Wile of the Fox [for BlackAkuma]

[HotWheels]

Dinah had been told that many times - that she had good instincts. Good entertainment instincts, good business instincts, good partnership instincts. At times, she doubted it; they hadn’t seen her waltz her way into… her first work in the entertainment business. She had to shake those thoughts away whenever they invaded. Definitely not a subject to ponder on in front of a camera. She liked hearing that she had a knack for things, however, even if she would claim a lot of it was hard work. It was indeed hard work, after all, and it made her sound more down to earth to claim that as her greatest boon and contributor to her success.

“Thank you, thank you~”, she coyly retorted, posing in her seat as if she were sheepish about the compliments. The last match was the one she wanted people to see - it was the longest, and arguably, it was the one where she felt least comfortable. The hits had been harder, too. But she had been so focused and had become so used to the blows by that point that she looked like just what she had described - a gladiatrix countering everything her opponent had sent her way. It was even impressive for her to watch, and she had lived it.

…And of course, he was right about the second point. That, she could make light of too - she already wore the smirk by the time he finished. “They don’t only say I bought my way to the top.” She flicked up the top of her skirt just enough to show up more of her legs before letting it flop back down. She peered into the camera. “But I’ve heard that about my whole career. It’s a weird way for them to admit they’ve decided I’m such a babe I can get straight to the top of the business on my looks, but if they want to dox themselves, go right ahead.” She winked.

Her attention wheeled back to Keith. “I’m also happy to fight them if they want some proof. Was it the guy from Exclaim who said that? He’s been eating my- he’s been hounding me for years." Intentional slip up for a slap to his stupid mug. "I’m still in fighting shape. I stuck with the training. It’s great cardio.”

[BlackAkuma]

The smirk was a good sign. Touching on the haters was always a delicate topic. Being a public figure meant that you made enemies by the thousands by default, and the internet had a way of amplifying them. Even his show had a bunch of Anti-Fox Reddit forums, populated by people who loved to point out his shortcomings, some real and some imagined. That sort of thing bothered him when he started up, but it was only white noise these days.

Not everyone had thick skin, though, so seeing Dinah had developed a similar skill was cool. Water off a duck’s back.

His gaze went down on instinct when she flashed some thigh, pure male instinct at work, but he was quick to reset and bring his focus back to her face as she looked towards the camera. When her gaze fell back on him, he was fully focused and nodding. ”The guy from Exclaim? He’s the guy who did the thing, right? The thing with the other thing and then that thing?” He feigned knowledge for a couple more seconds before he threw it away with a wave of the hand. Yeah, got no idea who that is, but I’ll bet on you if it comes to that.”

That last bit intrigued him, the most, though, and he scooted a little closer to her and leaned. ”It’s cool that you’re sticking with it, though. How soon until you step back into the ring, you think?”

[HawtWheels]

She caught the glance. Of course she did. Dinah had trained herself to notice where the eyes in the room went - it was a survival mechanism from her dancing days that had evolved into a calculated metric for her success. Even when he reset his focus, the damage, or rather, the victory, was done. It validated exactly what she had just said: she could get to the top on her looks if she wanted to, but she had the teeth to back it up.

"Smart bet," she purred, leaning back into the tight cushion of her chair. She let a small, dismissive laugh bubble up regarding the Exclaim critic. "And honestly? Don't waste the brain space looking him up. He’d just be a footnote in a future autobiography."

She liked that he leaned in. It shifted the dynamic from a standard Q&A to something more conspiratorial, more intimate. It fed that part of her that craved deep understanding, even if she was currently treating this as a performance. Honestly, outside of this interview setting? She could see the two of them getting on well, though the "bigness" of other parts of their lives would get in the way of hanging out and having a beer like two normal people. She kind of hated it.

Despite her wandering mind, she had her answer locked and loaded. "Yesterday," she answered, the word firing out of her mouth before she could temper it with media training. "Okay, realistically? As soon as I have a chance on the right type of stage."

