Just an FYI that every chapter is named after a song by the Canadian band The Tragically Hip. If you haven't given them a listen, please do – start with Three Pistols.

XXXXXXXXXX

Colby Lopez hated stuffy people in stuffy suits speaking with their stuffy accents about their stuffy colleagues. But, for the sake of his job, he knew he had to put up with them, just for the night. When he signed up for the WWE, he didn't think part of his job would include attending New York City charity events on behalf of the company, but there was a clause in the contract that said "and any other duties as assigned." He figured this was one of those duties.

The whole night was made worse by the fact that none of his other colleagues had been invited; the invitation only specified one person to go on behalf of the company, and Stephanie McMahon had chosen him. He didn't see why he would be the first person to pop into her mind. Kids hated him, so by extension their parents probably did too, and he wasn't the most sociable person with people he didn't know. He knew how to work a room, but only if that room was full of people he knew, or at least with people he knew had the same interests as him. This wasn't one of those cases.

He didn't know what to expect when he walked into the "Brookfield Ballroom" other than they he knew it would be full of people. He was greeted immediately with a server offering him a hors d'oeuvres to eat. He passed on the food, making a beeline to the ladies who were giving people their table numbers.

"Your name, sir?" the overly perky girl asked.

"Colby Lopez."

He waited patiently as she found his name. "Colby Lopez, Seth Rollins?" she asked, confused at the two names that were on the sheet in front of her.

He was surprised his kayfabe name was listed. He thought he'd only have to use his legal name at the event, but apparently he was wrong. He guessed "Colby Lopez" didn't have the same appeal to bidders as "Seth Rollins" did. "That's me," Colby smiled. "You can say I have a dual personality."

The girl apparently didn't get the joke. "You're at table fourteen," she informed him, her perky voice back. "Would you like someone to guide you to your table?"

"I think I'll be okay," he said, walking away. He was unimpressed already with everything around him. He wondered how much more unimpressed he'd become when he actually entered into the hall and endured the bidding process.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What are you digging for tonight?" Laura asked Yara as she sipped on her champagne. "Who bids the most? Who didn't bid at all?"

"Whatever I can get," Yara mused, taking a sip from her own champagne flute, not nearly as done as Laura's. "James doesn't give me any assignments. He knows I'll just stumble upon information that'll lead us to gold."

"Well how nice for you," Laura mocked jokingly. "Some of us actually have to work to get any dirt."

Yara looked around the room to see the usual – a lot of New York socialites, hedge fund managers, bank executives, hot-shot lawyers, moneyed members of families who sat and did nothing all day – the typical New York City set. These were the people spending money that night, to raise funds for various charities that were being spotlighted, most of them children's charities. It was Yara's job to report on what happened that evening. It was Yara's job to get any juicy details out of the professionals in attendance. The manager of the New York Giants was in attendance – was their assistant coach really getting demoted? Richard Clarke, the infamous hedge fund manager, and his new trophy wife were also in attendance – did his acrimonious divorce really set him back $50 million dollars, a $25 million dollar townhouse in the Upper East Side, and $60,000 a month in alimony? What about Abigail Westland, of the moneyed Westland family from Connecticut – had she really begun working for the governor so she could start her career in politics?

"Are we sitting together?" Laura asked, snapping Yara from her thoughts. Yara watched as Laura downed the last of her champagne. As a waiter passed she placed the empty flute on his tray.

"I don't think so. I'm table fourteen, you're 21 – and odd is always on the opposite side of the room," Yara said. Laura let out a moan. "You know James always requests this, so we can get more information from both sides of the room. You should be used to it by now."

"I am. I just think it's stupid that I can't sit next to my co-worker," Laura said. "Everybody knows we work for the New York Social. It's not some big secret."

Yara smiled. "I'm so honoured you want to sit next to me, but knowing my luck I'll probably be seated next to Tom Wright. God knows how boring he is, but I flirt and by the end of the night he lets things slip."

XXXXXXXXXX

Colby had introduced himself to the few men and women who were sitting at the same table as he was, but he had already forgotten their names. He was so bad at this. Knowing him he'd end up calling them by the wrong name sometime tonight. Either that or he'd pull a Seinfeld… "Oh…YOU!" At least he was getting fed.

When the music died down and the MC announced that the dinner was about to begin, the attendees scrambled to get to their seats. A few more people arrived at his table, and he greeted them and introduced himself cordially before sitting down. There was still an empty seat to his right. He wondered if he looked that out of place that not even anyone at his table wanted to move a chair over to sit next to him.

"Well don't you look like a fish out of water," he heard a female voice say from behind him. He turned to his right to see a woman standing in a demure black dress; her dark hair curled and pinned down on one side. She took a seat next to him, already smiling.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked, his voice low enough so others at the table wouldn't hear.

