The ginger woman gasped as the fires began to surround her, the heat beginning to cause her skin to glisten with sweat. Seeing no other option, she stood firmly before breaking into a sprint down the hotel corridor, her shoes thudding loudly against the carpet. Raising her arms to protect her face, she leapt through the air and dove through the glass window, the dangerous surface shattering into hundreds of fragments upon impact. Her trajectory carried her over to the following rooftop. She landed safely on her feet, her momentum causing her to curl herself into a ball before rolling forward.
She couldn't help but allow a grin of relief to spread across her face, her quick breathing causing her breath to puff the strands of orange hair across her eyeline like a pendulum. Against all odds, she'd survived the deadly assassination attempt. They'd blown up the entire hotel just to try to claim her life. But she had defied them, her survival instincts kicking in. As pleased as she was with her own quick thinking, and grateful for the continued ability to breathe unhindered, she had to keep moving. She couldn't stop and rest, even for a second. Her enemies would soon discover that she had survived. They would look for her, but they wouldn't find her. Not if she could help it.
"And, CUT!" the director bellowed to the film crew, his Irish lilt coming through his voice. The redhead rose from her position, a slight smile emerging from the satisfaction with her performance. And with that, the production had come to an end. The past six months of filming had been trying, but it had all finally come to an end, and the actor/stuntwoman could relax.
The director clapped her on the back as the rest of the crew began to frantically rush around them. "Fantastic job Becks! It came out great in the rushes, and it'll look breath-taking after post."
"It sounds like you're trying to butter me up, Finn," Becky smirked at her close friend.
Finn Balor laughed as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "No no lass, I'm just acknowledging a job done exceptionally well. Every glass ceiling we have, you shatter it. Or in this case, a glass window."
The two friends shared a laugh at the obvious joke. "It did look good, didn't it?" Becky asked for reassurance, cocking her eyebrow and angling her head ever so slightly to the side. She took immense pride in her work. The Irish woman desperately desired to be acknowledged as the best in the industry, and the only way to do that was through hard work. If something didn't look right in her performance, she needed to know.
Finn smiled in response. "Just as we planned."
With the reassurance, Becky exhaled a sigh of relief. She always put pressure on herself to deliver, to warrant the reputation she'd carved out for herself. She was happy to report that she did almost every time, and this was another occurrence.
"You'll be coming to the wrap party tonight, yeah?" the bearded man asked Becky as she started to shrug on her leather jacket.
"The opportunity to get hammered and spread more of my hilarious jokes?" Becky gasped in faux offense at the notion that she would consider giving it a miss. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Come on Becks, your jokes aren't that good," Finn said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Both of them knew that his statement didn't have a hint of sincerity in it.
Becky visibly flinched and gasped loudly for comic effect. "How dare you; my jokes are hilarious! An' what kind of a party would it be if it didn't have puns?"
"A better one?" Finn teased, his grin growing wider the more exaggerated Becky's faux offense became.
Much to Finn's surprise, Becky actually stopped her mocked outrage. She stood there, hands trembling, her bottom lip wobbling, seamlessly transitioning to genuine-looking upset. Tears began to roll down her cheek, and Finn instantly began to console her. He did tease her a lot, perhaps their banter sometimes got to her more than she let on.
"Lass, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"I…just…" Becky began, trying her best to communicate effectively through the sobs beginning to wrack her body. Finn grew even more perplexed as she began to rifle through her jacket pocket. Finn watched her hand, growing even more confused by the second. To his bewilderment, Becky's hand dragged out of her pocket to reveal an orange. Following the movement of her hand as she raised it to her face, his eyes tracked up to see Becky flashing him a mischievous grin, the only hint left of her crying being the wet lines running down from her eyes.
"Orange you glad I'm such a good actor?" Becky burst into laughter. No matter how many times she tricked her friend into stumbling into a joke, he never seemed to learn.
"Fer feck sake lass!" Finn found it impossible to be mad at Becky for her deception, joining in the laughter with a chuckle. "Do you seriously just carry around an orange just to make puns?"
