Perseverance

by Bob the Taco Thief

The 4 Horsewomen in the world of MMA: The story nobody asked for.

10. Chapter 13

Charlotte

"Perfect. I'll be in LA on Monday and we can sit down to finalize this." Charlotte voice filled with cheer and professionalism.

"Great! Looking forward to it. Becky was a huge reason for me getting into MMA so a chance to work on the same team as her, under the Flair name is a dream come true." Toni Storm's accent coming through even over the phone.

Charlotte looked down at her laptop and took notice of the time. "Well everyone here is excited to have you on board." Biting her lip at the small lie. She hadn't mentioned this to Becky yet but bringing another fighter to train with could only help her preparation for the Banks fight. Unless of course, Becky decided to make a fuss. "I've got to get running but I'm glad we were able to come to an agreement. Welcome to the team."

A few minutes later and Charlotte was all ready to get moving. A light jacket thrown on to fight off the chill during the small walk to her car. Becky, Alexa and Bobby should be landing in about an hour and she was supposed to be picking them up from Logan International.

Just as she was about to leave a tentative knock came on the office doorframe caught her attention. "Hey Ruby. What's up? I'm just getting ready to go pick up everyone." Charlotte hadn't travelled to London for the first press conference. As much as she had wanted to be there given Becky's recent mishaps she trusted Alexa and Bobby to keep her in check. She was still trying to figure out exactly how to handle Becky's little excursion in New York. Alexa had informed her that she found the redhead after losing her and they had miraculously made it to London on time.

Ruby wasn't her normal confident self. Something that quickly had Charlotte wondering what was wrong. "Hey. I just wanted to ask you a quick question. Nothing big though."

Charlotte knew Ruby. She knew that something was obviously bothering her. "I've always got time for you. They can wait a bit."

"Was just wondering what your plans are with the new girl." Hovering in the doorway like she wasn't sure about stepping further in.

A frown overtook Charlotte's face. When she first had met Ruby the blonde had honestly never imagined that they would become friends. If anyone simply looked at the two they appeared to be polar opposites but over time they had come to realize they were more alike than they thought. Bonding over their mutual need to prove themselves to those who thought they knew them at a glance. "I'm not replacing you, Rube."

She seemed to have hit the nail on the head. "I… I just don't like not knowing. Everything's been changing so much since Lynch came on board. I just don't want to lose my friend."

Charlotte gave her a soft smile. "You aren't losing me or your spot on this team. I know we've all been focusing on Becky lately but you don't have to worry. Once this press tour is over things will settle down."

Ruby smiled back. "You know it's been awhile since we've gone out. I've been wanting to get a new tattoo. Luke was willing to give me a discount if I bring in some more work for him. You feel like getting a new one of your own?"

"I will take you up on that offer. Maybe we can go when I get back."

"Awesome. I'll call and see if he has a spot available for us. Drive safe."

Charlotte shook her head at the woman's tough exterior. On the inside she was a softy but you wouldn't know that at first glance.

When she was finally in her car and enroute Charlotte let herself wonder how best to handle Becky's second relapse. There was something deeper at play here and she began to think that the stress of this press tour might be too much for her fighter. But there was no way Shane would let her back out or delay at this point. She hoped this was just another bump in the road but having seen addiction waste away the last year of Reid's life she knew that it wasn't.

At least Becky hadn't done anything too crazy. She tried not to think about how her blood boiled when Alexa mentioned finding her in bed with three women. That was just her being protective and disappointed. If only part of her didn't feel more than a tiny bit jealous she might believe that.

She groaned out loud in the car and used the voice feature to call Bayley without taking her hands off the wheel. It might be a little awkward to discuss given how Bayley and Becky had last parted but Charlotte didn't know who else to talk to about the confusing feelings stirring inside of her.

She wished that she could just go back to hating Becky. It would make things so much easier than whatever this was.

Charlotte wasn't sure exactly when it started but Becky had started to haunt her daily life. When she cooked, she imagined Becky's commenting on the food with her normal snarky attitude. When she worked out she imagined Becky critiquing her form and giving her shit with a wide smile on her stupidly gorgeous face.

The phone call went through to the reporter's voicemail and Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows. She had called Bayley three times now in the last few days and each time the reporter didn't pick up, nor call back. It was so outside of the woman she knew that Charlotte was now really worried about her.

She was already going to LA to meet up with Toni, but now she had another goal while she was out there.

Find out what the hell was up with her friend.

Bayley

This made the third alarm she'd ignored today.

Bayley was lying on her couch, staring blankly at her dark TV. If she counted all the alarms she'd ignored recently, it would probably be close to twenty now. Bayley ordinarily led a very structured life. This was mostly by simply inclination but also a method of keeping anxiety at bay. She had set times each day when she would update her social media accounts, when she would post any articles she had, or when she'd do anything else for her site.

None of those things had been done for several days now.

Becky's voicemail had shaken Bayley to her core. Far more than one would have expected, even from such a hurtful tirade. Had it arrived at almost any other time in her life, Bayley would have been hurt and probably cried over it. But she would have noted Becky's obviously intoxicated state and reached out to her a few days later.

Bayley was under no illusions. She knew that alcohol didn't change anyone's personality, it just revealed it. If Becky was capable of saying those things while drunk then she was thinking them while sober, on some level. But Bayley would have been willing to try and work through it with the fighter.

But the voicemail had, it seemed, been the proverbial straw. And Bayley's emotional back was well and truly broken. Weeks or maybe even months and years of half-acknowledged insecurities and regrets had been the gunpowder, and the voicemail had been the fuse.

Lately, she'd been more down that was normal for her. It was a combination of many things but one of the larger factors was a continued sense of dislocation in her life. It had been a long time since she'd left her embedded gig in Boston, and yet she was realizing she hadn't been truly happy with her job ever since, even with ESPN.

But thoughts like these would inevitably lead to her deeper problem. She would think about Becky, and even Charlotte had repeatedly lashed out at her. Then she would remember how she'd taken almost no time to be angry or even indignant over these episodes. Almost everyone would commend her for this, and she did make a conscious effort not to hold grudges. But was she taking that too much to heart, to the extent that she was a doormat?

But this possibility was somehow not the most disturbing possibility. The other was that both Becky and Charlotte were just good people at their cores. The only common inciting factor was Bayley herself. Then she'd remember how when she'd begun her secret relationship with Sasha, the fighter had been fully in control of 'the Boss'. But while she'd been with Bayley, this persona had seized control of her.

Bayley was forced to ask: Was she, with no intention of being so, a toxic person. And the worst kind of toxic person, the one who didn't seem toxic even as they damaged the lives of others around her. This might explain why she'd never been able to make a relationship work.

Her phone buzzed again on her coffee table. It seemed to take an inordinate amount of effort on her part to pick the device up and activate its screen. She saw that it was an incoming call from Charlotte Flair. In her depressive haze, the days were starting to blend together but she seemed to remember Charlotte calling several times before this. She ignored the call and set the phone back down. She was wondering where she'd order salty food from that day when her phone buzzed again.

She was tempted to ignore it but some impulse made her pick it up. It was a text message from Charlotte. The preview read: " Are you alright? Please tell me. If you…" The message was truncated in its preview form, but Bayley could guess at the rest. Part of her felt bad for making Charlotte worry, but another part just wished the other woman would take the hint.

She was in the process of ordering almost $40 worth of food when the phone rang again. She swore at this if it was Charlotte she might just pick up and show the blonde how it felt to get dumped on. But the screen showed that it was AJ calling. Sighing Bayley debated for a moment but then answered.

"Hello?"

" You're a hard one to get ahold of these days Martinez, how are you?" Styles asked.

"Yeah, sorry about that AJ. I'm pretty sick," Bayley answered.

"Not too sick I hope, I need you to head out to Boston. We want you at the next Banks-Lynch presser," AJ said, with the air of someone offering a great treat.

On some level, Bayley knew that in previous times she would have almost leapt out of her skin at this. It was the kind of opportunity that almost never came the way of freelancers like her. Yet now, all she could feel was apathy.

"I'm sorry AJ, I can't do it. I'm not feeling up to it," she said.

" Are you serious? This is a huge break for anyone. I've got other reporters that would kill for this slot," Styles said incredulously. Bayley pursed her lips at this, Styles had placed the blade perfectly into her professional conscience. It was time to end this call before she gave in like the doormat she was.

"AJ, I'm having...uh…'feminine' problems," she said. In her experience, if you gave this excuse to a man they would pretty much let you do anything you wanted. Styles proved to be no exception.

" Oh...I...ummm...I'm sorry to hear- errr...just tell me when you're feeling better. I'll try to get you to the next one," he said, sounding extremely uncomfortable.

"I will, thanks for understanding," Bayley said before hanging up.

Dropping heavily down onto her couch once more, Bayley suddenly found she was too tired to even order food. She just stared blankly ahead, losing track of time as she did. Wondering why everyone she touched seemed to end up worse off for it.

Becky

Being back in Boston was nice. Even though there was another press conference in two days she was able to relax a little bit before everything began again.

She couldn't help but think about Shane's words after the last one in London.

She had been around long enough to know that respect didn't sell. People wanted the trash talk. The meaner the better. People may scoff and raise their noses when it happens but in the end they would all turn in to see two people who hate each other get locked in a cage and settle their differences with their fists.

It wasn't something she normally begrudged. Before her injury she had delighted in it. But right now she felt ill equipped.

Sasha had beaten her soundly in their last fight. No matter what Becky did that trump card was always there waiting to be played. Her old confidence had been shattered by Banks and nothing but a victory over the brash younger fighter would ever heal those wounds. But until then she was at a massive disadvantage.

She tried to let the thoughts drift to the back of her mind and ignore it but it was always there.

Becky was more than a little tired after the flight but insisted on coming into the gym to teach her class. She already felt guilty enough about missing the last one. Not to mention that, due to the press tour she would likely miss the next few classes as well.

Ruby helped her as always but Becky couldn't help but notice a few faces that were noticeably no longer there. The class a few heads shorter than it was last time.

"Ruby, have you seen Lizzie? Was she here last week?" She asked.

"Haven't seen her. Maybe she's sick or something. We have her mom's number on file. Why don't you give her a call after class."

So here Becky was after cleaning up, patiently listening to the phone ring as she tapped a finger against her thigh.

"Hello?"

"Hello Ms. Wilson. This is Becky Lynch. I was just calling to check up on Lizzie and see if everything was well. We missed her at class tonight?"

An uncomfortable silence followed for a few seconds. "Lizzie is fine."

"Oh… That's good to hear." Becky gave a small uncomfortable laugh to try and break the odd tension she could feel even through the phone. "Will she be back next week. Because-"

"She won't be back."

The interruption felt like a slap. Maybe it was supposed to. "Is it money problems or scheduling? We can work around whatever it is. I know she loved coming to class and we loved having her here."

"Listen. I don't want you calling here again. I try to keep my daughter away from bad influences. She wanted to go because she looked up to you and I relented. In retrospect I wish I would have told her no. I knew your history but let her go anyway since that reporter said you'd been sober and were trying to be better. But then I heard about what you did to that poor girl Carmella. I can't allow my child to be around a drunk who sexually assaults someone at a funeral "

Becky's heart began to drop. It was all too easy to see where this was going. "I understand." She didn't even want to try and defend herself. It was clear Torrie's mind was already made up and any protest would be met with dismissal. Becky had already gone onto Mojo's podcast to refute Carmella's claims and even Bayley had made it clear that the whole story was a fabrication.

