After our impromptu dinner date, he became very friendly in public which caused a lot of rumors to start swelling around. All it took was for him to say hi to me backstage with a bunch of people around and word was we were sleeping together. It felt like high school, to be honest, with the rumors and the cattiness. It was hard to deflect it all because no matter how many times I said there was nothing going on, that he was just a nice guy, no one believed me.
A month of dimpled smiles and rampant rumors went by and I was soon distracted by work. They were starting to progress me into a storyline and it felt like all my dreams were coming true until I read the script one day and saw that the storyline I had been dreaming of was quickly turning into a romantic line with not just anyone, but with my dimple smiled semi-stalker.
"Says here that you are to kiss me in a dreamy haze after being saved from near fatality during a match," came his voice from behind me. I had been trying to hide after discovering what was in store for me, knowing that the rumors would be swirling. I turned around to face him, a small frown on my lips. He noticed my expression and quickly tried to make the save. "I mean near fatality? Who writes this shit?"
"Did you make this happen?" I asked before the words could really process. For a split second he looked like he'd been caught but he quickly countered.
"What? No, of course not. The boss just likes your potential I guess." He ducked his gaze down to the papers in his hands. He'd given himself away.
"Just make sure they don't cut my wrestling out of this and we won't have a problem." Looking back I couldn't believe my own audacity. Who was I to talk to this top guy like this? Was I crazy? The Lord givith and the Lord shall take it away. I didn't need to be pissing anyone off so early on in my stint here.
"Well it just so happens that I like your wrestling so you have nothing to worry about," he said with a smile, unphased by the tone of my comeback.
"Alright, well, good," I responded, flustered that he could care less that I had just so boldly spoken to him.
"If you want to practice, I'm not opposed," he flirted and I was instantly turned off. This wasn't the same guy I had dinner with weeks ago. This wasn't the tired man I saw in the hall on my first day here. Hell, this was hardly the same guy who smiled and said hi to me in the hallways.
"No thank you," I laughed and brushed past him to head back to where most of the workers were buzzing around. He had to be kidding me.
I thought about that obnoxious flirting moment with him as I walked to the ring for my match the night of the hotel debacle. I could barely hear the roar of the crowd, it was like everything was silenced as I stalked to the ring to face my opponent. I imagined him using the same line on her or something similar and her falling for it, falling all over herself and him at the chance to sleep with him. Flashes of his hand on her cheek kept passing before my eyes as I climbed into the ring and as soon as the bell rang, I slapped the same cheek he had been touching earlier.
The storyline called for a slightly psycho hell turn on my part and I really let loose and went with my emotions during the match. As much as I despised my blonde opponent I also couldn't blame her for what I had witnessed earlier. She didn't know that the man she had been kissing earlier had actually been dating ME for the past six months. No, the blame was all on him but with nowhere else to take my aggression out, I poured it all into my match.
Giving credit where credit was due, I wasn't wrestling just any bimbo model. She knew her stuff and could put up a fight so when I let loose, she rolled with the punches, sometimes literally, and the match had been spectacular. We pulled off spots that hadn't been done in a Diva's match in ages and the crowd was hot. In-between rushes of adrenaline that silenced everything around me, I heard bursts of cheers as I hit move after move. I got the pin and didn't linger after my music hit and my arm was raised in victory. I was vaguely aware of how special that match was as I walked backstage and the congratulations started. It felt like everything was in slow motion, people's voices slurring as my adrenaline wore off a little and I went back to the dressing room to get my things. The rest is a blur.
