Brawling

You arrived backstage from the hotel just in time to hear that you wouldn’t be on TV this week. Shit. you thought. I know I’m one of the best strikers Vince has got right now, why am I being wasted like this?” Your annoyance was soon replaced by the excitement of the backstage area. People were milling about, grabbing a bite to eat, running camera cables, and checking the lighting for the fortieth time. You weren’t known as one of the hardest hitters and shortest tempers at the performance center because you were laid back and patient. If you weren’t doing to wrestle tonight, you were going to have to find some other way of keeping yourself occupied.

A few minutes later, you were heading for the women’s locker room. A tall, beefy security guard barked out, “Hey, you can’t go in there!” Just before his face met your fist. Someone would be picking him up off the floor later. No one told {ring name} what to do. You didn’t blame the guy really, with the amount of testosterone running through the veins of the male wrestlers and the ridiculously skimpy outfits some the ladies wore, things could really get out of hand. But you weren’t a creep, you just wanted to talk to a one or two of the female superstars. If something should develop naturally from one of those conversations, that would be fine too.

As you entered the door without knocking, a chorus of feminine gasps filled the air. There were only a few ladies in the locker room at the moment. A lean young woman with a headband and a side braid sticking out from the top of her head tried to physically block your path. “Hey dude, you can’t just barge in here! What if one of us was undressing?” It was very hard to find Bayley the least bit intimidating, but she was just so damn adorable you felt a bit ashamed which had a similar deterrent effect. Suddenly a woman stepped out of the showers, wrapped in a towel with another one wound around her wet hair. “Let him stay, Bayley.” Said the woman. “It might be fun to have a guy in here for once.”

The other female superstars muttered a bit, then went back to their pre-match preparations. You were left in the center of the bench-and-locker-lined room with a nearly-naked superstar. Little gem-like droplets of water trickled down her soft, smooth shoulder. She gave you a mischievous smile and said. “What’s up {ring name}?

Who is it?