The energy in the Thompson-Boling Arena was electric as Cody and I made our entrance. The crowd's cheers echoed through the arena, and I could feel the anticipation in the air. Cody had a microphone in hand, his expression a mix of determination and intensity so I let him lead while I stayed slightly behind him, arms crossed, watching him do what he does best. The roar of the WWE Universe always hit me like a wave, loud and electric, but it felt different tonight—like anticipation was thicker than the air itself. “Since WrestleMania 41,” Cody began, his voice clear and steady, “we’ve seen a lot change. Titles shifted. Loyalties were tested. And through it all, the story continued.”
The crowd cheered, and he nodded with a small smile, pacing slowly across the ring. “We’ve been through battles—me, Angel, Jey—standing shoulder to shoulder against everything thrown at us. From The Bloodline’s games to Logan Paul’s garbage tactics—hell, even The Final Boss trying to get me to sell my soul to him—”
His voice was rising. I saw it coming before anyone else did. The shift in his tone. The tension tightening in his shoulders. Then—
“—and then there’s John Cena.” Cody’s voice spat the name like it was something bitter. “A man who pretended to stand for hustle, loyalty, and respect… only to turn his back on every last one of those values!”
His hand clenched the mic tight, his jaw locked. I took a small step forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was subtle, nothing overdramatic. Just enough. “Easy, Code,” I whispered, calm and steady. He paused and looked at me, just for a second. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. Then he turned back to the crowd, lifting the mic again.
“Sorry, y’all,” he said, his tone softer now. “Got a little carried away there. Happens when you care too damn much.”
He glanced back at me and added with a smirk, “Good thing I’ve got my best friend here to keep me in check. She’s got a knack for saving me from my own dramatic ass.”
I grinned and leaned toward the mic just enough for my voice to carry. “Just doing my job as your best friend.”
That got a warm pop from the crowd. Cody turned fully to them now, voice picking up with excitement. “But I didn’t come out here just to vent. No, no. I came out here with a surprise.”
The arena shifted instantly. Murmurs of excitement buzzed through the air. “You all feel that?” Cody teased, pacing. “Oh yeah—you guys seem hungry. Perhaps we should…”
He leaned forward with exaggerated dramatics, clearly building it up.
“…yeet.”
I groaned internally and slapped a hand over my face. I didn’t even try to hide it. He actually said it. Out loud. With his whole chest. I made a mental note to roast him mercilessly backstage later. The crowd didn’t care though—they absolutely lost it, erupting into a sea of chants.
“YEET! YEET! YEET!”
And then—boom. The music hit. That infectious beat. The sound of chaos and fun rolled into one. The place exploded. Jey Uso.
I looked toward the crowd as he appeared, bouncing and yeeting his way through the sea of fans, hyping them up with every move. He had that infectious energy that pulled everyone into his orbit. I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as he climbed onto the barricade, then over it, entering the ring like it was his own personal kingdom. He stepped up to us, eyes gleaming, smile wide. Cody and I each offered a fist, and he bumped both before pulling us into one big three-way fist bump.
“Y’all ready?” Jey shouted over the crowd.
Cody grinned. “Let’s give it to ‘em.”
And just like that—
“YEET!” the three of us said in unison, pumping our fists into the air. The crowd lost it. The noise was deafening. In that moment, standing in the middle of the ring with Cody and Jey, feeling the energy of the WWE Universe washing over us—I felt unstoppable. We weren’t just a team. We were a family. A chaotic, loud, sometimes ridiculous family—but a family all the same. And when Cody turned to me with that smug smile again, I only had one thought:
You’re lucky I love you, you cheesy glitter bomb.
But oh, was that roast coming later.
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Jey's entrance had only amplified the excitement, and the three of us stood united in the ring, soaking in the adulation. But then, the atmosphere shifted. John Cena's music hit, and the crowd's cheers turned into a mix of anticipation and tension. Cena made his way to the ring, his presence commanding as always.
He grabbed a mic and began to speak, his words laced with disdain. He addressed Cody and Jey, his words laced with condescension. "You two think you're the future? You're just John Cena wannabes"
I folded my arms, instinctively stepping half a foot in front of Cody, eyes narrowed. I’d been waiting for this.
“Oh? What’s this, the WWE’s personal cosplay of a Marvel superhero?” His gaze flicked to me.
I cocked a brow and rolled my shoulders back. “Keep talking, Cena. You might finally say something original.”
Cena continued, "Logan Paul is the only one who embodies Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect. He doesn’t have to pay his dues; he's paying your mortgage."
Jey bristled beside me, and Cody’s jaw tightened. I felt my blood start to boil. “You done yet, ‘champ’?” I asked, stepping forward now. “Or do you need Logan to come out and hold your mic for you, old man?”
