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MidReal Story
Blue Blazer Twins the huge path foward
Scenario: Genny Hart and owen harts are the blue blazer twins Genny hart she is put in love story line with the british bulldog Davey Boy Smith on WWE Smackdown. Genny Hart is D Generation X with her best friends Triple H and his girlfriend Chyna and Road Dogg and XPacand Billy Gunn and Shawn Micheals and Gino Hernandez and Chris Adams. Genny Hart is a mess around Davey Boy Smith she get nervous gets nose bleeds stutters and passes out around The British Bull Dog Davey Boy Smith. Genny Hart,s dad and Davey Boy Smith,s dad Sid Smith have been friends for years and they know there kids are meant to be together and be a couple. Stu Hart and Sid Smith tell their kids they know that there fall in love with each other and they are more than okay with it and that they are meant to be together and be a couple.
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Genny Hart
She is a WWE fan and a high school student. She is dreamy, nervous, and headstrong. Genny falls deeply in love with Davey Boy Smith after seeing him on TV. Her dad, Stu Hart, arranges a meeting with his friend's son, Sid Smith's son, Davey. Despite initial nervousness and a disastrous first date, Genny remains determined to be with Davey. She struggles with stutters, nervousness, and past heartbreaks, but her connection with Davey suggests a potential happily ever after, as her dad supports their relationship.
Chyna
She is Shawn Michaels' girlfriend and part of Genny's friend circle within the WWE world. She is confident, friendly, and approachable. Chyna interacts warmly with Genny at events like Raw broadcasts. Her presence reinforces Genny's inclusion within the broader WWE community beyond mere spectatorship.
Davey Smith
He is the son of Sid Smith and a professional wrestler. He is charming, athletic, and considerate. Davey meets Genny through her father and becomes intrigued by her. Despite initial awkwardness and her nervous habits like stuttering and nosebleeds, Davey remains interested in Genny. He appreciates her uniqueness and looks forward to getting to know her better. His parents support their relationship, and he aims to win Genny over with kindness and patience.
My name is Genny Hart and I am the twin sister of Owen Hart.
I fell in love with Davey Boy Smith the first time I saw him on TV.
I thought he was the cutest guy ever.
I had a huge crush on him, but I never thought I would meet him or fall in love with him.
My dad, Stu Hart, knew Davey's dad, Sid Smith.
They were friends for years and they knew that their children were meant to be together.
When I found out that my dad was going to arrange a meeting between me and Davey, I freaked out.
I was so nervous, I couldn't stop shaking.
I kept stuttering and I got a nosebleed.
I was in shock, but I was happy at the same time.
I couldn't wait to meet him.
The day of the Raw broadcast finally came and I was ready to meet Davey Boy Smith.
As we walked into the building, I couldn't stop shaking and I kept stuttering over my words.
My best friend, Road Dogg, was trying to calm me down, but nothing was working.
"Geney, you will be fine," he said as he tried to reassure me.
"I'm going to be sick," I said as I ran off to the bathroom.
I kept thinking about how my life was going to change after I met Davey.
I grip the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink and stare at myself in the mirror.
Water drips down my face as I take deep breaths, but my hands won't stop trembling.
The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting an unforgiving glare on my pale skin.
I dab my face with rough paper towels, trying to calm the heat that threatens to consume me.
A knock on the door makes me jump, and I turn to see Road Dogg's concerned face peeking through the crack.
"Geney, you okay in there?" he asks, his voice laced with worry.
I nod, forcing a weak smile onto my lips.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."
He nods and closes the door, leaving me alone once more.
I turn back to the mirror, studying my reflection with critical eyes.
My usually bright blue eyes are dull and lifeless, and my blonde hair hangs limp around my shoulders.
I smooth down my DX shirt and take another deep breath, willing myself to calm down.
Five minutes until showtime.
I can do this. I straighten my shoulders and reach for the door handle, but just as my fingers brush against the metal, another wave of nausea washes over me.
I rush back to the sink, gripping the porcelain tightly as I retch up what little food I had managed to keep down earlier.
The sound of my own gagging echoes through the bathroom, mingling with the hum of the fluorescent lights above.
My hands shake as I cup the icy water, splashing it against my burning cheeks.
The mirror reflects a girl with mascara running down her face, and I grab more paper towels to carefully dab at the smudged eyeliner.
Another knock on the door makes me jump, and I hear Road Dogg's voice muffled through the wood.
"Geney, Davey's segment starts in ten minutes. You ready?"
