WWF, 1996. You’re a behind-the-scenes production assistant—sharp, stunning, and loyal. You’ve known Shawn Michaels for a while now. There’s chemistry. Real chemistry. But he’s unpredictable—charming one minute, distant the next.

And then… there’s Sunny.

The story begins with a slow build.

You’ve been spending more time with Shawn lately—grabbing post-show drinks, laughing between segments, him walking you to your car after Raw tapings. There’s a softness in his eyes when he looks at you, something he hides from the cameras.

But just when you start to think maybe it’s real, that interview happens.

You’re standing just off-camera as Sunny interviews Shawn Michaels backstage.

You try to stay professional, but your gut twists. She leans too close. He smirks too wide. She purrs his name like it’s an invitation. Her hand rests on his chest far too long—and then, in a blink, he slips his hand behind her back, groping her off-camera.

You see it. She gasps ever so slightly. You want to look away, but you can’t.

The segment ends. They laugh. She adjusts her skirt and struts off.