Chapter 1
Lydia had always been a big fan of wrestling. She followed it as much as she could, went to as many live events as possible, although it was kinda tough when she lived in the UK. There were only a set number of events a year, which bummed her out.
She loved the thrill of it all, the exhilaration and the suspense. If she were honest with herself, wrestling was nothing more than pure soap opera, but she figured she didn't watch any of the "regular" soap operas on TV so she could allow herself the luxury of indulging in wrestling.
She had her favourites, of course, the ones that she would stand by no matter what, Taker, Kane, HBK They were her perennial favourites, she would cheer so loudly for them, no matter if she were at an arena, or just watching on the TV at home. But there was one in particular who intrigued her, much to her annoyance.
John Morrison, aka John Hennigan. He'd tormented her for years, but of course, he never knew it. Even when he'd been dating Melina, and been unavailable, he still managed to torment Lydia. It was like an invisible hold that he definitely didn't know he had, but Lydia felt every time she saw him on TV.
She told herself that there was no way a perfect man like him would have anything to do with her. She was about 100lbs overweight and had definitely been holding the back of the pretty queue up. She was sensible enough to know that people like her never got people like him, but still her dreams were filled with him, he pervade her every sense and emotion, she knew it wasn't healthy, yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake him.
Nobody knew of her feelings, she kept them to herself for fear of being laughed at. She hated being laughed at, as if her emotions and feelings were churlish and unimportant, like she didn't matter. To her they felt real, as insane as that sounded. What she didn't realise was that Fate was about to bat for her team.
She'd been watching Raw on Thursday like normal when an announcement flashed up on screen about new events taking place in the UK. Of course she would be going, there was no question of her not. The best part was it was only 30 minutes from her house with a meet and greet beforehand. They hadn't said who was going to be at the meet and greet, but Lydia didn't mind. It was always nice to meet the superstars, no matter who they were. If she were lucky, it would be one of her favourites. It was always a thrill meeting them.
That Saturday, Lydia logged onto her computer and waited patiently to buy her tickets. She knew she had to be quick. Events sold out extremely quickly, and with there being a meet and greet beforehand, she knew she had to move like the wind in order to get some good seats. When her computer clock said 9am she moved swiftly, thanking heaven silently for her 70wpm average. She needed every ounce of quickness in her that day, and it paid off, she got ringside seats, a first even by her standards. Still there was no mention of who would be attending the meet and greet.
Lydia wasn't sure how she made it through the next 5 months without exploding, but she had and today was the day she was going to a show. The meet and greet had been scheduled for 5pm with the main even starting at 7pm, that gave her plenty of time to get herself ready. She knew she didn't want to make herself look like one of those desperate ring rats, women who made themselves look like strippers with the intentions of bagging themselves a superstar for a one night stand. Lydia had more refinement than that. Besides, she couldn't get a one night stand with a broom, how was she supposed to get lucky with a wrestling superstar?.
At 2pm she showered and washed her hair. That was probably one of her better features, along with her eyes and lips. Her hair was long, down to her waist and blonde, real blonde, not bottled, and when the light hit it just right, it looked like spun gold. She'd always been proud of her hair if nothing else. People had commented on her "come-to-bed" eyes and kissable, full lips on more than one occasion, and every time Lydia had laughed at the irony of it all. But she did like her eyes, they were perfect almond shape and a bright blue that had to be seen to be believed. Usually they were framed by thick plastic glasses so you couldn't see their full effect, but on days like these, she always wore her contacts, to make the best of what good features she had.