Third installment is here. I took every single one of your ideas and opinions and took them into careful consideration and will probably be writing around them, so thank you! I hope you enjoy. I know it's short, but chapter 4 should be out probably by next week.

Three days later, Trish paced around her bedroom, frustrated, as she held the phone to her ear. There was nothing but ringing coming from the other end and she was becoming impatient. She fell backwards onto her bed and propped the phone between her chin and shoulder as she examined her nails, which were in need of some desperate attention, and waited longer.

"Who doesn't have caller ID nowadays?" She asked out loud and was about to hang up when a sleepy voice answered on the other end. "Hey what's up? This is Trish."

There was a brief moment of silence and then it sounded like the phone fell onto the floor. "Sorry about that girl. What's going on? How'd the visit go?"

Trish frowned. "Not good actually. I guess they started up that Diva Search thing again." There was a groan from the other end. "Yeah I know. But I talked to Amy and Lisa, they said things were getting pretty bad backstage."

"How so?"

"All the guys and some of the higher-ups are starting to take the real divas less and less serious because of all this crap going on. It's really frustrating."

"It sounds like it would be."

"I just don't know what to do about it," Trish sighed. "I love this business more then anything and I love the fans but the backstage politics are definitely beginning to take their toll. It's making the WWE less and less fun to be a part of."

"You're not thinking of quitting are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Trish said immediately. "And even if I did, where would I go? It's not like TNA treats their divas any better over there."

"True, but at least the girls they have aren't just there for eye candy and get involved."

Trish scoffed. "What are you talking about? Traci is the only diva they have left over there and I think she's on the brink from what I've heard."

"I don't know what to tell you then Trish."

"I don't know what to think," she agreed. She sat up on her bed and then fell backwards against the pile of pillows, feeling very fidgety all of a sudden. "I'm going to have to call you back."

"Sure thing. Bye Trish."

"Bye."

Stacy Keibler arrived to some random arena for that night's house show in a good mood. Very much like her friend Torrie, she was happily oblivious to most that went around her backstage. She said hi to a few people, namely her seamstress and stylist and then yawned.

She was about to turn the corner when she heard a group of guys talking. That alone wouldn't have stopped her from walking past, but she heard her name being dropped and curiosity got the best of her.

"Guys, guys. Come on now, as long as we have something to look at, it's a good thing," Randy Orton said simply. "Who cares if they can wrestle or not."

"Which they can't," Edge cut in. "But it's funny to watch them try."

"All I know is that when Stacy comes out for a match, I'll watch her get into the ring and I could care less what she did after that."

"You're not missing much."

Stacy's mouth dropped. Who in the hell did these guys think they were? She rounded the corner and placed her hands on her hips as she faced the group of wrestlers.

They spotted her and started nudging each other, smirking.

"I heard what you all were saying and I just want to let you know that that's the most offensive thing I've ever heard in my life," she said hotly. "And I've never been a tattle-tale, but I'm going to make sure that Vince knows what you guys were saying."

"Go for it Stace," Edge said. "But let's face it, you're never going to have that belt around your waist. We know it and you sure as hell must know it."

Stacy was so offended and upset at this point that she couldn't even respond to that. Instead, she clenched her teeth together to keep herself from crying, spun around and nearly sprinted down the hallway. It wasn't until she was far away enough where she couldn't hear or see the guys anymore did she slide down against a wall, tucked her knees to her chest and started sobbing.

A few minutes later she heard footsteps coming towards her and she wiped her hands over her face before looking up.

Christian was kneeling down next to her, a concerned look on his face. "What's going on Stace?"

"Nothing," she sniffed, and then suddenly felt very childish. "I'm just a little over emotional right now."

He looked around before focusing his attention back on her. "Listen, don't pay attention to what those guys are saying. They're assholes." He patted her on the shoulder awkwardly. "I understand that you're doing the best you can—"

Stacy narrowed her eyes and stood up. "You guys just don't get it do you. You don't consider us girls equals. What is it, just because we have breasts? Is that it Jay?"

He looked taken back. "In all fairness, some of the guys have breasts too."

She resisted the urge to laugh at the idiocy of that statement and sighed instead. "Yes, that is true," she said. "But really not the point here."

"So what is it?" He asked. "The fact that they told you you'd never have the Women's Championship?"

"Partly," she agreed. "But if I really wanted to win that title, I could." Christian gave her a look and she stood up, her hands on her hips. "You're thinking the same way those other dumb guys are thinking. For some reason, I thought you were different," she said, looking down at him. "You all suck." And with those parting words, she stalked down the hall towards her own locker room.