The energy in the arena buzzed like static as Cody and I strolled down the backstage hallway at Saturday Night Main Event. The low hum of voices, the echo of boots on concrete, and the occasional clank of production crates filled the air. We weren’t looking for trouble—we never were. But trouble had a way of finding us.
That’s when I saw them—John Cena and Jey Uso standing near one of the production crates. Jey had the World Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder, and Cena… well, Cena was being Cena. That smug look on his face always meant he was up to something. “You know,” Cena was saying, his tone dripping with mock sincerity, “it’d be real interesting if Logan Paul walked out with that title. Real shake-up for the industry.”
I slowed my pace. Cody glanced at me, already sensing my shift in energy. Then Cena leaned in slightly toward Jey, lowering his voice just enough to be threatening. “Sounds like that would almost ruin wrestling.”
Jey’s jaw tightened. That was it. I stepped up without hesitation, placing myself right at Jey’s side. “Try it, Cena,” I said, voice low and cold. “Go ahead. Interfere in that match tonight, and I will stop you. I don’t care how many movies you’ve made or how many shirts you’ve sold. You mess with the integrity of that title, you answer to me.”
Cena raised his eyebrows, grinning like I’d just told a cute joke. “Whoa,” he said, putting his hands up slightly. “You always this dramatic, or did I miss your audition for the next superhero flick? I’ve beaten and broken you before but you still haven’t learned, have you?”
I didn’t flinch. Not even a blink. Then I felt Cody step up beside me. Not a word. Just him, tall, calm, and full of quiet fire. He folded his arms and fixed Cena with a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. The kind of stare that said, Don’t push it.
Cena’s grin faltered just a little. A pause. Hesitation flickered in his eyes. But of course, he couldn’t help himself. “You two make a cute duo,” he muttered before turning on his heel. “Watch your backs,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked off. I glanced at Cody and gave him a smile. Not a huge one—just a quiet flash of appreciation. He returned it, subtle and knowing. That was the thing about Cody and me. We didn’t always have to speak to understand each other. Jey turned toward us fully now, adjusting the strap of his title. His expression had softened just slightly, but there was still the weight of responsibility in his eyes.
“Yo,” he said, “I appreciate that. Both of you.”
I nodded and held out my fist. “You’ve earned that title, Jey. We’re not about to let anyone make a joke out of it.”
Cody lifted his fist beside mine, and Jey looked at both of us for a moment—then he bumped our fists with a slight grin. “I know I haven’t worked with you before,” he said, looking at me first, “but I see you. We all do.”
That surprised me. I blinked, then tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
Jey’s gaze flicked between us, voice steady. “I’ve seen the way you two carry yourselves. You don’t back down. You stand up when it counts. You protect people—even when it puts you in the line of fire. Loyalty like that?” He nodded slowly. “It’s rare in this business. People feel that.”
I swallowed the lump that formed unexpectedly in my throat. “Thanks, Jey,” I said quietly. “That means a lot.”
Cody added, “You can count on us tonight. We won’t let him ruin wrestling—or your moment.”
Jey looked between the two of us again, then gave a small smirk. “With you two in my corner? I believe it.”
As he walked off, I let out a slow breath I didn’t know I was holding. Cody bumped his shoulder lightly into mine. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, glancing down the hall after Jey. “It’s just… weird, you know? People I have never even talked to… and they already know who I am.”
Cody gave a small chuckle. “That’s because you’ve made a difference. Like Jey said, and like Michael Cole has said before, the kind of loyalty and fire you have is rare here. Everyone here has been betrayed or has betrayed someone, so you’ve shown people…shown me, what being a true friend is all about and that’s something no one can ever take away.”
I looked at him again, this time really looked. The American Nightmare. The girl with wings. No, we didn’t blend in. We never did. But that was the point. “Thanks, Code. Let’s keep doing it,” I said. “Let’s keep being the reason people still believe.”
Cody nodded, a fire lighting behind his eyes. “Damn right.”
And with that, we kept walking—toward the next match, the next fight, the next moment where someone needed us. Because that’s what we did. We showed up.
