Monday, June 29, 2026

The Warrior and The Wren, No. 17

 

Chronicle 17

Cathy Greenwall stopped outside one of the Academy's larger meeting rooms.

"You ready?"

Joanna smiled nervously.

"I've wrestled in front of twenty thousand people."

"So no."

Cathy laughed.

"Fair enough."

She opened the door.

Inside sat three women.

The first immediately stood.

Tall.

Athletic.

Perfect posture.

Not a hair out of place.

Marcy Carter.

Known to wrestling fans as Magnolia Wine.

She crossed the room and offered Joanna a firm handshake.

"Good to finally work together."

"You too."

Everything about Marcy was measured.

Precise.

Almost military.

Nothing about her felt accidental.

Joanna had heard the stories.

Marcy's great-grandmother, Maven Totts, had become the first woman to play major league baseball nearly eighty years earlier.

Athletic excellence wasn't simply expected in the Carter family.

It was tradition.

Marcy had simply chosen wrestling instead.

The second woman barely looked up from her phone.

"So..."

She said dryly.

"You're the new one."

Leah van Dahl.

Georgia Peach.

Former Empress of Combat Arts.

More than once.

Never for very long.

She slipped the phone into her pocket and finally stood.

"I'm Leah."

"Joanna."

Leah smiled politely.

Not warmly.

Just enough.

The third woman waved enthusiastically from the sofa.

"Carly."

Joanna smiled.

"Cotton Candy."

"Only when they're paying me."

Carly Sweeting laughed.

She immediately got up and hugged Joanna.

"So glad you're here."

Joanna hugged her back.

"You too."

Within seconds Joanna understood why everyone seemed to like Carly.

She had a way of making a room feel less tense simply by existing.

Cathy clapped once.

"Excellent."

"Now..."

"...let's talk about The Total Babes."

Nobody spoke.

Cathy looked around.

"I'll start."

She opened her binder.

"Georgia."

"The face of the group."

Leah nodded.

"Makes sense."

"Magnolia."

"The backbone."

Marcy simply folded her arms.

"...and Sugar Cane."

"The wildcard."

Joanna listened quietly.

"Cotton Candy."

"The heart."

Carly smiled.

"I like that."

Cathy looked pleased.

"So..."

"I'd like to hear your thoughts."

Marcy answered first.

"I don't particularly care who's standing in front."

"I care whether everyone is prepared."

"If we're going to be the top faction..."

"...we train like it."

"We travel together."

"We arrive early."

"We leave late."

"We don't embarrass ourselves."

Leah leaned back.

"You missed one."

Marcy looked over.

"What?"

"We also apparently stop sleeping."

Marcy ignored the comment.

"If that's what it takes."

Leah sighed.

"See?"

"There it is."

Cathy raised an eyebrow.

"There what is?"

Leah looked toward Joanna.

"You'll learn."

"Marcy treats everything like military training."

Marcy answered immediately.

"I treat it like professionalism."

Leah groaned.

"I've spent twenty years hearing..."

"'This is your year.'"

"'Big push coming.'"

"'Just wait.'"

Leah shrugged.

"I'm done believing promises."

"I'm here."

"I'll do my job."

"...but forgive me if I don't start planning championship celebrations."

The room became quiet.

Carly broke it.

"I still think this can work."

Everyone looked at her.

She smiled.

"We've all wanted something."

"We're all still here."

"That has to count for something."

Joanna finally spoke.

"I think she's right."

Three pairs of eyes turned toward her.

"I don't know any of you very well."

"I've shared locker rooms."

"I've said hello."

"...but this..."

She smiled.

"...this is different."

"I don't expect us to become best friends overnight."

"...but..."

"...I'd like us to become a team."

Marcy nodded once.

"I can work with that."

Leah shrugged.

"We'll see."

Carly grinned.

"Progress."

Cathy closed the binder.

"All right."

"One more thing."

She looked around the room.

"I don't want four separate wrestlers wearing matching colours."

"I want a faction."

"A personality."

"A chemistry."

She pointed around the room.

"You four have to figure out who The Total Babes actually are."

Nobody answered immediately.

Joanna looked around the room.

Marcy.

Disciplined.

Demanding.

Reliable.

Leah.

Talented.

Frustrated.

Waiting for one last opportunity.

Carly.

Steady.

Optimistic.

The peacemaker.

...and Joanna.

Still learning how to become Sugar Cane.

It struck Joanna that Vince hadn't created The Total Babes.

He'd assembled four women and given them a name.

Everything else...

They would have to build together.

Leah broke the silence first.

She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.

"All right."

"You want to know how this goes?"

Nobody interrupted.

"I'll save everyone some time."

She counted on her fingers.

"We debut."

"We dominate."

"I'm Georgia Peach."

"I'm the mouthpiece."

"The face."

"The one doing all the interviews."

She shrugged.

"I win the Imperial Crown."

"Cotton and Sugar probably get the tag belts."

"Magnolia wins something secondary."

"Everybody gets a nice long title reign."

She looked at Marcy.

"Then..."

"...Magnolia gets jealous."

Marcy didn't react.

"You challenge me."

"You beat me."

"The faction explodes."

"Cotton and Sugar either pick a side..."

"...or get quietly shuffled into something else."

She smiled without humour.

"The end."

Silence.

Carly finally spoke.

"I mean..."

"...that's not the worst story."

Leah looked over.

"Of course you'd say that."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you actually believe this thing has a future."

"You want it to work."

"I do."

"You have to."

Carly frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Leah sighed.

"It might be your last shot."

The room became noticeably colder.

Carly didn't answer immediately.

Instead she looked down at the table.

"...Maybe."

She admitted it quietly.

"...but that doesn't make me wrong."

Marcy finally entered the conversation.

"It also doesn't make you right."

Cathy pinched the bridge of her nose.

"We've been together ten minutes."

Joanna quietly listened.

Leah wasn't angry.

She was tired.

Marcy wasn't cold.

She was demanding.

Carly wasn't naïve.

She simply wanted to believe.

Finally Joanna spoke.

"...It doesn't have to be like that."

Leah turned toward her.

"No?"

"No."

Leah folded her arms again.

"Okay."

"What is it going to be then?"

Joanna opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Cathy stepped in.

"Actually..."

"I should probably tell you something."

Everyone looked at her.

"I've spoken with Vince."

"...and?"

Leah asked.

"He doesn't see this as another cookie-cutter women's faction."

"He wants you to become..."

She searched for the right phrase.

"...the faces of the company."