She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, mirroring his posture, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him intensely. "I'm not looking to just 'step back in' and spar. I’m looking for a spectacle. I’ve got the stamina, I’ve got the kicks, and I’ve got..." She gestured vaguely to her entire presentation, a confident smirk playing on her lips. "I need an opponent and a company who'll know that the next time I fight, it'll be a main event."

She tapped a manicured fingernail against her cheek, her eyes flashing with a mix of genuine excitement and calculated branding. "So yeah, whenever my phone buzzes in my pocket. Or my agent's pocket, I guess."

[BlackAkuma]

”None wasted, trust me.”

Yeah, that was a good attitude to have. If there was one thing Keith truly hated about the current media climate, it was the way bad press got such a focus. Everyone had to get a scoop. Everyone had to ruffle feathers. Granted, he wasn’t averse to getting a little hot on his show, but he tried his best to come at things with an even hand and give his guests the chance to defend themselves, tell their side. Social media didn’t reward that as much these days, if it ever did - people just wanted the controversy.

Or maybe that was just his old man talking. He’d never been crazy about the media in general.

An idle thought, one pushed to the wayside as his business senses started tickling. He had a good eye for opportunity when he heard one, and everything Dinah put down had all the hallmarks. Her first big fight had to be something big, something eyecatching. She couldn't waste this with some new name or an old one who wouldn’t lean into the bit. They needed someone with a similar social media presence, someone just as fresh, someone like…

”Well…” He stroked his proto-beard, ruffling up the stubble. ”Just throwing this out there, but maybe I could help with that. How do you feel about LAW? Or just pro wrestling, in general. Be honest.”

[HawtWheels]

Honest. He wanted honest.

Dinah paused, letting the question hang in the air for a second longer than necessary. In truth? She had been hoping me might ask her this precise question given his background, even if she hadn't counted on it. The kickboxing tournament had been a rush - winning it even more so - but there were rules in kickboxing. There were limits. A girl couldn't wear glitter. Well, she could, but it wouldn't have quite the right aesthetic and, boy, would it stick in all the wrong places. A girl couldn't grab a microphone halfway through and insult her opponent’s fashion sense, which frankly sounded like one of the best parts of wrestling.

After all, Dinah lived for that kind of drama - the kind that floated above the real drama, drawing attention away from it.

She knew LAW, of course. Even if she didn't, she would have looked it up since she knew Keith had fought there a few times, and she did her homework. It was the kind of place that chewed up some "pop princesses" and spit them out, which made it the perfect hunting ground for someone looking to prove she had sharper teeth than the rest of the pack. Plus, if she was being really real with herself, pro wrestling was basically just live-action anime with better costumes and concussions. It combined the choreography of her dance background with her relative talent for violence.

She dropped the contemplative chin-rest pose and sat up straight, crossing her legs the other way with a fluid, dancer-like grace. “Honest? I think a place like that is exactly what I'm looking for if I ever do the fighting thing longer-term,” she told him, trying not to sound like she had this answer in the chamber already. “Kickboxing is great. It's raw, and you really learn where you belong. But I'm used to a stage, and wrestling's a stage. It’s storytelling with fists. And baby, nobody puts on a show like I do.”

She gestured with both hands as if framing a marquee in the air, her own face at the center. No, she still didn't know beyond a doubt that she wanted to commit to anything. No, she hadn't cleared it with any of her "people." But she would still plant the seed. "I think it would be a fit, don't you?"

[BlackAkuma]

Here they were, the moment of truth. It wasn’t a question of if Keith would bring up wrestling and LAW, but when. The connections were simply too obvious. They were both celebrities dipping their toes into the world of combat sports without getting annihilated. Dinah was having a touch more success than he was, but they had both proven they could hang and had a real shot at success.

On top of that, Dinah had all the glitz and glamour that would go oh-so well in a wrestling ring. She was better suited for it than he was. So the question had to be popped. The only thing hanging in the air was how she would react, and he was gambling on that. Opinions on LAW were all over the place - some saw it as legit competition, one of the most varied and diverse combat leagues on the planet. Others just saw it as glorified porn.

