The night had a vibe that was anything but ordinary for a show night.
It felt like something monumental was about to happen.
Even from blocks away, the atmosphere was electric. Vendors were competing to be heard, scalpers were calling out outrageous prices, and security was expertly guiding streams of fans through the barricaded paths. IRW banners fluttered from the light poles, and the parking lots were packed to the brim. By the time the doors swung open, thousands were already queuing up.
Backstage, Lance Dawson stood by the curtain, soaking it all in.
He didn't even need to glance at the attendance sheet.
He could feel it.
The deep, steady roar of twenty thousand fans filling every seat, every aisle, and every inch of standing room. A completely sold-out venue. No sections covered up. No empty spots.
Twenty thousand.
A brand new record.
Bigger than All In.
For a moment, Lance had to steady himself against a production crate. He had run IRW for years. He had seen moderate crowds, respectable crowds, even good crowds.
He had never seen this.
Part of it, he knew, was the chaos with NPJW. The street fights. The warehouse fire. The van stunt. The headlines. The controversy had done what controversy always did—it made people curious. Curious people bought tickets.
But that didn't make the sound any less overwhelming.
He exhaled slowly, eyes misting for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. He was too old to cry over attendance numbers. Still, his chest felt tight.
This was bigger than he had ever dreamed.
-----
In the men's locker room, Eddie Prince sat by himself on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees. The men's championship title lay beside him.
Slow, steady breaths.
The sounds from the arena seeped softly through the walls. He could feel it deep in his bones. Hogan was out there tonight. Falls Count Anywhere. A first for IRW.
Even if it wasn't about the title, it was about pride.
And pride was everything.
He shut his eyes for a moment.
—
Down the hall, the women's locker room was eerily quiet.
Vince leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to maintain his composure.
Tracey Prince was already in her gear, stretching her wrists as she leaned against a locker.
Maya Hart sat on a bench, fingers intertwined, staring at the floor. Her usual defiance was absent tonight. The noise from outside only heightened her awareness of the many eyes that would be on her.
Across from her, Evelyn Sharma looked a bit pale.
"This is crazy," Evelyn muttered, shaking her hands to loosen up. "They're going to tear us apart out there."
"They already do to me," Maya shot back dryly, though her tone lacked its usual edge.
Vince stepped forward.
"Look at me," he said in a calm voice.
Maya was the first to meet his gaze.
"You've been through this before. You've faced worse. You've dealt with boos that would rattle anyone else. Tonight is just louder."
Maya swallowed hard. "It's not the noise."
Vince got it.
It was all about the stakes.
He turned to Evelyn. "You're too hard on yourself. That's your biggest hurdle. Not Tracey. Not Maya. It's you."
Evelyn attempted a smile. "That's comforting."
"It is," Tracey chimed in, pushing off the locker. "You've got this. All three of us do. That's why we're here first."
Tracey's gaze shifted to Maya.
"Don't freeze up."
Maya rolled her eyes. "I don't freeze."
Their eyes locked in a moment of tension.
Vince cleared his throat softly. "Save it for the ring."
He stepped back toward the door. "There are twenty thousand people out there. You're not just stepping into a fight; you're stepping into history."
He took a breath.
"You've already faced worse."
He turned to Tracey. "Defend it like you mean it."
Tracey nodded firmly.
The roar from the arena suddenly surged.
Vince didn't need to ask.
"It's starting."
---
In the midst of the crowd, Luke and Tony were already deep in an argument.
"Triple threat," Tony said, rubbing his hands together with excitement. "This is pure chaos."
Justin Hammer was wedged between them, bouncing in his seat. "Do you think Maya knows something? Luke, come on, she's your sister—"
"She never tells me anything," Luke shot back.
Justin leaned in a bit closer. "You could at least try asking her."
Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. "Dude, you're obsessed."
Justin's face turned a shade of red, but he didn't argue.
A few rows back, Michael stood by the railing, arms crossed. He preferred the back—less chaos and a better view. He watched the ring with a focused intensity.
—
Noah and Irvin strolled down the ramp in matching suits, and the crowd erupted as they took their seats.
Noah adjusted his headset and glanced at the match sheet an official handed him.
Irvin leaned back, looking relaxed. "Biggest crowd yet. Can you feel it?"
"Oh, I definitely feel it," Noah replied, checking his watch.
He nodded, satisfied.
The music faded out.
The lights dimmed.
The crowd's roar grew louder.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Noah's voice boomed across the arena, "welcome to IRW!"
The crowd went wild.
Irvin grinned widely. "And what a night we have in store for you."
He added, almost nonchalantly, "Some promotions might set warehouses on fire, but we set records."
Harry Khan, sitting several sections over with the IRW Ultras, burst into laughter at the playful jab.
Noah let the crowd settle down before continuing.
"And we're kicking things off with a bang."
He paused for effect.
"A triple threat match… for the IRW Women's Championship!"
The arena shook with excitement.
Evelyn Sharma's music kicked off the show.
As she stepped through the curtain, a wave of cheers greeted her. Not deafening, but definitely strong. She looked focused, her hesitation fading now that the moment had arrived. She high-fived fans on her way down, climbing into the ring with a fierce determination.
Tony leaned in closer. "She's got the momentum."
Justin nodded enthusiastically.
Then the music shifted.
Maya Hart.
The boos erupted immediately. Loud and sharp.
But there were cheers too.
Scattered at first.
Then growing.
Tony stood up a bit, grinning. "Let's go!"
Luke shot him a look. "You're hopeless."
Maya walked in with a confident swagger, her chin slightly raised. The jeers rolled over her like waves. She smirked just a bit.
She even waved at Tony and Luke's section.
Luke looked horrified.
Then the arena lights blazed.
Tracey Prince's theme blared.
The crowd went wild.
A true champion's welcome.
Tracey strode in with confidence, title draped over her shoulder, eyes locked on the ring.
All three women stood now, separated by the referee, who stretched out his arms to keep them apart.
The tension was palpable.
No time wasted.
The bell rang.
Evelyn and Tracey locked eyes.
A silent exchange.
Maya caught on just a second too late.
"Oh no," Noah muttered.
They moved in unison.
Tracey seized Maya's arm. Evelyn slammed a forearm into her ribs. Another hit. Another.
The crowd erupted.
Maya fought back, but the odds were against her. Double Irish whip. Double clothesline.
She hit the mat hard.
And they didn't let up.
Double kicks. Double stomps.
Maya rolled, tried to stand, but Tracey lifted her while Evelyn struck from behind.
"Smart strategy," Irvin admitted.
Maya was thrown toward the ropes. Evelyn clotheslined her over the top rope.
Maya crashed to the outside floor.
The crowd erupted.
Inside the ring, Tracey and Evelyn turned slowly toward each other.
For a split second, there was respect.
Then Evelyn said something.
Tracey's expression changed.
"What did she say?" Tony leaned forward.
Tracey slapped her.
A sharp crack echoed.
The arena gasped.
"Ohhh!" Noah shouted.
Evelyn's head snapped to the side.
Then she lunged.
Hair grabbed.
Shoves.
Forearms.
The two women collapsed into a chaotic tangle, swinging wildly.
The crowd roared louder.
Luke stared. "This just got out of control."
Justin's eyes were wide. "This is insane!"
AN: Earlier, I was considering about the infamous "Bra & Panties Matches" but then I thought it would go against the standards set in the beginning of the story.