contain the salty water that slipped down her skin and hit the floor silently.

For the first time in nearly a month, she felt lost. Not in the geographical sense. She knew where she was. However, she no longer knew if she was in the right place anymore. Did she deserve to run the ropes if she couldn't hold a title for more than a few weeks? Did she deserve to wear attire that resembles Eddie Guerrero's? Did she deserve to have millions of young children chanting her name? Did she deserve to call herself a boss?

What did she deserve? Did she deserve anything at all?

A rush of reality ran through her and for a moment, the tears stopped. There were still women on the roster who hadn't won a single title since joining the company. There were still women on the roster who hadn't won a single title in the entirety of their careers. She was lucky.

So, did she take that luck for granted? Did she run on luck for so long that she lost it? Did she wish to be something so special that her wishes lost some power? Was she just destined to be a one-hit-wonder? She could already hear people asking who she was.

Then she could hear people asking for her.

She shook her head and ran a hand down her face. She was just hearing things.

Sasha tried to ignore the noises that she dismissed as thoughts until those "thoughts" were louder than her sobs.

"Sasha? Is that you?"

It was the second or third time she heard the same questions asked, she couldn't tell exactly. She jerked her head around and recognized - through her sobs - a familiar face.

"Enzo?" She wiped her tears quickly. "I didn't see you. How long have you been out here?"

"Long enough to see you crying' your eyes out."

His blunt statement made her stomach drop. Her cheeks filled up with a deep red and Sasha ran her hand down her face one last time before making her way towards the door. "I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"Hey," Enzo called out as he wrapped a hand around Sasha's wrist. "Why don't 'ya tell me what's got 'ya down?"

Don't tell him, Sasha. He's already seen you cry.

"It's nothing," she dismissed.

Her words sparked a scoff to come from Enzo's loud mouth. He released her wrist and stepped away. "You don't have to tell me, Banks. However, you also don't have to lie to me. Clearly, something's bothering you. I don't gotta be a therapist to see that."

Sasha looked up into his eyes for a brief moment before shooting her head up towards the sky. Cornflower blue with a handful of wispy clouds draped over the bright sun, per usual. The sun was slowly lowering down behind the buildings out ahead of her, so without glancing at a clock she knew that the night was approaching. It would be the first night in almost an entire month that Sasha would fall asleep with the comfort of knowing that her championship was only a few feet away from her sleeping body. The reminder brought fresh tears to her already soaked eyes.

"Oh, come on. Tell me what's the matta'?"

Sasha shook her head at his poor pronunciation, but didn't acknowledge it verbally. Her mind was far too distracted to concern itself with English at the moment.

Tears mixed with sweat that glistened on Sasha's collarbone, as she wasn't fast enough to wipe away her emotions. "I've worked so hard to get where I am. Nothing that happened tonight was supposed to happen. I'm not ready to let go of that title, Enzo. I'm just not ready."

Without warrant, Enzo pulled the woman into his chest and wrapped his arms around her body. He held her for a few seconds before pressing his lips to her head and speaking into her colored hair.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, Banks. You're the Boss, remember?"

"I thought I was the Bauce?"

Enzo laughed whole-heartedly and pulled away. He had nearly forgotten that part of his segment with Sasha only three or so weeks earlier, but being reminded about it brought a wave of happiness that he hadn't felt all night since losing his match against Jericho and Owens.

"See? You're that too. You're a lot of things, Banks."

"I'm not the champ."

"Currently, no. But, to somebody out there you'll always be."

Sasha blinked a tear away, feeling the satisfaction of not crying any further in front of Enzo. She finally looked back up and locked eyes with him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Enzo shrugged. "Why are you so sad?"

"I already told you why I'm sad."

"And I've already told you that 'ya shouldn't be." He watched her gulp silently. "So, why are you still sad?"

Sasha had the word 'vulnerability' been etched into her forehead. Tears threatened to escape and all she could do was clench her jaw in hopes that she could hold herself together.

Why did she feel so upset? She knew that Enzo was right. There had to be people out there who loved her so much that they would always support her and her short reign. There would always be someone who wanted the best for her and would not stop at anything make sure she knows how loved she is. In addition, despite this knowledge, Sasha couldn't help but feel broken.

When she fell from the top rope in that match, she didn't just get hurt physically. She broke herself inside.

"Wouldn't you be sad if you lost everything you've ever worked for in a matter of minutes? Wouldn't you be sad if you walked out there tonight expecting the best, only to walk out empty handed?" She shook her head and scoffed before she could get choked up. "Wouldn't you be sad if you no longer mattered?"

Sasha couldn't refrain from curling her lips into a smirk that quickly faded away. The idea of being irrelevant, just as she always felt she was before signing with the WWE, was almost humorous to her. She used to have everything and it all went away in the blink of an eye.

"You still matter, Sasha."

With no recognition that he used her first name, Sasha continued. "Of course I don't."

"You matter, Sasha."

"To who?"

"To me."

His words struck something in her chest that she couldn't register. Sasha's vulnerability intensified by an infinite amount and her cheeks were no longer brushed with a rosy tint, but had transitioned into a deep wine shade that she couldn't cover fast enough with her hands.

She stood there and stared up at him without breathing for nearly thirty seconds. Once she finally breathed, it was interrupted by her thoughts. What did he mean? Did he just use her real name? Does he have feelings for her? Was she reading into it? Was he just being nice? Sasha ridiculed herself internally. He was probably just being nice.

That's when she remembered the feeling of his body, wrapped around hers just moments prior to his cryptic words. The power he held her with. The warmth of his skin. The pressure of his lips as they pressed against her artificially-colored hair. The weight she felt and how it was lifted from her shoulders and seemingly landing on his. The way that he didn't mind how her weight shifted to his.

She couldn't have read into that.

Say something, Sasha. Say something, you fool.

"What do you mean?"

Enzo's eyebrows raised. He was shocked that he spit those words out with such ease. His vocal chords weren't connected to his brain, he figured. It was strange, being that way. He was such a smart talker. He always knew the right things to say and when to say them. So, why did he feel like such a tool when standing in front of Sasha?

He shook his head and took another cautious step away. "I just mean that you shouldn't feel so bad about tonight. You've got people who need to see 'ya smile. People like me."

There he goes again.

Sasha wanted to say something back, but he walked away. Her cheeks were dry, as were her eyes. Once Enzo was completely gone from her sight, she looked back towards the horizon where she saw the sun was nearly set behind the buildings ahead. She hadn't realized how long they'd been talking, but she didn't care.

She still felt lost, but it didn't seem to matter.

She still did to him.