A week later

I walked with Steph to wardrobe. I'd talked to them about making me an outfit and they had told me nothing except that it would be "Shawn Michaels-esque". I was excited beyond compare. It was my very first night being a part of the show, and I got a new outfit! What more could I ask for?

My new gear was so much more than I could have asked for. A soft white dress with a sweet heart neckline and quarter sleeves, but the bottom was splattered with Shawn's logo: broken hearts. I paired it with some white heels. It was perfect.

I donned the outfit immediately and modeled it for Stephanie. "What do you think?" I asked excitedly.

"You look like a manager!"

I hugged her tightly. "I still can't believe this is happening!"

"Sarah McMahon to Vince's office."

I gave Steph a winning smile and trotted off to Dad's office. I did a spin for him.

"You look beautiful. Just like your mother," he told me. I blushed, even though I knew he was mostly just being nice. "Have a seat."

I sat down across from him, trying to look professional. Probably failing, but at least I was trying. I was so nervous that I wasn't going to live up to his expectations. I wanted to be treated like an adult, and I had to act like one.

He began to pace. "Shawn's wrestling a dark match against Razor Ramon tonight. I thought it would be the best time to bring you out, just in case you got stage fright-"

"I'm not scared," I declared.

He stopped in his tracks, turning to smile somberly at me. "That's right. I taught you to never be scared."

I kept my chin held high, looking much braver than I felt. That was the McMahon way. Even if you felt like you were falling apart, you plastered on a smile and went about your way. No wonder we never knew when something was wrong.

He continued his pacing. "Now, we don't have much for you to do-yet. You're arm candy. Come out, pose, wave to the crowd-think Jackie Kennedy." He looked over at me for confirmation. He seemed nervous, which was strange. He was never nervous-or so I saw.

"Jackie Kennedy was actually very bright and active in JFK's campaign."

He laughed, breaking apart that concerned feeling and the wall he'd been putting up around it. "Fine; Miss Elizabeth, then."

I nodded. I could do that. Go out, be America's new sweetheart. Simple. If it was really so simple, then why were the butterflies in my stomach going crazy? "Got it."

There was a knock on the door. Dad's office was always busy.

"Come in."

In walked Shane. I walked over to give him a hug immediately. "You're here!" Shane was my older brother, about five years older than me. I looked up to him so much. I used to almost worship him when I was younger-I thought he was so cool. We were still close, but I hadn't seen him in a while.

"Of course I am. I couldn't miss the debut of my baby sis, could I?" He grinned at me.

I returned the smile. "Thank you."

"Sarah McMahon to gorilla."

"Hey, Dad?" I asked. "It's Katherine," I told him, refering to the intercom. They kept calling me Sarah, and only Dad still called me that.

I hurried down to gorilla position, the space right between backstage and the arena, named for Gorilla Monsoon.

Shawn was waiting there already. His shoulders were back, making him look taller and more confident. His blonde hair fell over his shoulders in waves. I noticed, possibly for the first time, that he had a tattoo on his left arm.

"Sorry! I was talking to Dad," I apologized for my lateness. I turned to one of the backstage personel. "Can you let them know to call my name as Katherine, instead of Sarah?"

He nodded.

Shawn's music hit, and he held his arm out to me. I took it, and he escorted me out onto the stage. I plastered a huge smile on my face, which wasn't hard, since I was already packed with too much excitement for my small frame to hold.

It was amazing-as soon as we walked out from behind the curtain, Shawn immediately became animated and lively, shouting and gesturing to the cheering crowd. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I knew, then and there, that I was head over heels in love with this business.

I smiled and waved as Shawn walked us down the ramp.

"Now making his way to the ring, from San Antonio, Texas, weighing in at 225 pounds, and accompanied by Katherine McMahon-Shawn Michaels!" the announcer shouted above the din of the crowd.

The crowd was nuts. I was overwhelmed by the atmosphere of that room just then. I almost forgot my simple instructions-walk and wave. I remembered, however, and started up again, beaming. I'm sure I was positively radiating with joy.

Shawn held the ring ropes open for me. And stupid, clumsy me, I still managed to trip on them. I caught myself, but it still looked awkward as hell. My face felt hot when I stood back up, but I took it in stride. Dad had a saying: when we're live, nothing can go wrong. If you trip on the ropes entering the ring, you meant to do it. So I forced myself to stop blushing and acted as if I'd planned the whole thing.

Shawn tilted his head, looking at me in wonder. His blue eyes alone were enough to make me melt, but then he smiled at me. He thought it was funny! It was; I had to stifle a laugh. My first time in the ring, and I'd tripped.

