Tiredness

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Roman's POV

The hallway smelled faintly of sweat and cold concrete—another day backstage. I was heading toward my locker room when I spotted my cousins, Jimmy and Jey, leaning against a stack of production crates.

"Yo, wassup, Ro?" Jey called out with a grin. "Ready for your match with the Big Show?"

I shook my head, rubbing my eyes. "Not really, Jey. I'm running on fumes. Drove here all damn night, and I haven't slept a minute."

Jey's smile faded. "Man... that's rough. Go crash for a bit. I'll wake you up before your match. It's late in the show anyway—you've got time."

I managed a tired smirk. "Thanks, Jey. I owe you one."

I kept walking, but as I turned the corner toward my locker room, a massive force slammed into me from the side. My shoulder hit the wall, and I stumbled down.

"OW! God damn it!"

A deep voice rumbled above me. "Oh—sorry, Roman. You okay?"

I looked up into the shadow of a giant—Big Show himself.

"I'm fine, Show. Just out of it. Haven't slept in... I don't even know how long."

He chuckled, that slow, heavy sound of a man who'd been in the game forever. "Well, you've got time before our match. Get some rest, big dog. You'll need it."

"Yeah... see you later."

By the time I reached my locker room, the exhaustion was hitting hard. "Damn... what a day, and it's only ten a.m.," I muttered. "Can't get any worse."

I tossed my bag on the bench and headed straight for the bed in the back. Shower could wait. Within minutes, the world faded, and I was gone.

"Ro... Ro... ROMAN!!!"

I shot up, heart racing. "AHHH! JEY! You don't need to scream, dammit!"

He smirked, unbothered. "Time to move, big dog. Forty-five minutes 'til your match."

I groaned, rolling off the bed. "Alright... thanks, Jey."

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