CMO Karl Overdia
“You named it that on purpose?” Jane scolded. “What kind of name is ‘Charina’s Scissors of Desire’? The position’s already bad enough as it is…”
Anthony and Sophia immediately jumped to my defense.
“Rina’s gimmick is Gen Z,” Anthony said. “She’s twenty. Let her do what she wants.”
“It’s a little raunchy, sure, but it suits her perfectly,” Sophia added with a grin. “The fans will eat it up. Hell, some of the other girls will too. Plenty of them will want to take that move on purpose.”
“Sophia!” Jane snapped.
Sophia just patted my shoulder like a proud parent. “How is this kid so gifted? Improving a move is hard enough, but inventing a brand-new one from scratch…?”
“Thank you,” I said.
Faced with that reaction from Anthony and Sophia, Jane finally gave up.
“Fine. But fold the free leg a little more. From the audience’s perspective they’ll be thinking, ‘Why isn’t she twisting that one too? She could slip out otherwise.’”
“Got it. I’ll tuck one leg in.”
And just like that, the name of my second submission was locked in as CSD.
“Who’s this angel?”
“Taina said she was pretty, but damn. How about a two-on-two double date with us?”
The second the Thunder Storms—or Storm Boys, whatever they called themselves—walked in, they started hitting on Selma and me.
“Survive my finisher and I’ll think about it,” I said flatly.
“Finisher? What is it—Pedigree? Neckbreaker?”
“Testicular claw. Real shoot. Hold out for five minutes.”
“Mine’s a low blow,” Selma chimed in. “Straight kick.”
The mongrels turned around and left. Before they were even men, they were jobbers who couldn’t even make a PPV—and that was a thirty-man battle royal. Tag chemistry or not, as individuals these guys were pure jobbers.
No scripts had come down yet, but looking at how the match was set up, Jane was clearly planning to give the Inquisitors a win in their debut.
“You idiots! Where are you looking? Mat! Charles! Get your heads in the game!”
The practice session between the Inquisitors and the Thunder Storms was a complete disaster. The Thunder Storms couldn’t stop staring at Selma and me. Finally Anthony had enough and barked at Sophia.
“Sophia. Take Selma and Rina somewhere else.”
“Where am I supposed to take them?”
“Look at their gear, do yoga, I don’t care—just go.”
In the end Sophia only left after Anthony handed her twenty bucks.
“Thanks, Anthony. I’ll buy the kids ice cream.”
“Sugar-free.”
“Obviously. Come on, girls. Ice cream run.”
“Yes, Coach.”
We trotted after the excited Sophia.
The morning after Rina debuted the CSD—Saturday.
That evening TPA’s mid-sized New York venue was set to host one of the promotion’s four major PPVs: Hot Slam. It should have been a festive atmosphere. Inside the skybox, the mood was the exact opposite.
While the arena floor buzzed with final preparations, the air in the skybox hung heavy and still.
“So we didn’t sell out after all?”
“We’ll know once we see walk-up sales, but…”
The male staffer trailed off under the question from CMO and General Manager Karl Overdia.
“Good work. On your way out, send Finance Director Kingsley in.”
“Yes, sir.”
The moment the door closed, Karl stuck a cigarette between his lips and walked to the window. He looked down at the crew making last-minute checks on the stage.
TPA Hot Slam was one of the company’s four marquee events. Even so, they had only moved sixty percent of the eight thousand tickets. Walk-ups remained, but selling three thousand more by tomorrow felt like a fantasy.
Click.
He lit up and drew the smoke deep into his lungs.
“Damn it. This is why I can’t quit.”
How hard would the WWO NEXT talent invited for tomorrow laugh when they saw the empty seats? Even a minor NEXT PPV sold out fifteen thousand seats in a heartbeat. WWO itself could fill a hundred thousand. TPA couldn’t even fill eight thousand.
“Is it because the Dudley Boyz and Hardy Boyz both no-showed? Maybe we could have sold out this time. No… it wouldn’t have made that much difference.”
TPA’s real problem wasn’t in-ring quality. It was the complete absence of a true star who could pull eyes. A star…
Rina Cha. Charina.
That dazzlingly beautiful girl from the showcase video. If she had joined even one month earlier, they could have plastered her face everywhere. Everything would have been different. That single month hurt.
Knock-knock.
“Come in.”
The door opened on Finance Director Hailey Kingsley and Talent Development Director Harry Thompson.
“Harry came too. Both of you, sit.”
Karl took one last deep drag, then crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray with irritated force.
“CMO—”
“It’s fine, Hailey. How’s the cash situation?”
Hailey answered in a low voice. “We’ll scrape through this month, but it’s getting worse. The loan extension has to go through. No question. Principal repayment is impossible.”
“Figured as much. Hah.”
Hailey went on to list projected revenue and expenses for the PPV. On paper it looked like a wash. In reality, breaking even was the same as losing money.
“All right. Once we’re back in Orlando I’ll go pay my respects at the bank.”
“Yes. If possible, a meal with the bank president would help.”
“Got it. Harry—what’s your business?”
“I have a report.”
“Please tell me it’s not bad news. I’m already losing what little hair I have left.”
Harry smiled brightly. “Good news. Extremely good news. The kind that might even grow your hair back.”
“Thank God. Spit it out.”
Harry opened the laptop he was carrying and handed over a file folder.
“Yesterday James, Alf, Selma, and Rina ran a practice match. Here’s the footage plus written reports from Anthony, Sophia, and Jane, who watched live.”
“Let’s watch the video first, then the reports.”
