You stand in the ring while trying to ignore the amount of people watching you. You got here through a series of events. Now you’re in the main event.

The first notes of that low, ominous, organ drawled to life. The area lights faded until everything was dark. Yellow light burst from the entrance set, floodlights ran over the crowd. You try to keep your composer. This was your big break, you couldn’t screw it up.

The organ became staticky, the lights flickered and glitched. Then, the music transitioned into a slow, techno march and she appeared on stage. Walking towards the ring, her eyes focused on you. The lights were flickering yellow and green as though they were glitching. Fire burst from the stage as she passed.

Raika, the ace of the newly reborn All Japan Women's wrestling promotion, and the world champion, was your opponent.

Sure, you had done a year on the indies, but you were nowhere near Raika. Professional wrestling was all that woman had ever known. Raised on Misawa, Kawada, Kobashi, Taue, Akiyama, Tenryu, Toyota, Kong, Nakano, Hokuto, Blaze, Hart, Austin, Bulldog, Benoit, Angle, Omega- (I’m going to stop myself here) and trained by some of the best in the business, she was a beast. At 5’5” she could strike with the best of them and also fly around the ring like Mysterio.

As Raika got into the ring, her eyes flicked to you, saying only one thing: “Follow”. She was going to be the Bret Hart to your Tom Magee.

The match started. The two of you worked through a technical, mat based sequence of holds and reversals. It ended with Raika dropping you with a punch and then playing to the audience. The punch just grazed the tip of your nose, just enough to wake you up, just enough to look real, but not hurting at all. You could tell everything said about Raika was true. She was a professional through and through. She'd keep you safe during the match and guide you through your first big really big match.