So Dinah thought. Or she did a good job of thinking to play up the moment. To her credit, he couldn't be sure, though his bet was on the latter.

But the answer came, and it was more or less what he was hoping to hear. Not only was she down for it, she was super down for it, basically spelling out his sales pitch before he even had the chance to blurt it out. It would make the next part so much easier.

”Like a glove.” He idly tugged at his own without thinking, then sat back and folded his arms. He took a moment to contemplate himself, rolling the idea around, letting the tension build, before he spoke again.

”How about this?” Keith leaned forward again and planted a hand on the couch, letting it rest between them.”You talk to your people, I talk to mine, and if you want to make the jump sometime, you make it…against me. One on one, big debut.”

[HawtWheels]

Dinah blinked.

She hadn’t totally predicted that he would offer himself as the elephant for the circus she had just proposed. She had expected him to slide a business card across the table, maybe drop a name or two of an administrator she should email. But him stepping up personally? Offering himself up as the opponent? That was... better, yes, but she might not have done it in his shoes.

Her mind immediately started running the logistics, but not the kind involving training camps or gear. She was thinking about her phone. She was thinking about the barrage of emails and texts she would get from her agent, her manager, maybe even her dogsitter, the second this episode aired. They hated when she went off-script. They liked to vet every opportunity, sanitize every risk, and make sure it fit the "brand." If she brought this to them in a meeting, they’d spend three weeks deliberating before politely declining because intergender wrestling was "too niche" or "too risky" for a pop singer.

But if she said yes right now? On air?

A little thrill shot through her. It was the same feeling she got when she accepted a particularly stupid dare from her Patreon supporters. If she agreed here, in front of the cameras and microphones, the train left the station. Her team couldn’t walk it back without making her look like a coward or a liar. It would force their hand. It had been a long time since she had actually grabbed the wheel like that. She usually played the good client, the hardworking talent, but this was a chance to just... do it.

She let a slow, amused smile spread across her face. “Against you?” she repeated, leaning back comfortably instead of pressing in. “You know, for a second there, I thought you were just going to give me a phone number or tell me to look up a promoter. But this? This tells me you’re actually a bit of a masochist.”

She didn't need to posture; she just needed to lock it in before common sense - or her imaginary agent on her shoulder - could stop her. “I mean, I’m game if you are. My 'Risk It' club on Patreon dares me to do crazy stuff all the time, but kicking around a podcast host? That’s definitely new territory.” In her head, she was already picking out the outfit.

And she was already selling it, too. People liked chemistry, and they liked high stakes. She leaned in just a fraction, lowering her voice to that dusky register she usually saved for the bridge of a ballad. “But are you suuure you can keep your focus on fighting in the ring? I mean, I can't blame you if you don't.”

[BlackAkuma]

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

It wouldn’t pick up on the microphone, but if Dinah listened close enough, she could hear the subtle sound of Keith’s phone vibrating in his pocket, as text after text was sent his way. He couldn't say who was hitting him up with 100% certainty, but he had a fairly good idea - his agent, Aika. She always watched the show, and even though she didn’t make that a regular thing, he was willing to bet she certainly did today, on the off-chance that this exact sort of thing happened. No doubt, this was sending her into a conniption fit.

Keith couldn't blame her. If there was one thing the PS5 incident taught him, it was the importance of thinking through things in their industry. Something that could seem so minor in the moment could blow all over your face. Mistakes had a way of snowballing. She wanted him to run this sort of thing by her first, so she could do her due diligence. Background checks, interviews, shaking all the right hands.

He got it. But there was something to be said for knowing a good opportunity when you saw it, and this? This was the golden goose.

Dinah agreed. Oh, she didn’t outright say it, but he could see that glint in her eye, not unlike the one he had. He knew the answer before she said a thing. They would play it up, of course, milk the moment for all it was worth, but the pen might as well have already been put to paper. They were doing this.