Leah laughed.

"Oh, come on."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

Leah shook her head.

"We're not Hulk Hogan."

"We're not Logan Creed."

"The only other thing I can picture is us getting built up..."

"...just so Courtney Gilmour beats all of us."

Nobody immediately argued.

Joanna hated how believable Leah made it sound.

Still...

"There has to be something different."

Leah looked at her.

"Like what?"

Joanna thought aloud.

"What if..."

"...we weren't always wrestling?"

Leah frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know..."

"Maybe we influence other matches."

Leah immediately rolled her eyes.

"So..."

"...arm candy."

Marcy nodded once.

"I can absolutely see Vince suggesting that."

"No."

Joanna shook her head.

"Not like that."

"I'm just saying-"

Before she could finish...

Carly suddenly leaned forward.

"...Wait."

Everyone looked at her.

"No."

"I actually think she's onto something."

Leah raised an eyebrow.

"You do?"

"We already know how they're going to market us."

"Our looks."

"Our personalities."

"Our image."

She shrugged.

"We're not changing that."

"So..."

"...weaponize it."

Silence.

Carly continued.

"Not by standing at ringside looking pretty."

"That's boring."

"What if..."

"...people actually needed us?"

Marcy leaned forward slightly.

"Explain."

"The men's division."

"They all want championships."

"They all want opportunities."

"What if..."

"...the Babes decide who gets them?"

Leah frowned.

"How?"

"We influence matches."

"We interfere."

"We make alliances."

"We back people."

"We abandon people."

"We make wrestlers wonder..."

"'If I help them...'"

"'...will they help me?'"

She smiled.

"They're all trying to earn our favour."

Joanna's eyes widened.

"We're not distractions."

"No."

Carly nodded.

"We're power."

"We're the people behind the people."

Marcy slowly smiled.

"The powers behind the throne."

Cathy's pen immediately began racing across her notebook.

"Keep talking."

Leah sat quietly for several moments.

Finally...

"...That's..."

She sighed.

"...actually different."

Nobody celebrated.

It wasn't a finished idea.

It wasn't even close.

...but for the first time since the meeting had begun...

The four women weren't arguing about what Vince might do to them.

They were imagining what they could do themselves.

...and for the first time...

The Total Babes felt less like four wrestlers placed in matching colours...

...and more like the beginning of something dangerous.


Vince McGeady's office overlooked the Academy gym.

From his window he could watch three rings at once.

He claimed it helped him spot stars.

Cathy Greenwall suspected it mostly helped him keep an eye on everyone.

She stepped inside carrying a binder.

"You wanted to see me?"

Vince looked up.

"You've got something."

"I do."

He leaned back.

"Go."

Cathy opened the binder.

"The Total Babes."

Vince nodded.

"What about them?"

"I think we should rethink what they are."

"They're the dominant women's faction."

"I know."

"They'll win."

"They'll make money."

"They'll get over."

Cathy smiled politely.

"I don't think that's enough."

Vince folded his arms.

"No?"

"No."

She walked toward the whiteboard.

"Right now..."

"...they dominate the women's division."

She drew a small circle.

"What happens after that?"

"They keep winning."

"For how long?"

He shrugged.

"Until somebody beats them."

"...and then?"

"They break up."

"They feud."

"They make money."

Cathy smiled.

"Exactly."

Vince frowned.

"What?"

"We've done that."

"We've done it dozens of times."

She turned back toward him.

"I've just come from a meeting with the girls."

"They came up with something."

"Oh?"

"They don't want to just dominate the women's division."

"They want influence."

Vince raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of influence?"

"They become kingmakers."

Silence.

He waited.

"They interfere in men's stories."

"They decide who receives opportunities."

"They decide who's worthy of championship matches."

"They back wrestlers."

"They abandon wrestlers."

"They become..."

She smiled.

"...the powers behind the throne."

Vince considered it.

Finally...

"I wasn't really thinking beyond the women's division."

"I know."

"I figured four stars together..."

"...they'd become popular."

"They probably will."

Cathy nodded.

"...but that's not enough."

She took a deep breath.

"Vince."

"You know I love working here."

"You also know I'm going to tell you the truth."

He smiled.

"You usually do."

"The women aren't actually treated equally."

Vince frowned.

"They're presented equally."

"On paper."

She nodded.

"In practice?"

She looked him directly in the eye.

"When they get thirty seconds on a three-hour show..."

"...that's not equality."

He didn't interrupt.

"I also know you."

She smiled.

"Do you?"

"You'll eventually want love stories."

"I always want love stories."

"I know."

"You'll put one of them beside a male star."

"You'll create jealousy."

"You'll create romance."

"You'll create betrayal."

He smiled.

"They work."

"They do."

"...but..."

She closed the binder.

"...what if we did something different?"

He leaned forward.

"I'm listening."

"What if..."

"...the seductresses have agency?"

"What if they're powerful?"

"What if the audience realizes..."

"...the men need them..."

"...more than they need the men?"

Vince tilted his head.

"You want intergender wrestling?"

"No."

"Although..."

She shrugged.

"I'm not opposed."

"That's not the point."

"The point..."

She walked toward the window.

"...is to flip expectations."

He remained silent.

"We've spent decades making women secondary characters in men's stories."

"What if..."

"...the men became secondary characters in theirs?"

Vince's expression didn't change.

...but Cathy noticed he hadn't interrupted her once.

"The Babes influence title matches."

"They influence careers."

"They create alliances."

"They destroy alliances."

"They become the people everyone wants on their side."

She smiled.

"...and then?"

Vince asked quietly.

"Then every other woman on the roster notices."

He frowned.

"Go on."

"They want that power too."

"They start forming alliances."

"They oppose The Babes."

"They steal opportunities."

"They compete politically."

"They build factions."

"They stop waiting for the men's stories to make them important."

She pointed toward the arena below.

"They make themselves important."

Silence filled the office.

Vince slowly stood.

Walked toward the window.

Folded his arms.

He watched two trainees running the ropes below.

"They came up with this?"

"They started it."

"I helped shape it."

Another silence.

Finally...

"Hm."

Cathy knew that sound.

She'd worked with Vince long enough.

"Hm" meant he was thinking.

Not rejecting.

Thinking.

He turned around.

"I still want them dominating."

"They can."

"I still want Georgia as the face."

"She can be."

"I still want Sugar Cane becoming a star."

"So do I."

He nodded slowly.

"Interesting."

That was all.

No approval.

No rejection.

Just...

"Interesting."

