September 24, 2000

Unforgiven was airing live from the First Union Centre in Philly, the home of last year's WrestleMania. I arrived at the arena super early, when there was only a small handful of fans waiting at the back of the arena. They were yelling and asking for autographs, which is something I don't usually give out. But I posed for a few pictures before I went inside to get the morning started. I had to meet with the IT team to go over how they were going to cover the night's event before I had to meet with Dad to go over how we were going to be running the show. It was a bit of a long meeting - it's always a little bit longer on pay-per-view days - but we all left the meeting in high spirits. I tasked Michelle, one of our website photographers, to get the pictures of Rinoa with her new championship. With everyone banned from ringside, the general feeling is that my sister doesn't have a shot in hell.

After I dismissed the meeting, I made my way to Gorilla, high-fiving and slapping hands and exchanging greetings with my co-workers. I spotted Chyna getting her makeup done, but she didn't acknowledge me. The two of us used to be really close friends, but there's some kind of triangle between her, my sister, and Hunter, so I've been branded guilt by association. I offered her a wave, but she either didn't notice, or she chose to ignore me. Dad's been at his wit's end with her contract negotiations. He wanted me to give it a shot, but she's not giving me an inch, either. Dad quickly realized that whatever is happening with those three, our friendship has dissolved because of it. I won't be any help for it.

In Gorilla, I found Dad talking with Pat Patterson, Gerry Brisco, Jerry Lawler, and JR. They were going over notes for the evening, and the which order the matches were going to fall on the card. Dad's a very hands-on owner, and I know the match order will change two or three times before showtime. I took my place beside Gerry and remained silent while they bickered and plotted. When it was over, Jerry, JR, and Pat walked through the curtain, where the ring, set, and commentary tables were being built. Dad turned to me. "Good morning," I greeted.

"Shane." Vince handed me a stack of paperwork and leather bound files. "I need you to take these to my office."

"Sure." I knew he could have radioed for someone to do it for him if it was so important, and I wanted to say something acerbic, but doing such a thing on show day is suicide. My dad can be a very high-strung and demanding individual in general, but it's always amplified when there's a show to go on. The scales tip a bit one Sunday a month, however, because of the different sets. I took the files from him and left in silence; after all, it gave me an excuse to get my morning coffee on the way back.

"Hey!"

I turned in the middle of the curtain that separated Gorilla from backstage. "What?"

"The guy left Rinoa's nameplate in my office," Vince informed me. "Since she's your little buddy, I figured you could grab that while you're there." Dad's tone was less-than-impressed, but I nodded and got the hell out of his sight.

My dad always has a list of demands for the things he wants in his office when we do a show. It always includes a big desk, a comfortable desk chair, a leather couch, and food trays. He only spends a few hours in the office before and after the show. During the show, Dad, Gerry, and I take our places behind a table in Gorilla and run the show from there.

His office was empty, and I was relieved to find that Stephanie hadn't taken it over with Hunter. She does that most months. I put everything down on the right corner of the desk in a neat stack because Dad would lose his mind if I left a mess in the office. The black box with Rinoa's nameplate was on his desk, right in the middle. I picked it up and opened the box, grinning when I saw her name staring back at me.

The gold plate was freshly polished. I couldn't stop staring at it. I've seen a million of these things in my day, but there's something about seeing hers that felt really special. Tonight is a night that she's been dreaming of her entire life. Her quest for this - and Chris Jericho, though I'll never give him credit to his face - are the reasons why our paths have crossed.

I didn't have a chance to get in touch with Rinoa before I had to come to the arena, so I have no idea how she's feeling today. It's at the top of my list to catch up with her sometime before the match, to pass along information about where the photo shoot is going to take place and to get a gauge on how she's feeling. Rinoa has been doing this for years; she knows the pressure that comes with being a champion and she knows that it's going to come at the expense of the boss's daughter. If I were in her shoes, I'd probably be extremely nervous.

I shut the box and put it down when there was knocking on the door. "Come on in!" I called out, turning and leaning against the desk.

The door opened and Rinoa walked into the room, dressed in this red sweater that looked incredible on her. She looked surprised to see me; meanwhile, my smile was so wide that my face burned. "Good morning, Noa. Just the woman I wanted to see. Are you ready for tonight?" I greeted. I was hoping that I sounded casual, and not super creepy. As friendly as we are, I could still blow everything. And then probably end up sued. I've seen it happen to my father a number of times.

"I'm as ready as I'm going to be, I guess," she said with a shrug. She looked around the office. "I heard you were looking for me. What did you want to see me for?"

"I have something you're going to want to see," I told her, handing the box to her. She looked at me quizzically, but she took it. I watched her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, light up when she opened the box and saw the nameplate. "I wanted to show it to you before your match. A little bit of added motivation," I added with a grin. She looked at me and shook her head.

"I don't know how much this is going to help with the nerves, but this is incredible."

"I'd be more worried if you weren't nervous," I told her. She closed the box and handed it back to me. "A lot of girls would kill to be in your spot tonight, Noa. It's not a secret that my sister hasn't endeared herself to anybody back here."

"Still not helping."

"You're going to kill it tonight, Noa. You got this." She smiled. Every time she smiles at me, it's like a shot in the chest.

"Thank you, Shane. For everything," she blurted. "I know I haven't really said it, but I appreciate everything you've done for me since I got here."

"I know you do, Noa. It's all good."

"I really hate to cut this short, but I need to go and start getting ready."

"Yeah. I've got to get this nameplate over to the prop department." I looked down at the box. "Between you, me, and the fence post, Noa - I think you're going to make an incredible Women's Champion."