"Do you have a child?"

"No. I don't." Becky responded in a flat monotone.

"Then you can't possibly understand. Lizzie needs people to look up to. I thought that might have been you… I was wrong. Goodbye Ms. Lynch. Please don't make any more attempts to contact us."

The call disconnected and Becky stood there. Unmoving as she tried to fight back the sadness that threatened to pull her under.

Silently walking out to her jeep. Silently driving back to her apartment.

Her apartment silent, save for the noise her feet made as she shuffled across the carpet.

She looked around the mostly empty space in silence.

Becky pulled her phone out. Pulling up her music playlist and filling the emptiness with artificial noise.

Surrounded by the music she still felt as empty as her apartment.

Sasha

"Faster hands! Or that's what happens," Meng barked at Sasha from where he stood behind the wing-Chun dummy. This was a form of training Sasha had never used before and she was getting frustrated. Resembling a vertical post with three evenly spaced wooden arms at head, chest and waist height. Meng had modified this model with the third arm which allowed him to manipulate it from behind. So even as Sasha sent one set of bars spinning she had to be mindful of another set that might get sent spinning at any time.

She hadn't been aware enough that last time, as she'd set the lower and middle sections spinning, the upper section had swung around to clock her on the side of the head. Growling she took a step back shook her head to clear it.

"It's going to be hard to train me if you concuss me," she snarled.

"Awww maybe you'd like to ice it down with a champagne bottle and a whore?" Meng taunted. Despite their extremely adversarial training relationship, Sasha actually did like the crotchety old trainer. Which was not to say she always agreed with his approach.

"You know that no one trains with...these things," she complained as she waved at the Wing Chun Muk Jong (the proper name for the dummy).

"No one else has ever had a rematch with Becky Lynch before either, and they damn sure haven't had a rematch with her while she's being trained by Bobby Lashley," Meng countered.

"Becky Lynch on a bum knee and relapsing," Sasha shot back. She meant to be defiant with this, but it was hard to maintain that pose while Meng howled with laughter. Only the most patient and forbearing of people could find themselves the subject of gut-busting mirth without some show of annoyance. And Sasha was neither particularly patient or forbearing. "Care to share the joke?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Just that you really seem to believe that," Meng said, still in the last burst of mirth. He wiped at the corner of his eye before he added: "Go shower and change, you smell like shit. Then meet me in the film study room."

With that he walked away, still chuckling to himself. This left a decidedly miffed Sasha standing alone in front of the training dummy. She was working on a retort to shout after Meng when she took a cautious sniff of her arm. She grimaced and decided the old man was right about at least one thing.

Twenty minutes later, with her hair still damp, Sasha stepped into the film room to find Meng swearing at an open laptop. "Stupid fucking thing, why don't you just work!" he growled at it before letting fly with a barrage of expletives.

"Problems?" Sasha asked wryly.

"Not with film! Not with tapes! But you goddamn children and your computers," Meng grumbled. Sasha came to stand by him and then had to hold in a laugh. Without a word, she reached past the old man to plug a small device into one of the laptop's USB port.

"What the-...oh," Meng said, his mouse suddenly cooperating with him. He frowned then and said: "They said it was a wireless mouse!".

"Still need the read plugged in," Sasha said as she patted him condescendingly on the back before moving to sit down. When she was settled she added, "And by the way, FUCK you are old."

"Oh fuck off Banks," Meng muttered as he worked laboriously away on the laptop.

"So what are we doing?" Sasha asked.

"Right now we're waiting for Sane, she's been working Ron all morning," Meng responded distractedly. Ron Simmons was one of Meng's people, a specialist in boxing. If anything his training was even more brutal than Meng's. As if on cue, the door opened to admit a disgruntled and slightly battered looking Kairi Sane with her interpreter.

"Apologies for my tardiness," she said in her somewhat halting way. Sasha was learning that Kairi understood a great deal of English, even if the pronunciation continued to stymie her.

"Banks, get the lights," Meng interrupted without turning around. Sasha frowned at this offhand command but did as she was asked. When she regained her seat, Meng clicked something and a video began to play on the screen behind the trainer. It only took Sasha a few moments to recognize what she was seeing, it was the Becky Lynch-Tamina Snuka fight from over three years ago.

This was the fight that many considered as the one that truly announced Becky Lynch to the world. Tamina had been one of the most feared women in the MMA world, with a style that, in many ways, resembled Sasha's own. It was thrown around at the time that Tamina's strikes hit like her hands and feet were made of concrete. No one had given the brash newcomer from Ireland much chance at all. And they'd all been wrong.

Lynch had simply refused to play Snuka's game. Darting in and out landing quick precise blows when she could, but essentially forcing the bigger fighter to chase her for two rounds. Only in the third had she gone on the attack. An obviously winded Tamina had quickly found herself on the ground in a triangle, and she had tapped within seconds.

Sasha knew this all by heart, indeed most of the fight was seared into her memory. This was because in the run-up to her first fight with Lynch, she'd studied it and every other fight the Irish woman had ever had (both amateur and pro) with feverish intensity. Now, as she watched, she found that the fight was like an old song she'd heard over and over.

Meng didn't speak until the fight was over when he said: "Now, watch this one."

With that, he started a second video. This one showed Becky's more recent fight with Nikki Cross. This too, they all watched in silence. Sasha hadn't seen this one as many times as some of Lynch's other fights, but she'd made sure to study it closely nonetheless.

When the second fight ended, Meng stopped the video and turned to face Sasha and Kairi. "What did you see?" was all he asked.

Sasha exchanged a quick glance with Kairi before saying: "Two fights?"

"Gee, that was helpful Banks, maybe you should have been a detective," Meng answered sarcastically.

"Well if you want a specific answer, then you need to tell us," Sasha retorted.

"What DIFFERENCES did you see?" the old trainer snapped. Sasha blinked at this and was forcing her mind down this new direction when Kairi spoke up, speaking in Japanese to her interpreter.

"Kairi says that Becky Lynch is slower now," the interpreter announced. Sasha nodded slowly, she had to agree. Lynch didn't have her pre-injury speed.

"Good, what else?" Meng asked.

"She's vulnerable, she's so focused on protecting her knee that you can almost see it on the side of her head," Sasha added.

"True, but now tell me why she's even more dangerous than the first time you fought her?" Meng challenged. Sasha had no idea how to answer this question, Meng had, after all, just agreed to two observations that suggested Lynch wasn't as good as she had once been. Still, she racked her brain, knowing that Meng would expect SOME kind of answer from her and would wait as long as he had to for it.

"I got nothing," she was finally forced to admit. Meng sighed, though in a resigned way that made Sasha think he hadn't really expected her to get this correct.

"Lynch is slower, and she IS protecting her knee. But what you're both missing is what those factors have done to her overall game. Really think about it!" he urged.

Kairi had a quick consultation with her interpreter who then asked: "Kairi wonders if you could clarify your question, Mr. Meng."

Meng rolled his eyes and opened the Nikki Cross video again. He moved the video forward to the final few exchanges of the fight and played them again. He then turned back to his fighters but when neither woman appeared to have had any epiphanies he showed it again.

"God damn it, I am NOT going to spell this out to you. Especially not to you Banks!" Meng stormed. And as if these words themselves were magic, the pieces clunked into place in Sasha's mind.

"She's smarter," Sasha said, quietly but with absolute conviction. In response, Meng flashed her one of his rare genuine smiles.

"Your goddamn right she is. More importantly, she's working with the best trainer there is. Dave and his boys are fine over at CCS but Lashley will not only have Lynch working harder but working smarter," Meng said. As someone who had been under Bobby's tutelage, Sasha couldn't help but agree. Her former trainer worked you as hard as anyone, but he believed that teaching someone how to punch wasn't enough. The when, where, and why were equally important.

Kairi had a hushed conversation with her interpreter before she said: "Perhaps...Becky Lynch, is working harder...because she is slower and-" Here she trailed off as she had another whispered conversation and her interpreter finished for her: "...Perhaps Becky Lynch is smarter and working harder because she knows she is slower and protective of her leg?"

Meng pounded the tabled with his palm as she beamed at the tiny Japanese woman. "YES! YES! By Christ, we'll make a champion of you yet Sane!" He then turned to Sasha and said: "And YOU realize what this means right?"

"She's..going to be tougher and smarter because working harder to prepare now. She's not able to coast on talent anymore so she has to work harder before the fight. And she won't be looking past me like last time."

Meng held his hands wide and looked up as though he were exalting the sky. "By God, she CAN be taught."

"Fuck you ya old bastard," Sasha said sourly, though with a small grin on her face.

Meng just boomed out a laugh as she said: "Now, do you see why I'm having you do all these new things? Lynch probably spent less than an hour actually studying you last time, because she didn't think you'd be a challenge. She won't make that mistake again and let's face it, your last two fights have been horseshit."

Sasha scowled but couldn't actually disagree with the statement.

"She'll have more knowledge of you then she'd ever need, given whose training her. So we NEED to add some wrinkles to your game," Meng explained. Sasha nodded, this made a lot of sense. She was about to say something else but then the door to the room opened to reveal an agitated looking Teddy standing there.

"I'm-" Meng started to say but Teddy cut him off with a sharp look. That was Sasha's first warning that something was seriously wrong, Teddy was usually gentlemanly amiability.

"Sasha, come with me, now. We have a situation," was all her manager said. Sasha exchanged a quick look with Kair and then Meng before she stood and walked nervously after him.

Bayley/Charlotte

From what Bayley could tell through the blinds of her windows, it was another lovely day in California. She hadn't actually left her house for nearly a week, so she couldn't be sure. The simple act of walking from her bed to the bathroom or living room was enough to sap her of her strength lately. Today had been no different, she was sitting on her couch in stained sweats and matching sweatshirt watching an episode of "The Bachelorette: Clex edition." The mindless reality program was just the kind of thing that she needed to help drown out the harsh voices in her own head.

Feeling a thirst, Bayley looked down at her coffee table and the forest of cans and wrappers there. She experimentally picked up and shook several of the cans until she found one with liquid in it. Though she had no idea how old it might be, she simply drained it before tossing it aside. Deciding it wasn't nearly enough, Bayley lurched to her feet. She moved to her fridge, but she frowned when she opened it.

Hadn't she just had a 24 pack of diet Pepsi delivered yesterday? Or was it the day before? Or several days ago. Regardless it was unacceptable that she was almost out already. It was a bigger shame in that she'd already ordered "A Hunter" from a local BBQ joint. She'd have to send out for someone else to go get her more Pepsi.

She was just making her way back to her couch, contemplating losing the entire day on her PS4, when there was a knock on her door. Ordinarily, she would never have dreamed of answering the door in her current state, but today she didn't much care. Plodding over to it, she pulled it open without unchaining it to look out through the crack. As she did her eyes widened involuntarily.

"You're not my food," she said.

Charlotte had enough of waiting for Bayley to finally pick up one of her phone calls or return a text.

She had been in California for a few hours and though she was scheduled to see Toni storm tonight she had made sure to keep her day open. The worry for her friend only gathering more steam with each ignored outreach.

That simply wasn't the Bayley she knew. And that scared the hell out of her.

