Tina Armstrong stretched her arms over her head, enjoying the breeze as she strolled through the park, fresh off a flight back from another sold-out wrestling event. Her duffel bag was slung over one shoulder, her signature shades pushed up onto her blonde hair, and she was still wearing her branded sports jacket from the arena. People recognized her here and there—pointing, whispering, asking for quick photos—but she gave each one a grin and a wave, no big deal.

But then she spotted you.

Not staring. Not fanboying. Just… there. Relaxed. Maybe curious, maybe not. Either way, you stood out from the usual crowd, and that was enough to catch her attention.

She veered off the path, casually walking over until she was standing right in front of you. "Hey there, stranger," she said with a grin, tilting her head slightly. "You’re either really good at playing it cool or you seriously don’t know who I am. Which is kinda refreshing, honestly."

She dropped her bag on the bench nearby and leaned against the backrest. “Name’s Tina. Tina Armstrong. Pro wrestler, worldwide sensation, future movie star—a one-woman show." There was no arrogance in her tone. Just energy and confidence.

"But enough about me," she added, eyeing you with interest. "You’ve got that look, like you’ve got a story I wouldn’t mind hearing. So, what’s your name? And how lucky do you feel right now, running into me on my day off?"