When Life Starts Ch. 03

I could see it peeking out from behind her sweet smile and peppy nature. Sense it hiding beneath her nervous speaking and Pinkie Pie from My Little Ponies impression. Strength, toughness, and most of all, heart.

Qualities which led me to hire her, when the decision was mine to make. She was young, but so were most of us in a company willed into existence by the Bowman brothers and their quickly expanding empire.

Along with that youth, came her pedigree, she coming from a family I bet would make her special - even if it was once or twice removed.

A bet that inspired me not wait for my office to clear of sweaty, catcalling construction workers. And instead to invite her to my apartment so that we could finish up her signing, and officially add her to the roster of the Women's Wrestling Network.

"Great!" I said brightly, out of expectation more than true excitement as the friendly brunette handed me back her newly signed employment contract. A contract I took and placed to the side of my black skirt-covered hip, a skirt I thought went super well with my emerald green blouse. "Ok, now that it's official, I wanted to go over some of our plans for you."

"Plans sound good! Where do we start? Where am I starting, actually? Anywhere's good, but somewhere good would be ... uh ... good ... too." As she spoke in her frantic, overly-excited manner, I laughed softly. Each of us sitting on my thin-framed white-fabric living room couch.

"Well, good is what we got, sister! Since we're starting you out with The Doll!" As I said it, I watched her face, knowing it would light up as soon as she heard the news. An expectation that became reality as the cute, thick-browed Latina leaped out of her chair, her eyes seeming to triple in size from shock.

"What!? Wait, are you kidding me? You're kidding me... Why? How? No... This is all fake, right? You're filming me, and this is one of Chavo's mean jokes..." I'd say I could see the wheels in her head spinning as she spoke, but instead, it was more like they moved so fast they broke off and crashed into a stack of anxiety-riddled kittens.

"No, this isn't a joke. And though I would have loved to, I haven't met Chavo Guerrero, Jr." I tried to calm her, though I don't know that I was equipped with those specific spells, in Jennifer's case.

"Ha! I haven't heard anyone say his full name like that in years. We just call him Chavvy. But if you wanted to meet him... I could... He trained me! He's like my cousin's cousin or something. Wait! You knew that. You hired me. Sorry! Where were we?"

Almost being confused myself, I took a moment before answering. "We ... were ... uh ... about to talk about you and Doll."

"Right! Yes! Tell me... Me and Doll. Go... No, wait; you're MY boss. Tell me when you want to. Which hopefully will be soon, since I really want to know. But no pressure..." Again Jennifer set loose, almost squirming with anticipation as she brought herself back to a seat. And though she was manic, almost painfully so, she was still engaging and intensely adorable. Qualities which seemed to increase before my eyes, as her lower lip began to curl outward.

"Are you pouting at me so that I tell you?" I asked, more amused than annoyed.

"Yes." For once, the Latina said little more than what I needed - she making sure to keep her extended lip on full display

"Alright, well ... only because you pouted, here's the deal. We want to put you and her in a storyline a little like the one Trish Stratus and Mickey James did. You're The Doll's biggest fan and a new wrestler who wants her as your mentor." Despite my duty to tell her about it, I was torn about the storyline.

Like, it made sense and had gone well in the WWF, but I hated copying them. Knowing to the depths of my soul that we had the talent to do better. But I wasn't a writer, just the one who tasked with conveying the writers' ideas to the talent.

"I love that! It's like ... the truth! I AM a giant fan of hers! And having her as a mentor would be like..." I knew that if I let Jennifer, she would talk forever. So before only a sentence or two, I cut my brunette guest off.

"But first!" I interjected, over her still accelerating mania.

"You need to go talk to her. To Katherine. To get to know her, and more importantly, to let her get to know you. She is the biggest star in the company, and she needs to like the stories we give to her." With every word, I began to realize that the prospect of being in a program with The Doll was something so exciting for our new luchette, that she was willing to listen. Not just listen, but think. Calmly.

"So ... head over the to our new training facility tomorrow. Sundays are Kat's private training day. Introduce yourself. Ingratiate yourself. And make her like you, or at least, as close to that feeling as you can, ok?" Despite the speed of her previous responses, Jennifer just sat when I finished my instructions.