She walked up the steps to a cozy little apartment building. Pulling out her phone and checking the address she had weaseled out of Bayley's boss at ESPN. He had been hesitant at first to give out the info, but once she explained who she was he immediately perked up. Apparently, he had been worrying about the reporter as well. Evidently, she had been avoiding him as well as Charlotte.

Even all her social media accounts had been mysteriously frozen in time. Each one suddenly dropping off the face of the earth after posting an update that dated prior to the first Banks-Lynch press conference in London. Or as some had called it, 'The single most awkwardly polite and disappointing pressers in recent memory'.

She knocked on the door and waited patiently. Dressed in far more casual attire than normal with none of her usual effort. Just a simple pair of blue jeans and a pale blue shirt sans any makeup.

She wanted to come here as just Charlotte. Not Charlotte the gym owner, or Charlotte the manager of Becky Lynch.

Just Bayley's friend.

When the door was answered Charlotte almost wanted to cry right then and there but held it in. Bayley looked like a shadow of her normal self. It pained the blonde to see her in such disarray.

"Damn right I'm not." She replied to Bayley's greeting. "You wouldn't answer any of my calls so I decided to come in person. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you right now but I'm not leaving anytime soon. Can I come in?"

Bayley closed her eyes, she didn't have the energy for this. And though she would ordinarily never say this to a friend, much less Charlotte (who could still intimidate her) she said: "I'm really tired Charlotte, can we do this another time" As she said this tried to close the door only to find it held firm.

Charlotte held steady and met Bayley's eyes. Her wording deliberate. "No. We're doing this now. I'm not going to let you push me away… You didn't let me." She held the brunette's gaze for a few seconds and added. "Please."

Bayley tried once more to shut the door, but her general lethargy plus the fact that Charlotte would have been more powerful than her on her best day made this impossible. She sagged in defeat, she didn't even have the energy to argue. "Fine…" she muttered before nodding at the chain "...move your hand."

For a second Charlotte contemplated not moving her hand. Worried that Bayley would use the moment to just shut and lock the door on her. Before she relented she said, "If you try to lock this on me I will break it down. Just so you know. I'd pay for the damage of course."

Bayley saw in Charlotte's eyes that only the top 1% of this statement was meant as a joke. Nodding, she closed the door, waiting a moment and then unchained it and unlocked it. The second she had she walked slowly over to her couch and fell face down on it, not even caring about the state of her apartment.

Charlotte walked inside and immediately scanned the apartment and its state of decay. She frowned deeply and sighed. Walking further inside to hover over the couch. Her hands idle at her side. Unsure of what to do just as she herself was. "I always knew you were a bit of a slob but this is a little ridiculous."

"Is that why you came? To criticize me?" Bayley asked, not really caring about the answer. Right now all she wanted was for Charlotte to go away.

So that's how this was going to be. Charlotte was nothing if not stubborn and dealing with Becky helped her brush off the words. She wasn't speaking to Bayley right now. "I came to see my friend. My friend who has been avoiding me for almost a week now."

Charlotte walked around the couch so that Bayley had no excuse to not acknowledge her.

"I'm worried about you Bay. Talk to me." The sight of the woman who was normally so full of life so still and morose terrified Charlotte. "A.J. said you haven't been coming in to work and I checked your site. What's wrong?"

Unbidden, a sudden spark of anger appeared in Bayley's gut. This was something else she'd realized over the last few days. No one EVER seemed to be looking out for her. Charlotte herself had been the woman who had sent her to talk to Becky just after Sasha had delivered her 'wedding invitation'. The blonde wasn't stupid, she had to know what was going on, but she'd done it anyway.

"YOU are worried, well let me drop everything to reassure you. That's all I do right? You, Becky, Sasha you kick me and then I come back and apologize for being kicked. Charlotte's problems, Charlotte's worries, that's all that matters right? And how do you even know where HERE is?" Bayley said finally looking up. She was doing her best to channel nothing but anger but she couldn't keep a slight hitch from her voice. And this just made her more frustrated.

Charlotte felt like crying but this wasn't about her right now. "I didn't come all the way to LA for me. I came here for you. I came here for one of my best friends in the world. Bayley, I came here for you." She cursed herself as a few tears leaked out, swiftly wiping them away. "Seeing you right now… I know I'm right where I should be. I called your boss. Even he was worried about you. You haven't been going in to work and he told me you turned down an opportunity to cover the press conference in Boston. I'm not here to blame you or try and clear my own conscience. All I want is to know you're safe and I'm not leaving till you show me that the Bayley I know is still in there."

Charlotte finished her speech and walked towards the kitchen. Furiously rummaging through the cupboards until she found a box of trash bags. Pulling one out and beginning to move around the pigsty that was Bayley's apartment. Throwing away the cartons of old food and empty cans of diet Pepsi without saying anything.

Bayley fumed for a moment. Was she really that invisible? Would no one EVER listen to her? She was trying to think of something truly crushing that might get Charlotte angry at her but while she did she said: "You never told me how you knew where I live."

"Does it matter? I'm here now and you're not getting rid of me." Charlotte quipped while throwing away a particularly old and stale bag of half-eaten sabor de soledad chips. Wrinkling her nose at the smell that wafted out of it. "How the hell do you eat these things? I'm going to introduce you to Sunchips. At least those are healthier than this garbage."

" Oh, jódete," Bayley muttered, all the fight going out of her as she forced herself to sit up and look around. Somehow she hadn't noticed until Charlotte got here, but it was looking awful. But that didn't mean she was ready to concede defeat "Look, can you just go? You can tell yourself you checked on me now, hooray you're a good person and you can sleep at night. I just...I-" She trailed off as she had to fight back a sob and buried her head in her hands.

Charlotte didn't know if Bayley wanted her to say anything about it. She gave the woman a bit of space and time to pull herself back together. This still wasn't the real Bayley speaking so she tried not to take her words too seriously.

She continued to throw random trash into the bag before moving to the epicenter of the garbage. Clearing off what used to be a coffee table in front of Bayley's couch that was now a veritable dumpster.

After a few seconds of throwing things away, Charlotte's hand froze in mid-air and her heart began to pound uncontrollably in her chest. She was prepared for a depressed Bayley but this was enough to make her want to throw up. "Bayley… What is this out here for?" Reaching down and picking up a standard razor one could find in any general store.

Bayley didn't look up, her face still buried in her hands. "Just go away," she said, though it wasn't a command now. It was a plea.

Charlotte wanted to scream. This wasn't something she could just walk away from and ever look herself in the mirror again. "Jesus Christ Bayley. Please talk to me. I'm not asking anymore, but I'm not leaving until you do. If you think I could just leave you like this than you don't know me at all."

Charlotte threw the razor down on the edge of the couch like it was on fire and knelt down. Reaching out with her hand and gently letting it rest on Bayley's knee. Careful not to startle the other woman. The only thing on her mind was making whoever made Bayley feel this way pay. But that could come later. RIght now her friend desperately needed her even if she couldn't admit it yet.

"Take all the time in the world. I'll still be here. I'm not going anywhere."

Bayley looked over at the small sound and froze. She saw the sunlight glinting off the razor, more than that she was transfixed. She stared for a long time, sensing Charlotte's eyes on her. Eventually, a few tears fell and, in an entirely broken voice, she said: "I haven't done it...not yet. I used to when I was a teenager but...I…" She stopped here and trailed off.

Charlotte couldn't stand seeing Bayley like this and slowly wrapped her up in a hug. Thanking whatever god had allowed her to arrive before Bayley had made a choice she couldn't come back from. "It's alright." Nothing was alright. "It's alright. You're so goddamn strong. Stronger than you realize Bayley." Charlotte simply held onto the other woman as she sobbed. She didn't say anything more. She could call Toni and reschedule if she needed. Even her flight could be changed. But she had to be here now. She had to be here till she saw the Bayley she knew. Not the depression that was currently influencing her actions.

Bayley's mind was back in what had once been her darkest days. The days when she, a skinny teenager, had been mercilessly bullied by the other girls at her school. She'd cut herself back then to try and distract herself from problems she didn't feel she could share with anyone. And now, in Charlotte's arms, she was aware of how far she'd fallen that she was considering it again. She cried for a while longer before she finally managed to speak.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered.

People always say talking helps." Charlotte offered. Not wanting to push the reporter when she was in such a fragile state. "If it makes you feel any better I don't know what I'm doing 24/7." It wasn't much of a joke but she wanted Bayley to know that there was still some light even in the darkest of times.

Without a word, Bayley disengaged from Charlotte and picked up her phone. Opening her voicemail, she handed it Charlotte and then fell sideways onto her couch. As she did she covered her ears.

Charlotte held the phone like it was a bomb. Obviously whatever was on here was what sent Bayley into her current state and that knowledge made her wary of the voicemails content. She stared at the name that shone from the screen. 'Becky Lynch'

Even before she pressed play Charlotte was scared to listen but knew she had to.

Nearly two minutes later and the blonde was vibrating with rage. She had half a mind to throw the phone against the wall but that wasn't her decision to make. Alexa had told her about finding Becky hungover with those whores and Charlotte had been upset but understanding. She had known there was a high chance that Becky would relapse again but this was something else entirely.

"I'm going to kill that bitch." She muttered before putting the phone down and gently taking Bayley's hands in her own. Pulling them off of her ears and wrapping her own around Bayley's cold fingers. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that. I know how hard that must have been to share with me. Goddamnit Bayley, I'm so fucking sorry. She had no right to say those things."

Bayley let her hands be moved away from her ears as she found herself where she'd spent most of the last week. Laying on her couch, staring blankly. Without being fully aware of what she said she asked: "What if she's right?"

"She's not. Not one word she said. I'm not giving her a pass on this but she was hurting and said whatever she could that would make someone feel as bad as she was. You are the kindest, most caring friend anyone could ever ask for. Becky is a thoughtless asshole that doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you." Charlotte was so angry that she was having a hard time thinking straight. Nearly blinded by the rage she felt towards her fighter. But she had to be strong for Bayley right now. Becky's time would come.

Bayley sniffed as she managed to sit up. She looked around in a daze, almost as if she were just seeing her apartment for the first time. "I...I'm sorry for the mess," was all she could say, a small almost manic giggle escaping her lips. Why not, she thought. There were so many emotions warring inside her right now, why not laugh?

"I could care less about the mess." Charlotte threw out. The state of her apartment was just a symptom of the real problem. "I just want you to be alright. And I know that you aren't magically going to be ok. You shouldn't be. What she said was cruel and you didn't deserve one second of her bullshit."

Bayley was silent for a second and Charlotte looked around the apartment one more time.

Charlotte got up from her kneeling position and clapped her hands. "Alright. We're going out for some food. My treat. And I won't hear anything to the contrary. When a Flair speaks you damn well better listen. Up and at 'em Ms. Reporter Woman. Looks like the fresh air will do you some good."

Bayley looked down at herself and asked: "Can I change first?"

Half an hour later Charlotte and a much more together looking Bayley were sitting in on the hood of Charlotte's rental outside of a Clex's. Despite Bayley's almost exclusively fast food and delivery diet in recent days, she hadn't actually eaten Clex's in a very long time. But now she was remembering how much she liked it, and there was the small fact that the 'Boss Bowl' was no longer on the menu.

"See? I told you," she said around a mouthful of rice.

Charlotte scarfed down the delicious food and tried to swallow before speaking. "Alright. I cave. I will always listen to you when it comes to food. I've learned my lesson."

