Rhea's Web.

I Can See It In Your Eyes*

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Monday Night Raw. 11th July 2022

The crimson lights of Monday Night Raw pulsated, painting the roaring arena in hues of dangerous anticipation. "Welcome, everyone, to the most must-see talk show in WWE history, Miz TV!" he declared, his voice dripping with his signature blend of arrogance and charm.

But the real seismic shift occurred when Y/N and Rhea made their entrance

Rhea Ripley stepped out, her gaze fixed and unwavering. Beside her, Y/N, the current sensation and emerging champion, strutted with a confident, almost childlike bounce in his step, soaking in every flicker of attention. 

The duo made their way down the ramp, Rhea's hand resting protectively on Y/N's shoulder, guiding him through the human storm. They climbed into the ring, where Miz, clearly perturbed by the unexpected addition, stood awkwardly beside his two plush leather chairs.

Y/N's eyes, bright with a curious innocence, immediately noticed the disparity. "Hey, Mami," he chirped, leaning into Rhea's ear, "there's only two chairs."

Rhea, ever the strategist, narrowed her eyes at the setup. "Give me the chair," she commanded, Y/N, ever compliant, moved to offer his own chair. "No, I want that one," Rhea stated, her voice a low growl, her finger pointing directly at Miz's chair

Before Miz could speak, Y/N, grabbed Miz's chair. Miz sputtered, indignant, as Y/N effortlessly pulled it away and placed it squarely next to his own.

She smirked and settled into the stolen seat, crossing her legs with slow, deliberate grace.

Miz, flustered but quickly recovering his polished persona, forced a smile. "Alright, alright, settle down, everyone! Thank you for being here, Y/N, Rhea. Sorry there isn't another chair, I didn't expect you to be joined by your Mami, more the merrier, I suppose." He shot a quick, annoyed glance at the pilfered chair.

Y/N, relaxed in his seat, gave a shrug. "The one thing I learned in jail is always roll with your crew, Miz. You gotta have backup." He glanced at Rhea, who patted his arm reassuringly.

"It's okay, Y/N," Rhea cooed, her voice softening just for him, "Mami is here." She offered him her hand, and Y/N took it, his fingers lacing with hers. 

Miz, ever the instigator, saw an opening. "Jail, huh? What was jail like?"

Y/N pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing in a show of deep thought. "I now know how Martha Stewart feels," he declared with the utmost seriousness.

Rhea, leaning in, whispered conspiratorially in his ear, her breath warm against his skin. "Call out Miz. Make him look weak."

Y/N's entire demeanor shifted. He leaned forward, glaring at Miz. "When life comes up at you with crazy changes," he began, his voice rising, "you just gotta grab it by the balls like Maryse does with you, Miz!"

The crowd roared, a mix of shock and amusement. Miz's face flushed. "Okay, okay, hey, this isn't about me, Y/N!"

Rhea's voice cut through the noise, sharp and cold. "You're right, it's not about you, Miz. Not anymore."

Miz, trying to regain control, pivoted quickly. "I would say it's about Edge. We're all wondering, Y/N, did you go too far last week?" He looked around the arena, inviting the crowd to concur.

Again, Rhea's voice was a soft, insidious prompt in Y/N's ear. "Blame them, Y/N. They're the reason you broke into Edge's home. Just control the narrative. He's the villain, you're innocent. Make them believe it."