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Lexi grumbled and mumbled to herself, and stumbled along the corridor just cuz she’s finally just about had enough of this crap. She blew a heavy sigh and looked at the time. The show continues on but she’s restless and decided to leave early. No, she isn’t hungry—as much as her stomach protests and says otherwise—and she’d really love to jump over to catering to take food back to her car for the long ride home but she isn’t hungry. Plus, she’d hate to see anyone else come along and trash on her show—as she already had the pleasure of hearing herself being the butt of everyone’s joke, especially the Riott Squad’s.
“Screw them,“ she said through gritted teeth, “I hope they choke at Elimination Chamber.” And she meant it sincerely, for she hoped that any team not named the Riott Squad would just take the titles away from them and run. It would serve them right after all for messing with Alexa Bliss.
And of course, most importantly, Alexa really wanted to get the hell out of the arena in case anybody else were to make one more remark about nudity or exhibitionism. Her unfortunate mishap on live television was still the most talked-about moment in the locker room, and every now and then she was still subjected to catcalls down the hallway.
When she really thought about it now, Alexa honestly wished she could say screw all of them, friends and enemies alike. Even that hunk EC3, bank account be damned.
But she was going to leave, head still held high. The Goddess would spare no time for inconveniences, despite her frustrations.
Alexa, trudging along her heavy purse and excessively full suitcase, was already outside when she heard a voice break calmly through the stagnant cold air. Alexa turned to find one disgruntled Irish lass sitting outside on a large A/C machine. She swung her foot back absent-mindedly—the one that didn’t wear the knee brace—causing the machine beneath her to bang with each kick of her heel. Two large burly men in suits were watching the door Alexa came out of, perhaps to guard it from being accessed from a certain Superstar.
“Please stop kicking the A/C.”
“How ‘bout you make me, Carl? Or better yet, I could kick yer arse instead. I already gave your buddy there a nice trophy.”
The one who wore a pretty nasty cut on his face, Alexa had noticed, looked like a hurt puppy who could only rub the back of his head in shame.
Yup, it looked like The Man had indeed come around. But her long-awaited return had met its unruly end as soon as it started, and it would most likely be the last time that she’d ever be on Raw again. As pleased as Alexa would have been at the misfortunes of others, especially when it concerned her old rival, the idea of Becky being suspended indefinitely was not very pleasing to her.
In fact, it wasn’t a very pleasing thought at all for Alexa Bliss, if she really had to be honest with herself.
Honesty? Compassion? And Alexa Bliss? The three did not mesh very well together. Sooner than she had noticed, however, she was caught dwelling over the notion, and glancing at her old rival.
“Hey, Dumbo. How was the show?”
Alexa rolled her eyes at the old nickname—what a nice throwback to their old spitfire insults from back in the day.
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” she said. Alexa really couldn’t be bothered with these games right now, especially when both Raw and her show had been a bust altogether.
It didn’t stop Becky though, not one bit.
“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t really care about your show, either. A Moment of Piss, was it?”
Becky chuckled dryly—Alexa had guessed that she was also one for being easily pleased with herself, too. Alexa would have noted how similar they were in that regard, but frankly she couldn’t give a damn either way after what happened tonight. She turned her heel, dragging her heavy luggage once more.
To hell with it all, she thought bitterly.
Things could have been much simpler if she had simply just gotten rid of Ronda Rousey easily. Yes, Alexa thought, that was it. This was all that over-hyped rookie’s fault. If it weren’t for her, she would have still been Raw Women’s Champion. If it weren’t for her, Alexa would never have gotten injured, or filled with self-doubt. And that of course created a huge domino effect in the months since facing Rousey. Granted, Alexa had bounced back like she always did. But her entry into the Royal Rumble ended up being a bust, despite much applause and adulation from the crowd. And teaming up with useless Mickie for a chance at the tag titles was a failure as well.
Goddammit, even her show was a huge dud.
But there was no way she’d let Becky Lynch, of all people, get her down. No freaking way.
But then, she felt a hand stops hers on her suitcase and a hobbling Becky was distracting her from all of the misfortunes she had endured for the past several months.
The Man smirked, as though expecting Alexa’s surprise.
“You’re not nearly as entertaining when you’re down in the dumps, Lexi.”