As she did, I watched her, just sitting there, her muscular legs crossed, in her tight, shorter than short cutoff jeans. In them, and her pretty white sweetheart top, I could tell she was processing and playing out her meeting with the legendary Katherine Dahl in her head. Something I saw as a positive, knowing Kat's temperamental temperament and her reputation as a diva, though not Vince's kind.

"Any questions?" I asked, half-impressed and half-worried by Jennifer's sustained silence.

"Just one, but it isn't related to WWN. Are you ... uh ... interested in—" She began, with a shyness I had yet to see expressed on her beautiful face. But mid-sentence, and loudly, someone knocked at my apartment door, interrupting her.

"Ugh! One sec." I replied, after a frustrated sigh. An irritation I carried with me as I stood and walked to my door, not knowing who it might be or why they knocked like the kool-aid man. To answer that question, I leaned in and peeped through my peephole. In it, I saw a woman I did not recognize. A brunette with a scowl on her face, one who again pounded on my door, even as I looked her over.

Maybe her expression should have kept me from opening the door, but being a graduate of Penngrove University, I was not the kind of girl who sought to avoid conflict with angry women. Especially when they were as stunning and well-built as whoever this woman was.

And so with the thought of a confrontation with her quickening my pulse, I opened the door, preparing a glare of my own for the stranger, just to set the tone between us.

As my eyes hardened into that glare, I began to picture some kind of angry shouting match between me and the knocking woman. One which took us chest-to-chest as we glared into each other's eyes.

But instead of getting to enjoy myself at either of those half-points, as soon as I opened the door, the knocking woman charged in. The red, silk halter top and leather black skirt wearing woman grabbing my hair, and slamming my back against the wall of my entryway.

"What. The. Fuck!?" I shouted, more in surprise than outrage, but regardless of cause, I quickly got my answer.

"You the one fucking with my Rheena, huh?" In an instant, all of my short-lived confusion dissolved and I knew. My shocked grimace changing, in an instant, to a confident smirk. A smirk I wore with a tilting head, as the newly arrived brunette pinned me against the wall, her arms fully extended, her voice dripping with jealousy. "Answer me bitch!"

Instead of attacking her, I just raised my hands up and into her hair, taking my own grasps and holding. Warning her with small but stiff tugs that I would fight back if she escalated. Warnings I gave her as I spoke around my sudden attacker to my couch-bound guest. "Jennifer, you need to go..." I said calmly, but still loud enough for WWN's newest wrestler to hear.

"I'll stay, if you don-" She began, a longing in her voice, that upon hearing, I tucked away to poke at some other time.

"No, Jennifer. Go!" Came the same instruction, but not from me, or the woman glaring at me. Instead, the demand came from Rheena, who charged into my apartment, her breath short, and face contorted in the same outrage I had chosen to avoid.

"Please, can I stay...? I promise, I'll—" Jennifer pled, even as the woman who held me and I began to pull each other's hair with increased force - each of us wincing at the pain the other caused.

"Jennifer! Get. Out!" Again Rheena demanded, and at the sounding of it, Jennifer jumped - she being fully aware it was her boss who was speaking.

"Fine!" The Latina said in a pout, clearly wishing that she could stay for the fireworks that seemed to be imminent. Agreed in words though she had, Jenn left slowly, she stealing what moments she could to watch me and this mystery woman pull each other's hair in a surprise standoff in the entryway of my apartment.

But, when Rheena could take no more of Jennifer's slow pace, my olive-skinned boss charged over, grabbed the beige-heeled Latina, and escorted her to the door of my apartment.

Then, just as the door began to shut, I shouted to my new hire. "Go see Doll!" A final instruction, one that seemed to make my attacker mad. As even before the door had shut, the brunette used her grip on my hair to pull me away from the wall and then slam me back into it.

God, I wanted to hurt her - to just UGH! But first, I wanted to know what we were fighting about and who I was fighting with. "Who is this bitch, Rheena?" And though I asked only one of the two women left in my apartment, I got two answers.

"This is Nazmin." Came from Rheena in an exhausted tone that displayed her frustration with what was happening.

"I'm her fucking girlfriend." Offered Nazmin, at the same time Rheena spoke. An unasked for answer that came with a hard tug of my hair, one that pulled my head harshly back to center.

