March 2008
It had been a long and harrowing three months. They were, without a doubt, three months of her life that she would never get back. And now, she was back at work, at a job that she no longer felt passion for, given the circumstances of those last three months.
Torrie was suspicious of everyone around her as she entered the arena. She was quiet as a mouse except for the sound of her wheeled suitcase as she pulled it, and that of her heels as they clacked against the floor.
She knew they were all watching her, talking about her. It stung, for a lot of these people had been her friends.
She had been told that the company had released a rumor of her having been out because of a bad back. They'd wanted to throw the internet wrestling community off the scent so as to avoid the scandal. Too bad they hadn't done the same within the company. She knew everyone - wrestlers, backstage workers, management, creative, everyone - knew where she'd been since the middle of December.
Torrie bitterly recalled how she'd spent Christmas and New Year's. It had been pure hell, as though she had walked straight into a nightmare. And how had she been put into such a situation in the first place? It had been completely out of her control. She'd done absolutely nothing wrong as far as she could tell. She'd defended herself, spared herself the horrifying humilation, pain and violation of getting raped, and possibly worse. She didn't deserve to have been there for three months, she knew she didn't.
"Hey."
Torrie was startled by the voice, and she looked up to realize she was standing just outside the women's locker room. Lisa Marie Varon, her best friend, was smiling at her. She could easily tell, however, that it was an awkward, somehow forced gesture.
"Hey, Lisa. It's so good to see you," she replied, forcing a smile of her own.
The dark-haired woman eyed her with concern. The smile was suddenly gone.
"How... How are you?" she asked.
Torrie swallowed hard at the tentativeness in her friend's voice. She knew Lisa Marie better than probably anyone else in the world, and it hurt to know that she was uncomfortable. She steeled herself, squaring her shoulders as she looked the other woman directly in the eye.
"I'm fine."
Lisa Marie seemed to stare at her, almost right through her, in silence. After a beat, she smiled, and it definitely, unmistakably, seemed forced. She cleared her throat and spoke again.
"Okay, well, that's good. Look, if you need anything - anything at all - you know where to find me." She gave the tall blonde woman a soft pat on the shoulder before heading away down the hall.
Torrie closed her eyes as she listened to her friend walking away. She had to pace herself and get hold of her emotions. This just... sucked. She knew everyone was going to treat her exactly as her own best friend just did - like she was some sort of freak, outcast or crazy person. Oh, sure, Lisa had been nice enough and all, but she could see right through the veneer. Inside, she was really feeling sorry for her and uncomfortable, as though she had to walk on eggshells with her now. Torrie decided she'd better get used to it.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling it all out slowly, the blonde turned the handle on the door and stepped into the locker room, pulling her suitcase in behind her. Without even turning to face forward, she could instantly feel the shift in mood within the room. Women stopped their conversations, and everything went silent for a moment.
It made her feel beyond uneasy, as though she were under a microscope. She turned her head forward again, her lips slightly parted as she kept her head held up high. And then, one-by-one, the other divas started speaking to her, some even approaching.
"Hi, Torrie," Lilian Garcia said with a smile. She raised a hand to wave as she paused at her locker.
"Hey, how are you?" Candice Michelle asked, also with a smile. At least the brunette sounded a little more genuine, at least to her ears. But who could tell?
"Torrie... Nice to see you back." That one came from Michelle McCool, and she knew it was just as fake as the woman herself. Michelle had never liked her, and she knew it.
The reason the RAW divas were around was due to the Supershow that night. Torrie wished she were back on that roster, even though Lisa Marie, like herself, had been moved to SmackDown that past July.
"Hi, ladies," she said, acknowledging the entire slew of women. Many of them were friends of hers, or at least used to be. She wondered what the true percentage now was. No one seemed to want to approach her aside from Candice and Lilian. Lena Yada, the newest ECW diva, came halfway toward her to say hello, but beyond that, that was it.
Torrie sat down and went through her suitcase, changing into a pretty, flowing baby blue dress. She didn't have a match but did have a scheduled small backstage segment with a couple of the other women later in the evening. She wished she didn't have to do it. At the very moment, she was feeling so self-conscious, wishing she were home in bed or that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
Without a word to anyone, she soon after rose and left the room. She thought once again that she might as well get used to this sort of treatment. At least then she would know to expect it... But of course, that wouldn't make it feel any better.
The blonde strode down the hall a short ways to makeup. Janet, the stylist, seemed somewhat startled as she came over to sit down in her chair. Torrie said hello, and the woman gave her a nervous smile and said it back.
She didn't utter a single other word besides "thanks." Once her hair and makeup were done, the platinum blonde stood up and walked away. She had no intention of returning to the women's locker room. It seemed it didn't matter where she went, because everyone was going to look at her funny. She just wanted to be alone.
Torrie turned the corridor in the farthest reaches of the hallway, sighing with relief as she noticed an equipment case with nothing on it. Swallowing hard and holding back the tears that threatened to break free, she made a beeline for it.
She was sitting there for about five minutes before the tears won their battle against her. Sniffling, she tried her best to keep them to a minium so as to prevent her makeup from getting too messed up.
She failed to notice the presence lingering nearby, the person watching her.