Anger.

Confusion.

Humiliation.

Rok-C presses her forehead to the wall of the corridor and clenches her teeth. Her eyes sting as tears threaten to spill forth, so she shuts them tightly in a failed effort. Pounding her fist on the wall next to her face, a single tear makes a break for it, rolling over her cheek and disappearing along her jawline. She sobs hard, but only once. Refusing to allow her emotions to get the best of her, she turns around and places the back of her hand to her forehead. Lowering her hand, she takes a deep breath… reconciling the glory of defeating Miranda Gordy only moments ago with the embarrassment of her mentor Booker T’s actions… with the crippling anxiety of knowing that she’s soon to step in the ring with The Baddest Woman on the Planet in just a couple of days. Still fighting back tears and doing her best to control her breathing, there’s not much she can do to hide her annoyance when Matt Striker approaches her. Red in the face and sweating profusely, he creeps toward her with his microphone in hand. Using one finger, she wipes away another tear and composes herself, knowing that he isn’t going to be shied away easily. He snaps his fingers at the camera man trailing behind him and they quickly catch up to the scene and focus on Rok-C, ensuring that she and Striker are both featured in the shot.


Rok-C, if I may have a word… earlier tonight, you defeated Miranda Gordy in an excellent display of heart, honor, and skill… however, it would seem that the momentum you've built heading into your match on Vengeance with “Rowdy” Ronda Rousey might have taken a slight detour with the antics of your so-called mentor, Booker T.

She nods, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.


It’s no secret that he came into World League Championship Wrestling with you to be your guiding light… to help. Obviously, he played an integral role in you receiving your contract and–

Her eyes widen and she finally looks up to meet his gaze.


Wait, what?

She steps away from the wall, no more hints of whimsy or sadness. She just seems angry now.


I didn’t get my contract because of him.


I apologize for–


He helped train me and if it weren’t for him, maybe I wouldn’t be half the wrestler I am today… but to say that I’m only here because of him? That’s an insult, Matt, and you know it. I’ve put in the work. I have fought and kicked and scraped and bled for everything I’ve earned in this business… I might not have the best record in WLCW, but no one can say I haven’t done my absolute best.

Her bottom lip trembles.


No other woman in WLCW has competed in more matches than me. I beat the undefeated Su Yung. I qualified for the Queen of the Mountain match before that spot was stolen from me by Sasha Banks… but did I give up? Hell no. I got up, I dusted myself off, and I beat Dani Jordyn a week later… I beat Miranda Gordy like, an hour ago! Book can go off and do whatever he wants… if he wants to go to Japan and star in stupid commercials, that’s on him. Sure, it’d be nice to have him in my corner but… but he's not gonna be there when I stand across the ring from Ronda Rousey.

She holds her hand out in front of her and clenches a tight fist.


She might just be the toughest competitor I’ve ever faced… she’s a former UFC World Champion… she’s a legitimate bad ass... the Baddest Woman on the Planet, right?

Striker nods, sweat dripping off his nose.


I’m barely five feet tall… I’m just a little girl that grew up idolizing AJ Lee… I don’t have MMA training and… and my mentor has kinda’ given up on me. And that really sucks, okay? I probably shouldn’t stand a chance… I…

She shuts her eyes tightly and shakes her head before opening them and looking back up at him.


I can’t win.

She smirks and looks down at the floor. She offers a quick shrug.


I can’t… beat… Ronda Rousey.

She stands silently for what feels like forever, then reaches up and scratches her chin… thinking aloud, she speaks.


…but… what if I do?

Without another word, she turns and walks off-camera, leaving Striker to himself. He lowers the microphone to his side and pouts, watching Rok-C leave with a sense of whimsy and sadness all his own.

Fade.