"She is NOT my girlfriend." Responded Rheena, her desire to assuage any guilt I might feel for our previous encounters clear.

"Looks like she isn't your girlfriend, Nazmin." I said cruelly to the ethnic woman who held me, knowing that it would spark a reaction. And spark a reaction it did, as within a blink my body and hers were pressed together, she pulling hard first and then me responding. The two of us pulling away from the wall and then slamming back into it, as we stumbled together. Each of us pulling the other's hair as hard as we could, neither of us able to withstand the pain without yelping and yammering hushed curses at each other.

And though for a moment we had forgotten about Rheena, she quickly reminded of us her presence. My first opponent in Seattle walking over to us, reaching between us, and then pushing us apart. Nazmin and I clinging to our grips on each other's hair, causing our separation to stop at arm's length.

"Stop it you two! NOW!" Rheena demanded, her voice shaking with anger.

"I will fight this bitch for you, Rheena." Nazmin said with a sexy Middle-Eastern accent I was not cultured enough to place.

Not wanting her to think she was the only one who wanted to fight, I yanked hard at the brunette's hair, making her respond in pain. "Owe, owe, BITCH!"

"No, god, Nazmin ... I am not some kind of prize to be fought over! This is 2019, and I want you both. You're not my girlfriend, and neither is Brooke. I met you both the exact same way - looking for a sexfight. Now, let go of each other!" I knew what Rheena was saying. That she didn't want to be treated like some piece of meat for two tigresses to fight over. Not wanting to lose one of us, when really, she should be able to enjoy both me and the sexy cxnt that held my hair.

But no matter what as at stake, Nazmin was going to get hurt, I didn't need a reason why anymore. She had pissed me off, and turned me on in the process. So Rheena on-a-pole or not, the battle Jennifer had wanted so desperately to watch was going to happen. Even if Jennifer wouldn't be there to see it. Poor girl.

"Screw girlfriends, then. Winner fucks Rheena, and the loser is the other's bitch - tonight only." I think I could have said and set anything as the terms, and Nazmin would have agreed. For only a quarter-second after I offered, she spoke.

"Deal, bitch." Words that came as she and I both gave the other a hard, scream-inducing pull of hair.

Maybe out of a resignation that there was no way Nazmin and I were going to let go of each other's hair, or this chance to hurt each other, Rheena gave in. "Fine..."

As if that word were a gun being fired at the starting line of a race, Nazmin and I launched into action, tearing at each other's locks hard. Each of us giving the other delicious sounds of pain and agony. "Owe, owe." "Fuck." "Shit." "Oowwwweeee."

And though every second that she and I pulled at each other's hair hurt, a pain which was made worse by how long that same attack had continued, neither of us let go. No, instead we only tugged harder, as our bodies pulled tighter, our effort-reddened cheeks coming to a warm press. The two of us together leaning over further and further, as if we were tasked with giving some kind of royal bow with our bodies having been glued together.

But as that bow dipped lower and lower, we each began to falter. Barely able to stay on our feet, and completely unable to straighten our bodies, with the other's death grip on our locks - mine golden and her's a rich auburn-brown. Suffer though we did, in the exact same way, neither of us relented. If anything, even as we began to whimper cheek-to-cheek at the pain we inflicted upon each other, we just yanked harder. Each of us driven by a mutual desire to hurt one another that continued, even as we together collapsed to the cold cement floor of my apartment.

Even then, as we fell to our knees and then to our sides, we never let go of our holds. Just pulling. Just tugging. No matter how much it hurt, or what sounds came out of our mouths. In that hell, we remained, side by side, until Nazmin burst into action, trying to mount me.

A coup she was able to accomplish by pushing me to my back and crawling up my body. Her thighs raising and placing on either side of my blouse-covered abdomen.

But as she took that position of assumed power, I angled her neck down harshly, with my grip on her brunette hair. A folding that left Nazmin bent painfully in two, as she found herself stuck atop me. She and her beautifully-hued mocha skin having no way to advance. As any movement forward she made caused my yanking of her precious black hair to be even more painful.

Despite trying again and again, to find someway to turn her mount into dominance, eventually, Nazmin was forced to retreat. Forced to backtrack until she laid down on top of me. Her left cheek, and my right again pressing together, as we held desperately to our grips on each other's hair. Neither of us willing to release first, even as tears began to form and then fall from our eyes.