Cathy smiled to herself as she gathered her binder.

She had learned long ago that Vince McGeady never announced his best ideas in the meeting where he heard them.

He let them grow.

As she reached the door, Vince spoke again.

"Cathy."

She turned.

"If we do this..."

"...they don't become side characters."

"No."

"They become the story."

A smile finally crossed Vince's face.

"Now..."

"...that sounds like money."

Cathy left the office believing something had shifted.

Maybe not much.

Maybe only a little.

...but sometimes...

A little was all it took.


The Academy ring had become considerably louder.

"Again."

Marcy clapped her hands once.

"No hesitation."

The four women reset.

Georgia Peach stood on the apron.

Cotton Candy and Sugar Cane occupied opposite corners.

Magnolia Wine stood in the middle of the ring.

"Ready?"

Joanna nodded.

The sequence began.

Leah charged.

Joanna ducked underneath.

Carly followed with a dropkick.

Marcy stepped in with a clothesline.

Reset.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The timing improved with every repetition.

Leah climbed through the ropes.

"I'll admit it."

She caught her breath.

"This is already feeling smoother."

Marcy nodded.

"It should."

"We've been drilling it for an hour."

Joanna smiled.

"You're relentless."

"I prefer 'prepared.'"

Carly laughed.

"Same thing."

They began another sequence.

This time Joanna moved almost instinctively.

Every step.

Every transition.

Every strike landed exactly where it should.

The others noticed.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Finally Marcy called for a break.

Everyone reached for their water bottles.

Marcy looked directly at Joanna.

"...You've gotten ridiculous."

Joanna frowned.

"What?"

"You've always been good."

"...but this..."

Marcy shook her head.

"...this is different."

Leah nodded.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"You've become..."

She searched for the word.

"...effortless."

Carly smiled.

"I've never seen you move like that."

Joanna shrugged awkwardly.

"I had some good coaching."

"The mountain man?"

Joanna grinned.

"My big sexy mountain man."

Leah laughed.

"You're actually sticking with that nickname?"

"He earned it."

Marcy folded her arms.

"How good is he?"

Joanna thought for a moment.

"...Very."

"Are you as good as him now?"

Joanna immediately shook her head.

"I'm not saying that."

Leah looked genuinely confused.

"Why not?"

"Because..."

Joanna smiled.

"I don't think like that."

"I'm just trying to become a better wrestler than I was yesterday. He helped."

Marcy sighed.

"I hate humble people."

"You don't."

"No."

She admitted.

"...but I also hate that you're probably the best wrestler in this company now."

Joanna blinked.

"I don't believe that."

"We do," Carly replied.

Leah nodded.

"You absolutely are."

Joanna simply smiled and changed the subject.

"So..."

"What about our finishers?"

Everyone groaned.

Marcy pointed toward the ropes.

"Exactly."

"We need something."

"Something good."

"Not..."

Leah rolled her eyes.

"...The Face Sitter."

Carly visibly cringed.

"Please don't even joke."

"I've seen worse."

Marcy muttered.

"We are not winning matches with innuendo."

"We're winning them with wrestling."

Joanna looked around the gym.

"...Daniel!"

Daniel Miles looked up from another ring.

"Hm?"

Marcy beckoned him over.

"We need ideas."

Daniel climbed through the ropes.

"What kind?"

"A group finish."

"Maybe a tag finish."

"Something Vince likes."

Leah added quickly,

"...and something that doesn't inspire him to invent another embarrassing move."

Daniel laughed.

"Fair request."

He looked at each woman in turn.

"All right."

"What are your strengths?"

Marcy answered immediately.

"Power."

"Carly?"

"Speed."

"Leah?"

"Timing."

Joanna shrugged.

"...Adaptation."

Daniel smiled.

"That's actually useful."

He began pacing around the ring.

"What if..."

He pointed toward Marcy.

"You hit the big move."

"Carly cuts off the save."

"Leah keeps the referee occupied."

Joanna finishes."

Leah frowned.

"So my job is distracting referees?"

"For this sequence."

"I don't hate it."

Daniel continued thinking.

"Or..."

"The four of you don't need one finisher."

"You need several."

Everyone looked at him.

"Champions evolve."

"So should factions."

"A four-person finish."

"A tag finish."

"Something spontaneous."

"So opponents never know which ending is coming."

Marcy nodded slowly.

"I like that."

Joanna smiled.

"So do I."

Daniel climbed back out of the ring.

"I'll sketch out a few ideas."

"...and before anyone asks..."

He looked over his shoulder.

"No."

"I'm not calling one of them 'The Face Sitter.'"

The four women burst into laughter.

As Daniel disappeared toward another ring, Leah shook her head.

"You know..."

"...this might actually work."

Marcy looked around the ring.

Four women.

Four different personalities.

Four different ambitions.

Yet somehow...

The movements were beginning to synchronize.

Not because they had become friends.

Because they were slowly becoming a team.

Joanna leaned against the wall outside one of the Imperial Academy training halls, her gym bag hanging from one shoulder. The building had grown quiet. Most of the trainees had gone home hours ago, leaving only the occasional thud from a ring being dismantled somewhere in the distance.

She checked the time.

Far too late by Cleveland standards.

Probably just right for Daral Lake.

She smiled and pressed the call button.

The phone barely rang once.

"Joanna."

"Hi."

Zas immediately heard it.

"You sound tired."

"I am."

There was a long sigh from Joanna, followed by an unmistakable laugh.

"…but it's the good kind."

"I'm listening."

She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor.

"I think we're actually becoming a team."

"Oh?"

"The Total Babes." She grinned despite nobody being there to see it. "We're finally starting to click."

"What changed?"

"I don't know if it was one thing."

She rested her head against the wall.

"We've been rehearsing entrances together... practicing the tandem offense... talking through promos... figuring out who does what without stepping on each other's toes."

"There are still a few rough spots."

"I'm still occasionally in Magnolia's way."

"Cotton and I mistime things every now and then."

"Georgia is still learning when to interfere without looking obvious."

"…but..."

She laughed again.

"We're operational."

There was unmistakable pride in her voice.

"…and Sugar Cane..."

"What about Sugar Cane?"

"I think she finally exists."

Zas smiled.

"You've found her."

"I really have."

"I know what she sounds like now."

"I know how she walks."

"I know how she smiles."

"I know when she's Joanna and when she's... well... Sugar."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"…and the funny thing is..."

"A lot of my ideas actually survived."

"Oh?"

"The Blue Rose."

"The entrance."

"The music."