The small smile on Bayley's face, maybe her first in a week, felt very good. But it faded quickly as she remembered Becky and her voicemail. Cautiously, without looking over at Charlotte she asked: "So what are you going to do?" Knowing that the other woman would catch her meaning.

The mood quickly changed and Charlotte tried to think of an answer that wouldn't ruin the progress she and Bayley had made. "I'm not entirely sure. Part of me doesn't want to ever see her again, but I know that this has to be dealt with. I don't care if she was drunk or high or if a ghost possessed her. She was way out of line." Charlotte took another small bite from her bowl and chewed over her next words. "I'll take suggestions. What do you want me to do?"

She didn't want to put the burden at Bayley's feet but thought that she deserved her own input given she was the target of Becky's ire.

Bayley sighed as she set her food to one side, no longer hungry. "I don't know, I wish I could ask her why, but I know I won't get an answer. I don't think Becky would know. I just...want the people around me to stop crashing, and crashing into me."

Charlotte didn't know what to say. She didn't want to give false hope or empty platitudes. She wiped one of her hands with a napkin and reached out to grab one of Bayley's now free hands. "I can't promise you anything. But I know that you are strong enough to get through this. I wish I could take away the pain or tell you it gets better. But it won't. It will always be there. If there was anyone in the world who I'd trust to make it through the mile of shit you're wading through it would be you. And I'll be with you as much as I can. Maybe one day she will realize that she made the biggest mistake in her life and come crawling back. When that happens it's up to you to decide if it's worth it to let her back in." Charlotte knew they were speaking about Becky but the specter of Sasha was always there too and the words worked for either woman. "Your happiness and health need to come first though."

"Are we talking about me and Becky, me and Sasha, or you and Becky?" Bayley asked.

Charlotte swallowed at Bayley's perceptiveness. "Can I just say all of the above?"

Bayley sighed and put an arm around Charlotte's shoulder. "Maybe they'll both come around," she said as she gave her friend a squeeze. She was quiet for a moment before she added: " Gracias, te pegaste chica blanca."

"You never have to thank me. You've done far more for me than I can ever repay… Not that I'm counting." Charlotte added. Indulging in the feeling of her friend's arm around her. It was a small sign, but it was a sign that the real Bayley was coming back out.

Charlotte/Becky

"Faster! I bet Sasha's not half-assing it like this. You want to lose again?"

Becky responded to Bobby's words by driving even harder. The weighted sled she pushed across the room moved just a bit faster. Legs burning from the intense training session. Her mind held together by the hope that she was nearly done. She wouldn't give up though. Even if it meant she wouldn't be able to move when Lashley finally told her to stop.

"And… TIME! Go cool down. We're done for the day."

Becky flopped down to the ground in a pool of her own sweat. Sucking in deep breaths to try and slow her heart rate. Between New York, the trip to London and back she hadn't had a real workout in five days and was feeling the effects of the layoff.

She slowly got back to her feet and let herself walk around the gym to keep her leg muscles from locking up on her. Going through her cooldown period and grabbing a towel to wipe her face. Looking over at Bobby who had been cleaning up all the stations he had set up for the last of today's workouts.

Liv passed by and Becky called out, "Hey Liv. Is Charlotte back from LA yet? I haven't seen her come in."

The tiny woman replied. "She got in about an hour ago. Locked herself up in her office."

"Thanks."

Becky began to wander towards the blonde's office, absentmindedly sipping from a water bottle. She didn't want to really admit it but she had actually missed seeing the other woman. Actually starting to feel a bit closer to Charlotte since the blonde had apologized. It didn't take away how much some of her words still stuck to her like a painful brand, but it helped.

She politely knocked on the door but impolitely entered before getting a reply. " Hola Charlie. How was LA? Make any new friends?"

Becky had been in a teasing mood but the glare Charlotte sent her had her backtracking. Maybe this wasn't the moment to prod the bear. As much fun as it was, she preferred when the blonde would verbally spar back and she didn't seem in the mood for that.

Charlotte stood up and walked around her desk. "Close the door."

"Umm alright." Becky turned to gently close the door and turned back only to be hit in the face so hard that she stumbled back into the door. The frosted glass rattling as Becky tried to get her bearings back after the punch she hadn't seen coming.

"You stupid, careless mother fucker."

Becky leaned back against the door. One of her hands coming up to touch her rapidly swelling left eye. She could already tell the end result would be one impressive looking black eye. "Damn. What the hell was that Charlotte?"

Charlotte had wanted some more time before this confrontation but like always Becky loved to push things. The redhead's dismissive response only making it worse. Becky moved to push herself off the door but the blonde shoved her back. "You're lucky I haven't fired your ass already. I could care less about the money right now."

The anger that was always just under the surface started to rise. "I know. I fucked up again in New York. My bad. But if you hit me one more time I'm gonna start swinging back."

"YOU THINK!" Charlotte was incensed. How the hell did Becky get off acting so blase when Bayley had been so low. All she wanted right now was for the redhead to feel some fraction of the pain she had dealt to the woman she had claimed to like. She went for another punch but the fighter saw it a mile away this time and ducked underneath.

Becky was just able to keep a lid on her anger and only pushed the other woman away. She easily could have landed a punch of her own but held back. "You're going to regret this."

"No. I really won't." Charlotte angrily replied before surprising the Irish woman and lashing out with a kick to the inside of Becky's surgically repaired knee. The shock of the blow sending the redhead down to the ground and her butt. One hand reaching down to hold her knee as it throbbed in fresh pain.

"Jesus fucking Christ Charlie! What the hell is your problem?"

"YOU! You just can't fall without dragging someone down with you. Can you?"

Becky was confused. "Listen. I know I fucked up. I shouldn't have gone out and drank with Kelly and her friends. It was a stupid decision. I'm sorry if you're jealous-"

"JEALOUS!? You think I'm jealous of some skank's who walk around the ring in barely anything holding a sign? I can barely look at you right now. How the hell can you even act so normal after what you've said?" Charlotte spat out with clenched fists as she stood over the fallen redhead.

If Becky was confused before she was utterly bewildered now. "What? Are you going to get on me about the press conference now? Shane already beat you to it."

"This isn't about the stupid conference. You're fucking message to Bayley is what I'm pissed about." Charlotte was so close to beating the uncaring look off Becky's face. "She wouldn't fall in line with what you wanted so you call her out of spite. I can't even think straight right now I'm so disappointed in you. Just when I thought… No." She took a deep breath to try and find a semblance of calm in the storm. "I just don't get you Becky. Why? Why her?"

Rapidly paling lips held a barely perceptible tremble. "I talked to Bayley?" The pieces began to slowly form a frame of what had happened.

"No. You destroyed her." Charlotte answered succinctly. "Congratulations Becky. You did it. Do you feel better knowing that you got what you wanted?" She had to swallow hard and fight back from sobbing. The memory of Bayley all alone in a messy apartment was going to stick with her for a long time.

"That's not… I don't know." Becky took her time getting back to her feet. Careful to keep her weight off the knee. She was tempted to not ask but she needed to know. "What did I say?"

"You can't be serious?" Charlotte stated doubtfully. Her eyes searching the brown eyes across from her and finding the truth. "Are you kidding me? You really don't remember." The revelation did nothing to quell the rage. In some ways, it made it harder to contain, while a much quieter part of her felt a sliver of sympathy.

"Just tell me. Please." Becky wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she knew she needed to. The border of the puzzle was finished but she needed to see what the full picture was.

The tall blonde turned her back on Becky and walked back to lean against her desk. She couldn't be close to the redhead without wanting to shake her. "You said she was worthless. She didn't deserve your time. And that's the more PG comments." Charlotte swore loudly and banged a fist into her desk hard enough to shake everything on it. "She hadn't left her apartment in a week when I got there. Even her boss was worried about her."

The urge to throw up grew. Becky felt sick. They hadn't spoken much about it but Becky knew that Bayley had been bullied when she was younger. She had seen first hand how Mandy had attacked her whenever she had a chance.

Apparently, Becky wasn't any better than those assholes.

Maybe she really was a masochist, "I need to know what I said Charlotte. Please. I'm not above begging right now."

Charlotte didn't know if she gave in out of pity or some desire to see Becky understand the depths she had sunk to. Drunk or not it didn't preclude her from the consequences.

She sighed and reached down to her phone. Pulling up the audio file she had copied from Bayley's phone while the woman had been changing for their outing to Clex's. She knew Bayley wouldn't ever use the voicemail against Becky even after how she acted but Charlotte had been so angry that she had actually contemplated it.

"If that's what you want," Charlotte said before pressing the play button. Her rage burning bright once again as the message played. Becky's drunk slurring voice filling the office as the present Becky listened on in horrified disgust. She watched the slow realization of just how low she had hit Bayley dawn on the redhead's face.

The message ended and a heavy silence fell over the office. Becky nodded and stared into the corner of the room. Her lower jaw grinding left and right even though her lips never parted. The soaked black tank top she had been wearing felt suffocating now. "Well… That uh explains why she didn't answer… Huh… That sucks."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the oddly underwhelming reaction. It was hard to read Becky's reaction. It almost seemed like resignation.

"Thanks for umm being honest with me Charlotte." Becky hadn't blinked. Staring at anything but the blonde. It was odd how she felt after hearing herself viciously tear apart Bayley. It was odd in that she felt nothing. Maybe it was just a delayed reaction and she was just shocked.

She knew it was her. She recognized the voice. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together. She had been selfish to allow Bayley to be her friend. For a brief moment, she wished that she hadn't listened to Bayley that first time outside the bar. She should have just gone inside. At least the reporter would have been spared the false hope that there was a good person beneath it all.

Charlotte had to get away before she said something she'd truly regret. Maybe tomorrow she could try and give Becky the help she obviously needed but she simply couldn't right now.

The way Becky had responded still bothered her and Charlotte wanted to make sure the Irish fighter knew how deeply she had fucked up.

She walked towards the door and Becky reflexively stepped out of the way. Her hand wrapped around the handle but she stopped short of actually opening it. "You want honesty… When I got to Bayley's apartment… Becky. She had a fucking razor out… Jesus. I got there before she did anything… You wanted honesty."

Becky gulped but still wouldn't look at Charlotte. Her head nodding almost imperceptibly, although it may have just been from the tremors she saw in the tense muscles on display. "I did." Voice unnaturally hoarse and gritty. Like she was speaking through a sandpaper microphone.

"We'll talk more tomorrow Becky. But I can't pretend this didn't happen." Charlotte clenched her teeth and exhaled deep through her nose. "Don't call her again. She won't answer. Send a text trying to explain yourself if you must but only one. Give her the time she needs. She'll get back to you if she feels like it eventually."

Becky nodded clearly. The shaking of her shoulders only getting worse as she tried to hold back until Charlotte left the room.

"You shouldn't go out tonight," Charlotte said before finally opening the door and stepping outside.

Only when the office door closed did Becky allow herself to feel.

Charlotte listened from just beyond the door as guttural sobs seemed to be pulled out of Becky's mouth against her will. Some outside force reaching down her throat to yank the sound from her vocal cords.

She felt rooted to the spot as the noises cut through her to the core but only had to think back to the vile words Becky had spouted and her feet began to move her away from the office.

The sounds slowly fading as she moved downstairs and further away from Becky.

