Flames

Future, Tense, part 2

When the dog food cans were brought out at the end of SmackDown, Becky had been ready to turn off the television, but the remote was on the other side of Seth and she was comfortable. Plus if she had tried reaching across his lap, they would have both been distracted, which they couldn't afford; they had an early travel day tomorrow and needed to get some sleep. Before she could start to complain, though, the Usos ran down to the ring and rescued their cousin.

"Good to have them back, huh?" Seth remarked, stretching as much as he could with Becky cuddled up to his side. "The tag team divisions need a boost." After he shut off the television, he set the remote on the bedside table and tugged Becky down under the covers.

Seth wasn't wrong, but Becky still felt a pang. If the Usos were going to be on SmackDown, it stood to reason that Naomi would too. Becky found herself missing the SmackDown women's division more by the day, especially since RAW's creative team seemed to think that having Lana in a wedding parody counted as women's division content. "Yeah. I just wish we were all on the same show, though," she sighed, cuddling into him again.

"Roman and the Usos against me and AOP would be pretty sweet." When Becky didn't reply, Seth ruffled her hair. "What is it, Irish?"

"I just miss Naomi." That was certainly a big part of it, but Becky wasn't sure how to voice the rest. "I guess I just thought she and I could maybe go for the women's tag team titles after I lose Red, and now that won't be happening. Not unless there's a trade later in the year."

Seth kissed her forehead. "Nice try, but that's not it. Not all of it, anyway."

Becky didn't answer for a few moments, snuggling closer and hoping that Seth would let the issue drop. There were other ways to distract him, of course, but her moods showed up in sex just as much as they did in conversation, if not more so. "I feel like I'm treading water, I guess. I'm in the deep end, which is where I want to be, but everything that's happening—everything I helped build and want to be a part of—is drifting away, out of reach. And if I make the wrong move or go the wrong way, I . . . I worry that I'll never get back to where I was." Out loud, it sounded ridiculous, and Becky buried her face in Seth's chest, hoping he would take the hint and let her wallow until she finally fell asleep.

No such luck. Tapping out a random rhythm along her back, Seth kissed the top of her head. "Babe, you're not going to lose your spot. You're still one of the top merch sellers. Whenever WWE needs someone to represent them somewhere, you're still at the top of the list. Interviews, podcasts, appearances: you're on everyone's wish list. Whenever you lose Red, it's not like you're going to go to the end of the line and only have matches on Main Event."

"I'm just worried I'm going to lose everything I worked so hard for." She whispered the words so softly even she barely heard them over the soothing, steady beat of Seth's heart. Her birthday was was coming up; so was the anniversary of her first kiss with Seth, the sweet and strange stretch of time when they started dating. The past year had been, with a few exceptions, one of constant highs. Didn't it stand to reason, then, that the only way things could go would be down? "I signed the new contract, so now if they decide—"

"Stop it," Seth urged, pulling her up so he could meet her eyes. "They didn't re-sign you just to bury you—not at the bottom, and not at the top either. You know Hunter has faith in you; you how proud of you he is."

The earnestness in Seth's eyes, even though it was fogged by sleepiness, softened the edges of Becky's anxiety, helping her relax against him. But kind words and some kisses could only do so much, and as the weekend wore on, her insecurity fortified itself. Even though she tried to avoid looking at nasty comments on Twitter and Instagram, there were always some that snuck through, ones with subtle barbs or backhanded compliments. By the time Monday rolled around and she found out she once again wouldn't have a televised match, her now-familiar fears crept back in. I had my year. I was The Man, and now WWE's done with their little experiment and ready to go back to their formula blondes. Charlotte and Andrade will be the power couple Seth and I failed to be. And I'll be stuck here riding out a contract, buried in obscurity.

There was a glimmer of hope, though: a confrontation with Asuka. It wasn't as good as a match, but it was better than only looking into a camera lens. She was trying not to read too much into the subtle darkness and desperation Creative was gradually weaving into her promos, though. While she would welcome a proper heel turn, she doubted it was likely now that Seth was the Monday Night Messiah; if they wanted to keep her as a public face of the company, WWE wouldn't be pushing her storyline anywhere near his for a while.

The promo itself was good enough—not the most compelling, but at least it had something to work with—but as soon as Asuka came out, Becky felt her energy spike. Some of Becky's best rivalries might have been with Charlotte and Sasha, but Asuka's ferocity and cunning always pushed her to work harder. She didn't understand as much of the Japanese as she would've liked, but just watching Asuka strut to the ring was making more of an impact than some matches did.

And then she got to punch Asuka in the throat. Becky had to keep herself from laughing with manic delight: finally, around nine months into her reign, she was getting a true challenge. No more babysitting Lacey. No last-minute feud with Natalya. She was finally going to get the showdown she wanted. Maybe they aren't trying to sabotage me after all, she thought as she sauntered backstage.

After she did a quick interview, Becky went to the locker room and got her phone. Seth was on near the end of the night and she had just been told she might get the dark match, so there was no sense in packing up yet. Her phone flashed with notifications and missed texts, but one message in particular made her smile. What happened to punching ME in the throat for money? Sonya Deville had texted, adding an emoji blowing a kiss.

Between the punch and the text, her spirits rose a bit. This year might not live up to the last, but what could? She had fallen in love, main-evented WrestleMania, been a double champion, and gotten engaged, after all. But that didn't mean 2020 was going to be a barren wasteland. She would just have to make it her own, the same way she did when she became The Man. Win the Rumble, Becky replied with a wink, followed by a fist, and let's go.