"Not really, I've just been around these things so much that I can tell." The woman took her napkin and unfolded it, placing it on her lap. "What media outlet are you from?"

"Oh, I'm not media," Colby said quickly.

"I'm sorry, then what organization?"

"I'm from the WWE. I'm here as a representative for one of the auction prizes," he informed her.

"The WWE?"

"You know, World Wrestling Entertainment."

A light bulb went off in the woman's head. "Ah, right! Vince and Stephanie McMahon!"

"That's them."

"So you work in head office?" she asked.

"Oh God no," Colby shook his head. "I'm uh, I'm one of the wrestlers…performers…whatever. I'm a wrestler."

"Oh! What's your name?"

Colby paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer. "Do you…do you want my wrestling name or my real name?" He felt stupid for asking, but he felt like it was a legitimate question, seeing as he had just named the company he worked for. Maybe she had a niece or nephew that watched wrestling, and she wanted to see if he was the one they hated so she could brag to them later.

The woman smirked. "Well what do you want me to call you?"

"Colby. Colby Lopez."

"I'm Yara Ghanbari," she extended her hand to shake his. "It's really nice to meet you, Colby."

"Likewise."

"And thanks for keeping the seat next to Tom Wright open," she nodded her head slightly to the man that was sitting to her right, who was speaking with a woman who had approached the table.

Tom Wright. He had introduced himself to Tom Wright five minutes ago, and it was one of the names he forgot. "I'm surprised you remembered his name. I didn't."

"Don't feel bad, not a lot of people do."

"Do you know a lot of people here?" he asked.

"I know everybody here," she said, looking out onto the rest of the tables. "I don't mean for that to sound weird. It's my job to know everybody here."

"So you'll be able to save my ass when I forget everyone's name," Colby smiled, taking a sip of his water.

Yara couldn't help but laugh. "Exactly. I'll be your sidekick for the night, Mr. Colby Lopez from the WWE."

XXXXXXXXXX

Colby couldn't keep up with everything Yara was telling him. They had talked throughout the first course of dinner, but she was going a mile a minute. Despite him not knowing nor truly understanding how or why exactly she knew everybody in the room, Yara intrigued him like no other. He had definitely taken a liking to her. She was warm, charming, and knew how to get information out of people, as he had witnessed during a specific conversation she'd had with Tom Wright. He had to admit, he was even a little intimidated by her, and many people didn't intimidate him.

Now, they were at the bar together, waiting for some drinks. She had dragged him along, hoping to run in to someone, even though they didn't. Yara had her eye out for people around them, pointing out everyone she knew to Colby.

"Mmkay, you see that man in the navy suit, with the black lapels?" Yara pointed out from the bar where she and Colby were standing, waiting for their drinks. Colby nodded his head. "Will Tupper. He's one of the biggest hedge fund managers at JP Morgan Chase. And you see that woman with the blonde bob?" Colby nodded his head again. "Allanah Graham. She's on the board for Conde Nast, the publication that prints Vogue. And that guy, the one with the bowtie who shouldn't be wearing a bowtie? Ultimate douche. His name is Alex McCaul. Don't even go near him. No word of a lie, he does nothing with his life. Yet he thinks he's the master of the universe because his dad is a powerful attorney with a lot of money and influence in New York. I cry sometimes because he's so stupid."

Colby couldn't help but laugh at Yara's last comment, but he was so taken aback by her knowledge of everyone in the room. He could barely keep up with the names she was spewing off. She was like a walking encyclopaedia for people in New York City. "How do you know all this?" Colby asked incredulously.

"I told you, it's my job to know everyone," she said plainly. "A lot of these people hold a lot of powerful positions within New York, or they come from moneyed families and all that jazz. They're the people that run this city. People want to talk about them, and read about them, so I provide them with that outlet."

"You write about these people for your magazine?" Colby asked.

Yara nodded her head. "Well, I mean…I write about what happens on the New York City social scene for my magazine. These people just happen to play a major role in it," she explained. "It's not the most ideal job, but it pays the bills for living in New York. And I mean…I'm good at it. I at least have to admit that. I'm very good at my job."

Colby didn't think he'd ever met anyone with a position like Yara's. She was like a celebrity gossip columnist, except only for New York City. It was weird to him. He understood a lot of powerful people settled in New York, but why would she want to write about them? "So what's going to be released tomorrow then, about tonight?" Colby asked.

Yara shrugged her shoulders. "Not much right now. My boss wants the numbers tonight, since it's an auction, so he's going to want to know who paid for what and how much. That's when I'll really need to be attentive."

"What about me, you're not going to include me?" he asked, smiling at her as they finally got their drinks. If he wasn't going to be able to keep up with her, he would at least tease her light-heartedly. Maybe even flirt. It was the only thing he could think of doing.