Shawn stepped in and showed me off properly, twirling me around in the center of the ring. Then he crouched to do his signature pose, while I stood behind him and smiled.

I couldn't hear them, but I was sure commentary was going wild about what they thought about the new girl on Shawn Michaels' arm.

Razor's music started and I stepped out onto the apron. Thankfully, I didn't trip again.

I didn't know Razor personally, but I thought his name was something like Scott or Sam or something with an "S". He was part of Shawn's group of friends. They called themselves the "Kliq". They always had Dad's ear, and anytime they wanted to talk to him, I had to leave. Typical business. Mark called them troublemakers, but they just seemed like normal guys to me.

When Razor finally entered the ring and got settled, the referee called for the bell and the match began.

I cheered loudly for Shawn, really playing up my concern. I was playing the damsel in distress, and I needed my hero to win.

Shawn and Razor put on a flawless match. You could just tell the passion they had for wrestling ran deep.

Shawn got the pin, and the referee raised his arm as his music began to play. I took this as my cue to come congratulate him. I rushed into the ring and threw my arms around him.

The audience "aww"ed at us, and I knew they'd gotten behind us. Shawn, in the heat of the moment, leaned down and kissed me. He kissed me! My heart flittered. It was all for the audience, but I didn't care.

As we got back through the curtain, you'd have thought Shawn had just shot me right in the middle of the ring. Dad was livid. In my face, in Shawn's face, "YOU-KEEP-YOUR-LIPS-OFF-MY-DAUGHTER", flipping a lid. Shawn raised his arms as if he was surrendering. Multiple people we trying to calm my dad down, including Shane and Mark. And me. Shawn looked like he wanted to retaliate back, but Razor settled him, along with a few of his others friends that were there instantly.

I shut everything down when I stepped in the middle of everyone. "QUIET!"

Everyone stopped to stare at me. I never raised my voice, especially in public.

I turned to face Dad. "Shawn was doing what you pay him to do. He was playing out his character for the audience. Did you not hear that pop they gave us? Besides, you don't get to decide who I kiss or don't." The harshest words I'd probably ever said to my father. His face scrunched up like he was going to fire back, but I didn't let him. "You don't own me."

Then I raised my arm and slapped him across the face. Time slowed down in that one moment, and I knew , right before my hand touched his skin, that there was no turning back. What I was about to do would change my life forever. And so my palm collided with his cheek.

Stunned silence. From everyone.

I ran from them, all of them. I didn't want to talk to anyone any longer.

I heard my name being called behind me as I stormed away.

"Sarah!" Dad.
"Princess!" Mark.
"Kat!" Shane.
"Sis!" Stephanie.
And the only one that I cared about. "Katherine!" Shawn.

I didn't want to talk to him either, so I ignored all of them and shut myself in the bathroom. Angry tears poured from eyes. I hated that. I cried when I was angry, and it always made it look like I was getting sad or emotional. I furiously wiped them away and glance up in the mirror. I tried to see myself as an adult; like I was, like I wanted to be. But I could only see me how everyone else did; a stupid little girl.

How could Dad be like that? As much as I'd like it to, the kiss didn't even mean anything! He was too damn overprotective, especially for not even being very present in my life. What claim did have to me? None.

But underneath my anger towards my dad was a pit of guilt. I'd never talked back to him before, and I'd certainly never struck him. There was no return from this point. My stomach churned.

There was a knock at the door.

"Go away." I didn't want to talk. Or listen. Dad had already shouted his point.

"It's Shawn." He spoke softly, probably not wanting to fire me up.

I don't know why, but something made me open the door a inch. "What do you want?"

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. He was still gleaming with sweat, and not wearing a shirt. He'd come right after me.

"I, uh, wanted to see if you were okay."

I softened. "I'm fine. Dad just... well, overreacts."

He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I can see that." He looked up at me. "Are you crying?"

I hid my face in my hands and wiped my wet cheeks. "Angry tears. My greatest curse."

He laughed. "Could've fooled me. I'd have guessed your greatest curse was running into people."

I blushed, but chuckled as well. He was funny, and sweet. "Thank you for checking on me."

"Don't mention it. Hey, uh, obviously I need a shower, but afterwards me and the boys were going to head out. You, uh, can come with us, if you want."

I was floored. Two weeks prior, if you told me Shawn Michaels would be invited me to ride with him, I would have laughed in your face. But now...

"Dad won't like that."

"The old man doesn't have to know." He was metaphorically reaching out a hand to me, I had to decide whether to grab it.

"Sure." Consider our hands intertwined.

With my dad, I'd reached the point of no return. When you can't go back, your only choice is to move forward. My forward was Shawn. I was leaping off the cliff, and I just hoped he would be at the bottom to catch me.