"Hey, Liv," Charlotte called out to the shorter woman.

"Charlotte! What's up?" Liv's bright cheery smile so opposite of Charlotte's current mood.

"Can you send me a text when Becky leaves?"

Liv's cheer turned to confusion but she knew that Charlotte wouldn't ask without a purpose. "Uh yeah. I can do that."

"Thanks, Liv." Charlotte reached into her wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. "Take yourself and Ruby out for a nice dinner." Politely brushing away the blonde's thanks and walking outside to her car and driving back to her apartment. She wanted to get a bit of rest with the press conference tomorrow. She also had a feeling she'd be going out sometime late tonight.

Becky

The phone rang for just a second before she was sent to voicemail. Becky expected it. She couldn't begrudge Bayley not wanting to speak to her. Charlotte hadn't spoken to her since their scuffle. Even Liv, Ruby and Alexa were acting odd around her. They might not know exactly what happened, but they clearly knew something was wrong.

"Hey… I just wanted to-" Becky shook her head and deleted the message. Head falling into her hands.

How the hell do you apologize for what she did?

Becky hadn't begun to forgive herself. She didn't know if that would ever be possible.

She couldn't bring herself to try calling again. She didn't deserve it. Bayley didn't deserve her shit.

What kind of monster said those things to someone they claimed to care about?

What did it make her? To drive someone so far that they thought about hurting themselves?

Did monster even cover it?

No. She was something worse altogether. She was a vampire to all those around her. Sucking away at their own happiness as they were forced to compensate for her innate selfishness.

Every time she tried to be better it ended in failure. What was the point of even trying?

Becky took a shaky breath as she fought the sobs that shook her body. Why was she crying? She had no right. It wasn't her that was the victim. She was the evil one here. The cause of Bayley's pain and that knowledge was ripping at her insides.

She wished she could deny ever saying those things but Bayley would never lie about something like this to Charlotte. Not remembering the call didn't make it better in her mind. If anything it made it worse.

Alcohol didn't make her suddenly feel or say those horrific things. That was all Becky. That ugliness was undeniably inside of her just waiting to be unleashed on those that deserved it the least.

All it took was one bad day. Just a few comments and Finlay telling her a truth she didn't want to hear..

It disgusted her. Becky Lynch disgusted Rebecca Quin.

What else was there for her? She wasn't forgivable. Was she?

Are some things too horrific, too ugly to atone for?

Did she even want atonement?

Redemption isn't a finish line to cross and all is magically forgiven. Redemption was never-ending. Something you had to work at every day. And Rebecca was tired. The only end to redemption was death. Final and absolute.

When she looked in the mirror she didn't recognize Rebecca Quin. All she saw was Becky Lynch. The woman she let herself become.

Sasha's old words floated back to haunt her.

"Bayley always sees the best in everyone, that's her gift...even the people who don't deserve it… Bayley will always try to help people she thinks need it. Even if they try to tell her to go away."

Becky knew she didn't deserve Bayley's help anymore. There wasn't anything good in her for Bayley to see. Anything about her that seemed decent was a mirage and Bayley finally got close enough to see that.

If even Bayley didn't see anything worth saving in her than what was the point of trying to pretend there was.

Charlotte didn't want to deal with her. Not that Becky could blame her. If she hadn't been in line for such a big payday, surely the blonde would prefer to have nothing to do with her.

All she was good for was making a spectacle of herself.

She wanted to grieve for the innocence she had stolen. Bayley was bleeding on the floor and all she could do was close the door. Close the door on the firestorm of grief that threatened to make her look at herself and ask if she was worth it.

She wasn't.

Becky threw on a zip-up hoodie and rushed out the door of her apartment. Throwing the hood over her head to hide her easily recognizable hair from the world.

She had a press conference in less than twelve hours. That gave her plenty of time to drink so much that she could forget what a horrible person she was.

Anger had made her feel powerful. But vice could help her feel nothing.

Nothing was what she deserved.

Nothing was what she needed.

Nothing was all she had left.

It's all nothing.

(The only way out of grief, is through it)

Sasha

The universe and whatever god or gods within it were really making Sasha pay for her resolution to be 'better'.

It had been several days since Teddy had shown her the early clips of Zelina's exclusive sit down with TMZ. And now that the full thing had aired, Sasha found that she didn't want to be better.

She wanted to go find that stupid little slut and strangle her with her own weave.

One quote, in particular, was stuck in her craw. Zelina, looking oh so earnest, had said: "I fell in love with the Sasha Banks I thought I knew, but I guess she was only that person when she wanted something from me. When...she wanted my body. Now I'm left with a broken heart and she gets to just continue on her with her life."

This might have been the most striking cases of 'pot and kettle' in the 21st century. Sasha had 'met' Zelina when the woman had started rubbing her ass against Sasha's hips in a club. Zelina had been the one constantly demanding that Sasha include her in everything. Admittedly, Sasha had been happy to allow this so long as Zelina had been compliant with her demands. But it was hard for Sasha to see Zelina as a victim.

The rest of the world didn't seem to have this same problem.

Teddy had tasked some of his people with measuring social media reaction to the interview, it had been overwhelmingly bad for her. This combined with the fallout from the London presser had left her reputation near an all-time low. It seemed people didn't want a better and more human Sasha Banks. They just wanted the boss, but apparently, a boss that only treated Zelina Vega like a princess.

If this was how being a better person felt, Sasha honestly didn't know how Bayley managed to live her whole life as one.

"So what does this mean?" Sasha asked.

"It means that you're in danger of losing more sponsors, if not all of them. This came out of nowhere, so we didn't get a chance to get out in front of it. Now we need to go into full damage control mode. I tried to contact Alexa Bliss to bring her in but she's apparently working with another client indefinitely," Teddy Long answered.

"She's working with Charlotte Flair," Sasha said dully.

"Whatever the case, I'm looking into other firms. Maybe Cade and Murdoch. But we need to get your side of the story out in front of people.

Sasha nodded automatically but didn't answer. What Teddy was saying made sense in general, but she wasn't sure how useful it would be in this particular case. Sasha's side of the story wasn't much better than what Zelina was putting out there. What was she supposed to say? She'd only ever used Zelina as a distraction and had only proposed to her as part of a temper tantrum directed at the woman she actually loved?

You didn't rise to Sasha's level of fame without developing an instinct for PR matters. Sasha knew that your everyday sit-down interview wouldn't do her much good now. There was really only one person she would have trusted to do it right, but that person was Bayley. She'd have to think of something else.

"What if-" she said suddenly, cutting off whatever Teddy had been saying.

"What is it playa?" he asked, sounding like he was eager for any kind of lifeline.

"I have an idea...it might work," Sasha said thoughtfully. She was thinking of the rambling mess of a video message she'd recorded for Bayley. A message she hadn't yet sent and wasn't sure if she ever would.

"Well? Are you going to tell me?" Teddy asked impatiently.

Sasha told him.

That had been just an hour ago, and now here she was sitting on one of the couches in her living room. As with when she'd recorded her message to Bayley she found that it was very hard to actually begin. But she made herself take a few deep breaths before looking into the camera that she'd position on her coffee table.

"My name is Sasha Mercedes Banks, you probably know that. Some of you may know me better as 'the boss'...and some of you may prefer the boss to me. I don't begrudge you that, I created that monster and now she's mine to deal with. But I'm here now to talk to you as just me, Sasha Banks, a girl from Boston who never thought she'd have her own house period, never mind a place like this where I can talk to you. I'm not going to pretend like you don't know why I'm here. The recent interview given to TMZ by my former fiance, Zelina Vega. "

Sasha sighed here as she closed her eyes for a second. Without opening them she went on saying: "First, and above all else. I want to say…Zelina...I am sorry. Not for the things, you accused me of in your interview, only you know why you said those things we both know are untrue. But I'm sorry for things I DID do, and I want to be perfectly open about them now…"

It took Sasha less than ten minutes to finish her message and only one try. Once she'd started talking she found that words came easy, pouring out of her in a steady stream. When she'd finished she sent the video directly to her phone and then to Teddy. Her manager had prevailed on her not to release it immediately, but to let him consult with a PR expert first. Sasha had said she would but had also decided that if Teddy dragged his feet too long she'd release it on her own.

This done, and seized by a sudden motivation, Sasha opened her laptop and opened her email. Her finger shook slightly as she located the once familiar contact: me . Forcing herself to select it before her resolve faltered, Sasha attached her video message to the email and, without giving it a subject, she sent it.

Now all she could do is wait.

Charlotte/Becky

Charlotte wasn't at all surprised when she had gotten a call to come pick up a drunk Becky Lynch from some random bar in downtown Boston. Liv had texted her when the redhead left the gym and Charlotte had mentally prepared herself for whatever might come. She had actually been planning on going to the fighter's apartment to check in on her but the call had came in first.

The bartender she had spoken to had apparently managed to coax her number from the belligerent woman. How he had done that with a drunk Becky Lynch was a mystery but .

It had been hard for her to even look at Becky after seeing Bayley and the aftermath of the redhead's words. She had been trying to help the Irish woman through whatever issues she had been having but had nearly given up right then. The only thing that held her back was the gut wrenching genuine sorrow and regret she had heard through her office door.

The regret and horror she had seen and heard made Charlotte's fury dampen ever so slightly. At the time she hadn't cared much that Becky felt bad about it, but the show of humanity had held her hand and stopped her from terminating Becky's contract right then and there.

She found a space to park and ran inside before the night chill had a chance to sink in.

The bar was nearly empty. One in the morning on a Wednesday meant that only a few drunks remained.

"You must be Charlotte."

The woman in question turned her eyes towards the man behind the bar. An older man with his heavily graying hair slicked back like some sort of 80's movie villain. A wood toothpick dangling out from his lips. The cuban accent and bright colored button up finishing the image.

"That'd be me. What can I call you?"

"Scott is just fine with me." He gave her a sad smile and tilted his head towards the end of the bar. "Your girl's down there."

Charlotte looked down the bar and saw Becky slumped against the bartop. Head lying down on the wood as she spun an empty shot glass. "She's not my girl."

"Didn't mean nothing by it ma'am. Just thought she might be given what she was saying."

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked. Curious as to why he would assume that. Last time she had spoken to Becky the redhead had been holding an ice pack to a black eye Charlotte had given her.

"She didn't say much. I asked her who I could call to pick her up and she started going on and on about how she wasn't even sure you'd come. Said you both had gotten into a fight over another girl and how neither of you'd pick up."

"I was honestly considering leaving her here."

"What stopped you?" Scott asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I'll let you know if I figure it out." Charlotte replied. Already walking down the bar towards the drunk redhead and calling over her shoulder. "Thanks for the call."

"Don't mention it."

Charlotte tried to be casual as she walked towards Becky. She just couldn't stop her heart from beating faster. A rush of anger on Bayley's behalf surging as she got closer. Not as strong as before but still there.

"Get up Becky. You're going back home."

Becky picked her head up off the bar and gave the blonde a wide but obviously fake smile. "Charlie! How da fuck ya doin'? You wanna drink? HEY SCOTTY! Beam me 'nother drink." Laughing at her own reference.

Charlotte took a deep breath. "Becky. We're leaving. Now!"

"Ugh! You're such a bore Charlie. Live a lil."

"This isn't living. This is avoiding."

