∵ ONCE UPON
A DREAM
✕ ✕ ✕
Scarlett leaned her head back against the wall and stifled her yawn with her nose, not caring how huge her nostrils must have looked to the officials around her and how unprofessional she would seem. After receiving not even a wink of sleep since Thursday's NXT show and Monday's disaster of a Raw, Scarlett was now forced to stand in the middle of the most boring and unnecessary meeting she had ever attended, left to distantly wonder what a soft mattress would feel like under her sore back.
"I'm calling it now," James Harrison, a man with a balding head and a strange orange coloured shirt raised his hand up as if he were calling dibs, "No Smackdown for Ambrose."
At the sound of his name, her sleepiness seemed to have been snatched right out of her and she stood up straighter looking alarmed and ready to interfere.
"Not possible," another man spoke above all the murmurs in the room, "Smackdown ratings are low as it is and to take an already advertised superstar off the card-"
"To shit with ratings, we both know Ambrose deserves some kind of punishment and I get to write him off whatever I want," he stood by his argument stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.
The man who had chosen to go against him looked confused, "But you can't just-"
"I do whatever the hell I want!" James interrupted, a look of defiance plastering itself on his face, "I run the whole thing, I make all the decisions and what I say goes!"
A sharp and purposeful voice finally put an end to James' rambling. "Mr. Harrison?" Scarlett said, feeling slightly uncertain but glad she could conceal it well, watching as he paled when her voice filled his ears. He turned to face her quietly. "If your ten seconds of glory are finished now, I'd like to remind you that you still have to ask me permission for every single thing you do. And it seems as though with you in charge of Smackdown," she raised an eyebrow, "the ratings really are going to shit, aren't they?"
Several sounds of muffled laughter could be heard around the room, before Scarlett's voice occupied the air once again. "Mr. Ambrose gets to wrestle in whatever match I decide to put him in this Thursday night. Whereas you? You will be enjoying Smackdown this Thursday from the comforts of your home." Adding a sympathetic glance at the end (but of of course inwardly hating herself for having to feel so much guilt), she watched with regret as the man breathed out a sigh, and walked out of the room without another word. It was a bit of a rash decision, and maybe she was being very biased because of her personal (raging) feelings, but the last thing she was going to do after this Monday was making Dean feel as if she were giving him some sort of punishing. She knew what he thought of her already; she didn't need him thinking any worse.
"That's all for today?"
Scarlett gulped, feeling a scratchy pain in her throat that caused her to frown. "Yes..thank you, that's all for now."
As the officials filed out of the room, the first burden didn't even get the chance to lift off of her shoulders before another one was dropped onto them by the presence of none other than the spawn of Lucifer himself.
Randy's sly smile was only met with a glum expression from Scarlett as she rolled her eyes, collecting her files and papers - ones which she was always required to bring (according to Stephanie, at least) but never needed to use.