Tears, and the sounds that accompanied them, that pushed Rheena, who has been watching the whole time, to finally intervene. "Oh my god! Stop pulling each other's hair! I am not interested in either of you being bald! Even if seeing this is sexy as hell."

At our lover's command, we stopped our cruel pulling, even if we held tight to our grips, Nazmin and I just remaining - resting. Body-to-body, as our tears dripped and mixed in a small pool beneath us.

Even without our pulling, Rheena spoke again. "Ok, you're going to let go of each other's FUCKING hair in 3..." She paused letting us realize she was counting down to what she expected to be a release. "2..." She counted again, her voice stern and forceful. "1!" She shouted, and as she instructed we did release our hold on each other's hair.

Maybe Rheena thought with our holds abandoned we would separate. But instead, as three became one, we just slapped at each other: hard. Really, really hard. Our palms landing in harsh stinging slaps anywhere we could land them. Not letting that spree end with one or two, but instead hitting one another again and again. The resulting claps, each which stung, echoing through my apartment.

Echoes that mixed with our every yelp and yell, until, when we could take not a second more of such strikes, we grabbed for each other's hair again. Settling back into our long war of hairpulling attrition - it feeling safer than the explosive round of slaps Nazmin and I had unleashed on each other when free from it.

"Ugh! I said no more hairpulling!" Rheena complained again, even as Nazmin and I shared with each other and not our lover, tiny whimpers of pain. The violence and intensity of our battle being far more than either of us anticipated. Each of us surprising the other with our willingness to follow the other into the depths of such an intense fight.

Whimper though we did, at Rheena's prompting, I quickly withdrew my left hand from Nazmin's hair and began to punch. Not forward like a boxer, but by extending my arm out wide to the side, and then after a sharp hook, back in. Landing my closed knuckles in her still-clothed ribs. Strikes that caused her to groan out atop me, before reaching for my punching arm with a right hand she took from my hair.

As my ethnic rival reached for my striking fist and clasped her fingers around my wrist, I bridged on one side, and with my half-raised body, sent Nazmin falling off of me to her back. But I did not just let her go, instead, I followed her. Mounting her, just as she had tried to do to me before, each of us, at that moment, having completely abandoned our hairpulling. And though I tried to move fast, before I had pressed myself down on top of her, Nazmin reached for my blouse and pulled it not only out from its tuck in my skirt, but over my arms and face.

At that moment I could not see her, but as she pulled, I still in the darkness, reached for her halter and yanked it hard, trying to take it from her. Each of us moving all of our focus to pulling the other's top off. Even to the detriment of my mount, which I abandoned by standing. In part to take Nazmin's top up and over her head, but also, to get my own top out from in front of my eyes.

It was then, that finally, we broke. Me throwing not only her halter top but my blouse to the floor, as I glared at her. The two of us already wounded combatants wiping drying tears away from our faces, as she joined me in a stand.

"Brooke. Nazmin. This is so. Fucking. Stupid. Look what you're doing to each other..." Rheena pled, she seeing how harsh our battle for her had been. But at that moment, neither of us recognized her words. The two of us only able to hear the heavy beating of our hearts, which pounded under our heaving, bra-covered chests. Neither of us able to see anything other than each other, and the anger that burned in our rival's jealousy-filled eyes.

Wanting to stoke that jealousy and drive Nazmin insane, I stormed over to Rheena, raised my tired hands to her cheeks and pulled her into a kiss.

One second passed, and then two, before I felt Rheena's lips pulled from mine - as Nazmin took her from me and into her own kiss. And though I gave her a few moments, uninterrupted, I then took Rheena back, pressing her lips to mine once again. Only to find Nazmin steal her from me, only to engage her in the same.

And though such rebounding kisses seemed as if they might continue forever, suddenly, I felt Rheena pull back from both us. Then, before either of us could react, and with my boss' hands placed on the back of not only my head and but my rival's, she pushed Nazmin and I together.

Not into some kind of headbutt, but into a kiss. One which began slowly and awkwardly, our minds taking a moment to realize what had occurred. Neither of us having tasted the other before or felt the other's tongue dance with our own. But as if it was a challenge from our mutual lover, we dove. We pressed. We kissed, as if the other's mouth was only source of air.