Right on cue, Logan Paul’s theme hit. The crowd let him have it — a mix of boos and groans echoing through the arena as he strutted down the ramp in that ridiculous fur coat and sunglasses like he just invented wrestling. He grabbed a mic and pointed right at Jey. “You needed Cody’s help to beat me, and you know it!” Logan shouted. “At Money in the Bank, I'm taking that title — and when I do, I'll finally prove what everyone already knows: I'm the real Main Event.”
I groaned. “Oh good,” I muttered. “I was worried the circus forgot to send in the clown.”
Logan turned toward me, smug as ever. “Oh hey, look — it’s WWE’s Guardian Angel. Still playing dress-up and hoping someone takes you seriously?”
“Cody did what was right after your washed up homeboy here tried to cheat. So much for the ‘Hustle, Loyalty, Respect’ he spoke so highly of for so long,” I said coolly, stepping up until I was chest to chest with him, “But you, Logan? Your mouth’s writing checks your body absolutely cannot cash. Keep pushing me, and I’ll make sure the next bottle of Prime you drink has my boot in it.”
Cena cut in again, stepping up with that patronizing tone of his. “You think you’re tough, Angel? You’re just a backup dancer in their spotlight. You’re lucky Logan’s even acknowledging you.”
“Acknowledging? What, are you part of the Bloodline now? I guess you really are nothing more than The Rock’s little bi***,” I shot back, glaring daggers at both of them.
Cody smirked, then turned to Cena. "Is Logan about to go polish your 'Peacemaker'?" he quipped. The crowd erupted in laughter, and Jey nearly doubled over laughing, and I just grinned wickedly, eyes never leaving Cena’s suddenly sour face. Cena’s expression darkened. “You’re gonna regret this—”
“You already regret it,” I cut him off, stepping back between Cody and Jey. “You just haven’t realized it yet.”
Cena's expression darkened, and before anyone could react, chaos erupted. Fists flew, and the ring became a battleground. I moved quickly, dodging a swing from Logan and delivering a swift kick to his midsection. Jey and Cody were holding their own against Cena, the crowd roaring with every blow. Eventually, we stood tall in the ring, Cena and Logan retreating up the ramp. I looked at Cody, a smirk on my face. "Well, that escalated quickly."
He chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just another day at the office."
Jey nodded, his eyes still on the retreating figures of Cena and Logan. "They better be ready for Money in the Bank."
I glanced at both of them, determination in my eyes. "Because we sure as hell will be."
Jey held up his title, and Cody picked up Cena's championship belt, holding it high above his head. The message was clear: this wasn't over. The crowd's cheers were deafening. I stood a little taller. Seeing Cody with the Championship in his hands once again, even though it was still officially John Cena’s, felt right. As the promo ended, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—pride in my friends, anger at Cena's arrogance, and anticipation for what was to come.
The energy backstage after SmackDown was buzzing—still electric from what had just gone down in the ring. Cody, Jey, and I had found a quiet hallway behind catering, slouched against a stack of production crates, winding down. Jey had his title slung casually over his shoulder, Cody was adjusting his wrist tape, and I was picking at the corner of a stubborn bandage on my knuckle. Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning and I grinned wide. I straightened up suddenly. “Hey, Code?”
He looked up, already suspicious. “Yeah?”
I plastered on the most exaggeratedly innocent expression I could muster. “You guys seem hungry... perhaps we should yeet?”
Cody groaned instantly. “No. Nope. We’re not doing this.”
“Oh, we are absolutely doing this.” I held my arms out dramatically. “Yeet, Cody? Really? That’s the line you chose? Who are you, my guidance counselor trying to blend in at lunch?”
Jey nearly choked on his water bottle. “It was spur of the moment!” Cody protested, already laughing as he tried—and failed—to defend himself. “I was trying to get people hyped for Jey! It was for the vibe!”
“Oh, the vibe, he says,” Jey chuckled, leaning back against the crate beside me. “Bro, it sounded like a dad who just discovered TikTok.”
“Right?!” I high-fived Jey mid-laugh. “Next thing you know, he’s gonna be out there doing Fortnite dances and asking if we wanna ‘get lit, fam.’”
“I’m sorry, did it not work?” he defended, voice climbing an octave as he pointed at Jey. “Because this man went off right after!”
“Yeah, I went off—in spite of that line,” Jey wheezed, still laughing. “Bruh said ‘perhaps we should yeet’ like he’s reading Shakespeare at a pep rally.”
Cody covered his face with both hands. “You two are relentless. I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Not a chance,” I said with a triumphant smirk.
Jey leaned forward, chuckling. “I gotta admit though, when you said it, I had to fight not to laugh right there in the ring. Thought I was gonna break.”
We all cracked up again, and even Cody was laughing by now. He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I admit defeat.”
“Wise choice,” I teased, holding out my fist to Jey, who bumped it with a proud grin. But then Jey’s smile softened just a little, a quiet calm settling in over him.
“For real though,” he said, glancing between us, “thank you both. You didn’t have to step in like that tonight, but you did. You’ve both had my back since this whole thing started. Means a lot.”
I sobered a bit, nudging his shoulder gently. “You don’t even have to thank us. You’ve earned that spot, Jey. We’re just here to remind everyone of it when they forget.”
