Beautiful Brutality

Chapter 1

       "Of course! Thank you so much, I look forward to working with you and I'll see you soon!"

       "We look forward to what you will bring to the table. Thanks Ashley, talk soon" The deep voice on the other end of the call says.

As I hang up the phone I have the biggest grin on my face. Just 2 years ago I was sitting behind a desk every day from 9-5 and now, I'm going to be the new makeup artist for WWE. Excited is an understatement.

My excitement is quickly overshadowed by anxiety.

"What if I'm not good enough? What if nobody likes me? What if my driving anxiety kicks in and I can't get somewhere? What if I'm across the globe from my friends and family and have a panic attack?"

  I push the thoughts aside and start my research. What is each superstars style? I was never allowed to watch WWE growing up. It was considered too "brutal" according to my mom. I got into it a little when I was in college because of one particular wrestler, but I haven't watched in years.

    After hours of pinning pictures to each superstars portfolio, I decided to get packing since I have an early flight tomorrow. I wasn't expecting this all to happen so fast. I'll probably need a whole other suitcase just for my makeup. What do I even wear? I mean it's professional to wear all black, that's the color of my whole wardrobe anyway but I want to make a good impression. I throw a couple options into my suitcase and go to bed, hoping to at least get a little bit of sleep.

      My alarm pulls me out of my sleep bright and early. I have to head straight to the arena for Raw, so I do my makeup and throw on a black sweatsuit. I'll change into something more professional when I get to the arena.

My whole flight was filled of unsure thoughts mixed with anxiety and excitement. I managed to use my iPad and make some makeup looks to keep myself busy.

After what felt like forever, my flight landed and I grabbed my luggage. I hate being in airports by myself, so many people.

I hopped in the blacked out SUV waiting for me outside the terminal and headed to the arena. When we arrived, we entered through a back gate and Triple H was waiting for me. I still find it strange to call him Triple H, as most people call him by Paul in the business world, but he insisted I call him Triple H "all the talent does" according to him.

"Ashley! So nice to meet you, let me take you to your station to get set up."

He led me down a long hallway around the arena, and after we had walked what felt like miles, we arrived at a long table set up with lights surrounding it outside of gorilla. I set my stuff down, and decided to go ahead and change. I would've changed at the airport if I knew Triple H would meet me at the gate. I mean of course he would, why wouldn't I think of that?

After finding a single stall bathroom, I locked the door and changed into my simple black slim fitting dress, with my black heeled boots and some stacked silver necklaces. I quickly ran a straighter through my hair and decided it would have to do.

As I opened the door to head back to my station, the door came to a quick stop making me drop my things. Shit.. I just hit somebody with the door.

"You alright?" A thick Australian accent came from the other side of the door. I bent down to pick up my stuff avoiding her eyes. Her hands beat me to it, and handed me my things, causing me to look up. 

No. This isn't happening. Not now, not like this. The one person I was nervous to meet I just hit with a god damn bathroom door.

"Yeah I'm okay. I'm so sorry I should've payed more attention-"

"Don't worry about it, accidents happen. I don't think I've seen you around before. I'm Rhea, and you are?"

My words caught in my throat for what felt like ages until I finally muttered "Ashley, I'm the new makeup artist". I realized she had put her hand out to shake mine, so I quickly shook it to not seem rude.

"Nice to meet you Ashley, I like your style. I can't wait to see what you can do behind a brush. See ya later then."

Just like that she was walking away. I can't believe that just happened. I need my emotional support water bottle and a seat. ASAP.

I got back to my station and pulled out my IPad to check the email with today's makeup schedule. "You've gotta be shitting me" I accidentally said out loud. Of course, with my luck, she is my first person today. Rhea Ripley.

I watched her a little bit while in college, and she inspired me to be myself. That same year I dropped out of college, quit my 9-5, got my nose pierced, started my tattoo sleeve and went to beauty school. I am who I am today because of her. She absolutely can NOT know that I was... am, a fan. That's so unprofessional of me.

I pulled up the look I had planned for her and her portfolio of previous looks I had prepared for inspiration. This was the makeup I anticipated the most. At least I'll get it over with.

A few minutes later, just as I finished setting up all my most purple pallets, I heard an all too familiar Australian voice coming around the corner.