Charlotte Flair
The moment we landed in Washington, we headed straight for the arena.
The participants were immediately summoned by the producer and the writing team, so I took a seat near the commentary booth and watched them run through their practice.
"Selma, you're fourth overall. You'll be the first one eliminated from the TPA side."
"Got it."
"If you forget, we're in serious trouble."
"I'll remember. Fourth overall. First TPA elimination."
"Good."
Olivia, true to her size, was booked as the concentrated target of the other wrestlers — she'd help Selma out before getting eliminated herself. Big women rarely lasted long in these things anyway, and Olivia, well aware of that reality, accepted the role without complaint.
The elimination order was set that way. Surprisingly, the last two TPA wrestlers standing would be Natasha Blancherd and Tyna. The final four would consist of two TPA wrestlers, Chelli Green from Smash Down, and Mina Keynes from NEXT — with Mina Keynes taking the win.
I snuck a glance at Natasha's face. She seemed content enough just making the final four; her expression looked fine. Tyna, on the other hand, looked ready to grin from ear to ear. She clearly never expected this kind of spotlight. Neither had I, honestly — outside the scenario team, nobody had known.
She couldn't hold back the smile leaking out and had to cover her mouth with her hand.
I wasn't in the match, but just watching was enough to satisfy most of my curiosity. I'd always wondered how battle royal scenarios got written, and it turned out they only locked in the elimination order and the final four. Everything else was left to the wrestlers' improvisation and adaptability.
I was watching the women sync up their timing when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around — Charlotte Flair.
"Oh. Hello."
"I heard you weren't participating, but here you are. When did you get in?"
"I came with the other wrestlers. I'm not competing, though."
"Really? Then why not just rest at home? What are you doing here?"
"I was curious how a match like this actually gets put together."
Charlotte gave me a peculiar look.
"What is it?"
"It's a waste of time."
"Sorry? Why?"
"This is a special case, so they're running it as a battle royal — but WWO hates battle royals."
"Can I ask why?"
"There's no time for any individual wrestler to get a real spotlight. If you're going to put roughly the same number of people in for roughly the same amount of time, a Noble Rumble format is better. In a Noble Rumble, even if you get dumped in under a minute, you still make an impression just by walking out."
Listening to her, I finally understood why they didn't do it this way anymore.
"So you don't need to watch. Just ask the people who actually worked it afterward. That's far more useful."
"Understood."
The moment I answered, Charlotte grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
"Let's go."
"Where?"
"You haven't eaten, right? Come on, let's get food. WWO's catering is famous for a reason…"
"Ah. I've heard Eddie Bishop talk about it."
Eddie Bishop — former CWC director, and still a director after coming over — was always singing the praises of WWO's food. Anyone who knew that story couldn't help being curious, and I was no exception.
"One second."
I called Selma over from the ring and told her I was going to eat.
"Eat plenty for both of us."
"You're not coming?"
"If I put anything in my stomach right now, I'll throw up. It's already churning."
"Alright. Practice carefully."
"Yeah."
I finished talking to Selma and came back.
"That's Selma, right? She's pretty good. Her acting still looks a little stiff, but time will fix that."
"She has a bit of camera anxiety. But if you work with her in the ring, you'll be satisfied. Matt Hardy and Jeff Hardy both said she was solid."
Charlotte crossed her arms, thought for a moment, then spoke.
"Is that so? The Hardy Boyz gave her the stamp of approval? Hmm. The Inquisitors kids are her training partners too, right?"
"Yes. Selma and Alf are siblings."
"Hmm. If all four of them are at a decent level, the Dudley Boyz must have really put in the work teaching them."
"Both of them sparred with us a lot, too."
"D-Von I can buy — but Bubba? That's a surprise. I figured that filthy temper of his was a lifelong condition."
"Pfft—"
The sheer bluntness of the critique made me laugh.
The dining area we found was a fairly spacious room set up like a traveling buffet. Four male wrestlers were already there, none of whom I recognized. They could have been NEXT talent, or Smash Down jobbers. They widened their eyes when they saw me, but with Charlotte standing there, none of them approached.
"Do you starve yourself on match day too?"
"No. I eat less than usual, but I don't skip meals."
"Good habit. Later, tell your friends to at least grab a banana before they go out there."
"I will."
As I started picking out food, she offered commentary on various dishes.
"The steak and the lobster are excellent — make sure you try them."
"Ah. Yes. Thank you."
Mostly Charlotte talked and I asked questions — that was the shape of the conversation.
"By the way, why did you come today, senior? You didn't have to be here, did you?"
"I came because there's someone I need to see. He keeps dodging my calls, so I have to settle this today."
"Someone's dodging your calls? Who?"
Charlotte glanced around once, then lowered her voice.
"Paul."
"What? Why?"
"Because of a match with you."
"Ah."
"And since you're already here, perfect. We'll go in together."
"Ah. Yes, ma'am."
On television she always came across as pure ice-queen arrogance, but — same as last time — today she was nothing like that. She had more of a rough-edged big-sister energy about her.