"The whole unattainable thing."

"The little details."

"I kept waiting for Vince to throw half of them in the trash."

"He didn't."

Zas chuckled softly.

"So he gave you no trouble?"

"Oh, he gave me one."

She rolled her eyes.

"He wanted to call our tag finisher..."

She paused dramatically.

"...'The Climax.'"

Silence.

Then Zas said, very carefully,

"I see."

"I told him absolutely not."

"You refused."

"I fought him."

"You fought Vince McGeady."

"I did."

"…and won."

"I did."

"What convinced him?"

"I think Cathy nearly died trying not to laugh."

"Triple X just buried his face in his notebook."

"Eventually Vince shrugged and said, 'Fine. Pick something better.'"

"So we did."

Zas smiled.

"I suppose I should ask."

"You may."

"What is the finisher called?"

Joanna grinned.

"Nope."

"No?"

"You'll have to watch the first match."

He laughed.

"So there is a first match."

"There is."

That immediately caught his attention.

"When?"

"Not Buffalo."

"No?"

She shook her head.

"They changed plans."

"We're debuting on Combat Arts television first."

"The story is that the four of us are officially coming together."

"We'll get the audience used to us."

"Then we'll set up another match for the Premium Live Event."

"So Buffalo becomes the next chapter instead of the first."

"I think it's smarter."

Zas nodded, though she couldn't see him.

"It allows people to know who you are before asking them to care."

"Exactly."

There was a brief silence.

Then Zas sighed.

"Hm."

"What?"

"I wonder whether we shall need another feast."

Joanna laughed.

"Oh no."

"The Elder may object."

"I can already hear him."

"'Another feast? We held one last week.'"

"'The grain stores are not limitless, Zas.'"

Joanna covered her face with one hand, laughing harder.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't make the television schedule."

"I barely know the television schedule."

"Wrestling just... works like this."

"You do one show."

"Then another."

"Then another."

"Sometimes you don't wrestle for two weeks."

"Sometimes you wrestle three nights in five days."

"It's wonderfully disorganized."

"So this problem belongs to Daral Lake."

"It does."

"You'll have to negotiate with your Elder."

Zas sighed theatrically.

"I fear this will require diplomacy."

"Peace has nothing on convincing the Elder to authorize a second celebration."

She laughed again.

"I'm staying out of that one."

"Wise."

"I learned from the best."

"You learned diplomacy from me?"

"No."

She smiled.

"I learned survival."

That earned a genuine laugh from Zas.

"Fair enough."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

They simply enjoyed hearing the other breathing across half the world.

Finally Joanna stretched her aching shoulders.

"I should head home."

"The girls are probably asleep."

"I hope."

"I hope so as well."

She smiled.

"I'll call you after the match."

"I'll be waiting."

"…and Zas?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really proud of this."

"I know."

His answer came without hesitation.

"I can hear it."

She closed her eyes.

"Good."

"I wanted you to."

"Then sleep."

"You've earned it."

"I'll try."

"Goodnight, Joanna."

"Goodnight, Zas."

The call ended.

Joanna remained seated on the Academy floor for another minute, smiling to herself.

Sugar Cane was no longer just an idea.

In a few days, the world would finally meet her.

 









 

The Warrior and The Wren, No. 16

 

Chronicle 16

A knock echoed through the condo.

Joanna looked up from the kitchen.

"I'll get it."

She opened the door.

Standing outside was a tall man wearing a dark blue Peace jacket over plain clothes.

He smiled warmly.

"Good afternoon."

"Elian."

Joanna smiled.

"Come on in."

"Routine visit."

"I figured."

As he stepped inside, two voices immediately rang out from the living room.

"Keanu!"

Elian sighed dramatically.

"I was wondering how long that would take."

Phoebe laughed.

"You really do look like him."

"I've been told."

"For years."

Armintie tilted her head.

"So..."

She asked very seriously.

"...have you ever done Bullet Time?"

Joanna couldn't resist joining in.

"Or dodged bullets in Bullet Time?"

Elian rubbed his lower back.

"No."

"...and if I tried..."

"...my back would never forgive me."

The girls laughed.

"So no kung fu either?" Joanna asked.

"I took one self-defence course."

"Does that count?"

"It depends."

"Against Agent Smith?"

"Definitely not."

Joanna stepped aside.

"You're lucky."

"I hear he's difficult."

"I've read the reports."

Elian deadpanned.

"I decided not to investigate."

The laughter made the visit feel less like an inspection and more like an old friend dropping by.

He accepted a cup of coffee before opening a small notebook.

"All right."

"Business."

He smiled apologetically.

"I have to ask."

He looked first at Phoebe.

"How are you settling in?"

She smiled.

"Really well."

"I like Cleveland."

"I still miss Dad."

"...and Arel-Sin."

"...but..."

She looked toward Joanna.

"...I'm happy here."

Elian made a brief note.

"School registration?"

"Almost finished," Joanna answered.

"We're just waiting on one document."

"Excellent."

He turned to Armintie.

"...and you?"

Armintie smiled brightly.

"I like it."

"I've never seen so many buses."

"...or elevators."

"...or restaurants."

"...or pigeons."

Elian nodded.

"Those are certainly some of Cleveland's defining characteristics."

Armintie became a little quieter.

"There is one problem."

"Oh?"

She pointed toward the living room.

"Fido likes Phoebe more."

Phoebe looked offended.

"He does not."

"He sleeps on your bed."

"Sometimes."

"He follows you."

"Sometimes."

"He wagged his tail at you first this morning."

Joanna chuckled.

"I don't think dogs keep score."

"They absolutely do," Armintie insisted.

Elian smiled.

"I've investigated many serious disputes."

"This..."

He looked thoughtfully at Fido, who had wandered over and was now lying happily across both girls' feet.

"...doesn't strike me as one of them."

Armintie looked down.

Fido had somehow managed to position himself so that one paw rested on her foot and another on Phoebe's.

She smiled despite herself.

"...Maybe he likes both of us."

"I believe," Elian said, closing his notebook, "that is my professional opinion."

Joanna laughed.

"Good."

"I'd hate to have to mediate a custody battle over a golden retriever."

"I charge by the hour."

"You do not."

"I don't."

Everyone laughed.

Elian slipped the notebook back into his jacket.

"Well."

"I've seen what I needed to see."

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

"Which is?"

He looked around the condo.

The girls were relaxed.

The kitchen smelled like dinner.

Fido was snoring contentedly.

Joanna looked tired.

...but she also looked happy.