Becky waved a hand in dismissal. Pushing away from the bar and standing unsteadily. "Yer no fun at all. Mus' be years since anyone's given you a proper fuck eh? Gotta be tighter than a nun's ass."

Charlotte closed her eyes for a second and reminded herself to not react. That would undoubtedly just make this all worse. "Come on. Let's get you back in your own bed. You've got to be ready for tomorrow's press conference."

"Ahh. Me own bed. Sure you don't want me to come warm yer's up a bit?" The redhead said. Brushing away the offered help and stumbling towards the door.

"You smell like a distillery and are going to be throwing up your guts anytime now. Not exactly what I'm looking for." Charlotte shook her head as she walked behind the drunk. Shooting Scott one last appreciative look before following Becky outside.

Charlotte watched as the redhead moved towards her car and leaned against it to stop the swaying. "Hey Charlie?"

"What?"

"You seen my keys?"

Charlotte sighed loudly and went towards the passenger side of her car. "I'll go check. Sit down. I'll be back in a minute." Gently grabbing a hold of the drunk and steering her inside the car.

She closed the door and made sure to lock the car doors before trudging back inside the bar and going up to Scott once again.

"Any chance she left her keys in here?"

Scott gave her a look and she knew the answer before he spoke. "Sorry. You can check if you want but I didn't see 'em."

Charlotte took a moment to look at the floor but didn't see anything.

"She gonna be alright?" Scott asked.

"Eventually. I'll bring her to my place tonight. Thanks again for everything."

Scott gave a sad smile that held a weight Charlotte couldn't begin to imagine. "Tell Lynch I wish her the best." The blonde gave him a look. She didn't want this little excursion to end up in the news and had hoped that Scott hadn't recognized the woman in his bar. "Don't worry. I won't say nothin'. Looks like she could use a break."

"Thanks." Charlotte wanted to say that Becky didn't deserve a break but it was abundantly clear that she wasn't drinking because she was proud of herself.

When she walked back outside she wasn't terribly surprised to see Becky outside of the car bent over double and throwing up the contents of her stomach onto the cold pavement.

"At least you didn't do that in my car."

Becky had a comeback ready but her stomach choose that exact moment to painfully contract and cause her to retch. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand once the feeling passed and walking back into the car. Settling into her seat and leaning back while Charlotte stared at her.

"Didn't find your keys. You can stay on my couch tonight."

"They're probably just back at the gym." Becky lamented quietly.

Charlotte wanted to roll her eyes but just held back. "And you left them there because?"

"I 'unno."

It was hard but Charlotte managed to breathe through it. "We'll go by in the morning."

"Whatever." Becky leaned her head against the glass. The chill feeling refreshing against her forehead.

Charlotte was honestly asking herself why she was even trying. If she hadn't seen how much shit the redhead had to go through she might have not cared to try.

She had gotten too close despite trying to keep her at arm's length. Charlotte couldn't look away. Becky needed someone to be there for her and as much as she didn't want to be that person, Charlotte knew that she was probably the only one who could. The thought of leaving Becky by herself didn't feel right.

Charlotte needed a plan. Becky was spiralling and hopefully she could stop it before it went too far.

Bayley

Bayley's professional clothing was fitting more snugly than she remembered. Though she supposed this was inevitable when one went on a week-long junk food bender. She didn't usually dress like this save for the most important events, and never for a simple lunch meeting. But Alexa Bliss intimidated her slightly. AND she knew that if she dressed up she'd feel slightly more confident.

One of the last things Charlotte had told Bayley before she had left, was that Bayley NEEDED to leave the apartment at least once every day. Bayley had wanted to rebel against this but she had to concede the wisdom in the advice. The fact that she still had this meeting with Alexa on her calendar (though she'd completely forgotten about it in her recent turmoil) seemed like a good opportunity.

She still wasn't sure what Alexa even wanted to talk to her about, which was adding to her unease. Illogical though it was, she doubted that she would able to be fully comfortable around the diminutive blonde anytime soon given the circumstances of their last meeting. Even now, when Alexa had no authority over any aspect of her life, Bayley still felt apprehensive about meeting with her.

"Relax, it's just a lunch meeting," Bayley told herself, that undermined any confidence she'd been trying to build by stiffening when she saw Alexa Bliss pull open the door to Layna's, the coffee shop they were in, and then look around the dark interior. Her gaze fell on Bayley and she began making a beeline over to the table. Bayley could only describe the other woman's progress as 'heat seeking', Alexa seemed to walk as though she'd charge right through a wall if it were to appear in her way.

"Ms. Martinez," Alexa said as she reached the table.

"Alexa, hello," Bayley said as she stood and smoothed the front of her shirt and offered Alexa her hand awkwardly. The tiny woman had a grip completely out of proportion to her stature and it was all Bayley could do not to wince while the contact lasted.

As they regained their seats Alexa said: "Thank you for seeing me, I would like to make a request of you." She had a way of speaking, a tone and cadence, as though she issuing proclamations in a world where words were being strictly rationed. Had Bayley been an English teacher she might have simply recorded Alexa speaking as a perfect example of grammar and concision.

"Uh, OK...sure. What can I do for you?" Bayley asked, with a weak smile. An expression wasted as she was addressing the top of Alexa's head.

"I see that you didn't take my advice on filler words to heart, it would be of great benefit to you," the blonde said as she opened the bag she'd been carrying. Bayley was taken aback by the statement. She was pretty sure it was rude, but it had flashed by so fast that it was hard to tell. She decided to ignore and press on.

"I apologize for expressing myself poorly Alexa, what can I do for you?" Bayley asked, speaking very deliberately. Alexa looked up at her at this and though she hadn't removed her sunglasses or moved at all, Bayley suddenly got the sense that she was uncomfortable. Was that even possible?

"I was...hoping…" Alexa said, sounding like she was scanning her entire lexicon for each word "...that you might teach me how to handle people." Had Alexa suggested that Bayley teach her how to breathe fire, Bayley would have been less caught off guard.

Catching herself before she said 'uh', Bayley asked: "Isn't that...your job?'

Alexa pursed her lips before answering: "I work FOR people, I even direct them. And I am good- No, I am the best at that. But…handling them? Connecting with them if you will? Well...it pains me to admit but when people are done with my services they compliment me for my work but usually never speak to me again. I am admired, but not liked."

"And you want to be...liked? I apologize Alexa but you've never given me the impression you care one way or another what other people think of you," Bayley offered tentatively.

Alexa blew out a quick breath through her nose, making Bayley think she'd annoyed her. But then the blonde seemed to sag slightly, a slight dip in her shoulders that was dynamically expressive for the usually so rigid Alexa. "You are grasping my dilemma. When something interferes with my work then I will be ruthless in dealing with it-"

"I remember," Bayley said, though she wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though it was helpful and could really only slow the conversation down.

Fortunately, Alexa seemed totally oblivious to any sensitivity Bayley might have on this subject as she simply said "Exactly" before pressing on. "It has been suggested to me more than once, not always kindly, that I do not empathize with people. That I am…'robotic' as several people have said. And it has been driven home to me recently that...that I might be better at my job if I were more...more able to connect with others," Alexa finished.

Bayley took a few moments to think. She couldn't disagree with whoever had told Alexa these things, though she might not have phrased them that way. The woman was brusque to the point of rudeness, and had always seemed to be totally unaware of the fact. But what did she think Bayley could do about it. Bayley was going to ask this when Alexa resumed speaking, though she was talking now as though she simply musing.

"My...former fiance once told me this as well," Alexa said quietly. This news hit Bayley with the force of a revelation from on high. She hadn't really thought about it, but if she had she almost would have thought of Alexa as a being removed from intimate relationships. Or at least too robotic, to use her term, to make them work for very long.

Automatically, Bayley reached across the table and put her hand on top of Alexa's. The other woman stiffened, as though she were about to pull away, but she didn't. Though her posture made it obvious that she was uncomfortable. This, in turn, made Bayley uncertain and she terminated the contract quickly.

"I just..want to be clear then…" Bayley said, "...what is that you want me to do?"

Alexa looked silently down at the table for several moments before she seemed to nod and said: "Whenever I work with Ms. Lynch...she...resists me every step of the way. In fact, she seems to take a perverse delight in doing the opposite of what I ask. Yet, I observed that she seemed to really…'like' you despite not nearly spending as much time with you. I hoped that you might teach me how you did that."

Bayley blinked, this response hadn't made the situation clearer. "So…" she said tentatively "...You want me to tell you how to handle Becky?" She was so nonplussed with her current conversation that she forgot to feel anxious about discussing the Irish fighter.

Alexa shook her head, seemingly in minor frustration. Which was surprising in itself. "That's only part of it...I'd like you to teach me how to make other people...like me," her voice got so quiet at the end of her answer that it was as though she deeply ashamed of what she was saying.

"Oh…" Bayley said, now completely flummoxed. The last thing Alexa had ever seemed to care about before was if people liked her.

"Will you be able to help me?" Alexa asked, now sounding much more like her usual briskly efficient self. The sudden change in tone once again wrong-footed Bayley but she caught herself more quickly this time.

"I...I'm not sure Alexa, but...I'll try," Bayley offered. She really had no idea how she might go about doing this but she supposed it was something to keep her busy.

"Excellent," Alexa said quickly and, in flash, she had her bag up on her lap and was taking out her laptop, a note pad, and two pens. She arranged these neatly in front of her before looking up at Bayley. Even with her glasses on it, she managed to project a strong air of impatience.

"Oh, like right now?" Bayley asked.

"Yes, please."

"OK, uh...well…" Bayley said, trying to find her footing in this conversation "...We could maybe start with little things like how you approach people. What about-"

"A moment please," Alexa cut her off with a raised index finger, there then followed the sound of blisteringly fast typing as the blonde write something out on her laptop. This went on for several seconds before Alexa looked up once more and said: "Proceed."

Bayley blinked a few times and started again: "We could start with basic stuff like how you approach people? For example, we could-"

"But will we?" Alexa interrupted.

"What?"

"You said we 'could', but I was simply attempting to ascertain if we 'will' be doing so," Alexa explained.

"Uh, yes," Bayley said, some speck of irritation creeping into her gut.

"Very well, if it would be of benefit to you Ms. Martinez I could simply wait will you collect your thoughts. You seem somewhat out of sorts today," Alexa said, brusquely.

"What? I mean-...out of sorts?"

"For example, you seem very unsure about your words. Your appearance is also somewhat disheveled. Your hair has greasy buildup, your eyes suggest you haven't slept well for some time, and your nails have dirt under them. I thought perhaps a time to collect yourself might be of some benefit?" Alexa said this in a voice completely without malice, as though she were simply reading items off a list of trivialities.

Nonetheless, Bayley narrowed her eyes at this. "Let's begin," she said flatly. Alexa opened her mouth to say something but Bayley cut her dead by saying: "Tip number one, don't open with pseudo bitch observations about the other person...and removed your damn sunglasses."

Alexa almost physically rocked back at this response, and it didn't get much gentler for her from there. But Bayley had to admit, sometimes it was nice to be the rude one.

Charlotte/Becky/Sasha

Charlotte pulled into the underground parking for the press conference and threw the car into park. She got out without bothering to see if Becky followed. The sound of the passenger door slowly opening was enough.

They walked to the elevator. Charlotte in the lead as Becky followed a few steps back. The elevator ride as quiet as the car ride over had been.