She looked genuinely touched by my words. "Thank you."

"Break a leg tonight. Preferably not yours." We shared a laugh, and I watched her leave. When the door shut behind her, I leaned against the desk and took a deep breath. I couldn't help but think about how prevalent the rumors seem to be about the two of us, and I couldn't help but think about doing the last loop with Tommy and the Dudleys. They're right; I'm in all kinds of trouble here. Dating a Diva is just as forbidden as Steph dating one of the boys; my father would bring the guillotine down on her harder than he ever would with Hunter. I wouldn't wish that on her for anything.

It's not really a secret back here that I've had a bit of trouble personally. I let myself disappear from things for awhile. I know that I want to get to know Rinoa more, that I would love to see where things could go if I knew how to proceed without killing her career, but the fact that people are harassing me over this hasn't been making things any easier. There's so much to think about, and the majority of it is unwelcome thoughts. I looked down at the box in my hands and shrugged. I needed to get it to props so I could get back to Dad right away; the last thing I need is someone telling him that Rinoa and I were alone in here for a while. I wouldn't hear the end of it.

She stood less than six feet away from me, walking back and forth, in blue and purple gear that looked incredible. She was trying to keep herself composed, but I could tell that she was incredibly nervous. Her hands were shaking. We locked eyes for a moment, and I gave her the most reassuring smile I could muster from my spot. She smiled back and nodded, and then the music on the other side of the curtain picked up and she was gone, through the curtains and onto the stage. From there, I could only watch her from the monitor. Once she stepped through the curtains, the nerves and the fear disappeared from her face completely; from where I sat, she looked like a seasoned competitor ready for battle.

Stephanie walked into Gorilla while Rinoa was posing in the ring. The Women's Championship was over her shoulder. I could see that Stephanie was nervous, and I couldn't blame her; Rinoa's Last Breath finisher is absolutely devastating. Dad looked up at her and gave her a smile. "Good luck out there, Stephanie." She flashed him a smile, and a scowl at me - for obvious reasons - and disappeared through the curtain when Hunter's music hit the speakers. The heat my sister generates is unreal. The crowd heaped all kinds of abuse on her as she walked down to the ring. Inside the ropes, Rinoa paced back and forth like a caged animal, like she was ready to attack and maul my sister the second she got into the ring.

I was into the match, clapping whenever Rinoa got offense and shouting the occasional "That's how it's done" when Rinoa got my sister on the ropes. It wasn't a hard day's work for Rinoa to dispatch my sister and take the Women's Championship when the odds were fair. When the referee's hand went down for the three count, I pumped my fist and quickly found myself getting stared at by both my father and Gerry. I cleared my throat and straightened myself up and tried - and failed - to keep the giddiness to myself. In the ring, Rinoa cried, holding the title in both arms. She got to her feet and had her hand raised by the referee. When he dropped it, she moved to the corner where the hard camera was and got onto the second rope, holding the title high over her head. The screen was almost whited out from the flashing of cameras. It was insane.

Chris poked his head in. "She coming?"

"She is. Wait there. I'll send her your way." Chris nodded and disappeared down the steps.

When she was halfway up the ramp, I took off my headphones and dropped them on the table. I wanted to be the first person she saw when she stepped through the curtain. Selfish, I know. I have no real defense for it. It wasn't that I didn't want Chris in the area; I just knew she was going to be overwhelmed and needed a moment to breathe. It's her first Women's Championship.

She walked through the curtain struggling to compose herself. Her hair was wild and her makeup was a mess, but she still looked beautiful. I approached and hugged her tightly. "Congratulations, Champ," I told her. I'm not sure what reaction I was expecting, but her sobbing even harder was definitely not it.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry," she repeated, pulling away from me a little so she could wipe her eyes. "I just...I can't believe it." I let go of her so she could examine her title. It still had Stephanie's nameplate on it, but by the end of the night, it would be hers. She was at the top of the division now, the queen on her throne, and I couldn't think of anyone better to represent the division and the company. I learned from Dad that her media day had been a success, that people genuinely seemed to like her more than the women who he had chosen to be the face.

"Chris is just past the curtain. He wants to see you." I could feel Dad watching the two of us, but I ignored him. "Do you need a minute?" I asked. She nodded.

"Yeah. If Chris sees me crying, I'll never hear the end of it," she confessed with a laugh. She wiped at her eyes and smoothed her hair as best she could. "How do I look?" she asked, taking a step back.

"Like you just won the biggest match of your career, Champ." We turned as Dad approached. He extended his hand to Rinoa.

"Congratulations, Rinoa," he offered. The look he gave me was red-hot. If Rinoa noticed, she was too overwhelmed by her victory to do or say anything.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything," Rinoa blurted. Dad beamed because he can't resist when someone gives him any kind of credit or adulation. Rinoa excused herself and then she was gone. Dad took his place beside me.

"You two are awfully chummy," he pointed out.

"Don't even go there," I told him with a roll of my eyes. Steve Blackman walked into Gorilla, ready for his Hardcore Championship match. Dad and I rounded the table and took our places on either side of Gerry. I put my headset back on and Steve disappeared through the curtain. For the rest of the night, all I wanted to do was take a break. I wanted to find Rinoa and see what the Women's Champion's plans were for her night. Dad watched me like a hawk. A few times during the course of the evening, I felt his glare on me. Gerry was tense beside me, but the two of us did the best we could to focus on our jobs. If I got caught up in every little thing my father did or said to me, I wouldn't be able to live my life.