SECOND CHANCE/ Rhea Ripley x Male OC

Welcome To Hell

It was a nice warm morning in Des Moines, Iowa, and someone was waking up. But who could it be? Jay? Rhea? Macgyver? Obama?

Let's take a look.

What we see is room, sunlight slipping through the thin curtains, illuminating the unmade bed where, amidst a pile of pillows and blankets, a hand lazily stretches out to shut off the alarm. It was none other than Rhea.

She groaned as the familiar beeping of her phone alarm pulled her out of a pretty solid dream—something about body-slamming someone through a flaming table. Not bad for morning inspiration.

Rhea: (grumbling ) Could've at least let me finish the match...

She sat up in bed, stretching her arms above her head. The hotel room around her was relatively quiet—almost too quiet for her taste. Usually, mornings were filled with Jay talking about his latest schemes, the dogs barking, or the general chaos of life. But here in Des Moines, it was just her and the ticking of the wall clock.

Rhea: Iowa... fighting Charlotte.. damn... at least I'm not in Cleveland.

She smirked at her own little joke, shaking her head as she shuffled out of bed, walking barefoot across the carpet to the window. Peeking through the curtains, she saw the sun rising over the flat Midwestern landscape. A calm before the storm.

Rhea: (yawning ) Let's get this bread... or belt.

Heading to the bathroom, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were a little puffy from last night's late-night study session of Charlotte's previous matches. Charlotte might be the Queen, but Rhea was ready to dethrone her.

Rhea: (talking to herself in the mirror)  You've got this. Just focus. No distractions. And maybe some pancakes later...

She laughed softly, knowing she had a long day ahead but feeling oddly relaxed. After all, she wasn't new to this.

After a shower and breakfast, Rhea settled down at the small desk in her hotel room. The smell of coffee lingered in the air as she opened her laptop, her fingers moving methodically across the keyboard. First thing on the agenda—emails. The usual flood of spam, promotional offers she never signed up for, and a few fan letters that had somehow slipped through.

She sighed, scrolling past the junk until she found the work-related emails. Updates from her agent, messages from the promotion, and a reminder about her scheduled meet-and-greet later that day. Nothing too surprising, but enough to keep her focused. One email from management stood out—a final rundown of her match with Charlotte.

Clicking it open, she read through the specifics. Tonight's match was going to be a big one, not just for her, but for the fans too. It was a chance to show the world what she could do against one of the top names in the business. She had faced Charlotte before, but this time felt different. The stakes felt higher, and so did the pressure.

But Rhea was used to that. She thrived on it.

Finishing up the emails, she closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair, staring out the window again. Iowa wasn't home, but in a way, the road always felt like home to her. Every city, every crowd—it was all part of the journey.

After a while she decided to grab her phone. After swiping through a few messages and checking the time, she opened the camera, tilting her head just right for a selfie. Her dark hair was still slightly damp from her shower, and the sunlight from the window gave her a warm, natural glow.

She smiled and snapped a quick picture, then adding a caption and tagging her location as Des Moines. She smirked as she uploaded it to Instagram with a simple caption: