Ah, that pit in Randee's stomach that grew while the ring announcer introduced her wasn't so big, she assured herself. She massaged it away.
"Okay, fun talk." she said to the person beside her, a guy maybe a little younger than she. He had sheepishly mentioned he knew of her and was a fan, and she had taken that as an opportunity to regale him with chatter about herself and her journey here to keep her mind off of her bubbling anxiety. He had awkwardly answered her with a lot of "uh huh"s, worked hard to avert his eyes from her in her new pink attire, and stayed red as a beet.
He almost looked relieved when Randee took a short but deep breath, whirled around to him, and told him to "Wish me luck!" He mumbled an incoherent answer.
Randee had wrangled someone else backstage too, and she motioned to him. She had only been in town for a few days before this, her debut match, and she had not had the time to hire anyone to take pictures for her new wrestling instagram account. So she had maybe shamelessly flirted her way into having a nice bearded gentleman to snap a few "exclusive" pictures for her? Of entrance and the end of the match, at least. Showing nerves of his own, he inched forward with camera in hand to follow her onto the stage.
She stopped, and he nearly ran into her, when she caught a glimpse of the crowd. "Oh fuck." Randee muttered. Thoughts of business left her mind, replaced by the impact of the moment, her moment. She shut out the creeping worry of being an imposter in this world of wrestling, knowing she was too strong and had come too far for that, balled up her fists, and stepped forward.
Spoiler
Spoiler

Randee answered with an overly excited smile that welled up from within and flexed like the purest of online fitness models. They responded with more praise.
And with that praise, she lost herself in her moment and in flirting all the way to the ring, even forgetting to stop to pose for her cameraman.