Memphis arrived at the arena for Monday Night RAW in Charleston, South Carolina. She had been practicing the fine but difficult art of staying positive all day. It was her fourth Monday Night RAW with the WWE and after a series of house shows and one stint on Superstars she was praying, hoping that she would get her big break on the big stage. It seemed like everyone in the world doubted her. The only way to prove herself was to get in that ring on live television and referee that match just as good as any of her male counterparts. All she was lacking was the chance.

Rushing to pick up the card and script that night from Production, Memphis' heart pounded with anticipation and excitement. As her eyes skimmed through the matches listed, her heart quickly sank. Once again, her name was nowhere to be found. Another night, another episode of RAW had begun and once again she had been left out in the cold. It was hard not to be disappointed. Sometimes she felt like Vince McMahon was the only one who believed in her but her lack of appearaces was beginning to make her think that maybe he did not.

"Tough break, huh?"

She looked up. It was her colleaguge Justin King.

"You could say that. It's alright, though."

Memphis kept a straight face, not letting him know, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how bad she was feeling at that moment.

"I just wanted to say, hang in there. It'll get better. You'll get your match."

"Excuse me?"

"I know what it's like. I've been in your shoes. I was refereeing down at FCW for years and I finally got the call for WWE and it seems like I waited for months before they actually let me do a live show. It gets tough. It's frustrating but it will get better. I just wanted you to know."

Memphis folded her arms. She couldn't believe his nerve.

"Are you being serious right now?"

He looked geuninely surprised.

"Yeah, I…"

"Sorry if I find it hard not to take you sincerely or seriously right now."

"What do you mean?"

"You guys have basically treated me like shit since I got here. The inspirational pep talk just seems a little unbelievable and misguided right now."

He looked down sheepishly at the ground.

"About that…yeah, that was kind of messed up. Look, the whole female referee thing is kind of new. It's different. It took everybody by surprise. I mean, we had heard about you in the Indys or whatever but nobody knew if it was a gimmick or what. Anyway, some of these guys have been working forever to get here and it's like you came out of nowhere and made it just because you're a woman, a good looking woman at that. I guess that's why a lot of the guys are standoffish. The wrestlers probably don't know what to think. They probably think that it is just another fad or gimmick. All I'm saying is, I know it's rough but people will come around. It will get better."

"And you're saying this because?" she raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged.

"Because I'm trying to be nice."

"Nice, huh?" she repeated. "Okay, well thank you. That is awfully nice of you, almost as nice as it was the day you guys placed bets on when I would crack and be out of here. What was your wager? Two months?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. He had been trying to be genuine but in the past he had been wrong and she had called him out on his bad behavior. There was nothing else he could say or do.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed.

"I'm sure you are."

He looked around.

"Look, I have to get going. I know you probably don't believe me but it is what it is."

He opened his mouth to say more but the words didn't seem to formulate. After a few more seconds of intense and awkward eye contact, he walked away leaving her all alone. She had stood her ground with him, letting him know that he, they hadn't intimidated or gotten the best of her. Memphis knew how important it was to keep up that tough exterior but sometimes it was like it was one big façade. On the inside, she was crying, dying, struggling to keep the faith and hang on one day at a time.

Sighing, Memphis wondered aimlessly around the arena. Usually she kept to herself, watching the action from video monitors near the production booth. It seemed to be the only place she belonged. If she sat in the Gorilla, everyone gave her the look as if she hadn't earned her spot there. Being in the female locker room was also super uncomfortable. It was a hard and lonely feeling when no one wanted you around. She peeked in Catering and saw several Superstars eating. Walking away, she ended up in the Green Room, which happened to be empty. Letting herself in, Memphis took a seat on the plush couch. Nearby was an open mini bar. Normally the talent and staff were not allowed to drink on the job but it wasn't like she was going to be doing much of anything besides her normal routine of watching from the sidelines. Reaching over, she helped herself to a mini sized bottle of Vodka. She opened it and took a big sip wincing as it burned going down her throat.

"Drinking on the job, huh?"

The voice startled her so much so that she nearly dropped the bottle. Standing up, she looked and saw the figure at the entrance. It was a man she had seen wrestle many times before but they had never met face to face.

"What are you doing here?" she nervously asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"My name is Memphis. I'm one of the referees but I, I'm not working the card tonight. I was just…"

"Getting sloshed? Drowning your sorrows?"

She frowned.

"You're not gonna tell, are you? I mean, I could get in serious trouble…"

"True but you knew that before you took a sip. You knew there would be consequences for your actions yet you took the risk and did it anyway. Why?"

"Excuse me?" she said defensively as he smirked at her.

"No, I'm curious to know. Let's just say Vince McMahon himself had walked in here instead of me. Would that drink have been worth it?"

His tone was menacing and condescending and Memphis had had enough.

"Whatever," she stood and tried to brush by him.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you, away from all this. Look, tell if you want to. I can't stop you and I'm damn sure not going to beg you. It's like everybody wants me out of here so bad anyway. Well, now is your chance. I screwed up. Why don't you go snitch and see what happens?"