Keith couldn't hold back a chuckle at the masochist accusation, but he rolled with it, ruffling up his hair with an embarrassed glance at the camera. ”I mean, I wouldn’t use that word, but, uh…yeah. I’ll put it this way: Guys don’t join LAW if they’ve got a problem with getting smacked around by beautiful women. That’s all I’ll say.”

Keith was already working out all the particulars - what he’d say on his social media, what Instagram posts he would drop, how he’d deal with inevitable haters who wanted to say he just liked to hit women. Through all that, though, the competitor in him was eager to see what Dinah could do in the ring, to get a firsthand experience. When she leaned forward with the dangerous glint, he did the same, but just a bit further, with a growing grin across his face.

”I think I’ll manage. Somehow.” His voice was deep, conspiratorial, with just a touch of allure. This wouldn’t be that kind of match, but they could stoke the fires. ”Can you?”

[HawtWheels]

Dinah's heart was doing that fluttery little drumroll it always did right before she hit the stage or accepted a dare that was definitely going to go brilliantly or leave her PR walking a tightrope. Keith’s voice, as it dipped low, slid under her skin and sparkled there, fueling her excitement. The studio lights suddenly felt hotter on her cheeks, or maybe that was just the rush of knowing every second of this was being immortalized for clips, thirst edits, and angry agent emails.

She pushed out the negatives and gripped the positives with both fists - she couldn't single out those positives at the moment, but the way the idea of a wrestling match made her feel served as assurance enough that she was making the right decision. A sun-bright smile slowly bloomed across her face, and she pushed her sunglasses up to ensure he and the cameras could pick up the challenge and confidence in her reddish brown eyes.

“‘Somehow,’ huh?” she repeated, letting the word roll off her tongue. “That’s not going to encourage your fans, Keith. You know my warm-up playlist is literally called ‘Leave Marks,’ right? It’s very on-brand.”

She leaned in, elbows sliding onto her thighs, leather jacket creaking, close enough now that she could smell whatever stupidly good cologne or body wash he had used. Her mind flashed to the outfit she’d wear: black and red, obviously, something that showed off the muscles she had earned. If he tapped, she decided, she would ask for it on bare skin so it would circulate virally.

Cutting off the daydream, Dinah let out a soft, breathy laugh and straightened just enough to offer her hand, pinky extended and waggling as if asking for a promise.

“A match,” she said, voice dropping into that honeyed register that made her last single go triple platinum. “No managers, no scripts, no ‘sorry, my team said no’ texts tomorrow morning.” The words she used to assure herself none of those obstacles would get in the way, but she kept them playful, wiggling her eyebrows. “You hook this pinky on camera, and we’re locked in. The internet gets its chaos, my Patreon eats for a year, and you get the privilege of finding out exactly how mean these legs can be.”

[BlackAkuma]

Should he wear the standard attire for this? This was only his second match in the company, so he wasn’t sure if it was time for him to start mixing things up, but there was something to be said for wearing something special for a special occasion. He would at least need to throw some branding into things, that would probably be an acceptable offering to his corporate overlords. Jimmy John's would probably want some space on his jacket, and then there was his own energy drink, so he should take an opportunity to hawk that a bit…

So much to do, so many angles. It was taking a considerable effort for him not to grin like a doofus while he pondered it all.

Thankfully, Dinah - or ‘Roulette’, should get used to calling her that - had enough cool for the both of them, as she leaned in and laid it on thick. ”I don’t mind marks, no problems. Just watch the face.” He gave his cheek a poke. ”Mess it up and you’re wrestling my agent, next.”

He was joking, but not by much. After all, Aika could still wrestle if she wanted to, and she would lose her mind if he took on a black eye. That said, he didn’t expect any real soft treatment, and he wouldn’t be giving it out, either.

It took him a moment to register what the extended pinky meant, but he caught on soon enough with a chuckle. ”Oh, snap, pinky wear. Old school, I like it.” He took a second to wipe his hand clean, then reached out and locked it with her. An aggressive, strong pinky swear, too, looking for a hint of the power she was going to bring—a small taste.

”Game on.”