The first thing she saw when she woke up was the dozens of unread notifications lighting up her phone screen. It was not a good sign. She groaned, blinking against the early morning light as she swiped through the alerts.And then she saw it—the test PR disaster.

  LA King is no showed a scheduled podcast interview.She sat up so fast that the bnket slipped off the bed. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

  The hosts of the wrestling podcast were already calling him out on social media, tweeting that they’d set everything up in advance only for him to ghost them. Fans were already taking sides—some ughing it off, others dragging him for being unprofessional.WCWE’s PR team was scrambling. A half-baked response was already making its way online, trying to patch the hole before it got worse.

  And now, it was her problem to fix.

  Again.

  As she yanked on her jeans and shoved her ptop into her bag, her thoughts raced. If corporate saw this before she did before she had a chance to fix it. This could easily be her st screw-up. The weight of it pressed against her chest as she marched out the door and toward the WCWE HQ.

  She found him exactly where she expected—in the locker room, leaning back on a bench, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  "Good morning, PR Girl," he greeted zily, barely gncing up. "What’s today’s crisis?"She tossed her phone down on the bench beside him, the screen still glowing with the podcast’s tweet calling him out. "The one you caused."He arched a brow before looking at the screen. Instead of reacting, he simply smirked. "Oh. That."

  She crossed her arms, fighting the urge to hit him over the head with her own phone. Not caring if it broke over his dumb head. "You were scheduled for an interview, King. A live interview. Do you have any idea how bad this looks?"He stretched, completely unbothered. "I don’t do boring interviews."

  "Oh, I’m sorry, did you think showing up was optional?" she snapped. "Because I promise you, it’s not."His smirk didn’t waver—but something flickered in his eyes. A gnce down, just long enough to register the tension behind her words."Fans don’t care about PR," he muttered. "They care about what happens in the ring."

  She stared at him, incredulous. "Do you want to be a champion? Because champions show up."That made him pause, if only for just a second. Then he looked away and shrugged. "I show up where it matters. This? This is just corporate noise." Before she could unch into him again, a voice cut through the tension.

  "Both of you. Office. Now."

  She turned, stomach tightening, as her boss stood in the doorway with a look that could cut gss.The atmosphere in the meeting room was thick with tension, like a storm cloud ready to burst. Yet, it wasn't explosive. Her boss didn't need to raise his voice; his disappointment hung in the air, a weight heavier than anger could ever be.

  "I don't need you to be a brand ambassador," he addressed LA King, his voice tightly controlled, each word precise and cutting. "But I do need you to stop making it harder for everyone else to do their jobs."

  King remained silent, leaning back in his chair with a jaw set like granite, a stubborn fortress against the critique.Turning his sharp gaze toward her, her boss continued, "We brought you in because you're sharp because you can handle the big personalities. But if this keeps going south, I can’t shield you from the fallout." His words weren't a threat but a clear, unvarnished warning, the kind offered only once.

  She gave a single, firm nod. "Understood," she replied, her voice steady in the charged silence.There was a pause, a moment of silence where the weight of unspoken words hung heavily. Then King spoke, his voice carrying a hint of reluctant concession. "Fine. I’ll try harder."

  Her boss's expression remained skeptical, yet he gave a nod, acknowledging the effort. "Fix it. Together. Or we’ll have to start making bigger changes." His words lingered a final echo of the meeting's gravity, underscoring the necessity for change.She spent the next hour camped out in the production lounge, reworking her entire approach. Traditional PR wasn’t going to cut it. Not with someone like LA King. Not with someone who thrived on pushing limits and breaking rules. She needed a different pybook.

  Later, she caught up with him by the loading dock."I’ve been thinking," she said, sliding her phone into her pocket. "Instead of fighting your brand... I’m going to lean into it."He gave her a sideways gnce. "Lean into it?""Controlled chaos," she said. "No more scripted fluff. No more trying to make you into something you’re not. Do you want to stir things up? Fine. But we’ll do it with purpose."

  He narrowed his eyes. "So you’re saying I get to be an asshole. Just... strategically?""Exactly. You stay on brand, but you don’t burn the pce down in the process."There was a long beat. Then, for the first time all day, his smirk felt... real. Less smug, more intrigued.

  "Alright, PR Girl. Let’s see if you can keep up."

  Of course, agreement didn’t mean cooperation. The next few days were a stress test she didn’t sign up for. He showed up te to photoshoots. Ignored call times. Ghosted two interviews. Made snide comments that nearly triggered three new controversies. She finally cornered him in the hallway after he skipped a charity event with a sponsor.

  "Why do you even care so much?" He challenged, tone zy but eyes sharp.She exhaled hard. "Because this job means everything to me. I grew up watching WCWE with my family. I worked my ass off to get here. And I’m not about to watch it fall apart because you can’t be bothered to care about anything outside the ring."For once, he didn’t have a comeback.

  He just looked at her.

  "Huh," he said quietly. "So... this is personal for you."

  "Damn right, it is!"Something in him shifted. She saw it. The way his shoulders pulled back. The way his jaw set—not in arrogance, but in thought.He nodded once. “Noted.”

  That night, she braced for damage control.Instead, she got something unexpected.LA King had posted a tweet.Not an apology. Not a meltdown.Something sarcastic. Funny. On-brand. Something that fans actually liked.Within minutes, it started going viral in a good way. Her phone buzzed nonstop. Notifications lit up like a scoreboard. She stared at the screen, stunned. He’d listened.

  The next morning, she stepped into the hallway outside the PR office and found him waiting—leaning against the wall like he’d pnned to be cool about it.

  "Admit it," he said. "I did well."She crossed her arms, trying to stay neutral.But the corner of her mouth twitched.She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction, but damn it... she was impressed. Just a little.

  "One tweet doesn’t make you a PR genius."

  He grinned. "Baby steps, PR Girl."

  And just like that, something shifted between them. The tension was still there, but now it ran underneath something else—something that felt like the beginning of real momentum.They weren’t just fighting each other anymore.They were starting to fight together.