“Well, you’re being nice.“
“I’m being useful,” she corrected. “Take it for what you will, but I have to hitch a ride to Smackdown somehow and you’re the first person out of this building so far.”
“Oh hoh hoh hoh, you’re begging me now?”
“I’m asking nicely.”
Alexa narrowed her eyes at her, a suspicion hanging onto her. It grew with every second that passed trying to judge Becky’s words carefully.
“You know what? I’d prefer if you begged me.”
She scowled. “Don’t push it, Lexi.”
“Either way, why would I even do this for you? I hate your stupid guts.”
Becky smiled at her, as though she were sharing a secret. “Is that how you really feel, lass?”
Alexa shrugged. “Shouldn’t I?”
Becky only looked at her.
This was weird, she thought, but goddamn her if she didn’t have a penchant for weird. Asking nicely was out of left field for Becky, and any other time, Alexa would have loved to have taken advantage of an opportunity like this. But unfortunately for the both of them, she’d have to satiate her own need some other day.
“Becky, I’d love for you to waste more of my precious time, but I’m going home.”
“I guess you didn’t like me punching Boss Lady in the face very much, did ya now?”
“Trust me, she had it coming.”
And it was true, despite Stephanie McMahon giving Alexa her own show. But as far as she was concerned, Stephanie left her for the wolves, and probably couldn’t care less about the girls in the locker room. Not unless it had something to do with the Women’s Revolution she supposedly ‘created’.
“But whatever it is you’re planning on doing at Smackdown,” Alexa continued, “I’m not interested. The last thing I want is to get suspended like you did.”
“Ah, so Little Miss Bliss is afraid then.”
“Little Miss Bliss is tired. Bye now.”
Turning to leave, she could almost hear Becky smiling through her teeth when she spoke, and a spark of irritation began anew.
“Geez,” she heard her mutter, “you’re in a shittier mood than I thought.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, you look like you need some food for thought.”
“That’s not what you said at all and you know it—"
“I’m buying.”
Alexa blinked.
“What?”
“Food, Dumbo. I’m buying.”
Alexa narrowed her eyes at the other girl, who merely shrugged. Her stomach growled in protest, and in quiet appreciation. Becky’s knee buckling didn’t go unnoticed to Alexa, either.
She sighed.
“Fine.”
And so, the two went to have dinner together.
Alexa was driving, of course. She wasn’t feeling daring enough to let poor Becky Lynch drive with her injury, despite denying that she was hurt. Stubbornness was Becky’s middle name and sure, perhaps Alexa felt sympathetic because truth be told, she wasn’t exactly 100% either, even after months of physical rehab.
And as much as Becky liked to lie about it, Alexa knew exactly where she was coming from. Injury or not, she wasn’t going to stop now that she had the whole world in her hands, and a huge opportunity to make history at WrestleMania in the main event.
And for that, Alexa was insanely jealous.
After all, she wished she could have won the Royal Rumble last week, but Ronda Rousey was definitely someone that needed to be feared, and Alexa didn’t think she had the wherewithal to face her again after back-to-back concussions caused by said woman—at least, not without a helping hand.
And if that armbar was anywhere near as destructive as Rousey’s warpath was, Alexa knew a certain someone who had an armbar of her own that was even more devastating than Ronda’s. And she could attest to that first hand.
Which was why it incensed Alexa to no end when everyone was telling The Man to go see the doctor. For one, it was a fruitless task, and a huge waste of time if they knew what she was all about. Not to mention, Alexa knew the girl too well. She wholly understood Becky’s complete refusal to follow orders from the Authority.
Alexa, after all, was in the same predicament once before.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t eager to see her come back as soon as possible, especially with that injury of hers, so of course when she noticed Becky favoring her knee again, she had to pry.
“So, how bad is it?”
“What.”
“You know ‘what’. You can’t fool me, y’know.”
Becky shrugged. “La Luchadora fooled ya once before, remember?”
“Yeah,” Alexa grumbled, “who could forget that god awful costume?”
“Says Harley Quinn here.”
“Oh, whatever! Need I remind you that I wasn’t the only one who cosplayed? It’s like you conveniently forget that you used to dress like you were at a science fair during the turn of the century.”
