Dorothy Oswalt

The next day, the moment I got to work, I went looking for Clint, the staffer assigned to me.

"Good morning."

"You're in early. Lina, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. The chair shot from Anne hurt a lot more than anything Olivia put on me."

"Hahaha. Strength is one thing, but your toughness is something else. Most wrestlers would be dealing with serious muscle soreness after a match like that."

"I'm young."

Had I said that a little too casually?

Clint gave me a look of pure disbelief, then laughed again.

"Pfft. Don't say that in front of the other wrestlers. You'll get an earful."

"Will I?"

"So what brings you in this early?"

"I want to grow my Star following a bit."

"Sure. How are you thinking of doing it?"

"Could we post my Star handle on the TPA board?"

"That's no problem, but you should upload more photos. There aren't nearly enough."

Photos… yeah, that was a little awkward.

Unless you were an entertainer, most men weren't used ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to taking pictures of themselves. I wasn't either — between the strangeness of photographing my own face and how busy practice kept me, I'd been neglecting it.

"I'll start taking some whenever I get a free moment. Three or four a day."

"Good. And follow some of your colleagues back, too. Especially the Dudley Boyz and the Hardy Boyz."

"Got it. I'll do that."

"Is that really why you came in so early, though?"

"I need to practice. Practice."

"You're something else. Of everyone who's come through here, you might be the most diligent. The rest of them could stand to learn a little of that work ethic…"

"The others will be here in about thirty minutes. We made plans."

"Ah. Right."

With that, I headed for the practice room.

A little later, Selma showed up alone — no Alf.

"Huh. Just you?"

"James and a writer were waiting at the entrance. They took Alf ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with them."

"That so? Go change first."

"Hey! Practice is the last thing on your mind right now? The board is going crazy because of you."

Selma launched straight into the board talk the second she arrived.

"Lina. You haven't looked at the board?"

"I looked. What difference does it make?"

"Wow. Unbelievable. Are you just that thick-skinned, or do you genuinely not care?"

I had looked.

There was more praise for my looks than for my in-ring work, and enough borderline sexual harassment that I'd closed the window almost immediately. Whether it was because I was a woman now or because of the male memories still rattling around in my head, I didn't know — I just couldn't stand looking at it. My mental fortitude wasn't weak by any measure, but ego-searching clearly wasn't for everyone.

"I meant what I said. It's not like I'm going to reply. It'll sort itself out."

"Tch. So basically you're just full of yourself."

"Just go change already. We'll stretch and run a match."

Selma's face went flat at that.

"Hey! Don't you have any muscle soreness?"

"I'm more or less fine."

"If you've got something good for it, share! My whole body is killing me."

"Which is exactly why you need to loosen up more. If it's that bad, just put some moves on me. I'll use it for selling practice."

"Damn it!"

Selma complained, but she still headed for the locker room at a quick clip.

I was stretching and working on my falls when James and Alf finally arrived.

"What did they want? Why'd they pull you away?"

"Next match stuff…. Hoo. Our next match is the Hardy Boyz."

Selma had asked, but it was James who answered, not Alf.

"Ugh. That's rough. You're gonna job, aren't you?"

"The finish isn't locked yet. They said they'll talk it over with the Hardy Boyz and get back to us. And for Emergency, we have to meet with the coaches. It's a No DQ match."

Selma lit up at that.

"Wow! Table spots, then. If we're picking, I'd rather Alf take more of them than you."

"Heh. I'll bring that up in the writers' meeting."

"Ha! Selma! You think you're getting an easy match? You'll be in the same boat. And I'm putting a low blow on Coach Bibi."

"You crazy little brother. Did you forget you're a face right now? What face hits a low blow?"

"Ahh…"

I was in the same position they were — none of us had a core storyline yet. Even so, the co-promoted Emergency match with NEXT looked like it was going to get a serious push. The Dudley Boyz still had a huge fan base, and a master-versus-student matchup would draw real attention.

A little later, Selma — who'd been needling Alf the whole time — got called over by the writing team. About twenty minutes after that, she reappeared looking miserable.

"What's wrong? Did you get your upcoming schedule too?"

"Yeah."

"Next week's match? Or Emergency?"

"Both. Next week I'm against Olivia, then the week after that I rest. And for Emergency, it's a triple threat with Olivia and Tyna for a shot at the IC Championship. Ugh! A technician alone is hard enough — now they've thrown a powerhouse into the mix. If I have to sync with both of them, I'm dead."

Selma in a one-versus-one-versus-one.

It was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠title shot, so there was a chance the writers would have her win. That would establish her as a rival on my level. Either way, just memorizing the spots was going to be brutal — which was probably why they were giving her a week off.

As for my own third-week match… still nothing. Not a word.