Cody nodded, his tone sincere. “You’ve carried this weight with so much heart, man. You’ve got us—next week at Money in the Bank and beyond.”
Jey grinned and nodded. “Damn right. We takin’ over.”
After that, we slid back into our usual banter—Cody claiming he was secretly cool, me claiming I needed photographic proof, and Jey roasting both of us equally. It was the kind of camaraderie that came from being in the trenches together. Eventually, Jey pushed himself up with a stretch. “Aight, I’m out. Gonna go ice my shoulder and maybe eat an entire pizza.”
“Save me a slice or I’ll yeet you into the wall,” I said, smirking.
Jey grinned as he walked away. “Goodnight, fam.”
Once Jey disappeared down the hallway, still chuckling to himself about “yeet,” I turned back toward Cody and noticed it right away—the slight droop in his shoulders, the heaviness behind his eyes. It wasn’t exhaustion from the match. It was something deeper. Something that had been creeping in for weeks now. “Hey,” he said quietly, like even speaking the word was an effort. “Thanks. For earlier. When I started thinking about Cena—I was starting to lose it, but you kept me grounded.”
I tilted my head at him, crossing my arms and letting a smile creep across my face. “It’s what I’m here for. You’re not alone in this, Cody. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you from slipping into that darkness again. Even if that means smacking sense into you with a folding chair.”
He let out a short laugh, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes yet. “You’d actually do that, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, absolutely.” I stepped closer, tapping a finger against his chest. “You start acting like you did that night after Mania again, and I swear, I will drag your dramatic ass backstage by the earlobe. Try me.”
Cody snorted. “Wow. Not even a little compassion, huh?”
I softened then, reaching out to lay a hand gently on his arm. “The compassion is in not publicly humiliating you in front of an arena full of fans. The chair is Plan B. Compassionate and effective.”
That earned a full laugh from him, and finally, finally, his eyes lit up. Then, without warning, he stepped forward and pulled me into a strong hug. Not one of those quick, awkward ones. This was a real hug—tight and secure, the kind that made you feel like maybe everything really was going to be okay. “I mean it, Angel,” he murmured. “You’re like the little sister I didn’t know I needed. I’m proud of you. I’ve got your back always, okay?”
I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around him tightly, letting myself lean into it for a second. “Same here, big brother. Always.”
He pulled back, just enough to ruffle my hair with that annoying big brother smugness that instantly made me roll my eyes. “Okay, first of all—rude,” I grumbled, flattening my hair out. “Second of all, you are aware I can take you down in like six seconds, right?”
Cody arched a brow. “You? Take me down? Alright, now I know you’re delusional.”
I grinned. “You’re only saying that because you’ve never seen me caffeinated with a grudge.”
He laughed again, more relaxed now. “Remind me to keep the coffee away from you then.”
“You should be more worried about the grudge, honestly.” I leaned back against the crate and gave him a sly look. “Also, you’re welcome, by the way. For saving you from becoming Supervillain Cody tonight.”
“Supervillain?” he echoed, clearly amused.
“Yup. You were one angry promo away from going full heel. The next line was gonna be something like ‘You people don’t deserve me’ while dramatically flipping your cape.”
Cody rolled his eyes but smiled. “I don’t even have a cape.”
“Yet,” I shot back. “But I guarantee you, if Paul Heyman handed you one, you’d think about it.”
He pointed at me. “Alright, I’ll admit—you’ve got a point. You really are relentless.”
“Damn right I am,” I said proudly. “Someone’s gotta keep you from turning into a melodramatic anime villain.”
Cody leaned against the wall next to me, his voice dipping a bit lower. “I’ve… I’ve just been carrying a lot lately, y’know? And sometimes I feel like if I stop, if I let go for even a second, I’ll fall apart. Like the pressure will swallow me whole.”
My smile faded, replaced by something quieter—steadier. I nudged his shoulder gently. “Then don’t carry it alone. That’s what I’m here for. Me, Jey, the rest of the crew—we’ve got you. We see you, Cody. And we’re not gonna let you drown.”
He didn’t respond right away. Just nodded slowly, his jaw tightening like he was trying not to let too much emotion show. “Thanks, Angel,” he said finally. “Really. I don’t say it enough, but you help me more than you know.”
I nudged him again, this time with a smirk. “Yeah, well… you did try to ‘yeet’ a crowd of people earlier, so let’s not get too sentimental.”
“Geez,” he groaned, covering his face with both hands. “I knew that was gonna haunt me forever.”
“Forever and ever,” I confirmed, sing-songing the words. “I’m having it embroidered on a jacket.”
“I regret so much.”
“You should.”
We laughed again, leaning there side by side, two battle-worn souls sharing a moment of peace in the quiet after the storm. And in that moment—just us, the soft echoes of distant crew members breaking down the set, the low hum of arena lights overhead—I felt it again. Not just teammates. Not just allies. Family.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.