The other girl said nothing. Instead, she looked out the window. Alexa peered at her in her peripheral vision. She liked to imagine amidst the streaming lights of the road beyond that Becky was staring at her grandest prospect of all—the one that she had before there was a Becky vs Alexa feud, before there was a steampunk Becky Balboa.
It was a match that was so close, yet so far away. If only her knee would allow her the chance to accomplish her dream. But right now, that opportunity seemed farther still with each day she was in suspension.
In the corner of her eye, Alexa could see even now that Becky was smiling, and it reminded her of her old Lass Kicker days. But regardless of whether she was the Lass Kicker or The Man, Alexa realized that they were both one in the same, defined simply by their determination to keep fighting, despite overwhelming odds.
So Alexa didn’t mind if Becky couldn’t be honest with her, of all people. She would settle for the silence, and instead give her a peace offering.
“There’s a first aid kit in the glove compartment with an ice pack in it. Help yourself.”
Becky gave her a look that was almost akin to the look that Mickie gave her once not too long ago. Disbelief during a time of chaos and absolution.
Alexa shrugged, pulling the covers back slightly. “If you want it.”
She felt an uncertainty weigh heavily between them. But if Becky were to acknowledge Alexa’s strange behavior, that would have also meant acknowledging that it was she who had suggested going out for dinner, and Alexa didn’t think Becky’s actions were something Becky needed to overanalyze.
So she wouldn’t hesitate to accept the ice pack.
“You want some Advil, too?”
“I’ll slap your head off, Lexi.”
Alexa couldn’t help but smile.
It had been far too different from her reaction back at the invasion of Raw three months ago.
She had ran out of there in a haste. Of course she was in no shape to compete but she also knew that it didn’t matter to The Man. She would not be spared in the invasion if she were in its crosshairs.
Being captain of the Raw women’s team didn’t help matters much either.
But when she saw the rest of the girls from Smackdown swarm into the ring, she knew she had to make it out of there alive. Or every one of those girls would target her.
Becky included.
So of course she had taken the coward’s way out and ran—at least as far as her stilettos would allow her to—but not before meeting The Man’s killer stare.
“Miss me?”
She hadn’t come after her like she thought she would, but someone else would be coming after Becky. Then just minutes later, that was exactly what happened, as the blood started to pour on her face, and onto the ring.
She had heard soon after that Becky got hurt in the scuffle. She still remembered the cuts and bruises that Nia had on her knuckles as she bragged about breaking Becky’s face.
Of course, Alexa thought. Leading an invasion like that always had consequences, and much more when it came from a couple of second rate superstars who couldn’t possibly compete against anything the Goddess had planned for Survivor Series.
But Alexa continued to think throughout that entire night, damn that woman. Becky should have known better, Becky should have been more careful, Becky should have stopped before it got any worse. Becky should have done a lot of things, she realized. But Alexa had almost forgotten that this was The Man she was talking about.
She had stood tall, broken face and all, and destroyed everyone.
The aftermath of the invasion was still felt in the locker room since that night. If nobody knew who The Man was before, they did now.
Alexa should have been upset, but when she had heard how furious Ronda Lousy was after it happened, she grinned.
Because her old rival had accomplished something even she couldn’t do then, and that was to make a glorious statement against those that were in her way.
And she fought trying.
For all that she had ever said or ever felt about the Irish Lass Kicker back during their past feud—everything from believing she was born to be a loser to being an undeserving champion—Alexa had to admit that she admired Becky’s tenacity as a wrestler.
She could even say she liked Becky.
Alexa blinked at Becky now, who after ordering sweet potato fries was too busy shoveling them all in her mouth. The former looked on with a scowl on her face, and hardly touched her own food.
Because she, Alexa Bliss, five-time Women’s Champion, the Wicked Witch and Goddess of WWE, was actually fond of Becky Lynch.
What? When? How?
All of these unanswered questions meant that she was suddenly faced with the conclusion that she may have been wrong about Becky the entire time.
And the implications of that, Alexa realized, was not something she was ready to think about. Becky was good, but she wasn’t that good. There was no way would she take advantage of this situation.
At least, not without turning the tables on her, too.
“You disgust me,” she said out of nowhere.
“Yo’ face is discootin’.”
“I’m serious. What kind of game are you playing at?”