By the afternoon, wrestlers started drifting in one by one. Whatever wind was blowing, Dorothy showed up — and so did the Hardy Boyz. Other people had been scheduled for ring time, but once those three walked in, that schedule meant nothing.

"Clear out. We'll only need it for an hour."

At Matt Hardy's word, the current champion, Michael, climbed straight down out of the ring.

"Hey! Zealots. Get up here."

"Yes, sir!"

Selma got called over by Olivia and claimed the second ring.

"You know whose turn it is for the last one, right?"

Maybe if Natasha Bland — someone with a comparable résumé — had been around, it would have been different. But no one here could match Dorothy's stature or career. A few of the male wrestlers outranked her in seniority, but with the Hardy Boyz present, none of them stepped up.

Just like that, the three rings had their owners.

The idea that America didn't care about seniority was pure nonsense.

"Don't you need to warm up?"

"What are you, an amateur? Of course I warmed up at home."

"Ah. Right."

"You took a few kicks last time, didn't you? What do you want to work on today?"

"Dorothy. Can you lift me?"

"Huh? Me, lift you?"

Time flew.

I ran a short ten-minute dark match with Selma — no real need to sync anything elaborate — and at the house show I held a simple fan signing. On Sunday I went over to Selma's place and got treated to a massive dinner.

Danny Gonzalez and Lupita both came to the same conclusion.

"I hear Lina does a lot of mediating between them. Must be hard, handling what even we can't stop."

"It's fine. Manageable."

"Those two fight more the longer this goes on. It won't be easy, but take care of them, Lina."

"Yes. Don't worry."

"The youngest one is the most mature of the bunch. Learn something!"

"Mom!"

"If that kid would just sit still, I wouldn't mess with him either!"

Then Monday, the next card was announced.

There was a women's tag match, Tyna versus Anne, and other title defenses — but the three matches involving us dominated the board.

On the board, our three matches were drawing more attention than either the women's title defense in Match 6 or the men's world title main event.

"Olivia. How's Selma?"

"You were right. It was a little awkward at first, but she synced up with me fast. Her selling is good. I think we'll get chemistry on Thursday on the same level as what you two had."

"That's a relief."

Aside from power and promos, Selma had everything. I figured she'd work well with Olivia too.

"You two might just extend my career. Thank you."

"You've got at least ten years before retirement. What are you talking about?"

"I don't know. Will my knees last that long?"

"Just lose some weight. Drop down to what your profile says."

"Dieting? Easy to say."

Lately there was also a little lady who'd started coming to the practice room with her dad — Sarah Hardy, Jeff Hardy's second daughter. Her older sister Clara, seventeen and the spitting image of her father, supposedly had no interest in this world. But a twelve-year-old was already showing real curiosity about wrestling.

"Lina unnie. How do you get that strong?"

"Hmm. A lot of it's natural, but it helps to mix up your training day to day."

"What kind of training?"

"First, eat well and grow. And your dad's a legend, right? Just do what he teaches you."

"Dad only teaches me weird poses."

She put both hands up by her face and stuck her tongue out, mimicking Jeff Hardy's signature pose.

Aigoo. Adorable. Absolutely precious.

"Then how about learning some judo or taekwondo? It all helps later on."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. And if you have the time, parkour or gymnastics too."

"Okay. I'm starting next week."

Jeff and Matt watched us with open curiosity.

"Sarah definitely wasn't interested in wrestling before…. Looks like she fell for Lina."

"Hmm. Maybe I should bring my boys around. Might spark some interest that wasn't there."

Jeff had married a civilian, but Matt's wife was a former wrestler. He didn't care much about his youngest daughter following in the family business — but of his three ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sons, he hoped at least one would carry the torch. The problem was that none of them had any interest at all.

"You should bring them once, too. Leave Lina out of it — James and Alf are solid on their own."

"Yeah. I will."

When Dorothy was around, I worked with her. When she wasn't, I practiced with Anne. And with the Hardy Boyz suddenly showing up to train so often, I also got plenty of advice on cage matches.

I'd already heard some from Devon and Bibi, but what the Hardy Boyz offered was more useful to me. The Dudley Boyz were a power-and-chemistry team; Jeff and Matt built everything on technique. They'd also run plenty of cage matches and TLC matches as singles, so their tips were more practical.

"Rub some gel packs on your body beforehand. It helps."

"At least your gear is jeans and a sleeveless top — that should hurt a little less."

"Hardcore aside, a cage match is about using the cage. Even from a similar height, climbing the cage and coming off it gets a way bigger reaction than jumping from the top rope."

"Anne's experienced, so she'll handle most of it — but these matches throw out a ton of variables. Think through a few different scenarios ahead of time."

"Don't look scared. The cameras catch every expression."

"Yes. I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

And then the Thursday we'd been waiting for arrived.