13. Cheyanne

My heart is beating a mile a minute. I adore The Faun Arena, and I'm jazzed about this match. Home turf. Where I belong.

"Girls, I just got word from the box office. Sold-out crowd!"

I cheer, and Camie and I do the dance of joy in the ring.

Two days ago, I wasn't sure of anything after that debacle with Bob at the Bang-ga-lang. But now I'm dead sure. Things feel so right. I smile. One good thing came out of that Bigfoot meeting — Ronan's arm around me the whole time we were sitting there. Wow. That was a shock. I didn't move a muscle for fear he'd realize and pull away.

Then, Camie and I rocked the last gig we played. We paired up with a hero duo who were just as fresh off the vine as Camie and me. All four of us slogged it out like we had nothing to lose. New characters, airtime, and room to rumble. It was fantastic!

"Chey, you're daydreaming. Stop it, girl. We still have a shit-ton to do to get ready and the lights go up in mere hours. Shake your booty."

I laugh and fake salute. "You caught me."

Camie throws me a pile of towels to store under the ring. "What were you dreaming? It must have been juicy. You looked all googly-eyed."

"Googly-eyed? What are you, ten?"

"Hey, listen, I can read googly-eyes."

"Nothing. It was nothing. Just thinking back to our last win against those two girls, Hazy and Hanna, the Milking Maiden Twins. And I guess imagining this place full and you and I rocking the ring again, that's all," I lie. No way I'm touching my true thoughts. No time for that.

"You betcha we're going to rock this place. You and I seriously have our cues down now. No more last-minute brain waves and hail Mary passes. We know our signals. Even Mom said we looked awesome in the last practice. These ticket holders should get a refund."

I look up, shocked. "Why do you say that?"

"‘Cause they're not going to spend one minute sitting down. They'll be hooting and stamping their feet. We're going to be that good."

We both howl like wolves and fist-pump the air.

"You two fooling around or getting things done down there?"

It's Marie over the intercom. She's been watching us from her office. That darn one-way glass.

"Oops, your mom has bellowed. We better get this gear in place and get a move on. I want to hit the lockers early and have more time to get my Disastra makeup on just right."

"Yep, that's my mom, the wrestling 4-star general. I hate that one-way glass she has."

I laugh. "You read my mind."

Camie and I set up the judge's table, and then head backstage. On our way there, I take a last glance at the place. It's massive, all stainless steel, glass, and all the newest techno features. The bleachers go up and up and stretch as far as my head can turn, left and right.

I heard what Marie said, but I can't believe this place is sold out for us, for our bad character selves. Hell, what am I saying? For me, for Disastra. It's wild.

I tap Camie on the shoulder.

"What?"

"Just take another look. We, you and me, are filling this entire place tonight. Us. We're the top ticket. Can you believe it?"

Camie smiles, puts her head on a swivel, and takes it all in. "I try not to think of it, actually. But I know what you mean. Listen, we are good. No. Scratch that. We are seriously great. We fight out there like ballerinas dance. Sure, people downplay what we do. But look at the timing and the strength involved. The public hasn't a clue. Our fans do, though. And speaking of, stop looking and start moving. This show won't start itself. And if we're late to the ring, my mom will dig us a couple of shallow graves out back."

I chuckle. "That I believe."

Camie and I, arm in arm, burst through the locker doors giggling. Warmup clothes fly, and we don our demon suits. In the flurry of sleeves and leggings, we chat.

"Mom and I talked the other night after that last gig. You know, Marie is really impressed with the chemistry you have with Ronan. It's like you train under him by instinct more than words."

I blush, feeling my cheeks heat up. I keep my head down and brush my hair to fit into my wig. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"And not to mention how he got us the heck out of Bob's place. Ronan knew his Bigfoot pal was being a dick around us. Good instinct there. As an orc, he could have made a right fighting mess out of that scene. Instead, he got us the heck out of Dodge, so to speak. It's like you have your very own bodyguard-slash-trainer in that man."

