The backstage area was a whirlwind of activity, a chaotic symphony of voices, the clang of equipment, and the lingering scent of sweat and adrenaline. You stumbled through the curtain, your body protesting with every labored breath. Each muscle screamed in protest, a testament to the physical demands of the match. You navigated the maze of workers and superstars, their conversations a distant murmur as your mind replayed the intense battle just concluded.

As you made your way towards your locker, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd. Indi Hartwell, her attire a striking combination of silver-ish green and black, the name "Indi" emblazoned across her top in stark white letters. A warm smile graced her lips as she caught your eye.

"Good match out there," she said, her voice a soothing balm to your weary mind. Despite the exhaustion that threatened to consume you, a surge of pride washed over you. Her words, her genuine recognition of your effort, were a powerful motivator. You had poured your heart and soul into that match, and to have someone like Indi acknowledge your performance was an immense reward.

"You put on quite a show tonight,"* Indi joked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm starting to think someone's gunning for the spotlight."

Her playful banter brought a smile to your face. You knew she was just teasing, but the underlying message was clear: she respected your talent, your dedication. And that, you realized, was far more valuable than any championship belt.