He smiled.

"A family."

Joanna's expression softened.

"...Thank you."

Elian nodded.

"Keep doing what you're doing."

"I think you're all going to be just fine."

As he reached the door, Armintie called after him.

"Bye, Keanu!"

Elian didn't even turn around.

"It's Elian."

A beat.

"...but I'll answer to Keanu."

The door closed.

Joanna smiled to herself.

"I think he secretly likes it."

Outside in the hallway, Elian shook his head and chuckled.

"...Maybe a little."


The music department was far quieter than the wrestling gym.

Rows of guitars lined one wall.

Keyboards occupied another.

The centrepiece of the room was a recording workstation dominated by three large computer monitors.

John Fivestone waved Joanna over.

"Welcome to the fun part."

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

"After trying on those outfits?"

"...Fair point."

She sat beside him.

"So..."

John cracked his knuckles dramatically.

"Here's how this works."

He tapped the keyboard.

"You tell me what you're looking for."

"I build something."

"We listen."

"If it stinks..."

He shrugged.

"...we throw it away."

"If it almost works..."

"...we tweak it."

"...and once everyone's happy?"

"I get real musicians to record it."

Joanna looked at the screen.

"So today's just a demo?"

"Exactly."

"The computers are fast."

"The musicians are better."

She smiled.

"I like that philosophy."

John opened the music software.

"All right."

"Let's start with the obvious."

He sighed.

"Vince wants..."

"...a sexy entrance."

Joanna nodded.

"I don't mind sexy."

John looked surprised.

"You don't?"

"No."

She thought for a moment.

"I mind empty."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want Sugar Cane to be somebody's arm candy."

She leaned back.

"I want people to look at her and think..."

"...she knows exactly how attractive she is..."

"...and she doesn't need anyone's permission."

John stopped typing.

"I like that."

Joanna smiled.

"To me..."

"...Sugar Cane is the blue rose."

"The one nobody can have."

"The one that's always just out of reach."

John nodded slowly.

"So..."

"Confident."

"Dangerous."

"Playful."

"...but..."

"...never desperate."

"Exactly."

His fingers danced across the keyboard.

A beat began.

Light.

Bouncy.

Sweet.

Joanna listened for fifteen seconds.

"No."

John immediately hit delete.

"Too sugary."

Another attempt.

This one was slower.

Heavier.

Almost sinister.

She shook her head.

"Too serious."

Delete.

Third attempt.

Dance beat.

Electronic synths.

A catchy hook.

She nodded.

"Closer."

John adjusted the tempo.

Changed the bass.

Added guitars.

Removed them.

Added claps.

Removed those too.

The afternoon slowly disappeared.

Every version brought them a little closer.

Eventually...

John leaned back.

The newest demo filled the room.

It carried a playful swagger.

Confident rather than flirtatious.

Danceable without sounding disposable.

It felt less like someone asking for attention...

...and more like someone daring the audience to keep up.

Joanna smiled.

"There."

John looked over.

"There?"

She nodded.

"That's Sugar Cane."

He played it again.

Then again.

Finally he grinned.

"I think we've got it."

Joanna sat quietly for another moment before speaking.

"I have one more request."

"Shoot."

"I want to sing it."

John turned in his chair.

"You sing?"

"I used to."

"When?"

"School."

"I had a band before wrestling."

"I've never recorded professionally."

"...but I'd like to try."

John studied her for several seconds.

Then smiled.

"You know..."

"I wasn't aware of that."

"I don't advertise it."

He nodded.

"Well..."

He clicked open another folder.

"Everybody gets one shot."

Joanna laughed.

"Only one?"

"The second one depends on the first."

"Fair enough."

He stood.

"I'll book some studio time."

"No promises."

"No pressure."

"If it works..."

He smiled.

"...people won't just hear Sugar Cane."

"They'll hear Joanna too."

For the first time since Vince had unveiled the gimmick, Joanna felt something unexpected.

Excitement.

Not because Sugar Cane was becoming the character Vince imagined.

Because, piece by piece...

She was becoming the character she imagined.

Two days later, Joanna found herself standing outside Studio Three.

She stared at the small illuminated sign.

RECORDING

"This suddenly feels different."

John Fivestone looked up from the mixing desk.

"You've done camera work."

"I know."

"I've recorded vignettes."

"I've done interviews."

"I've shouted into microphones."

He smiled.

"This isn't shouting."

"No."

She looked through the glass into the vocal booth.

"...It's singing."

Somehow...

That felt far more personal.


John handed her a pair of headphones.

"Relax."

"I'll play the demo."

"You don't have to be perfect."

"We're not making the final record today."

She nodded.

"I know."

"...I just wish my stomach knew."

John laughed.

"Fair."

She stepped into the booth.

The headphones settled over her ears.

The microphone stood directly in front of her.

Suddenly it felt enormous.

John's voice crackled through the headphones.

"Comfortable?"

"I think so."

"Good."

"I'm rolling."

The instrumental began.

The beat she'd helped create filled her ears.

She took a breath.

Missed her first cue.

"...Sorry."

John smiled.

"Again."

The music restarted.

She came in too early.

Stopped.

Laughed nervously.

"Nope."

"Again."

The third attempt wasn't much better.

She found the melody.

Lost the rhythm.

Forgot half a line.

Winced.

"I'm sorry."

John leaned toward the microphone.

"Jo."

"Yeah?"

"You're thinking."

"I have to."

"No."

"You don't."

She frowned.

"What?"

"You're trying to sing correctly."

"I want you to sing honestly."

She looked unconvinced.

"I'm serious."

"Forget me."

"Forget the microphones."

"Forget Vince."

"Forget the Academy."

"Just tell the story."

He restarted the track.

Joanna closed her eyes.

Still...

Her shoulders remained tight.

She missed another entrance.

"...Sorry."

She sighed.

"I can't do this."

She rested one hand against the microphone stand.

Then...

Almost without thinking...

She remembered another voice.

"Focus."

Zas.

"Shut out the noise."

"Do not force it."

"One step."

"Then another."

"Trust yourself."

She slowly inhaled.

Opened her eyes.

Smiled.

"One more."

John simply nodded.

The music began again.

This time...

She didn't count.

She didn't analyze.

She just listened.

When her cue arrived...

She stepped into it naturally.

The hesitation disappeared.

Her voice wasn't the biggest.

It wasn't the most technically perfect.

...but it had warmth.

Confidence.

Playfulness.

The kind of voice that sounded like it belonged to someone who knew exactly who she was.

