I'm a Fucking Wildcard

Darcy was breathing heavily through her nose, staring at the computer screen. She had decided to read up on what people thought about her debut match and it hadn't turned out to be a good idea. No one had anything nice to say about the match, and Darcy hadn't expected them to, but a lot of them were more ruthless than she could ever have imagined.

Worst match i've ever seen she needs to be future endeavoured already

don't care if it was her first match. darcy can't wrestle for shit. i can wrestle better than her.

I'm not sure there was any part of that match she didn't botch.

Does Darcy even have a character? BORING.

I feel sorry for the Divas in developmental who are actually trying and not getting called for tapings because Darcy is getting their spot.

She slammed her hands onto the desk, drawing Jon's attention to her.

"Criticism sucks, Darc. I get it but-" Jon started to appease her but he was cut off when she viciously began to yell at him.

"No! You don't get it! No one here gets it! You all talk about how much you've had to overcome, how shit your lives have been but you don't get it! You're exactly what they look for! You're tall, you've got all the right muscles and you might not be what they'd call conventionally attractive... But you're fucking hot. You ooze charm and charisma out of your pores. People stop to listen to you speak! You're a sociopath, you don't even have to get into character, you are your character. You're a natural born heel but given the challenge you could probably pull off the anti-hero better than anyone else. You were always going to make it here. Give it a few years and you'll be top of the goddamn company.

"Me? I'm 5'2, I barely weigh 90 pounds and I look like a child." She stomped her foot again, throwing her hands into the air. "I can't wrestle! It's a car crash every time in step in the ring, a bull in a china shop. It's reckless abandon and hoping to god I don't break someone's neck. I can't cut a decent promo to save myself! I don't know why I'm here but you best believe that I am going to do my fucking best to stay here and not make a fucking fool of myself while I am. My whole life I've been told that I couldn't do anything, that I'd never make a name for myself anywhere.

"I was 12 when I was handed my first cigarette and now I'm a chain smoker. I was 13 when I had my first drink and now I can't put down the bottle. I was born addicted to a cocktail of drugs – I shouldn't fucking be alive. I shouldn't have been born let alone have made it to 22. I decided at 16 that it was a good idea to hook up with my geometry teacher – I got him fired. I started cheerleading purely because my uncle told me I could never be one, that I was too short and too fat, that I wasn't pretty enough. I only made it because I lost a fuck ton of weight and now I weigh next to nothing and even the weakest person can toss me into the air and catch me when I come back down.

"I started wrestling because, again, someone told me I couldn't do it. I'm proving everyone wrong by being here! I have to do this! And you're either going to help me or you're going to be one of those fuckers who tries to keep me down. If you try and keep me down... So, help me God I will make your life a living hell."

"You done?" he asked her, staring over the top of her head.

"What do you mean am I done? That's it? That's fucking all?" She shouted at him, storming up and whacking him across the chest. "And fucking look at me when I'm talking to you! You never look at anyone in the eye when they speak! You stare off into some fucking alternate universe and its fucking annoying!"

"You want me to look at you?" Jon asked, laughing manically. "Fine, I'll look at you if you stop pulling the woe is fucking me act."

"Woe is me?! Do you know what it's like-"

"Babe, believe me, you aren't the only fucking person in this world who's had a rough life. What's with the sudden change of heart?" He asked her, choosing that moment to look directly into her eyes. "Not once have you decided that you need help, that you can't do this on your own. You've made pretty damn sure that everyone knows you've got your own back. You're going to let a couple of smarks on the internet get to you?"

"It's not- they know-"

"What do you they know?" He asked when she hesitated. "They know how to get under your skin. They know how to point out every flaw in a match and conveniently forget that you were thrown off the turnbuckle and landed on your feet or that you have a really nice looking Lou Thesz Press. Fuck 'em. Seriously. They don't mean shit."

"It's not that easy."

Jon laughed at her, "It is definitely that easy. Toughen the fuck up or they're going to eat you alive."

After some more yelling and general grumpiness on Darcy's party, the two of them made their way to training. Darcy was more eager than ever. Watching her match had instilled a certain level of determination in her but reading what the internet had to say had lit a fire underneath her ass and she wasn't about to be burned.

Both were early for their allotted times so they sat in an empty room and warmed up, staying out of everyone else's way.

Darcy found a jump rope on their way through and had started jumping, alternating her feet as she did so. Jon glanced over at her every now and then as he jogged up and down the length of the room.

"You're a bit of a freak of nature. You know that?" Jon asked her as she started running with him whilst still using the rope.

"You can't jump rope?"

"I can jump rope like a human," he corrected her. She stuck her tongue out at him before running back to her original spot and double jumping. Each time he sent her a weird look she assured him that what she wasn't doing wasn't hard – he really started to think she was lying when she did a handstand and managed to pull the rope underneath her feet before they hit the ground.

It continued much the same for ten minutes and at that stage they started to stretch. Jon was doing his regular stretches but, just as before, was getting distracted by Darcy. She reached over to touch her toes and did so easily before wrapping her arms around her calves.

"You can't touch your toes?" Darcy asked when she straightened up and saw Jon frowning at her.

"I can touch my toes just fine. I can't do that." He gestured at her, the frown still on his face. "Humans can't do that."

"Most of the Divas here can do that."

"What else you got?"

Darcy shrugged and sat on the ground with her legs stretched apart. She reached to touch her toes on her right foot before reaching further so that her stomach was flat against her thigh. Repeating with her left leg, she held each hold for 10 seconds.

With her legs still stretched, Darcy put her hands onto the ground and slowly pushed them along the ground. She lifted her head when she felt Jon staring only to immediately look away. He was watching her intently, his head cocked to the side. She felt her cheeks growing warm and tried to discretely shake it off.

"You did really well today, Darcy," Bill DeMott said, stopping Darcy and Jon as they were making their way out of the building.

"Thanks," Darcy nodded with a small smile. Approval from her bosses always made her happier than she was willing to admit.

"We didn't book you on the last set of tapings, did we?"

"No, sir. Probably a wise move."

"You're going to be part of the next tapings in a match against Paige. We feel that she'll be able to help you given her experience."

Darcy nodded, her previous smile disappearing as her mouth pulled into a thin line.

"I'll keep her off the internet," Jon commented, clasping a hand on her shoulder, essentially swallowing it. It made her hyper aware of his size.

DeMott nodded slowly before shaking his head. "It seemed to do her some good. Maybe it's what she needs."

"I'm right here," Darcy said, pushing her gym bag around her back and crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll be fine and ready for the tapings."

The Head Trainer smiled at her before shooing her away, telling her that she deserved a rest after the hard day of training she'd subjected herself to.

Jon's hand never left her shoulder as they left the building and walked towards the car. It was a casual gesture, simple enough that it didn't make Darcy uncomfortable but it did make her very conscious of all her own actions. Every breath she was taking, every time she shifted her gym bag, all movements were made with the knowledge that Jon Good was standing right beside her. She didn't want to do anything that might make him retract his hand.

"The guys were thinking about heading to the beach on Saturday before Paige's. Wanna come?" Jon asked as they reached his car and he moved his arm back to his side.

She muttered and hung her head, "I'll pass."

"If you change your mind you can tag along, yeah?"

"I told Ray I'd help her with some set up," Darcy explained as she opened the car door. It was an unnecessary explanation, sure, but she didn't want anyone to think that she was running from beaches. She was but who needed to know that?