My flushed face finally dies down. I look up and stare at Camie through her vanity mirror. "Huh, you know, I hadn't looked at Ronan like that before. But you're right. He could have been typically orc-aggressive and ignored our feelings. But he didn't."

Camie nods, and my words reverberate through my body like I've never heard my voice before. An orc who cares. For us. For me?

I flashback to his arm around my waist. It felt warm around me. I felt protected. I curse at such girly desires. But why deny them when they're real? And they are so real.

I shake off the thoughts, slide my wig on, and sit down at the vanity to get the makeup right. I want to look as dramatic as I can tonight. Dangerously alluring. Yeah, that's the ticket.

I carefully outline my eyes and shape the liner to give me a menacing Cleopatra look. After I'm done, I sit back and admire the total look. No more Ms. Nice Gal. All Disastra, all the time.

I turn to face Camie. "So, what do you think? Have I outdone myself?"

Camie throws her hands up to her mouth. "Wow, you're scary sexy! You'll have to fend off the male fans tonight, chick."

We both giggle like schoolgirls.

I watch as Camie dons her cyborg appliance.

"You know, it's rare to have a new trainer and manager stick up for new talent against a venue owner, especially when that talent is brand new."

I sense what Camie is saying more than the words she's using. I avert my eyes and return to my mirror to apply my mask.

"Ignore me all you want, girlfriend, but I'm not blind. I saw Ronan hug your waist at Bob's. I didn't say a thing in front of you guys, of course. I mean, we were busy wanting to get out of that joint with all our limbs intact. Man, that Bob Balang is one big Bigfoot. Wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

I jerk my head. "You saw that? I mean, Ronan, his arm?"

"Heck, yeah." Camie laughs. "How could I not? He held onto you like he was Fort Knox and you were gold."

Camie practically sprains a neck vein, holding back a laugh. I throw a cotton ball at her. She throws it back.

"Hey, freak out all you want. But here's breaking news. I told my mom, too!"

My eyes pop. "You didn't!"

"Yeah, I did. How could I not? You guys looked adorable. Well, in an orc and human kind of way. Personally, both of your species seem iffy to me. But that's a faun's perspective." Camie sticks her tongue out at me.

Now I know there's no way I'm telling Camie how I truly feel. It'll get fired up to Marie at lightning speed. I decide to play it down, casual-like. Hell, I don't even know how I feel. How could I explain it to anyone else?

"Yeah, I guess you're right. For an orc, he's a good guy. But, you know, orcs aren't ones for overt affection, especially with the human set. I figure he knew we were vulnerable around Bob and was doing the protective orc thing that orcs do. He probably would have put his arm around you that day, too, if he could have reached your waist."

"Oh, Chey, c'mon. It was more than that. Ronan had you cinched up the entire time we were there."

"Maybe so, but you're putting too much into it. I'm telling you. It was thanks to an orc's protective nature, not some love-struck move. You know how when orcs are into mating it's so much more aggressive than that. It was just an instinctive reaction because of Bob."

Camie applies the last of her fake cyborg gear, gets up, and adjusts her suit to allow for ample stretching and free movement.

"I don't know, Chey. If I were you, I'd think twice about Ronan and his sights on you."

I get up and apply my cape. The put-together look is so real to me. I feel so different when I'm Disastra. It's a bad girl feeling, but inside it makes me glow like an angel. I don't have a clue if my Mom would be pleased. But I know I am.

"Orcs can, and do, defend, and protect other species all the time. We've both seen that action around town. I'm telling you. Ronan can act like that and not be in love."

"Okay, but how ‘bout you and I make a deal? The next time he's with you, you make a move. Or, if he makes another one, you don't object again. Instead, you move closer. You'll soon end this debate if you play along."

I smile. And that's all the time I have to do or say anything. The emcee is in the ring, and I can hear the crowd cheering. It's go time.