John stopped taking notes.

By the second verse...

He was simply listening.

The final note faded.

Silence filled the studio.

Joanna slowly removed one side of the headphones.

"...Well?"

John blinked.

"You've done this before."

"I told you."

"No."

"I mean properly."

She laughed.

"No."

"I sang in school."

"I had a little band before wrestling."

"...but..."

She shrugged.

"Wrestling happened."

John leaned back in his chair.

"...That's a shame."

Joanna tilted her head.

"Why?"

"Because you're good."

She smiled.

"I'm not that good."

"No."

He agreed immediately.

"You're not."

She blinked.

"...Thanks?"

He laughed.

"I mean you're not trying to be the greatest singer in the world."

"You're telling a story."

"...and people believe you."

"I can teach technique."

"I can't teach that."

Joanna looked through the glass at him.

"I always wanted to sing."

She admitted it so quietly she almost surprised herself.

"Before wrestling."

John nodded.

"I believe you."

He reached for the keyboard.

The session automatically saved.

A file name appeared on the monitor.

SC_THEME_DEMO_04

John frowned.

"...That's boring."

He clicked once.

The cursor blinked.

"What should we call it?"

Joanna looked through the studio window.

She didn't answer immediately.

Then she smiled.

"The Blue Rose."

John stopped typing.

He looked up.

"That's perfect."

He pressed Enter.

The new file name appeared.

The Blue Rose (Working Demo)

Joanna stared at it for a long moment.

It wasn't just the title of a song anymore.

It was becoming the identity she'd been searching for.

Not Vince's Sugar Cane.

Not Bork's Sugar Cane.

Not even the audience's Sugar Cane.

Her Sugar Cane.

The following week, Bork found himself making alterations for the third time.

He didn't mind.

This was part of the process.

Joanna stood in front of a mirror wearing the latest version of Sugar Cane's gear.

It was still unmistakably Sugar Cane.

Still glamorous.

Still eye-catching.

Still revealing enough to satisfy Vince McGeady's vision.

...but...

It was changing.

"What if..."

Joanna pointed toward one side of the top.

"...we worked a blue rose into the stitching?"

Bork nodded thoughtfully.

"Embroidery?"

"Maybe."

"Or a subtle pattern."

He made a note.

"I like that."

"...and..."

She hesitated.

"I was thinking..."

"...a blue rose here."

She pointed to the centre of her chest.

Bork smiled sympathetically.

"I can already tell you Vince's answer."

"...Too much fabric?"

"He'll want cleavage."

Joanna sighed.

"I figured."

She thought for another moment.

"All right."

"What if..."

She turned around.

"...we put it here?"

She pointed to the back of her wrestling trunks.

Bork tilted his head.

Then smiled.

"...Actually."

"...that fits."

"It does?"

"It gives people something to remember."

"It also makes it feel..."

He searched for the word.

"...hidden."

Joanna smiled.

"Exactly."

"The Blue Rose isn't supposed to announce itself."

"It reveals itself."

Bork scribbled another note.

"I can work with that."

Before he could continue, another woman entered carrying a thick binder.

"Am I interrupting?"

Joanna smiled.

"Cathy."

"Perfect timing."

Cathy Greenwall set the binder on the table.

Officially she was the WFE's Creative Director.

Unofficially...

She preferred another title.

"I usually tell people I'm a consultant."

Joanna laughed.

"Why?"

Cathy smiled knowingly.

"Because Vince has final say."

"Always."

"My job is to give him good ideas."

"Whether he uses them..."

She shrugged.

"...is another matter."

She opened the binder.

"So."

"The Total Babes."

Several pages contained sketches.

Character notes.

Story ideas.

Potential rivalries.

"I've been thinking about you..."

She pointed toward Joanna's page.

"...and Cotton Candy."

Joanna nodded.

"What about us?"

"I think the two of you work beautifully together."

"Cotton is fearless."

"Impulsive."

"She runs into trouble because it looks fun."

Joanna laughed.

"That sounds like Carly."

"I imagined Sugar being..."

Cathy paused.

"...the methodical one."

"The planner."

"The one always thinking three steps ahead."

Joanna considered it.

Then slowly shook her head.

"I actually think it's the opposite."

"Oh?"

"Carly absolutely has a mischievous streak."

"...but..."

Joanna smiled.

"...I met the love of my life because I did something incredibly bold."

"I crossed half the world."

"I challenged a mountain warrior."

"I adopted two daughters."

"I don't think Sugar should be cautious."

She tapped the Blue Rose sketch.

"I think she should be fearless."

"...but not reckless."

"There's a difference."

Cathy nodded, intrigued.

"Go on."

"I don't want Sugar looking stupid."

"I don't want Cotton having to rescue her because she's made another bad decision."

"I'd rather..."

She thought carefully.

"...Sugar is the one willing to take the first step."

"The impossible step."

"...and Cotton?"

"The voice of reason."

"...but..."

Joanna smiled.

"Not because she's smarter."

"Because every bold person needs someone willing to ask..."

"'Have you actually thought this through?'"

Cathy laughed.

"I like that much better."

She grabbed a pen.

"What about the Blue Rose?"

Joanna's expression softened.

"I've been thinking about her a lot."

"'Her?'"

"The Blue Rose."

Joanna nodded.

"I don't think she's just part of the entrance anymore."

"I think..."

"...she's Sugar Cane's alter ego."

"The side people never quite understand."

"Playful."

"Desirable."

"Confident."

"Mysterious."

"The woman everyone wants..."

"...but nobody can quite reach."

Cathy stopped writing.

For several seconds she simply looked at Joanna.

Then she smiled.

"I think..."

She quietly closed the binder.

"...you've just figured your character out."

Joanna looked back at herself in the mirror.

The outfit hadn't changed very much.

...but somehow...

The woman wearing it had.

Sugar Cane was no longer just a gimmick Vince McGeady had handed her.

She was becoming someone Joanna understood.

Someone Joanna could believe in.

The Blue Rose.

The final piece remained.

The entrance.

The music existed.

The gear existed.

The Blue Rose existed.

Now Joanna had to make all three become one person.

The Academy's entrance stage wasn't nearly as elaborate as Combat Arts', but it was large enough to rehearse.

Triple X sat halfway up the empty seating area with a notebook.

Beside him sat Joey Ace, one of the Academy's producers and a former wrestler whose greatest talent now seemed to be noticing details nobody else did.

"You ready?" X called.

Joanna took one last breath.

"As I'll ever be."

The lights dimmed.