He laughed out loud as he gently reached out and grabbed her arm, trying to stop her.

"Slow down."

"Don't touch me," she jerked away.

He put his hands up.

"It's okay. I was just messing with you. I have a weird personality and even weirder sense of humor, or so I've been told. That was just my sick way of having fun with you. I meant no harm."

She looked at him skeptically.

"So you're not gonna tell?"

"Hey, I'm no nark."

She exhaled a relieved breath, closing her eyes briefly.

"Well, that's good to know, I guess…that is if you're even telling the truth."

"Trust issues, much?" he questioned, backing off when he saw the fire in her eyes. "Sorry. There I go again. The weird personality and sick sense of humor I was telling you about."

"From what I've seen so far, people around here aren't exactly known for their integrity…or hospitality for that matter. Wrap all that up and call it a rib and it's supposed to be okay, right?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, the whole fresh meat syndrome. But this case is worse because nobody's ever seen a female referee before."

"Tell me about it."

"I've heard them. Talking shit, making bets, making jokes…"

Memphis cringed.

"Well, they can say or think whatever they want. This isn't high school or Sorority Life. I didn't come here to make friends or win any popularity contests. This is the WWE and it's my dream and I came to make a name for myself and change the face and game of professional wrestling."

"Then good for you."

He seemed like he was being genuine but she had let her guard down once before and mistook someone's kindness for later turned out to be the prelude for a mean trick. She had promised herself she wouldn't fall for something like that again.

"Okay, what do you want?"

"Come again?"

She rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"Why are you here? And who sent you? The wrestlers or the referees? And what do you have up your sleeve? What is your plan to harass or humiliate me?"

"You've got the wrong guy, sweetheart. Look, I enjoy a good practical joke as good as the next person but when it comes at the expense of another person, it kind of loses it's funny points, if you get what I'm saying. Anyway, I can understand your paranoia but relax. I was just passing by. Nobody sent me to do anything and I swear I'm not here to mess with you or do anything screwed up."

Still not one hundred percent convinced, Memphis stepped away and relaxed a bit.

"Sorry, it's just that…"

"People are dicks around here?"

She let out a small smile.

"Well, yeah."

"You get used to it. Phil, by the way," he extended his hand. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. My name is Phil Brooks and you are?"

She reluctantly shook his hand.

"Memphis Kramer."

"Nice to meet you, Memphis. I wrestle…"

"I know. You're CM Punk. I've seen you…a lot. I'm a fan."

"Flattery gets you everywhere. Wish I could say the same about you but I've only seen your work that night on Superstars. I did hear nice stuff about you though, you know, from your Indy days."

"From who?" she inquired.

"Do you know Nelson Lowe?"

Memphis thought for a minute.

"Oh yeah. We met briefly before. He's a cool guy. I did a show with him in Jersey, I think."

"He travels a lot on the Independent scene but does most of his work with Ring of Honor. That's where I met him. Anyway, he spoke highly of you and like I said, what I saw on Superstars was pretty cool."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. It was nice to discuss ideas and how things looked with colleagues but so far Memphis hadn't had that pleasure. She did not want to seem too eager but she was interested to know the specifics of his opinion.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You kept the match running smoothly, maintained the kayfabe, which is probably the hardest and most important part. You communicated the match to the wrestlers and kept it under the time limit."

Memphis shrugged.

"I could barely hear my earpiece but yeah, it went pretty well, I suppose."

"This place is a big game of hurry up and wait. Even with the wrestlers. Guys get called up and then they have to wait for what seems like forever to get their big match on TV. Don't worry. It will come. When it does, use that as your chance to do the best job you can and then stick up two proverbial middle fingers at your legion of haters and tell them where they can stick it."

She couldn't help but giggle. That did seem nice.

"Thanks, Phil. Listen, about earlier…I don't want you to think…"

"That you're a lush?" he teased.

"Well yeah. I know that you're Straight Edge in real life and all…"

"I am because that works for me. Unlike my character, I don't push my beliefs on everybody around me. You have to do what works for you. I didn't stop you from drinking because I'm Straight Edge. I did it because I don't want to give anyone else a reason to fuck with you."

She nodded, relieved.

"Thank you. That's nice of you. I don't why you're being so nice but I really appreciate it."

"Anytime and oh yeah, I hate a bully. Anyway, I have to wrestle tonight so I need to go change. Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Take care of yourself and try to stay sober," he made a bad joke.

With that, he was gone leaving Memphis all by her lonesome. It was a close call as she had given in and let her disappointment and frustrations get the best of her. As a result, it had almost landed her in hot water. She cursed herself. She knew damn well she had to keep her nose cleaner than that. At least Punk or Phil had walked in on her. Anyone else and the outcome probably would have been a lot different and a lot worse. Daring to think she had just made a friend, she shrugged it off and took it for what it was worth. He was being nice to her, genuine, and that was a start. Who would have known that the tattooed Straight Edge heel would turn out to be the most unlikely of allies? And Memphis needed all the support she could get.