Months Later Ramira received a call. It had been early in the morning and she had just woken up not more than fifteen minutes before her cell phone had gone off.

"Ramira," a voice asked over the phone.

"Yeah," she asked her voice still husky from sleep.

"Its your mother," the voice said lightly.

"Oh, um hi mom how are you," Ramira said suddenly alert.

"Vince told us about your situation, and your father and I are worried."

"Mom look it's not Vince's fault that the market isn't right for me right now. Fans want to see pretty girls like Trish and Christine Hemme, not alternative girls like me."

"Oh but honey," her mother sighed, "I'm worried about your health."

Sighing Ramira looked down and touched her left knee gently. She had ripped her ACL while being pushed down a set of ring steps during Heat. Jackie had apologized profusely afterward because Ramira had not been set up right. It had been bad news ever since then, since she had been regulated the role of Jobber.

God that's such a dirty word Ramira thought. Every time she got a call that she would be appearing in a match she would arrive at the arena and be treated lower than dirt. The only person on staff who would treat her with respect and decency was Lilian Garcia. But it was a rarity these days that she worked with Lilian.

"Honey… Honey are you listening to me," her mother's voice echoed through the cell phone.

"Yeah mom I'm here," Ramira snapped back to reality.

"Where are you right now," her mother asked worriedly.

"I'm in a motel that charges by the hour," she sighed. As a jobber good paying jobs that came along were infrequent. So to save money, she drove her 2000 Mitsubishi Lancer to every match. She helped set up the ring for money, and she slept in seedy motels where a prostitute had stretched her legs not more than hours before.

Laughing Ramira thought of the absurdity of it all. "Ramira do you want Dad and I to wire money to you," her mother whispered through the phone.

"No mom I said I wanted to do this on my own and I am going to do it on my own."

"I know sweetie, but do you really have to be stubborn about this all. We could just," her mother trailed off.

"Mom I know that you are concerned but please just let me do my thing. I love you and I'll give you a call next week," Ramira said coldly.

"Okay honey I love you," her mother whispered quietly

"Bye mom." Ramira hung up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed crying softly. She wanted to make it so bad, but she was injured, did not have the right look, and was not willing to sleep her way to the top. "What am I going to do," she yelled out loud.

The only echo back was the thumping of the bed from next door.