"That, and they're a good source of citrus," Becky deadpanned. She tossed the orange to Balor, who caught it effortlessly.
"Tricks like that will get you uninvited to the wrap party," Finn warned with as much seriousness as he could muster. Unfortunately for him, there was a reason he was a director and not an actor.
"Oh come on," Becky protested, walking over towards an inanimate prop. "We're gonna have a whale of a time!" she punned, wildly gesturing to the animatronic whale head prop which had been used in a scene earlier that day.
Their time was cut short as a runner called Finn's attention. "I'd better get going," he said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb while smiling bittersweetly; the two close friends enjoyed each other's company so much it was always a shame when they were forced to part. Even so, both were dedicated to their respective jobs and relished throwing themselves into their work. If that dedication meant cutting socialising time short, then so be it. "I'll see you tonight at 8?"
"Of course Finny boy, as long as you're still awake that is?" she said, poking fun at Finn's dedication to his career often coming at the cost of sleep.
"Ah you know me, I'm an extra-ordinary man who does extraordinary things," Finn grinned.
"You certainly are extra," Becky shot back in jest, bouncing her eyebrows, Finn unable to stifle a laugh at the clear hypocrisy on display.
The two friends said their goodbyes before Finn headed back to set, and Becky clambered astride her motorbike, speeding from the filming location in the direction of her apartment in Orlando.
As she zipped down the roads which led to her destination, Becky reflected on her journey to get to where she was today.
From the moment she had learned how to walk, going back to her upbringing in Dublin, Ireland, Becky had been a daredevil. Whether she was practising parkour or driving off ramps on her bike during her childhood and teen years, Becky had risked her physical health for the sheer thrill of it. To her, there was nothing more exciting and exhilarating than the pure adrenaline generated from putting her body on the line for a calculated risk. It was this addiction to thrill-seeking that had drawn her to a career as a stuntwoman. Climbing up the ranks of the television and film industries, the fiery-haired Irish woman had dazzled casts and crews around the world with her precisely calculated stunts always resulting in fantastical results. Whether they needed her to act as a body double in a spectacular character action, or to add to the carnage as an extra, Becky Lynch was a name that could always be relied upon to deliver.
Before long, Becky's magnetic personality drew the eye of a fellow Irishman, the acclaimed director Finn Balor. Seeing more potential in her beside risking her physical health, Finn had pushed her to try out as an actor. As he'd expected, Becky had taken to her new role with flying colours. Today, Becky was regularly cast in increasingly important roles, always insisting on performing all of her own stunts. While this combination of roles somewhat reduced the risk to her physical health, it still allowed her to fulfil her adrenaline-junky needs.
As she continued to reminisce, Becky approached her apartment's empty parking area. She slowed to a stop before turning the key, the sound of her bike's engine fading to silence. Remaining seated, the Irishwoman sighed peacefully, with just a hint of wistfulness. Truth be told, she thoroughly enjoyed her life. She was content – mostly. While she was lucky enough to enjoy a steady stream of work in a job she was thrilled to do, work that she was proud of accomplishing to a high standard, she couldn't help but think that perhaps she wanted just a little bit more physical risk to fulfil her adrenaline-based needs. Sporadic stunt work was all well and good, but that was the trouble with having genuine friends in her line of work. They looked out for her physical wellbeing, to the point of putting their foot down when she refused to, steadily cutting down her stunts to preserve her health.
Becky chuckled softly to herself at this thought. She did recognise how lucky she was to have genuine friends looking out for her, even if it meant saving her from herself.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Becky rolled up the sleeve of her leather jacket, checking her watch. A smile crossed her face as she realised she had time to get in a couple hours nap before she had to think about getting ready for the wrap party later that night.
Her pupils still focused on the clock hands of the watch, Becky paid no attention to the dazzling electric blue light shining down from the sky, engulfing her body, before it zapped out of sight. When the flash of light dispersed, Becky was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, Becky Lynch was no longer on the planet. Like a good few characters she'd played over the years, Becky appeared to have been abducted by aliens. Unless she found a way home soon, she was going to miss her wrap party.