John Fivestone's demo began to play through the arena speakers.

The opening beat echoed throughout the building.

Joanna stepped through the curtain.

She wore her hair in two high pigtails.

Over her wrestling gear was a sleeveless white blouse tied just above the waist.

A large embroidered blue rose rested over the left side.

Her short pleated skirt carried subtle blue rose patterns woven into the fabric.

Blue roses climbed the fishnet stockings almost like vines.

Even her wrestling boots had been redesigned to resemble polished school loafers.

Only someone looking carefully would notice the halter-style wrestling top beneath the blouse.

Or the blue rose embroidered over her heart.

Or the matching rose hidden on the back of her trunks.

She smiled.

Skipped twice.

Twirled the oversized lollipop between her fingers.

Then licked it with an exaggerated grin before continuing down the ramp.

There wasn't an ounce of embarrassment in her movements.

She wasn't trying to shock people.

She was inviting them into her game.

Halfway down the aisle she stopped.

Looked toward one side of the empty arena.

Placed both hands on her hips.

Then slowly swayed them with a teasing confidence before turning toward the opposite side and repeating the gesture.

She reached ringside.

Paused in front of the hard camera.

Looked directly into the lens.

A mischievous smile spread across her face.

Another playful sway.

Then she climbed onto the apron.

Before stepping through the ropes she glanced toward Triple X.

Without breaking eye contact...

She gave him one last exaggerated hip shake.

Joey burst out laughing.

Triple X simply shook his head.

"You knew exactly where I was sitting."

"I might have guessed."

Inside the ring Joanna walked calmly to the centre.

The music reached its final chorus.

She lowered the lollipop.

Folded one arm behind her back.

Lifted her chin.

And smiled.

Not a friendly smile.

A knowing one.

The kind that seemed to say...

"You can look."

"You just can't have me."

The music faded.

Silence.

Then applause.

Triple X closed his notebook.

"I like it."

Joanna exhaled.

"...but..."

She laughed.

"There's always a 'but.'"

"There is."

He walked down toward ringside.

"I think you're finding the character."

"I just want a little more interaction."

"Don't rush to the ring."

"Own the ramp."

"Make them wait for you."

Joanna nodded thoughtfully.

"I can do that."

Joey leaned against the apron.

"I've got one."

"The lollipop."

Joanna looked down at it.

"What about it?"

"I wouldn't throw it away."

"You wouldn't?"

He shook his head.

"It isn't just candy."

"It's part of the character."

"If Sugar Cane enjoys annoying people..."

He smiled.

"...she'd keep licking it all the way to the ring."

Joanna laughed.

"That's somehow even more obnoxious."

"Exactly."

"...and afterward?"

"We'll have someone hand you a little bag."

"Or just keep one behind the curtain."

"No point making the prop disposable."

Triple X nodded.

"I actually agree."

Joanna twirled the lollipop again.

"You know..."

"...that is kind of funny."

"It tells people she's perfectly happy making everyone else wait."

Joey snapped his fingers.

"Now you're thinking like a heel."

Joanna smiled.

"I don't actually think she's a heel."

"No?"

Triple X asked.

She looked back toward the stage where she'd just entered.

"I think..."

"...she enjoys keeping people guessing."

X smiled.

"The Blue Rose."

Joanna nodded.

"The Blue Rose."

Triple X closed his notebook.

"I think Vince is going to like this."

Joanna looked down at the blue rose stitched over her heart.

For the first time since Vince had pitched Sugar Cane...

She wasn't rehearsing someone else's character anymore.

She was introducing her own.

Three days later...

The Academy suddenly became much quieter.

Word had spread.

Vince McGeady was in the building.

Nobody announced his arrival.

Nobody needed to.

People simply stood a little straighter.

Triple X glanced toward Joanna.

"You ready?"

She swallowed.

"...No."

"Good."

"That means you care."

A door opened near the back of the arena.

Vince walked in carrying nothing more than a notebook and a bottle of water.

He wasn't an imposing man physically.

His reputation did all the heavy lifting.

Without saying a word he climbed into the front row.

Triple X, Joey Ace, Bork, Cathy Greenwall and John Fivestone exchanged nervous glances.

Joanna noticed.

"You all look terrified."

Bork smiled weakly.

"We've all been fired at least once."

"I wasn't."

"You will be."

Joanna laughed nervously.

"Places."

Triple X called.

The lights dimmed.

John's opening music filled the arena.

Joanna stepped through the curtain.

Everything she'd practiced flowed naturally.

The skipping.

The playful smile.

The slow walk down the ramp.

The teasing glances toward imaginary fans.

She worked both sides of the arena.

Stopped in front of the hard camera.

Then...

Seeing Vince sitting alone...

She walked directly toward him.

She bent slightly at the waist.

Looked him squarely in the eyes.

Then, with the tiniest mischievous grin...

Slowly rolled her hips.

Never breaking eye contact.

Vince didn't react.

Not even a smile.

Joanna simply continued toward the ring.

She finished the entrance exactly as rehearsed.

The final pose.

The Blue Rose smile.

Silence.

The music faded.

Nobody spoke.

Triple X looked at Vince.

Joey looked at Vince.

Bork looked at Vince.

Even John stopped pretending to organize cables.

Vince remained seated.

His notebook stayed closed.

Finally...

He stood.

Walked toward the ring.

"You figured her out."

Joanna blinked.

"...I did?"

"You did."

He nodded toward Cathy.

"Good work."

Toward Bork.

"Looks good."

Toward John.

"Music's a keeper."

John quietly exhaled.

Then Vince looked back at Joanna.

"The blue roses."

"What about them?"

"What do they mean?"

Joanna smiled.

"The Blue Rose."

"The one nobody can have."

"The mystery."

"The part of Sugar Cane people keep chasing."

Vince nodded slowly.

"I like that."

He paused.

"No."

"I really like that."

He started pacing.

"If we're doing Blue Rose..."

"...let's lean into it."

Everyone immediately reached for notebooks.

"First."

He pointed toward the oversized lollipop.

"Lose it."

Joanna looked surprised.

"You don't like it?"

"I don't dislike it."

"...but everybody throws something into the crowd."

He mimed tossing an object.

"You?"

He smiled.

"Carry a blue rose."

"A real one."

"Or one we make."

"When you're halfway down the ramp..."

He made another throwing motion.

"Throw it into the audience."

"Somebody catches it."

"They'll treasure it."

"The Blue Rose."

Joanna slowly nodded.

"I actually like that."

"Good."

