#wolfieaustart

if there’s one thing that devin certainly loved doing, it’s definitely sharing her knowledge to people who aspire to be a wrestler and make a name for themselves. that’s why besides having the bojangles (some word she spat out while she was drunk off her ass doing a promo while she’s still in the indies) as a fitness gym, she’s expanded the place and had it also as a wrestling gym. it was like a way of giving back and letting their industry continue to flourish. it was one the thing that helped her stay connected to her profession even though she was on her time off during the injury she sustained during her last match years ago.

“if you continue on hooking your arm carelessly like that, you’re gonna end someone’s career and i promise ya, yer not gonna like it, lad.” devin says as she walks around the ring. it was morning, and she was holding a wrestling class for a teenagers (and some adults) who hope to be making a name of themselves someday. “again.” she crosses her arms, standing in the corner as she watch her pair of students executing the same move again, but now doing it successfully. “now that’s great, good job.”

well. fuck. traci’s got an hour left. it’s her turn to open potts coffee shop today. she had a long night at pudding and pie, got home almost four in the morning. as much as it pained her to leave the bed without abigail waking up to her. she had to be there or she’s going to be fucked. the barista got ready in less that thirty minutes, made sure that she’s already had coffee brewed for the younger girl and her breakfast when she wakes up, before almost sprinting to her place of work, which luckily isn’t far from where they live.

she got there fifteen minutes earlier before she was supposed to open, still a lot of time for her to set up. she quickly heads to the back and puts her apron first before setting up the tables and chairs. of course, she had music on. it helps her do her work smoothly, keep track of things more. she was just behind the counter, tying her hair up in a messy bun, her back facing the doors when she hears the bell ring, telling her that someone just came in.

It was an easy order to follow. Most of the town shut down by 9pm. The night owl establishments tended to have residential only hours after 10pm. When Remi worked the closing shift at the Library she was usually out by 9.50, a twenty minute walk to the train station and just a little bit of time to leave her mark on the town before she headed back to the city. Tonight she’d gotten out early. Tonight she was finally going to have time to work on a gorgeous stretch of wall at the bottom of the steps that led to the train platform. 

Was tonight a green or a purple night? Remi hesitated, two spray cans pulled from her bag, her sunglasses perched upon the bridge of her nose even though the sun had gone down hours ago. 

There was a sudden, startling presence behind her and she whipped around, as if the spray cans were full of mace and not paint. She supposed in a pinch paint to the eyes might be just as effective.

“Look, I’m not a good mugging victim. I’m just not. This guy in the city tried once and literally just gave me my wallet back because there was nothing in it but the crumb of a wayward frosted flake from my breakfast and a coupon for ski ball. The most valuable thing I have on me tonight is my $40 dollar gift card for Starbucks and like...just don’t be that asshole that fucks with another person’s caffeine fix for the week. Like, please.”