Yara smirked, bringing the straw of her gin and tonic up to her lips. "No. I never write about people I actually like," she said, taking a sip of the alcohol. "Let's go back to the table. I need to get some more information out of Tom Wright."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Oh naw naw naw naw," Colby muttered to himself, his Mid-West accent out in full force. "Please for the love of God no."

"What's going on?" Yara whispered, the auctioneer's voice booming throughout the room. "That woman bid $5000 for your charity!"

"That woman is a creep," Colby hissed. "She spends buttloads of money for herself and her adult son to attend all these special backstage opportunities and then she flirts with the wrestlers while her son pretends to actually be one of the wrestlers," he explained. "It's awful."

"How many times have you seen her?" Yara asked.

"Like three times alone this year," Colby said. "Oh God, someone outbid her, please, please, pleeeease."

Yara took a look at the woman who had a smug look on her face. Yara didn't recognize her at all – she hadn't seen her at any other charity events, which meant she was probably just a one-off. She looked back at Colby, who was clearly trying to avoid eye-contact with the woman. She knew any sport could have the creepy super-fans. Clearly this woman and her son were some of them. $5000 was a lot of money, and Yara knew James gave her a budget.

"Five thousand dollars to Apex Corp, do I see someone for 5100 – 5100 for New York Social Magazine, do I see someone for 52 – 5200 for Apex Corp! Do I see someone for – 5500 for New York Social magazine!"

"Yara, what are you doing?" Colby asked, realizing what was going on once his head was out of his hands.

"Just sit back and relax, I've got ten grand to spend," Yara said calmly.

"Yara -"

"Just shut it Colby, unless you want me to stop outbidding her."

Colby shut his mouth.

When all was said and done Yara had spent $8000 for the Exclusive WWE Experience at the Performance Centre, benefitting Connor's Cure. She received a polite applause from the attendees for her perseverance and determination in out-bidding the other bidder. The auction had stopped momentarily, but would continue in 15 minutes. Colby couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. Yara had dropped some serious cash on a prize that had to do with a company she knew nothing about, was not a fan of, and probably would never become a fan of. It was crazy to him. Absolute insanity. He didn't know why she would do such a thing. Yet – he was still intrigued by her actions. Why would she do something so crazy, something in such haste?

"So are these WWE Experiences fun or what? What do I get to do?" Yara asked, smiling at Colby after she had gone to the side of the stage to collect her prize, nestled in a manila envelope.

"I can't believe you'd do that for someone you just met two hours ago," he said, ignoring her question. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I could," she shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, you really didn't want that other lady to win."

"Yara -"

"Let's just say you owe me," she smirked at him. "Maybe you should be the one to lead me on the tour."

Colby was taken aback by Yara's actions and words. He didn't know what to make of her, almost bidding $10,000 for a WWE Experience, telling him he should be the one to lead the tour. For the first time in a long time, he was practically rendered speechless. "I don't believe you."

"Not a lot of people do."

"No, I mean I really don't believe you."

Yara chuckled. "You'll get used to me. When you get to know me you'll find out a lot of things, as most people do."

That peaked his interest. Truth be told, he'd jump at the opportunity to get to know more about her. He was in New York until tomorrow afternoon, and it would be a pretty lonely existence until he had to go to the airport. He'd probably hit up a gym, do some CrossFit, but other than that he was completely alone.

Before he could say another word, he saw, from behind Yara, a woman making a beeline to their table. Luckily for him, it wasn't the superfan. She looked to be about Yara's age, with long, straight, dirty blonde hair and a red low-cut dress.

She placed a hand on Yara's shoulder to get her attention. Yara turned around the second she felt the hand on her shoulder. "Are you fucking nuts?" the woman asked her.

"I was given $10,000 to spend!" Yara justified herself.

"On a freaking WWE Experience?"

"It's benefitting Connor's Cure, Laura," Yara said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's going towards a good cause."

"A WWE Experience," Laura repeated. "Have you gone insane? You've gone insane."

Yara smiled devilishly. Colby could tell she was a woman who always had something up her sleeve. "Laura, have you met Colby Lopez?" she gestured to Colby. Laura shook his hand politely and managed out a 'Pleasure to meet you' through a tight-lipped smile. "Laura, how about you go mingle with Anita Diaz," Yara offered.

"Anita Diaz?"

"She just bid $15,000 for a NASCAR weekend for her sons – try to see if she's bringing her step-sons too or if their mother is still bitter about the custody arrangement."

Laura sighed audibly. "The things I do for you," she said, before walking away.

Yara turned back to Colby to see a bemused yet slightly horrified look on his face. "Was that your boss?" he asked.

"Oh God no. That's my best friend."

"She seems pretty angry with you."

"She's always pretty angry with me."

"She is right, though," Colby mused, smirking. "You are crazy."

Yara shrugged her shoulders, a wry smile on her face. "Crazy enough to leave this party early. Wanna get out of here?"

Colby smiled like the Cheshire cat. "I thought you'd never ask."