The Calm Before the Storm

Figuring I shouldn't just walk in empty-handed, I grabbed a glass of ice water and knocked on Jane's door.

"Who is it?!"

"Senior, it's me—Charina."

"Haa. Come in."

Papers lay scattered across the floor, and a group photo of TPA hanging on the wall dangled with its glass shattered—whatever she'd thrown had done the damage.

She looked so furious I was almost afraid to speak.

"Um… here's some water…"

"Drink this and calm down? I doubt it'll help, but thanks."

She downed it in one go and started crunching the ice.

—Crunch. Crunch-crunch—

"What on earth happened? Clint was furious too."

Jane glanced at me, hesitated, then let out a sigh.

"Haa! You'll find out soon enough anyway… Sit down first."

"Yes."

Once I sat, Jane spoke again while still chewing ice.

"I'll cut to the chase. Bruce completely wrecked TPA! Totally!"

TPA was going under!

It was like a bolt from the blue.

What happens to me then?

Do I have to try out for other promotions?

I'd debuted, sure, but with the mission to become an Icon, this was clearly going to be a major setback.

"What? What did you say? So we're finished? Am I getting fired?"

"Calm down. Just listen first."

"But I'm about to be unemployed…"

"I said listen."

Jane cut me off.

"Yes."

"You know Bruce Stevenson is our owner, right?"

"Yes."

"Haa! Just explaining this makes my blood boil."

Jane drew a deep breath to settle her temper, then filled me in on the whole story.

The bottom line: without a single word to our general manager, Bruce had taken out loans using his entire stake as collateral—and the stocks he'd bought with that money had turned into worthless paper.

"Somehow Stacey McMahon found out and bought up every last one of the bank's claims. Looking at how she called an emergency board meeting for Monday, she's got to have secured at least fifty percent of the shares."

"So it's going to be an absorption—a merger."

Whew. So we're not going under after all. Is this actually a good thing?

"Probably."

"There'll be wrestlers getting laid off, I bet."

"Just the wrestlers? The staff too. And don't you worry. You, Anne, Selma—kids like you? WWO isn't going to throw you away. Young and promising? They'll take you for sure."

"What about you, Senior? You're not exactly on good terms with WWO."

"I don't know either. Whether I should stay or walk out on my own two feet. Ha! That bastard. If he'd just talked it over with us ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first, it would've been fine. We were finally starting to turn things around!"

I'd heard that my T-shirts, released after the match with Dorothy, were selling well—and so were Selma's and the Inquisitors'. Clint had said he'd be shocked when he settled the merchandise sales. And last Emergency PPV—it wasn't number one all-time in views, but with inflation factored in, it was set to be number one in revenue.

"So what happens from here? Can we know anything before the board meeting?"

"If WWO says at the board meeting that they're absorbing us, that's the end of it. After that we just follow whatever plan they set, so there's no way to know."

"It could end up like when they absorbed CWC or CEW back in the day."

Jane's eyes went wide at that.

"How do you know about that? That was before you were even born."

"I just looked into a bit of the old history."

"Did you? Well, for someone who likes Mick Foley and Jayco, I guess that tracks. But do you really think our size and in-ring quality measure up? We're smaller than CEW was back then, and not as good. There'll be plenty of layoffs."

I'd thought the company changing hands meant a crisis—but this was an opportunity.

"Senior. Is there any chance I could meet with Stacey McMahon or Triple J?"

"Hah. And do what when you meet them? Don't tell me you think you're big enough to change their acquisition plans? Or do you figure that pretty face of yours will do the trick?"

Jane snorted, half-mocking, as if she couldn't believe what I'd said. No—it was a sneer, but mixed with resignation and anger underneath.

Afraid of a misunderstanding piling up, I waved my hands quickly.

"No. It's nothing like that."

"Then what?"

"I just wanted to ask them to consider an Invasion angle, if possible. It's the kind of thing most wrestlers only get to experience once in their whole careers."

Jane narrowed her eyes and glared at me.

"You've already decided the merger's happening, huh. And somehow… you look excited about it?"

"That's a complete misunderstanding. I don't mean anything else by it…"

"Forget it. I hate Victor McMahon, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and I hate Stacey too. I don't even have their numbers, and I have no intention of reaching out. If you really want to meet them, talk to Bibi or Bon. Or Zetra, maybe. I'm not in the mood to talk anymore, so get out."

Her tone was as cold as the first time I'd met her.