"Second."

He pointed toward the speakers.

"The music."

"It's great."

John smiled proudly.

"...but it needs an opening."

"What kind?"

"The crowd should know it's you before the beat drops."

He snapped his fingers.

"Glass breaking."

"Bell ringing."

"Something."

He looked at Joanna.

"Maybe..."

He lowered his voice slightly.

"...you whisper..."

"'I'm here.'"

He shrugged.

"Or..."

"'Hey, baby.'"

"The second they hear it..."

He pointed toward the imaginary audience.

"They pop."

John was already making notes.

"I can do that."

"Third."

He looked back at Joanna's outfit.

"The blouse."

"The skirt."

"They're staying?"

"They're leaving."

Joanna frowned.

"...Leaving?"

"Not completely."

He walked halfway down the aisle.

"You wear them down the ramp."

"You work the crowd."

"Then..."

He pointed toward ringside.

"Take them off."

"Right there."

He smiled.

"It announces your arrival."

"Now the audience sees the wrestler."

"...and..."

He grinned.

"...the cameras get a better look at the entrance gear."

Bork nodded.

"Actually..."

"...that's really clean."

"Fourth."

Vince looked directly at Joanna.

"I want them believing they almost have a chance."

She listened carefully.

"Blow kisses."

"Wink."

"Brush somebody's hand."

"If you're comfortable..."

"Touch someone's cheek."

"Not because you're flirting."

He shook his head.

"Because you're teasing."

"The Blue Rose lets people dream."

"...but..."

He smiled.

"...she never actually belongs to them."

Joanna's eyes widened slightly.

"...I understand."

"...and finally."

He crouched beside one boot.

He picked it up gently.

Turned it over.

The sole was plain black.

"Hm."

He looked at Bork.

"Blue rose."

"...On the bottom?"

"Right here."

He tapped the sole.

"When she kicks somebody..."

He looked back at Joanna.

"...the last thing they see..."

"...is the Blue Rose."

Silence.

Then Bork slowly smiled.

"I wish I'd thought of that."

"So do I," Cathy admitted.

Triple X laughed.

"That's why he owns the company."

Vince handed the boot back to Joanna.

"There."

He looked around at the entire group.

"Now she's complete."

Joanna looked down at the costume in her hands.

It wasn't the Sugar Cane Vince had originally imagined.

Nor was it entirely the one she had imagined.

Somehow...

It had become something better.

A collaboration.

The Blue Rose had bloomed.


The call came just before noon in Cleveland.

Which meant...

It was evening at Daral Lake.

Zas had only recently begun getting used to time zones.

At first they had seemed like magic.

Now they merely seemed inconvenient.

He wiped his hands on a cloth before answering the satellite phone.

Around him, several goats continued wandering between the fences while Azamat attempted to herd them with considerably more enthusiasm than success.

"Left!"

Azamat shouted.

The goat went right.

"...I meant your other left."

Zas smiled as he answered.

"Hello."

"Hey."

Joanna's voice immediately brightened his mood.

"Busy?"

"Only watching Azamat lose an argument with a goat."

"I'm losing!"

Azamat shouted in the background.

"The goat refuses to cooperate!"

"The goat appears to disagree."

Joanna laughed.

"I miss this place."

"So do we."

"So..."

"How's Sugar Cane?"

Joanna smiled.

"She's finally becoming real."

"Oh?"

"I performed the complete entrance today."

"For Vince."

Zas waited.

"...and?"

"He loved it."

"He still had changes."

"Of course."

"...but..."

She smiled to herself.

"...he liked what we'd created."

"The character isn't just his anymore."

"I actually like her."

Zas nodded.

"I knew you would."

"I wasn't nearly as confident."

"You never are."

She laughed.

"Fair."

"What about Daral Lake?"

"Everything is peaceful."

"Mostly."

He glanced toward Azamat.

"Your wrestling scholar remains hard at work."

Joanna laughed immediately.

"Still?"

"He has now informed several villagers about..."

Zas checked a small notebook.

"...'kay-fab.'"

She covered her face.

"Oh, Azamat..."

"He also attempted to explain the..."

He frowned.

"...En-zig-gurry."

"Enzuigiri."

"I was closer."

"You were."

"...and he remains convinced that the Stone Cold Bottom is among wrestling's greatest techniques."

Joanna laughed again.

"I'm almost tempted not to correct him anymore."

"I have reached the same conclusion."

"He is enjoying Japanese wrestling enormously."

"So I've heard."

"He is also enjoying the communal Wi-Fi."

Zas sighed.

"Rather too much."

"He keeps reaching the daily time limit."

Joanna grinned.

"You're enforcing it?"

"I have to."

"The entire village wishes to use the computers."

"I cannot allow one man to consume all the bandwidth watching wrestling."

"Tell him to download fewer matches."

"I do not know what that means."

She laughed.

"I'll explain another day."

"...and Arel-Sin?"

"He has returned to school."

"Eve is teaching again."

"How's he doing?"

"He is currently wrestling..."

Zas paused.

"...with algebra."

Joanna smiled.

"Winning?"

"I believe algebra is ahead on points."

She laughed.

"...and his attention span?"

"The usual."

"He pays close attention for approximately three minutes."

"That sounds like him."

They both smiled.

Then Zas remembered something.

"Has Vince announced your first match?"

Joanna's smile faded slightly.

"...Not yet."

Zas nodded.

"I thought perhaps..."

"The Elder keeps asking."

"I know."

"He wishes to prepare."

"...but he cannot announce the feast until there is a date."

"I understand."

"It isn't your fault."

"I know."

She sighed.

"The best I can tell you..."

"...is that there's a Premium Live Event in Buffalo."

"I think..."

"...that's where The Total Babes will debut."

"...but..."

She laughed quietly.

"...it's Vince."

"I never know until he tells me."

Zas smiled.

"Then we shall continue preparing."

"...and when you know..."

"I'll call immediately."

"I promise."

"I know you will."

Azamat suddenly wandered into earshot carrying a shovel over one shoulder.

"Ask if Goldsteen is wrestling."

Joanna burst into laughter.

"It's Goldstein!"

Azamat looked genuinely disappointed.

"I liked Goldsteen."

"I know you did," Zas replied.

Joanna could hear the smile in his voice.

She realized something.

For the first time since leaving the Blade...

This conversation hadn't been about missing one another.

Or sadness.

Or uncertainty.

It had simply been two people talking about their day.

...and somehow...

That ordinary little conversation made the thousands of miles between them feel much smaller.