“Best way.”
Fifteen minutes later the footage ended.
“Their ring work is solid. The referral fee wasn’t wasted.”
“Read the reports too.”
“Right.”
The reports were pure praise. Plenty for the newly rebranded Inquisitors tag team, plenty for Selma—but fully half of it was about Rina.
A raw rookie who still had the composure to watch the clock mid-match…
Every prospect Karl had ever seen froze under the pressure; botches piled up. One kid’s legs had literally shaken. That same kid was now TPA’s men’s champion—Michael Santana—four years later.
“Incredible. Not just technique and physique—her mental game is genius-level too?”
“Possibly. Take a look at Jane Kim’s report as well.”
Jane, together with Anthony and Sophia, planned to develop Charina as a powerhouse, a showman, and a stunt performer. Her alignment would be the rarest of all: a true tweener. Dark match next week, house show the week after, and the moment her theme song was ready she would get her official debut. The final line was a threat: if the company refused, Jane and the coaches would all quit on the spot.
“Powerhouse, huh. Approved.”
Harry looked startled by the speed of the decision. “You’re green-lighting it that fast?”
“Our legend is ready to walk if we say no. She’s not asking for a title shot—just an accelerated debut and a defined role. We can’t refuse that.”
“Ah. Two more things that didn’t make the written report.”
Harry clearly decided this was the moment to empty the entire bag.
“First is the hardcore match.”
“We agreed that would wait a year, didn’t we?”
“Jane wants it sooner. Ideally before the October PPV—she wants to crush the NEXT kids’ spirit first.”
“Win or lose doesn’t matter?”
“Correct. These four are special. They don’t care about the result. As long as they lose looking spectacular and cool, they’re fine with it.”
That answer was music to Karl’s ears. Most rookies had no sense of their place and only wanted to win. A beautiful loss stuck in fans’ minds longer than a lucky win. These four were seedlings worth watering.
“The Dudleys really did send them over properly trained. Their mindset is excellent. We’ll keep Anne as Knockout Champion for a while longer. She’ll be thrilled.”
Anne might flinch at a hardcore match, but she wasn’t dropping the belt. The story would actually lengthen her reign. A long-reigning champion appealed to both fans and rival promotions. From Anne’s perspective it was a win.
“Yes. Anne came from EAW—she has plenty of hardcore experience. I don’t know how far Rina will go, but no one else on the roster can take that match.”
“Good. We’ll do it Jane’s way. Next PPV we stomp those NEXT kids so hard they can’t even make eye contact.”
“Excellent call.”
“What’s the second thing?”
Harry reached into his briefcase and pulled out a long canister.
“Shaving cream? No… do people still put mousse in their hair?”
“It’s mint-chocolate whipped cream spray. Product from a company called Pomonai.”
“Mint chocolate?”
Harry shook the can and sprayed a dollop onto his palm.
“Comes out like this.”
Green cream studded with chocolate chips. Karl’s face twisted in instant revulsion.
“Disgusting. Why are you showing me this?”
“Rina wants to force-feed it to her opponents after she wins. She says Gen Z loving mint chocolate is just natural.”
“People actually like this crap? I’ve never seen my own son eat anything like it.”
Hailey cut in. “Gen Z girls really do love it. My niece goes crazy for mint-chocolate ice cream.”
“Seriously? Weird trends. Harry, so what’s the problem?”
“Pomonai might complain. Rina said she could just cover the logo, and that might even get them to offer a sponsorship. Jane and I are skeptical.”
Slap.
Hailey smacked the table and stood up.
“Do it, boss. Harry, we have to do this. How did Rina even think of this?”
“Huh?”
“What?”
“Feeding it only to losers is the negative part. She can eat it herself on the way to the ring too. Close your eyes and picture it. Rina with cream on her lips, licking it off with her tongue. How sexy and adorable would that look?”
Both men closed their eyes, imagined it, and turned red.
“That would be insanely attractive. Pure sensuality.”
“Yeah… with Rina’s face it would look incredible.”
“We hit the close-up every single time. Cover the logo just enough that you can still make it out if you look hard. Then we have the staff push viral clips on places like Stargram—and it’s game over.”
Hailey’s mouth had gone dry; she took a quick sip of water and kept going.
“If she only force-fed it after a loss, Pomonai could sue over the negative association. But if she eats it on her entrance and after wins as well, that problem disappears. And if a sponsorship offer comes in, it eases our cash crunch even a little.”
If Rina advertised something unrelated to wrestling, the money would be pure hers. This was wrestling-related. Contract split was sixty-forty. A two-hundred-thousand-dollar deal meant eighty thousand in the company’s pocket—enough to breathe. Interest payments, maybe even a token principal payment to show the bank good faith. That alone could open the door to a loan extension.
More importantly, once the advertising dam broke, more deals tended to follow. A few more spots and they might actually be able to handle a principal call. The entire vicious cash cycle could be broken in one stroke.
“At this point we have no choice but to push Rina.”
“Is there a stronger weapon in the world than looks? And her skills are elite too. Young, but her mindset is already excellent. This is going to explode. Give me the project and I’ll handle it cleanly.”
Listening to Hailey, Karl felt everything click into sharp focus in his head.
“All right, Hailey. It’s yours. Sit in on the scenario meetings with Jane now and then and throw in your two cents.”
“Yes, sir.”
In the space of a few minutes of meeting, Karl felt as if he had finally found a spark of hope. He didn’t notice it himself, but the permanent furrow between his brows had eased, and the corner of his mouth had lifted—just slightly.