Flames

Loud Ginger Legend, part 2

"You are not driving that."

Becky jabbed Seth in the ribs as they both gazed up at the big rig emblazoned with her image and monikers. "And why not? My names are all over it." She ran over to the huge front tire and gestured proudly up at her portrait. "Look! They even got the jaw line right!"

"Because you barely even like driving a car, let alone something this size." Seth shook his head, and Becky wasn't quite sure if it was out of exasperation or wonder. "You need a special license to drive one of these, you know."

"Details, details." She did know that, unfortunately, thanks to Hunter's many pointed reminders. With the high, tinted windows, the RAW cameras wouldn't be able to get a good shot of the driver, so her official entrance would involve the driver—one of the WWE truckers who had helped relocate some of the equipment to the Performance Center for the empty-arena editions of SmackDown and RAW—doing the majority of the work and then ducking out of the way so Becky could hop down from the driver's side. "Think they'll let me keep it?" It was originally intended for her WrestleMania 36 entrance, but Stone Cold Day was almost as good, not to mention more fitting.

Seth laughed and pulled her in close. "Who . . . no, wait, don't answer that. I was going to ask who else would want it—except me, of course," he added hastily when Becky poked him in the side. "But I don't think I want to know."

"Stone Cold and I are practically twins now, you know," she beamed, standing back as the driver climbed up into the cab and maneuvered the large truck into position so it could be covered until it was time for the reveal. The Performance Center wasn't designed to be a full-event venue, so the skeleton crew was forced to multi-task and make a lot of adjustments.

"The resemblance is uncanny." Kissing the top of her head, Seth steered her into the building. It wasn't clear if he was going to get a segment, but Becky had a promo to shoot and would be closing out the surreal show with Steve Austin, so she had to prepare. "Just don't drink too much. I might be your designated driver," he quipped, "but I can't carry you and all the bags."

Becky gave him a playful shove. "Social distancing!" The news about the virus was changing by the hour, but her thoughts—and her worries—always turned back to her father. His health was already on shaky ground and with all the travel blocks in place, she might not even be able to get back to Ireland if she needed to. "If all the pubs are going to be closed, then I'll just have to celebrate St. Paddy's Day early with Steve, that's all." With a quirked smile, she added, "And you know I handle beer better than you do. Last time you had a Steve-weiser, you walked straight into a wall."

Seth rolled his eyes as he hugged her. "That was one time."

"Details!" Becky sing-songed. Then she sobered somewhat, resting her head against his chest as they walked. It felt so eerie to be on the precipice of a RAW taping and not have the usual hustle and bustle. The crew was in good spirits, but it all felt a bit like the indie days when you didn't even know if people were going to show up to the event. "Crazy, huh? So much has happened since we first came here. . . ."

"Championships, WrestleManias. . . ." Seth laughed a bit at that. WrestleMania 36 was still up in the air. The current stance was that it would also be held at the Performance Center, but there were rumours swirling about it being delayed for a more appropriate venue as well. "Us."

Becky knew her smile was probably a dopey one, but she didn't care. How many conversations had she had with Seth during their early days of training, talks that started with her drowning in tears of frustration? How many times had they given each other tips or exchanged work-out music? How often had she discreetly admired him as he was working out, not just for his body—although that had always been something worthy of appreciation—but also for his dedication and skill? Coming back to the Performance Center, especially if WrestleMania did end up happening there, should have felt like coming full circle, but to Becky it felt more like a fork in the road. These strange circumstances were going to alter paths and change plans in ways no one could possibly predict; some of the best moments in WWE's recent history had been born from improvisation, whether it was due to travel delays or unexpected absences and injuries. "We might not need to take time off after WrestleMania," she said as they reached the stage area and looked out at the rows upon rows of seats that wouldn't be filled. "I can't see Vince playing to empty arenas for long."

"Lynch." Hunter's harried voice made them both stop and glance back. He had a cell phone in each hand and looked like he needed a twenty-hour nap. "They need you in the parking lot so they can sort out some details for the truck entrance."

"Be right there." Becky gave Seth a quick kiss and ducked her head as Hunter barked out a laugh and kept walking, bringing one of the phones back to his ear. "Good thing social distancing wasn't a thing at this time last year. We would have either broken up—"

"Or really enjoyed quarantine." Seth kissed her again, lingering now that Hunter had moved on. "Catch you later."

"Don't forget I'll probably need a second shower after all the beer." Then Becky hurried back to the parking lot, marveling at how far she had come since her first days at the Performance Center. Main-eventing WrestleMania, working with legends she adored, falling in love: all those things had been dreams then, and she had made them real. If she could handle them, playing to an empty arena and possibly reinventing herself after this WrestleMania were nothing to fear. They would be opportunities, not obstacles.