The other girl swallowed her mouthful of fries, “Lexi, for once take your own advice and just calm down. This isn’t 2016. We’re not feuding anymore. In fact, we’re doing the opposite.”
“And that is?”
She shrugged. “Whatever it is that’s keeping you from strangling me.”
“Yet.”
“See? We’re bonding.”
“You aren’t the only one that can slap people’s heads off, Becky.”
“Would you really if it meant slapping my pretty face?”
“And The Man doesn’t bond with anyone as far as I’m concerned. She stabs people in the back.”
“Funny how when Charlotte stabbed me in the back, nobody batted an eye. But when I do it, I should be crucified for it. And for your information, I looked her in the eyes when I did it.”
Alexa laughed. “You think that makes a difference in my book? You did what you did because it suited you. Let’s not kid ourselves Becky.”
“I did what I did because I was in someone else’s shadow. I wanted to be champion.”
“Just like me.”
Becky’s complacency dropped.
But Alexa merely shrugged. To insinuate Becky was no different from her was a dangerous revelation, and was a near reversal of what she had told her years ago before their first match against each other. Becky, who had been in her way from achieving greatness at one point, and had cast a large shadow over Alexa until her eventual victory over the Lass Kicker, was the underdog—was the people’s champion.
And she still was. But she had been held back by shackles that she didn’t even know she had.
But it was just like Becky had said. It wasn’t until that referee had counted to the count of three that she eventually woke up from her trance.
Alexa had been there before. She was, after all, in NXT with Becky. And glitter and sparkle, Alexa eventually realized, could only take one so far towards one’s dream.
“We aren’t the same, Lexi. You said so yourself.”
“Of course we’re not. I would never wear that gross hair color,” Alexa said, noticing that she was playing with straight fire. But she paid no heed. Let it burn her. “My point is you and I are like birds of a feather. Hell, from our championships down to our stupid injuries. Nice to know you finally took a page out of my book, by the way.”
The Man gripped the table between them.
“Aw, did I hit a nerve or something?”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t murder you right now in front of these people.”
“There’s no need to get defensive, hun. It only took one of us to finally see the light years later. About time if you ask me.”
Becky stared at her, death still sitting at the edge of the door, armed and ready with a butter knife. Alexa sighed.
“Because maybe you’re right,” she said. “Maybe I don’t want to strangle you every single minute of every day. And maybe you don’t either.”
Becky scoffed, and Alexa liked to think they were finally making a connection, albeit grudgingly.
“Plus, there’s other people that deserve your wrath better than me, and we both know that who that is.”
\
After their dinner, Alexa had agreed that she would take Becky to Smackdown.
“On three conditions.”
“That’s greedy if you ask me.”
“One for each hour it’ll take to get to your dumb B-show.”
Becky rolled her eyes, “Go ahead.”
“One, you better fix that stupid knee.”
“Not like I haven’t been doing that before.”
“Nice to know you’ve started early then. Two,” she continued, “you owe me at least one appearance on my show.”
“A Moment of Piss?”
“Bliss, goddamn you. A Moment of Bliss.”
“I know, I know,” Becky said, hands up defensively. “Fine, alright. And three?”
Alexa dropped her smile, as a certain energy took a hold of her and threatened to overtake her entire being. It was not unlike the wrath of a thousand suns wrapped up in a tiny little ball of fury.
“Beat her.”
Becky grinned.
“Oh, I intend to, lass.”
“Good.”
She stepped closer towards counterpart, not minding any sort of protest from her. But she had found none, and of course she wouldn’t. Because as much as The Man liked to talk violence, she also reserved a small spot for her as well, and Becky had relished the mere-centimeters space between them.
“Because if you don’t,” the Goddess continued, “you won’t hear the last of me.”
The Man chuckled. “I figured seeing me coming back on Raw meant you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me. Don’t ya worry, Lexi. Once this is over, I’ll be coming back for your pretty little face.”
“I look forward to it.”
She stuck her hand out, to which Becky took, and shook on it.
“Kick some ass, hun. And say hi to Hunter for me.”
She winked. “Will do.”
When Alexa left, she had felt a sense of pride overcome her, but not so much at the prospect of finally being on Becky's good side.
But because she had managed to gain the trust of one Man. Or so she thought.
And at that, the Goddess smiled wickedly. Perhaps she would take advantage of this opportunity, after all.
//