The Plan

Chapter 33: Control

There was an unspoken rule in the WWE; catering was a neutral zone, it always had been. It was the one place backstage where there was no bickering, no arguing, and definitely no fighting. It was the one place where just for a little, everyone played nice....well at least tried to.

This is exactly why Rhea always avoided actually eating in the catering area, preferring to get her food and eat on the locker room floor like any sane person would do.

Unfortunately for her, Bianca and Naomi were not going for that which is why on the final Raw before Survivor Series, Rhea found herself sitting with them at one of the many tables in catering for the first time since she was a rookie, stabbing into her chicken like it personally offended her with a scowl on her face.

Bianca watched her with an amused expression, twirling her fork between her fingers. "You know, for someone who is only days away from getting her title back, you sure do look miserable right now."

Naomi snorted, popping a grape into her mouth. "She always looks like that. It's just her face." She shrugged.

Rhea rolled her eyes, jabbing at another piece of chicken. "I hate being in here."

Bianca smirked, resting her chin in her palm. "It's just catering girl. Not chow time in the pen."

"It might as well be," Rhea muttered under her breath.

"Listen, after what happened to Jade and after your little stunt last week, me and Naomi aren't about to let you walk around backstage by yourself, Liv or anyone else could retaliate."

"I don't need protecting." Rhea sneered. "I can handle myself."

Naomi just rolled her eyes playfully. "We know that. But just because you can, doesn't mean you have to. We got you Big Momma, now hush and eat your food."

Rhea sighed. She felt trapped sitting here. Not because of Bianca and Naomi, they were the only reason she hadn't flipped the entire table over yet. But because everyone else in the room was staring at her.

It was subtle, but she could feel it. Every now and then, someone would steal a glance in her direction before quickly looking away when they saw she had caught them. Then, they were some people like Austin Theory and Grayson Waller weren't even trying to hide it, continually sneaking glances over at her and chuckling to themselves just waiting for Rhea to do something unhinged, probably taking bets on how long it would take for her to snap and lose her shit.

And she knew exactly why.

One: Rhea Ripley would never be caught in catering. And two: she had spent the last week reminding everyone exactly who the hell she was and rumors spread fast backstage.

And now they were all waiting, watching her every move like she was some kind of caged animal that could lash out at any moment. Which honestly if they didn't get out her damn face, they wouldn't be wrong.

Bianca sighed, finally setting her fork down. "Alright, what's your problem today Ripley?"

Rhea raised an eyebrow. "I don't have a problem."

"You've been stabbing that damn chicken like it's Liv Morgan's face for the last ten minutes," Naomi chimed in. "And trust me, we get it. But you're here, you're eating, and nobody is trying you right now, so why do you still look like you wanna murder somebody?"

Rhea scoffed. "Maybe I just hate being around so many people who don't have the balls to say what's on their mind."

Her eyes darted over to Theory and Waller's table. "Or who don't know how to mind their damn business!" She said loudly, making the two men's eyes widen before looking off in the other direction pointing at something random with furrowed brows like they had been talking about something else.