Exactly one week had passed since I started working with the WWE, along with working with Mark. I knew that I would have to spend more time with him, which also meant instigating fights between wrestlers. I wasn't looking forward to it, that was for sure - because I knew that along with new arguments with new superstars, I wouldn't be able to just forget the fight that I had started with Jericho and the Big Show.
Mark had decided that he was going to get me ready if I ever needed to fight in the ring - which if last week was a sign of what was in store for me and my career, I would have to have quite a few skills and fast. So, that would be why I was walking through a gym in the city that Friday Night Smackdown was in that week. I think it was Denver, but don't hold me to it. I wore a pair of red shorts and a black tank top which had "Diva" in cursive writing across the chest, my dark hair pulled back into a bun. My water bottle in hand, I walked around, looking for the Goliath that I had started to work with earlier that week. When I saw him, I have a gave him a half smile, "Hey there," I mumbled- however, his attention was on the punching bag that he was making move around with each hit. I wondered if I would ever be expected to hit a bag that hard - or a person, for that matter. He gave a breath of air with each hit and I knew that I was expected to be silent until he acknowledged me. Mark Calloway was very different than the Undertaker which was seen every week on television. Unlike his persona, he wore no eyeliner, his hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and he wore a pair of black sweats and a white wife beater. No frills, that was for sure. Once he was done, he looked down to me and gave a small nod of his head. "How are you doing, Ashley?" he asked me, sipping from his protein shake. I grimaced and he gave a small chuckle. "Still sore, then?" I gave a groan, "Oh, my god," I said. "You have absolutely no idea how sore I am!" I whined, moving with him when he started to go off towards the treadmills. He motioned for me to hop on and I did, afraid if I didn't, he'd get angry with me again - and I did not want the Undertaker angry with me. He moved to the one next to me and gave a nod of his head, starting to jog.I matched his pace. "I know," Mark said, "I get that way when I haven't been in the ring in a while," he informed before shrugging his shoulders. "You get used to that pain and it soon becomes addictive," he shrugged. "Just wait until that time…" he smiled. Somehow, I thought, I didn't think that I would really want to have that time happen in my life. I hated working out, surprise, surprise, I worked with the WWE. I knew that if I didn't start working out, however, that Vince would soon get on my case. And if I thought that the Undertaker was bad when angry - I did not want to be around when Vincent Kennedy McMahon got pissed.
After about a minute and a half, I was ready to give up, but I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of Mark. So, I pushed myself. "How long have you wanted to work for the WWE?" he asked me, raising an eyebrow over to me. I noticed how his eyes crinkled in the corner, even when he was raising his eyebrows. His face had seen a lot of stress, I figured. Hell, last time I checked, he was one of the two people who had started with Monday Night Raw when it first aired and was still with it to this day. I think Shawn was the other one…"Ashley.."I jerked my head over to him, I hadn't been paying attention. Suddenly I felt like I was a child, about to be chided by my father for not having paid attention to everything that he had said. Surprisingly, he gave a small smile. "Oh," I said gently. "I would say…. About five years? My grandpa and I watched Raw all of the time."Mark nodded, "How does he feel about you finally getting here?" he asked.
Slowly, I shook my head. "He passed away about a year and a half ago," I told him as I slowed down my pace - suddenly not feeling like running anymore. "Oh," Mark said, his turn to feel awkward. "I'm sorry to hear that," he nodded. I shrugged, "It's all good, he was a great guy - but I know that it would've been selfish to keep him here. He was in pain on Earth and now he's up in heaven."Mark was silent."How does your family take you being in the WWE?" I asked. His face faltered, falling just the slightest bit before he shook his head roughly. "We'll talk about that some other time. What we need to do is get a game plan working," he said. "We need to figure out where you want to be in the company in three weeks," he said slowly. "I mean, we need to know who you want to have fought - we're taking this story line up until pay-per-view," he nodded. I bit my bottom lip, "I don't really know," I confessed. "Honestly, I just wanted to be a ring announcer, maybe move up after a while and write some storylines or something - I don't really want to be apart of a storyline," I shrugged. For once, I heard him give a booming chuckle. "A girl who doesn't want to be apart of the spotlight?" he asked, hitting his thigh. "Wow," he said. "That's impressive. Storyline writers usually are people who used to wrestle," he nodded. "So, I mean, you're on the right track," Mark shrugged. "But, let's see… do you want to wrestle at all? Or do you wanna be just my little…" he shrugged his shoulder. "My little…. Escort type of thing."I thought about this for a second or two. What did I want to do? If I became a real diva and not just his escort, I could have even more power in the company once the story line ended. However, I really did not think that this story line would just go away in three weeks. Not one bit, especially if I knew the company like I thought that I did. But, if I stayed his escort, I couldn't be touched… I couldn't be put into a mixed-gender tag teamed match. I contemplated this again before sighing slowly. "What do you think I should do?" I asked. Mark eyed me up and down, stopped his treadmill and jumped off, "C'mere," he said. I did the same and stood in front of him. His cold eyes weren't as cold without their eyeliner, he watched me intently before he reached out and pushed me gently. I gave a small gasp but kept my balance. "What did you do that for?" I snapped suddenly. "It's for balance -- if you don't have balance, you have no business being in that ring as a wrestler," Mark informed me. He then let his hand go to his chin, "I think that you have what it takes," he said simply. "You've got the look--" I smiled. "The damsel in distress look," Mark shrugged. The smile went away. "The look that says if you had to, you could fight your way out of a paper bag," he said. "That's what guys like.. The girls that can be stupid and ditzy, yet throw a punch… wear skimpy clothes…" Mark gave a dog-like grin. I scoffed. "Is that what you go for?" I said, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip. "I go for degrees in business or better, " Taker told me, rolling his eyes. "Divas are skanks."
"Good thing I'm not a diva, huh?" I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. He shrugged. "Yet."--Vince McMahon's office reminded me a lot of my high school principal's office back in Jersey. It had maroon walls, a large window in the back and a very modern looking desk and other matching pieces of furniture. If I wasn't there with Mark, I could have possibly thrown up on myself, worried about what I was there for. But since Mark was there, I knew that I was there to sign the contract. When I walked into Vince's office, I felt underdressed. I wore a black pair of high heels, a high-waisted black skirt that hugged my hips and a pink button up blouse which was tucked into said skirt. My long dark curls were pulled back in a half pony-tail with a few framing my face. I pursed my lips, taking in Vince's appearance.
Vince was a very tailored man, with a very tailored look. He currently wore a black suit with a gray shirt and black tie. His hair was perfectly styled and his shoes were so shiny that I could see myself in them. Mark, however, obviously didn't care about the meeting with his boss enough, to change out of a pair of dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt. The man owned so much black that I was shocked. It looked like an rebelling eighth-graders' wardrobe. I pouted my lips and when Vince told me to sit, I did, in a comfortable white chair next to Mark. "Now! Ms. Edwards!" he said. "I hope that you are comfortable with the idea of being Mark's escort for the next three weeks," he beamed. "I know that we are very happy to be able to offer you a spot on our storyline. Now, as Shane might have told you - you will be required to travel with Mark, to each show, every week. Since Mark is not on ECW, or will not be on NXT training a rookie, you will be required to show up for Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown's recordings." I nodded my head and Mark simply leaned back in his spot. "Yes, Mr. McMahon," I said gently. "Vince, please," he said gently. "Mr. McMahon was my father.."I gave a smile at his remark and relaxed a little bit. "You will be able to talk "trash" to any male on the roster, and once you get a few wrestling moves in your arsenal, you will be able to talk "trash" to any female on the roster as well. The only thing that we ask is that you give either Mark, or I a heads-up to whom you will be talking to that evening. Like, tonight," Vince said. "Is Monday Night Raw -- who would you like for Mark to go up against?" Mark and I had spoken about this at the gym earlier in the day and had come up with a good opponent for the evening. "The Miz," I said gently. "I will let Mike know shortly." Mark gave a soft cough, "Vince, if this really picks up," he said, his tone rather smooth. "Would we be able to extend this, perhaps? I was thinking about how Shawn was talking about a rematch at Mania this year," he said. "I could have Ashley go out there and talk smack to like, D-Generation X or something?" Mark asked. I quirked a brow. Would that mean that I would be a heel after I started talking crap about Shawn Michaels and Triple H? I bit my bottom lip gently while Vince seemed to wonder about this idea that Mark had just given. "Like, right after the Elimination Chamber match, I could have Ashley go out there and talk all this smack--""See," Vince said, putting his hand up, silencing Mark quickly. "We're doing the whole, Shawn is trying to get you to give him the rematch at Mania - starting up at the Slammy awards," Vince shrugged. "IF- and only if, you wanted to have Ashley to be along for the ride on the road to Wrestlemania, then you're going to have to make sure, personally, that this story line works and that the WWE universe doesn't get sick of it." Vince said simply. Mark pursed his lips as I watched him interestedly. If Mark had to keep me around for Wrestlemania, that was at least four months away! I was surprised that he was coming up with ideas to keep me here. Keep me with him.
