The lights dipped slightly as the crowd settled into its place, buzzing with anticipation. A few moments into the faint hissing of the crowd, silence reigned, save for an occasional subtle chant of "IRW! IRW!"
Then Maya Hart's music filled the arena to a deafening pop.
The instant reaction was pure boos. Loud and constant. The almost-women's champion stepped from behind the curtain decked out in her trademark black leather jacket, and the same cocky grin plastered across her face that half the arena hated, while the other half took to liking her confidence against their will.
Noah: "And here comes the most despised woman in IRW at this moment. Maya Hart."
Irvin: "Despised? She has become the reason people purchased tickets. They love to hate her; that's heat, baby."
Maya made her way to the ring unapologetic of the jeers and shared an expression of amusement and slight annoyance. A fan near the barricade held a sign that read, "Why Maya Why?!" Maya stopped just on a dime and tore the sign in two without response, and once she turned back to the ring, she smirked into the nearby camera lens and continued to the ring.
Once she slipped between the ropes, she had snatched a microphone from the official and merely waited for the noise to settle down, which, it didn't. So she talked OVER it.
"Oh, do shut up already," she snapped, her audible tone cutting through the boos. "I don't care about your opinion. I'm the one who built this division. You really think Tracey Prince got this division over? Please. Without me, she's just another boring face with a plastic smile."
Booing got even louder, but she seemed to be feeding off of it as she paced.
"I hear that Tracey is still nursing her little boo-boos from All In. Poor champion can't even stand up without crying about her ribs. You're welcome for the bruises, sweetheart - it's the closest thing you'll ever have to toughness."
Booing was relentless, but Maya just smiled wider.
Irvin: "She's fearless, Noah. Look at her just absorb it."
Noah: "Fearless or stupid, depending on who you ask."
Maya ceased her pacing, the smirk on her lips diminishing into something more frigid. "But there is another person I need to talk about tonight", her voice became lower. "There is someone who decided to stick her nose where it did not belong at All In. Someone who made the biggest mistake of her life".
The crowd's noise decreased a bit, picking up on the shift.
"I am talking about that bitch--" pause for effect, "--Evelyn Sharma!"
The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers, at the audacity.
Tony hooted with the crowd, "They cut that on TV right?"
Backstage, Lance nearly spilled his coffee. "She just called her a what?!"
Vince, who was beside him shrugged without laughing. "Well... she is learning what it means to have a live mic."
In the ring, Maya continued with venom dripping from her voice. "Yeah, I said it! She is a backstabbing, spotlight stealing nobody who got her little five seconds of fame by sticking her nose in my business. Well guess what, Evelyn? You just painted a big red target on your back-".
Before Maya had the opportunity to finish her thought, the audience went wild cheering. The camera panned to the ramp—Evelyn Sharma was bolting down it.
Noah: "Here she comes! Evelyn's had enough!"
Evelyn slid into the ring under the bottom rope, and Maya barely had time to react before Evelyn had pinned her to the mat. The microphone went off the screen and the two women rolled around exchanging punches; their hair swirling and tussling, while the audience roared.
Evelyn then mounted Maya and began raining punches on her while Maya (feeling the punches) tried to cover her face. Maya fought her way back to her feet, shoved Evelyn back, and attempted to kick Evelyn in stomach; however, Evelyn caught her leg, twisted it around, and spun her around while hitting her directly in the jaw with a forearm.
The crowd went even more wild.
Noah: "Evelyn's exploded! Maya doesn't know what hit her!"
Irvin: "That's one way to answer an insult."
Maya collided back, dazed, and reached for Evelyn's hair; forever, she ducked Evelyn's attempted grab; then she grabbed Maya by the shoulders and planted Maya back to the mat with her finisher - "The Curtain Call."
The ring shook from the shock. Maya laid flat, not moving.
The fans were on their feet, screaming and chanting Evelyn's name. Evelyn stood above Maya's fallen body, taking in deep breaths with her chest rising and falling—but, she straightened up, raised her arms, and struck a bold T-pose, smiling as the fans cheered.
Noah: "Poetic justice! Maya Hart has been put on her butt!"
Irvin: "Yeah, yeah—but she won't forget this, Noah. Not for a long time."
In the front row, Luke Hart was not cheering. He sat forward with his hands clenched in his lap. The sight of his sister out in the middle of the ring embarrassed and booed twisted something in his stomach.
Tony elbowed him with a grin. "Looks like she sure did shut her up for good, eh?"
Luke said nothing. He stared, eyes dark, as his jaw tightened as he stared towards the ring.
______
Later that evening, the arena lights actually went dark again as music started to play: the opening chords of Eddie Prince's entrance music—an upbeat, 80s style guitar riff that quickly elicited loud boos and jeers from the fans. The new IRW Men's Champion walked out in his usually flashy jacket, with the championship belt shining brightly on his shoulder.
He stopped once he reached the top of the ramp, and spread his arms wide so he could absorb all the hate from the fans. Then, with a self-assured smile, he strode down the ramp with a swagger and entered the ring.
Noah: "Here comes the man who shocked everyone at All In—the new IRW Champion, Eddie Prince."
Irvin: "The man has a smile that could sell a ticket, and a punch that breaks dreams."
Noah: "And backs."
Eddie took a microphone and began to walk around the ring while more and more booed and jeered. He let the fans boo him out—he had accomplished them in being booed.
"You can boo me all you like, you can call me a thief, you can say I got lucky, but facts do not care about your feelings."
He held the title belt high above his head: the gold belt shimmered under the lights. "That right there says I'm the best in IRW. That says I'm the last man standing when everyone else has fallen.
The audience's boos grew louder, but Eddie kept a cool, charismatic vibe with each word he selected very carefully. "You know, when I went through that curtain a couple of months ago, no one thought I would do it. That I was over the top. You know what? When your talent doesn't perform... then being overly confident works."
The boos rose again, but Eddie continued his smile knowing what he was doing.
Backstage, Vince leaned in closer, squinting down. "Huh. He... is... actually... good."
Lance laughed. "You sound shocked."
"I am," Vince said flatly. "He has something to him. The voice, the persona. He could be the guy."
Lance was confused at Vince's remark. "What guy?"
Eddie turned back to the ramp and again held up the microphone. "So for anyone on the other side of the curtain who thinks they have what it takes... anyone who wants to come challenge The Prince of the Punk's crown..."
The music blared in the arena's sound system, cutting through Eddie's comments. A guitar riff from an older, classic theme who rocked the arena.
Noah: "Whoa, woah, woah! That music! That sounds like--"
The crowd erupted into cheers when Hogan Hornet's music began playing, the veteran's entrance brightening up the stage. Eddie stood transfixed in the ring. His smug smile turned into a frown. The camera switched to the entrance way. The titan of IRW, their fan-favorite, was preparing to make his entrance—