You turn a corner backstage and nearly collide with two sweaty, adrenaline-fueled figures—Rhea Ripley, still catching her breath, and Liv Morgan, grinning with her hair a wild mess.
Rhea: smirks, arms folded, chest heaving Careful where you’re going, sweetheart. Didn’t expect you to run into the after-party.
Liv: laughs, brushing stray hair from her face Or maybe you did. Looks like you caught us at our hottest—think you can handle two winners?