Charlotte left the tiny metal prison first. Her long legs keeping a significant distance with the woman behind her.

She found Shane McMahon in a rare moment of privacy and offered him a handshake. They had spoken many times but the facade of professionalism helped right now.

Becky stood idly behind them with hands dug deep in her pockets. The oversized sunglasses she still wore made her look a little ridiculous in Charlotte's eyes but she understood why the redhead wore them.

After she and the McMahon exchanged quick pleasantries Charlotte walked to the side of the area away from prying ears. The sound of footsteps her only indication that Becky was following.

"Becky." Charlotte waited till she knew Becky was listening. "Are you ready to do this?"

"I've got it."

Charlotte wasn't convinced. As good as Becky was at hiding her hangover she knew that the Irish woman couldn't be feeling good. At this point she was just hoping to get through this presser. She looked over Becky's shoulder and saw a bit of reinforcements in Bobby, Liv and Ruby. At least she wouldn't have to deal with this withdrawn version of Becky by herself anymore.

If she had thought that the normal Becky with her crass jokes and in your face attitude was annoying than what did it say if she actually missed it right now?

"If you're sure."

"I've got it."

Charlotte wanted to a do a lot of things right now but none of them in front of an audience at such a public place. They walked back over to the rest of the team and Charlotte let it go for now.

With the press conference ready to begin soon Shane came over to speak to her and Becky about the upcoming event since Sasha and her team hadn't shown up yet. Although, Becky didn't even pretend to listen. Physically turning away from the conversation. Her eyes unable to turn away from following the newest arrival behind the mirrored lenses.

Sasha was staring blankly out the window of the car Teddy had chartered for her, her mind a million miles from her current task. Part of her was thinking about her last time in Boston, all that had happened, and how it was continuing to affect her life. But a larger part of her was consumed in nerves. Not something that happened often to Sasha Banks.

Since officially sending her message off to Bayley, Sasha had been like a nervous teenager hoping to get a call back from her crush. She'd checked her phone for a response seemingly every time she picked it up, still nothing. She'd had to use great violence on herself to not send a follow-up message or messages. She'd even been halfway through sending a veritable greenhouse worth of flowers to Bayley before she'd managed to stop herself.

Given her druthers, Sasha would be curled up at home doing the same thing now. Waiting to see if she would be forgiven. No, that wasn't fair, waiting to see if the bridge really was burnt. Or if, by some miracle, a connection (however tenuous) remained.

What she would not have chosen to be doing was preparing for another presser as part of the media tour leading up to her fight with Becky Lynch. But if she hadn't been, then she wouldn't have been in Boston at all. Sighing softly she closed her eyes and made herself take a deep breath. She needed to get a grip, IF Bayley even wanted to get back to her she would no doubt take her time. Sasha herself had sat on her video for some time before sending it.

But knowing and acknowledging this consciously was one thing. Her spirit still rebelled against having to wait. She wanted closure one way or the other.

But that was out of her hands.

Once the car reached the venue it pulled around back and came to a stop in the loading area. Sasha got out, careful to remember to thank the driver, and then let Teddy lead her into the building.

"You remember what we talked about?" Teddy asked her.

"From ten minutes ago? Yes!" Sasha said snappishly. She topped then and took another deep breath. Part of her anxiety over Bayley had manifested in an inability to sleep which, combined with Meng's brutal schedule, had left her feeling very tired. "I'm sorry Teddy, I'm just...tired," she said when she spoke again.

Teddy Long had known Sasha for a very long time now. He'd signed the inexperienced young fighter out of Boston based on nothing but a hunch about her potential. And he'd been rewarded beyond his wildest dreams, though he'd also had to deal with headaches that he never could have imagined. He'd dealt with the young and almost timid girl from Boston, the growing confidence of Sasha's early pro days, and the worst of the Boss. Yet he still wasn't quite sure how to deal with this new 'be better' Sasha.

For one thing, he could count on one hand how many sincere apologies he'd gotten from the woman before this. Not that it had ever bothered him. Teddy knew more about Sasha Banks than almost anyone else and he knew that, at her core, she wasn't a bad person. But that core could be buried very deeply at times. Anything Sasha did to unearth it would usually have had his full support.

Which made what he was going to tell her even more unfortunate.

"Listen playa…" he said in a tired voice "...I want you to be better. I'm so proud that you are trying to be. But you know that the fight game isn't all about fighting. It's showtime and the people out there want to see the Boss. Just...wear the mask but don't forget who you are OK?"

Sasha swallowed at her manager's advice. She heard it, she understood, and she was scared of it. Though she would never have vocalized the comparison, she felt that she was in the same boat as Becky. Just as the Irish fighter couldn't have 'just one drink' Sasha was worried that if she put her mask back on, it would never come off.

She was still lost in these thoughts when she finally looked up and found herself in a backstage area. She could hear the murmur of several dozen assembled people coming from the other side of a large curtain. Licking her lips she looked around again and noticed a small group of people nearby.

Becky Lynch was standing with Bobby Lashley, Charlotte Flair, and a few other people. Flair was talking with Shane McMahon who, as usual, was all urbanity. The man was a total chameleon and absolutely mercenary. She knew he'd never hold a grudge if he thought it would cost him money. But by the same token he'd stab his oldest friend in the back for a dime. She had no doubt that he'd be all smiles when she approached.

Fortunately, Teddy moved first. Stepping up the group he said: "Mr. McMahon, how ya livin playa? And you must be the famous Charlotte Flair, it's a real pleasure ma'am." Sasha knew that her manager could charm a steak away from a lion if he so chose and was interested to see what effect it might have on Flair.

Charlotte quickly analyzed the man. She wasn't much in the mood for his attempts at charm after playing babysitter- once again- to a drunk Becky Lynch and being awake till nearly dawn. "Theodore Long. I'm sure it is for you." Holding out her hand with a steely gaze. Choosing to forgo returning his affectation and respond with the opposite.

Teddy never showed offense, at least not in public. The harshest insults were always met with the most winning smiles. And the one he gave Charlotte now could have landed a plane. "It really is, let's hope we all come out of this one wealthier and happier yeah?" Not waiting for a response he looked over Charlotte's shoulder toward Bobby and asked: "What up big man?"

Bobby kept his eyes on Teddy. "Same old, same old." He wasn't too proud to admit the way Sasha had dismissed him still bothered him. Nor would he deny a large level of annoyance and disappointment in Teddy and the other's who hadn't said anything even though they all saw what he had seen.

Becky still hadn't taken her eyes off Sasha since she had entered. It was nice to have an exterior target to distract her mind from herself and the headache that still lingered. She was glad the sunglasses helped her survey the other woman stealthily. There was a certain amount of anxious energy that she could see in Sasha. But she wasn't anxious about the press conference. It was something else.

She finally broke her stare and looked away. "When are we going on Shane?" Becky curtly asked.

Shane made a show of looking down at his flashy, far more expensive than it needed to be, watch. "You're on in ten. Same as normal. You come out-"

"First. Yep. Then she comes out. Then we answer some questions." Becky interrupted. "I've got it." Going right back to pretending to ignore the conversation.

"Champ? Any questions?" Shane asked Sasha, ignoring Becky's surliness.

"Hmm? Oh...uh no," Sasha answered quickly. She hadn't really been listening, her mind elsewhere.

"Where do you want us then playa?" Teddy asked the commissioner.

"Your seats are marked if you want to be in the audience otherwise wherever you like back here," McMahon answered before he hurried away. Sasha imagined that she could hear the cash register going off in his head.

"I'm going to see you in a bit, going to go wait for Meng to arrive," Teddy told her before he walked away.

Charlotte turned to Becky with her arms crossed. "See you after."

"Cool."

Ruby saw Charlotte's patience with the redheads mood running out and quickly wrapped one arm around the taller blonde's shoulders and the other around her much tinier blonde girlfriend. "We should get moving before we get in the way. Bye Becky. Don't say anything too stupid." She teased, hoping to get any reaction out of the woman who had become a pretty good friend to her in the gym.

"...Mmmhmm."

The heavily tattooed fighter knew something was up but she also knew Becky wouldn't say anything more right now. "Let's go girls." Leading the two blondes away as Bobby followed along behind. His heavy gaze lingering on both champion and challenger before finally moving out of their sight.

This left Sasha alone with Becky in an atmosphere that might generously be described as 'tense'. It was more like being told to hold a match in a gunpowder store. 'Be better' Sasha reminded herself as she cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry for what happened at the last one," she told Becky.

Becky kept herself turned away from Sasha. Refusing to even look at her. She remembered when she had implied Sasha was a horrible friend to Bayley late night at the gym prior to Ric's funeral. It was darkly funny and she actually chuckled under her breath at how poorly her words had aged. "Cool. Apology accepted… It's cute. It really is. Your little act."

Sasha narrowed her eyes: "Act?"

Becky finally turned to look at Sasha but didn't take off the sunglasses. She shrugged nonchalantly, her face unnaturally calm. "The whole being a better person thing. I'm not tryin' to be mean. Just calling it like I see it." A half smile with no joy creeping onto her face. Might as well start her own act.

Sasha was tired, she'd been nervous the whole night, and now she was here more or less against her will. This was the sort of thing that would have irritated her on her best day, and it definitely slipped right under her guard now. Still, she managed to reign herself in and say: "I deserve that." Though this was all she could manage.

"Don't worry. Maybe you can act long enough to convince yourself its real. Isn't that what being a good person is anyway?" The redhead wasn't trying to be mean. She saw herself in Sasha. Normally it would annoy her but after she was confronted with the rotten core beneath she felt sorry for the other woman. "But what the hell do I know." Maybe she was a little bitter that Sasha was still trying to be a better person when she had so obviously failed. Yet another thing Sasha was beating her at.

Sasha, for one of the first times ever, had no answer to a hostile remark. In fact, she was disturbed by just how accurately Becky had placed her knife. Sasha had been feeling that her 'be better' phase was...mechanical, unnatural. Bayley had always seemed to light up rooms and connect with people without any apparent effort, Sasha wasn't good at it even with maximum effort.

Looking down she took a half step away from Becky and just waited, lost in a gloomy reverie. She was more than thankful when she heard the familiar opening notes of Becky's music begin to play. She didn't look up as the Irish woman left, just rubbed at her eyes and wished that she could just go to bed.

Becky made her way onstage and walked directly to her chair. No waving, no playing to the crowd. She hadn't even acknowledged Shane. Plopping herself down in the chair and throwing her feet up onto the table. Leaning back and getting as comfortable as she possibly could. Hangover gathering a second wind of annoyance at the bright lights and pulsing bass from the music being pumped in.

She was grateful when the music stopped. Only for Sasha to be introduced and the cycle to continue.

It was funny really. Early in her career, the drum opening of 'Satisfaction' by Eve had been one of Sasha's favorite sounds in the world. She'd used the song as her walkout for her whole career and yet now, hearing it, she felt like a stranger in someone else's home. But she was here to do a job, so she would try.

"Mask on," she told herself.

As she walked out onto the stage she did her best to smile, though it felt painfully forced to her. She gave limp half-hearted waves to the crowd as she walked but made sure to be sitting quickly. As the music faded she stared out at the sea of faces in front of her and suddenly felt very intimidated...or maybe 'inadequate' was the word. None of them were here for her.

"Alright! Now that we got both of the ladies out here, why don't we get started…" Shane said from behind them "...Zach, I believe you're going first today?"