Vince's office was silent for a long moment, I knew that we were all thinking about how we could keep the storyline interesting. "What if," Mark said softly. I turned, looking to Mark with an interested look - I was really wondering what he could have come up with. The way he looked was making me nervous, however. He paused to make me squirm a bit before giving me a knowing laugh. "What if," he continued slowly. "We go ahead and make it so we have a big guy, maybe like the Big Show--" Vine cut him off again. "No, no. I'm not using the Big Show again," he said. "He gets out of control with his storylines and I don't need her," he jabbed his finger to me. "Getting hurt."I made a note to say thank you to him later. "Alright," Mark said softly. "Then, we stick with my other idea," he said. "We start to date.""What?" I choked. Vince smirked, "Mark, you know that this would change your persona," he said. "You wouldn't be the anti-hero, you wouldn't be the Dead Man… You'd have a heart."Mark pursed his lips before exhaling slowly. "I know.""Would you be willing to do that?" Vince asked before I gave a nervous shrug of my shoulders. "I don't care."--Vince sent the contract off to be revised while Mark and I waited outside of WWE Corporate. We'd have to fly to the show in about an hour - meaning that I would be flying out with Mark. If I were to be his girlfriend, to ease the suspicion of the WWE Universe, I would be required to act like I truly was dating Mark Calloway. I pursed my lips and let my hands go to my hips while Mark lit up his cigarette. "Stop pacing," Mark told me firmly. I ignored him and continued to move back and forth out of nerves. "Ashley," Mark said again. "Stop pacing.""Don't tell me to stop pacing!" I said. Before I knew it, he had flicked his cigarette, moved to my side and grabbed me, holding me tight to his chest. It had been seven days since I had felt him this close to me and I knew that if I wasn't careful, I would soon become addicted to his touch. Something about the proximity of our bodies must have made him feel a bit awkward as well because he soon dropped my waist as if it were on fire. "Stop it," Mark said once again. "Excuse me, Mark? Ashley? Mr. McMahon will see you now," a blonde said from the glass double doors. She was Vince's secretary. "Thanks, Mimi," Mark nodded before stomping on his half-burnt cigarette. "Tell Vince I'm going to be a few? I'm gonna stop and get a soda." he told me.
I groaned and walked inside, up to the elevator and punched the button. "Temper, temper," a voice resonated from behind me. I frowned, this wasn't Mark's voice, either. It gave me chills, though. I pouted and looked over my shoulder to see Chris Jericho. He was wearing the same snide grin that made me wake up in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat. "What are you doing here, Ashley?" he asked with a sickeningly sweet tone.I raised an eyebrow, staying silent."Oh, so now you shut up?" Chris asked. "You talk now when your 500 pound buddy isn't around? Shocking…" It was Mark. "Take your tramp on home, Taker… I'll see you at the show tonight." Chris snapped as the elevator doors opened, he stepped in.
I frowned and opened my mouth to speak but Taker's tattooed arm was looped around my waist, leading me to the stairwell, pushing the door open and stopping.
"Are you okay?" Mark asked genuinely. I was silent again - suddenly, I couldn't speak and I was feeling sick to my stomach."Ashley!" Mark hissed. "Are you alright?"I simply nodded, "I'm fine…" I murmured. He took my hand and led me up the stairs towards Vince's office. "I don't really think that this is going to be as easy as you think," I told him."What do you mean?""People are going to start being this mean to me…. Just as mean as Chris was! I don't want to be hated…""I'm here," Mark shrugged. "But what if you're ever not?" I asked.I pouted and crossed my arms as we reached Vince's floor. I was happy to see that Jericho wasn't there. He must've gone somewhere else. Mark cleared his throat. "I won't not be where you are, Ashley. We're stuck together," he said. "Believe me," he said. "I'll get Jericho for talking to you like that," he said softly. "Don't worry." He squeezed my hand as we walked into Vince's office. "Dedication to your storyline already. I love it!" he boomed, handing us a pen and pushing the contract to us. I sighed gently. "Ladies first," Mark nodded. I sighed and let my hand go to the paper, placing the pen to the line above my typed name. Writing in my cursive writing, I traced each letter of Ashley Nicole Edwards and then moved, handing the paper to Mark. Once we were done, we shook Vince's hand and then walked out. "You signed your life away to the Devil," Mark whispered, taking my hand again. "C'mon, I'mma gonna take you out to dinner."