Flames

Money in the Bank 2019, part 1

Becky didn't mind losing. Seth knew that. She was a competitor at heart and always had been, even when she had taken a break from wrestling. No one could stay a champion forever; they both knew that all too well. But the murmurings from Creative about how she was going to lose at Money in the Bank hadn't sat well with her. When he'd asked what the current plan was, she would only shake her head. "Does it matter?" Her voice wasn't even dejected; it was simply tired.

So he was waiting outside the office for her, phone ready in his hand in case she tried to send him a stealthy text. The Money in the Bank event was hours away, so neither of them had to be ready in a hurry. If she got bad news, he would hear her out and offer what solace he could; if the news happened to be good—which he sincerely doubted—then they would still have time to duck out of the arena to celebrate before they had to be backstage.

She didn't exactly storm out of the office, but he could tell she was upset. Her fingers clenched around her phone so tightly he could hear the plastic case groan and he leapt to his feet, prying her phone from her hand before she could break it. "Hey." Seth cupped her chin with his other hand to make her face him. "What's wrong? What did they say?"

Becky sighed and shook her head, looking back at the office door with a mixture of frustration and resignation. That wasn't a good sign. "I don't want to talk about it here," she said simply.

"Okay." Seth pulled her to his chest and held her until her breathing evened out. "The arena's empty except for the set-up crews. Want to go out there?"

"Sure." Becky mostly sounded like she wanted to be anywhere but there, but Seth kissed her softly before stepping back and snaking an arm around her waist.

They were mostly quiet as they walked out through the stage area and into the seating, heading up into the higher rows for privacy. Far below, crews were setting up the ring and the lighting, but up where they were was like their own little world. Seth waited until she chose a spot and then he sat on her right, resting a hand on her leg. "So what's up?"

"I'm dropping the blue belt tonight." Becky stared out at the lighting rigs for a long moment. The crew was testing out various entrances now, fine-tuning the timing sequences, and the shadows crossing her face made her expression even bleaker. Clenching her jaw, she snorted out a long breath. "It's not that I have to lose—okay, not entirely," she admitted. "If Charlotte was a double champ, she'd probably get to keep both belts for at least half a year before they made her drop one. It's the set-up. And it's stupid, because I know they've done this type of loss so many times before. I shouldn't be surprised. And I'm not. I'm just . . . tired, I guess. For all the talk of things changing, nothing really is."

Seth squeezed her leg gently, keeping his hand closer to her knee. He would comfort her however she wanted, but he could tell she wasn't in the mood to make out at the moment. "Let me guess," he said. "Interference by Lacey?"

Becky nodded. "So Charlotte will get another reign, but it's a token one since there's going to be the cash-in." She ran her hands through her hair. "And I'm not pissed at her either. They want to boost her numbers so she can beat Ric's record and . . . I don't know. It feels cheap to me. Char doesn't need to have victories handed to her. She's one of the best wrestlers in the company."

"She is." Seth was suddenly very glad he had been waiting for Becky outside the office and not Charlotte. Becky wouldn't mean to snap at her best friend, but when her frustration wore her patience too thin, her common sense could take a sudden vacation. "Is Bayley still the favourite to get the briefcase?"

"Yeah. They assured me of that, for whatever that's worth." Becky dropped her hands to her lap, sliding one over his. "So I guess that's the bright spot. She deserves another title run, and I think she'll really blossom on SmackDown. They're a good bunch over there."