Zach Ryder stood up and asked: "Sasha, Becky, the London press conference you did has been getting…'mixed' reviews. Do you two have any comments to offer on the reaction you're both getting? Sasha, maybe an update on how trying to be a better person is going? Becky, a sobriety update?"

Sasha had to work not to roll her eyes at this. "Really? Not a question about the fight, we're opening with that?" This response slipped out of her mouth almost before she was aware of what she was saying and she kicked herself inwardly as soon as she'd said it. Pausing she added: "Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you Zach but I'd really like to just talk about the fight."

Becky pulled out her phone and placed it in her lap out of sight. "I don't care how people reacted. And go fuck yourself. My business is my business. Unlike Sasha, I'll just be honest and say I'm not sorry. Next question."

"Carlos Cabrera con ESPN deportes. With this being the such a large press tour do either of you worry about this affecting your actual preparation for the fight?"

The redhead didn't bother looking up. "Nope." She looked down at the words she had meticulously typed out on her phone but then quickly deleted it all.

Sasha shot a look over at Becky, not exactly surprised but more annoyed. Becky was obviously past caring but that would just make her part that much harder. Forcing another plastic smile she said: "No, Carlos, I don't think so, I've done a lot of these."

The assembled reporters were looking at each other and muttering now. It was clear what they were thinking. If the last press conference had been a let down due to its lack of excitement, this one wasn't starting much better with both fighters being so non-communicative. This impression was strengthened over the next fifteen minutes as both fighters continued to respond to, but not answer, all questions. Becky, by ostentatiously barely paying attention and Sasha by hiding behind athlete speak.

"Jonathan Coachman, TMZ, Sasha could you give us a comment on the recent interview given by-"

"NO…" Sasha barked, causing even Becky to look up. She collected herself and said: "I have no comments on that interview, I release my response, and I would REALLY appreciate some questions about the fight please." Her voice was pleasant as she said this but as taut as a drum.

Becky leaned towards her mic. "I've got a question actually. Could you please not be so loud when answering dumb questions? Thanks. That was all."

Sasha clenched her fists under the table as someone else spoke up. "Becky, some reports are saying you went AWOL after the card in NYC. Can you confirm or deny that?" a reporter called from the back.

Becky deleted the sentence she had typed out. Her finger nearly cracking the screen with the force she pressed on it. "Who said that? Huh? What I do on my time is my business. Holy FUCK! You're making me agree with cotton candy head. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE... ask about the fight."

A somewhat brave soul decided to speak up but didn't bother standing. "This is for both women. How do you see the fight ending?"

"How do you think? Her little peanut head bouncing off the canvas. If she's lucky that will be the end of it. Otherwise, I'm going to repay the favor and break somethin' of hers." Becky said with a desperate fiery conviction. She had to beat Sasha this time. The thought of another loss was worse than death. She had come out here to try and play Shane's game and be the old Becky Lynch again but it was far easier than she had hoped to fall back into it.

Some of the old fire awoke inside Sasha as she leaned forward to say: "Do you remember what happened last time?" When the reporter didn't answer, obviously thinking this had been rhetorical, she repeated herself.

"Yes?"

"There you go," Sasha said as she leaned back in her chair.

"You fookin wish. Yer so stupid ya wouldn't even know your own hair color. If you actually think that I feel sorry for you. This will be an easier fight than I thought." Becky laughed joylessly and her feet left the table to meet the ground. "Keep my belt warm will ya."

The fire rose higher, as Sasha felt the mood in the room shift to one of eager anticipation. It seemed that Becky was ready to give the crowd what they wanted. She also reminded herself that she needed to 'wear the mask'. But how did that square with trying to be someone worthy of Bayley?

"Oh yeah? Well, scoreboard. Next question?" was all she ended up saying as she looked around the room, ostentatiously ignoring Becky.

The words didn't bother Becky. Being ignored did. She leapt to her feet and moved quickly across the dais and used her foot to violently nudge the table in front of Sasha. The generic metal legs of the folding table scraping across the stage and shaking the shiny title that had been sitting on the table before her opponent.

Shane gave her a faux horrified look and held an arm out in front of the redhead to stop her from going further.

The fire was now an inferno and the boss like Kronos locked in Tartarus, fighting to escape. She raged to be released but Sasha still hadn't given up hope. Not looking up at Becky she said: "Sit down 'champ', wouldn't want to strain that knee again." Sasha felt this was a fair concession to Teddy, even though she knew if she didn't leave the situation soon things would escalate.

Becky grinned. This was better than feeling sorry for herself. She felt alive and reinvigorated with all the eyes on her. "Don't you worry bout me. I'll find a sweet little lass to rub it and make it all better. You still have Zelina's number? It'd be much appreciated."

Sasha's fists were clenched so tight she thought she might sprain a finger. Looking slowly down at the table she nodded her head twice before standing slowly. She was careful on this point because she didn't want to startle Becky into attacking her. When she was fully upright she turned slowly to gaze into the Irish woman's leering face.

So many ideas flashed into her mind, almost all of them destructive. She had tried SO HARD to extend an olive branch to Lynch, they could have gotten through this together. But when someone slaps your hand away, what are you supposed to do? Just keep offering it like a chump? No, she was sick of this game.

Something inside Sasha Banks gave way.

Narrowing her eyes Sasha said: "Sure...I do, might be nice to actually know the name of the person you're sleeping with for once huh? Maybe you could set the mood with a drink...or ten." As she said this she picked her title up off the table in front of her and began stepping backward. As she went she raised it high over her head, never breaking eye contact with Becky.

"No more questions," she called as she reached the curtain before turning to vanish through it.

"Ahh, there she goes. Runnin' away and hidin'." Becky tried to goad Sasha back out. She wasn't ready to go back. At least out here, she could pretend she didn't hate herself. It didn't seem like it was in the cards though so she just turned back to the crowd of press. "How's that for a press conference you little twats." Giving a kiss to her middle fingers before flipping both to the audience. "Wish I could say you've been a wonderful audience but I'm trying to be a better person and not lie." Becky mockingly added. Waving her hand in front of her in a broad pantomime of Sasha's movement that couldn't be mistaken for anything other than disrespect.

Sasha was almost at the stage exit when Meng caught her, his imposing bulk between her and the door. "You proud of yourself out there?" he asked in an expressionless voice.

All Sasha said was "let's get out of here." But on a deep level, something had broken as she'd tried to sit endure Becky's taunts. Something that now told her that god damn right she was proud, and there would be more to come. If this was what the world did to people who tried to be better maybe she was just a bad person.

Charlotte/Becky

She hadn't spoken when Sasha had blown past her. She wasn't even sure if the fighter had noticed her waiting just behind the curtain. Charlotte looked at it as a blessing in disguise. Her mind was too focused on what she had just heard and seen on stage. Even now she could hear the redhead was still soaking in the adulation of the fans who had come to see a spectacle and taunting the media simultaneously.

Whatever she had expected from this press conference, this certainly wasn't it. If she had half a mind and thought Sasha would listen she would apologize on Becky's behalf. Charlotte couldn't be sure from her outside view but Sasha seemed sincere in her dramatic change in attitude.

When the Irish woman finally came off stage Sasha was long gone and Charlotte stood resolute. Prepared to try and talk sense into a woman that wouldn't want to hear it.

The words in her mouth died before they came out. A metamorphosis occurred as the curtain billowed close behind Becky. Gone was the brash, confident woman who seemed eerily at home in front of the cameras and lights and the sullen, withdrawn Becky emerged.

"Can we go?"

Charlotte had been prepared to speak with the woman she saw on stage but was thrown for a loop with the change. "What was that out there?"

Becky only shrugged and shoved her hands deep in her pockets. Even with the mirrored sunglass lenses, Charlotte could tell she was just looking at the ground. "Shane said he wanted 'The Man'. I gave it to him."

"What did you want?"

Becky didn't care what she wanted anymore. She wanted to not hate herself but that wasn't possible. She wanted Bayley to be happy but she had forfeited her say in that. She wanted Charlotte to not care so she could lament everything she lost in peace. "Doesn't matter."

"Do you really think that?" Charlotte questioned.

"I know it." The answer was spoken with such certainty that the blonde frowned. She still wanted to be upset on Bayley's behalf but couldn't help feeling a shard of that anger chip away. "Can we just leave already. I should go train."

"Are you sure you feel up for it? You were throwing up in my bathroom just six hours ago?"

"I've got it."

Charlotte didn't know how to feel anymore but knew that Becky was obviously more affected by what she had done than she let on. "Do you?"

Becky didn't bother answering.

Bayley

It was hard to say just how Bayley was feeling as she finished reading the text message.

...I can't ever make up for what I said or apologize enough. But please don't shut out Charlotte or the people that actually care about you. Take care of yourself.

P.S. don't blame yourself. Es mi culpa.

Just a day or so earlier she would have been reduced to a wreck again by it, just hearing from Becky would have been enough. After Charlotte had arrived and they'd had their talk, she guessed she would have been angry. Now, after all that and her time with Alexa she wasn't sure. Not sure at all.

In the past, she knew she would have instantly given in to her impulse to call Becky and try to make things right. Address them now and put them in the past so they could move forward as friends. And this impulse was still powerfully present, but she wasn't acting on it. For possibly the first time in her adult life, she was wondering if she'd done so too often.

Bayley had always been the peacemaker, always the diplomat. She smoothed over conflicts and showered the people around her in love. Not that either of these things was at all bad in itself, but Bayley was realizing that she may have gone too far. As she'd put it to Charlotte, 'you kick me and I apologize for being kicked'.

Did she really even WANT Becky Lynch back in her life? No, that was the wrong question. She desperately wanted her friend back, but SHOULD she. Becky's apology had been everything you might hope for from such a text and Bayley truly believed the fighter was sorry. But, drunk or not, Becky's message meant that on some level she felt those things about Bayley. Could they continue on knowing that?

Bayley longed for the time when the answer would have been an easy 'yes of course'.

As if that wasn't enough to deal with she had a second message to deal with. Pulling her laptop toward her she looked at the email she'd received. A message from someone she'd thought she'd probably never speak to again. There was no body text and no subject, and it had taken all of her strength of character to play the video attached to the message.

Bayley couldn't help her breath catching as a player opened on her screen. The scene showed a bed and a person sitting on it. A person whose features were seared not only into Bayley's memory but her heart and soul. The woman had the most striking eyes, the same eyes that Bayley had lost herself in so many times. Crowning all was the familiar mane of magenta hair.

"Hi, Bay…" said the Sasha Banks in the video "...It's been a long time. I...I hope you're doing good…"

Bayley sat quietly as she watched the video, and then watched it again, then a third time. Each time she did, she kept expecting to be bowled over by a wave of emotions. She waited...but it never came. Her insides were roiling but it was as though she were floating above it now. She couldn't deny her longing for the woman in the video. But it turned out she was in control of it.

Bayley sat silently staring straight ahead for a very long time. She would occasionally look down at her phone and then over to her laptop, but she'd always end up staring at the wall again. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be feeling, maybe she was approaching some sort of overload point. But what she knew one thing beyond anything else at the moment, one fixed certainty that she could cling to.

She had nothing to say to either of them.

So that night, as Sasha and Becky both checked their phones, they finally got a reply to their messages, of sorts. As both women checked their phones they saw one word.

Seen.