After we finished eating, she asked a few staff members we ran into in the hallway and tracked down where Paul Levesque was.
She pounded on the door twice, then shoved it open before anyone inside could answer.
"We're in a meeting — who the hell is that?"
Someone who wasn't Paul shouted.
"Oh my. So this is where you've all been hiding."
The room Charlotte led me into held our TPA director Carl, Eddie from Law whom I'd met before, Ivana, Nikki Elders, and the Smash Down director as well. All the brand directors, plus Paul Levesque and two people I didn't know.
"Charlotte? Charina?"
"What are you two doing here?"
"I brought her, so don't start with her."
Charlotte pulled out an empty chair like she owned the place and sat down.
"Flair. Get out. This is an important meeting."
"Yeah. Wait outside."
A few people told Charlotte to leave, but she didn't so much as acknowledge them — she just locked eyes on Paul.
"How long were you planning to keep running?"
"Haha. Running? That's a dangerous thing to say."
Paul answered with a look of resigned inevitability.
"Should I say it so everyone here can hear, or are you going to listen?"
"Charlotte. You still have a rank to maintain. Absolutely not. No."
"Are you serious right now? I didn't even ask for anything unreasonable. I should have at least that much pull."
Charlotte's voice kept climbing, but Paul just chuckled and didn't budge an inch.
"Rina! This isn't working. Go grab a chair, a hammer, anything."
Questioning her here would have been idiotic. I had at least that much sense.
"Can't you just throw the chair you're sitting on? Or if that's too much trouble, should I pick it up for you?"
"Would you?"
Charlotte stood up, and I hoisted the chair over my head.
"Pwahaha. A threat like this? What is this, the nineties?"
"I had no idea the great Charlotte Flair had this kind of character."
"Looks like they asked for a match against each other."
"Hmm. The ranks don't match, but it could be entertaining."
Only then did the directors seem to figure out what was going on.
"Put that chair down. You're going to hurt yourself."
At Paul's words I looked at Charlotte, and she nodded. Only then did I set the chair down, and Charlotte sat again.
"Charlotte. Forget the rank mismatch — you two don't even have time to work out chemistry."
"We already did."
"What? Today?"
"No. Last Thursday, at TPA."
"Ah! When you said you stopped by briefly? But you left right after you got there."
Carl piped up in recognition, and everyone turned to him for an explanation. He provided one.
"Last Thursday, Flair showed up saying she was just dropping by. She said hello to me and left. But looking back, there wouldn't have been time for a match."
"Actually, I arrived at TPA about an hour and a half before I saw the director. I worked a match with her first. After that, I went to find him."
Carl and everyone else looked thoroughly startled at the news that they'd already wrestled a match.
"How did it go?"
"How many minutes? Did you film any of it?"
"You just went straight into a match with no practice? No botches?"
"We warmed up and went straight into a fifteen-minute match. No botches. The chemistry was excellent. So what's it going to be? Are you booking it or not?"
As she spoke, Charlotte pulled out her phone. The look on her face said that if the answer wasn't satisfactory, she was about to call someone.
"Who are you calling? Mick Flair?"
"No. Stacey. Or I'll tell Ayla or Casey."
Only then did Paul raise his hands in surrender.
"Leave my daughters out of this. Threaten me with them one more time and I might actually get angry."
"First and last time. I promise."
Paul rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, then answered immediately.
"Fine. Call. You'll face each other at Halloween Battle. Let's see how good you really are."
The moment Paul's confirmation landed, Carl looked thoroughly rattled. But the person who seemed even more shocked than our director was Smash Down's Nikki.
"Hold on — Charlotte is the face of Smash Down no matter how you look at it. Paul, this isn't right."
"Sorry, Nikki. But if Charlotte is pushing this hard, it's going to be a damn good match. Right, Charlotte?"
Charlotte answered without a shred of hesitation.
"The wrestlers working after us might start shaking. Whatever you're imagining — it'll be better than that."
Paul smiled, clearly pleased with the answer.
"Nikki, just trust her on this one. It's been a long time since Charlotte threw a tantrum like this."
"Haa. Fine. But I'm not giving up the win. Charlotte wins. Non-negotiable."
"Nikki, that goes without saying. No matter how much I like this kid, I have zero intention of having her job."
Paul waved his hand urgently, clearly telling us to get out already.
"We'll be going, then. Thanks, Paul."
"Excuse us."
Whew. Nearly had a heart attack.
Not a ring invasion — a boardroom invasion. I still couldn't tell whether all the veterans were like this, or if Charlotte was just a special case.
Once we were out in the hallway, I quietly asked her,
"Senior. That's it, right? We're done?"
"No. One more thing left."
"What? There's more?"
There was still something else?
Charlotte crooked a finger at me, as if it were obvious I should follow.
"Where are we going?"
"Shouldn't we go check on our kids?"
"Ah. Yes, ma'am."
I obediently fell in behind Charlotte.