"I just thought that if they ran an event like that, every wrestler would get a chance to shine. That maybe we could all go over without any layoffs. That was all I was thinking. If I upset you, I'm sorry."

"Get out."

"I'm sorry."

I apologized once more, bowed my head, and left Jane's room.

Ugh. The feeling I get is that Jane is never going over to WWO.

If she leaves here, she'll go to EAW.

If John Michaels had Triple J as his soul partner, Jane had her same-age partner, 'Incredible Kong.' A woman who still stood a hundred and eighty centimeters and weighed over a hundred and twenty kilograms. She was fifty, but she'd reversed her retirement and recently come back as both front-office staff and an active wrestler.

Jane leaving would really suck—but this is one of those things I can't do anything about.

Scenario Revision rights only revise scenarios. They're not hypnosis or brainwashing.

Pressing my fingers into my temples against the jumble of thoughts, I headed to the practice facility—and the situation there was much the same. Word had clearly gotten out.

The wrestlers who'd shown up for work were clustered in little groups, discussing the reality that had just hit them. Among them were Natasha Blancherd, Vanessa Wise, and Elizabeth Walker, who were in the middle of putting a new stable together. Natasha was rarely around at this hour—she must have rushed over the moment she heard the news.

"Ha. This is so frustrating. I just renewed my contract not that long ago."

"Best case, only the ownership changes and the promotion keeps running…"

"You think they'll just leave it alone? They'll cherry-pick the good ones and fold them into NEXT."

"Haa. If I'd known it would come to this, I should've found a way to work a match with Selma or Charina."

"True—those two sell so well they make their opponents look good."

If WWO starts cutting talent, Elizabeth as IC Champion will survive, and Natasha will probably get a pass as long as she doesn't pull any more outbursts. Vanessa, though—she's a strong candidate for the axe. And Lorenzo Barrera, who came up with her…

Listening to their conversation, I looked around for Selma. She was off in a corner with Olivia, Taina, and the Inquisitors—the people she'd gotten close with.

"Rina. Where'd you go?"

"You hear the news?"

"More or less."

I squeezed in and sat down among them.

"Ugh. What's going to happen to us?"

"Right? You kids are young enough you'll probably make it, but we're getting up there in age."

"If I were even half as good as you, Taina, I wouldn't be worried."

"No way. A powerhouse like you has way better odds than a dime-a-dozen type like me."

"Damn it. I really hate the idea of EAW."

EAW's booking was a mess, and they had way too many wrestlers. They were less than half WWO's size, ran only one show a day, and still had roughly the same total roster as all of WWO combined. Plenty of talent went a whole month without a single match.

Beyond that, what they were saying tracked pretty closely with what Jane had told me.

While I was listening to them talk, Coach Anthony walked in.

"Today's house show is cancelled. We're shutting the practice room over the weekend too, so don't come in. And keep your phones on—you never know what kind of call you might get."

"Coach! Have you heard anything ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else?"

"What's going to happen to us?"

"I don't know either. This is all they passed on to me. So don't ask me."

"Let's go ask the GM."

Someone suggested it, but Anthony said that before the board meeting, asking anyone would get the same answer—and everyone just sighed.

Staying here isn't going to produce any answers. It's a waste of time.

"I'm heading out."

"Rina, where are you going?"

"Home. I want to rest. My head's too full right now."

"What about the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weekend?"

"Don't know. See you Monday."

"Since things are like this, let's at least grab dinner together."

"I'd probably choke on it. I'm going."

I said my goodbyes and headed home. Then I sank into the sofa like I was burying myself in it.

A merger is definitely a big chance to make my presence felt. If I can stand out there, even if I go to WWO I might lock in a High Mid-carder spot right away.

But even if that happens—what about Jane?

She looked after Selma a little more than the other talent, but it was nothing compared to how she treated me. Whether it was because we were both Korean, or because she wanted me to surpass her—she never treated me like just another junior. She treated me like a niece. So of course I wanted us to go together no matter what.

And what if the intermediate Scenario Revision right doesn't take? What if the other party's consent rate doesn't hit fifty percent?

I sat there gripping my phone, turning it over in my mind for a long time, and finally made the call.

Fair enough. He was a WWO legend, but he'd left after getting cut—and here he was practically a king. Once the merger went through, even the great Bibi Dudley could get fired on the spot.

At that, Bibi seemed to exchange a few words with someone beside him.

I hung up with Bibi Dudley and immediately powered on my computer.

It was time to put the presentation skills I'd honed in university and the corporate world to work.

Time to cut a promo—outside the ring.