The match had barely started, but I was already standing. Jey’s music had hit minutes ago, and I could feel the tension in my chest. The World Heavyweight Championship was on the line, and Logan Paul—walking headline and walking ego—was trying to claim it. Cody and I were backstage, just behind the curtain, watching the screen like hawks. The air was thick, like the calm before a thunderstorm, and we both knew exactly who the thunder was. “Think Cena shows up?” Cody asked, arms crossed over his chest, eyes sharp but calm.
I snorted. “Please. You think he’s gonna resist being the center of attention? That man can’t even walk past a mirror without cutting a promo.”
Cody chuckled, shaking his head. “You're not wrong. The man basically lives inside a ‘Never Give Up’ Hallmark card.”
“I swear, if he walks out and starts quoting Fast & Furious again, I’m gonna lose it,” I muttered, then threw him a glance. “And don’t say it.”
Cody lifted both hands innocently. “I wasn’t gonna say it.”
“You were absolutely gonna say ‘It’s about family’,” I accused, narrowing my eyes.
He grinned. “Well…it is about family.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t,” he replied, nudging my shoulder.
I bumped him back. “Yeah, well. I like you better when you’re beating people up.”
On screen, Jey and Logan had started exchanging blows. The crowd was red hot. Jey landed a superkick that made me punch the air. “LET’S GO, JEY!” I shouted, even though he couldn’t hear me. Cody grinned.
“You’re getting invested,” he teased.
“Yeah? So are you. Don’t think I didn’t see you pacing earlier like an anxious dad waiting on SAT scores.”
“I just like seeing the good guys win.”
A pause, then I looked over at him and softened my voice. “So do I.”
Just then—
CRACK.
The screen shifted. “Son of a—” I growled. Cena had stormed in like the second coming of Hollywood ego and blindsided Jey with a clothesline from hell. Before I could even think, I was already running.
“Angel, wait—!” Cody called, but his voice wasn’t trying to stop me—it was following. I hit the curtain hard, nearly tore it down in my rush. My boots pounded the ramp. I heard Cody close behind me. The arena exploded as we burst out. Cena didn’t even have time to process it before Cody was on him, driving him down with a vicious Cross Rhodes. The crowd roared. I scanned the ring—and my stomach twisted. Logan Paul. Brass knuckles. Eyes locked on Cody’s back.
“CODY!” I screamed. He turned just in time, ducking under the swing and rolling out of the way. Logan stumbled. Jey rose like a vengeful ghost behind him.
BOOM. Spear.
ONE. TWO. THREE.
The bell rang, the crowd detonated, and Logan looked like he’d been hit by a train. Cody grabbed a mic, chest heaving with adrenaline. I dropped to the floor outside the ring, wings spread wide. I didn’t have a mic—I didn’t need one. Cody raised the mic to his lips, gaze locked on Cena, who was trying to pick himself off the mat with whatever pride he had left. “You’ve ruined enough!” Cody shouted, fury and purpose in every word. “I’m sorry that the John Cena Farewell Tour rode right through Rhodes Country!”
The crowd erupted. “But I’m back. I’m ready to fight. You got yourself a partner in Logan Paul?” Cody sneered. “I got myself a brother in the World Heavyweight Champion!”
Jey stepped up beside him, championship glinting on his shoulder.
“We’ll see you at Money in the Bank!”
Cody tossed the mic. Cena’s face flickered—he looked pissed, yes, but there was fear too. A crack in the mask. And I was already there, standing in front of the ropes, my wings flared wide like a guardian shadow. Arms crossed. Eyes locked on Cena. He looked down at me. I didn’t blink. I didn’t need a mic for this. My voice, quiet but clear, reached him through the fire in my stare.
“I’ll be there too.”
I tilted my head slowly, like a warning. “I’m always there.”
I stepped back, folding my wings, standing as Jey and Cody joined me. Cena backed away slowly, a storm of boos chasing him up the ramp. Cody leaned in close as we turned toward the back. “You really are terrifying when you want to be.”
I smirked. “Good. Someone’s gotta be.”
Jey laughed under his breath. “I’m glad it’s not me.”
We walked together, the three of us—a nightmare for those who tried to cheat, lie, and steal glory. Together, we were the reminder that in a world full of self-proclaimed legends, real ones still stood tall.
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