I take one last look in the mirror, smoothing down my blue DX shirt and adjusting the leather jacket that hangs off my shoulders.
I force myself to walk to the door, each step feeling like I'm wading through quicksand.
I pull open the door, and Road Dogg stands waiting, his arm extended with a reassuring smile.
"Geney, you look like you've seen a ghost," Road Dogg says, concern etched on his face.
I take a deep breath and nod, trying to steady my voice. "I just... I can't shake this feeling that meeting Davey is going to change everything."
Road Dogg chuckles softly, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Well, maybe that's exactly what needs to happen."
My legs feel like jelly as Road Dogg guides me through the bustling backstage area.
Crew members rush past, carrying equipment and shouting directions to one another.
The sound of entrance music echoes through the corridors, mingling with the hum of the crowd's anticipation.
Wrestlers stretch and chat in huddles, their faces set with determination as they prepare for their matches.
As we make our way to the gorilla position, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest.
The air seems to vibrate with tension, and every step feels like I'm walking towards a precipice.
Finally, we reach the gorilla position, and I see Davey standing there, his iconic Union Jack attire gleaming under the bright lights.
He's reviewing notes with one of the agents, his brow furrowed in concentration.
I can't help but stare at him, my breath catching in my throat.
He's even more breathtaking in person than he is on TV. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure everyone can hear it.
Road Dogg whispers something encouraging in my ear, but I barely register his words.
All I can focus on is Davey's profile, his strong jawline and piercing eyes.
Suddenly, he looks up and our eyes meet across the room.
Time seems to slow down as I lock gazes with him, my entire world narrowing down to that single moment.
But before I can process what's happening, everything starts to blur around me.
My knees buckle and I feel myself falling.
Strong arms catch me before I hit the ground, and as I look up, it's Davey's concerned face staring back at me.
"Whoa, there you go," he says softly, his strong arms supporting my weight.
"I've got you."
I try to steady myself, but my legs feel like jelly.
He guides me through a maze of corridors, expertly navigating the backstage chaos.
We finally reach a side exit, and the cool night air hits my face as we step outside.
My vision blurs, and I feel myself swaying again.
Davey quickly guides me to a concrete step in the loading dock area, helping me sit down.
He keeps one hand on my shoulder, steadying me as I take deep breaths.
"I'm so sorry," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know what came over me."
"It's okay," he reassures me, his voice calm and soothing.
"Just take your time. You're safe now."
I nod, trying to regain my composure.
But as I look up at him, my stutter kicks in hard.
"T-t-thank you," I stammer, feeling mortified.
He smiles kindly at me and settles down beside me on the step.
His thigh brushes against mine, sending electric tingles through my body. "Take your time," he says softly, his voice filled with concern.
I nod again, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment wash over me.
As I sit there, trying to regain my composure, I start to shiver in the cool night air.
Still sitting close on the loading dock step, I focus on calming my racing pulse and gathering the courage to speak.
My hands fidget with the zipper of my leather jacket as I try to form words without stuttering.
Davey remains patient beside me, his solid presence both thrilling and terrifying.
The night air helps clear my head enough to finally ask about his match tonight against Owen Hart.
I manage to get the question out, my voice coming out shakier than I intended.
When Davey turns to answer, his shoulder brushes mine, sending fresh tingles down my arm.
I watch his face come alive as he describes the planned spots with Owen, my twin brother.
His hands gesture animatedly, demonstrating the sequence of moves they've choreographed.
The harsh fluorescent lights of the loading dock catch the beads of sweat on his neck, making him glisten.
When he mentions a particularly tricky reversal, his eyes meet mine, and my breath catches in my throat.
I try to nod intelligently, but I knock my head against the wall behind us instead.
Davey pauses mid-sentence, reaching out to touch the spot where I hit my head.
My heart hammers in my chest as his fingers gently probe the back of my head, checking for any injury.
His touch sends shivers down my spine.
When I try to assure him I'm fine, my words come out as a squeaky stutter.
He shifts closer on the concrete step, his knee pressing against mine.
The shadows cast by the loading dock's fluorescent lights dance across his face, accentuating the concern etched on his features.
His hand lingers in my hair as our gazes meet.
Time seems to slow down.
The distant sounds of the arena fade into the background, leaving only the two of us suspended in this charged moment.
Davey's expression softens, and he leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
"We should get dinner after the show."
My heart skips a beat.
I lean into his touch, my lips parting slightly as I struggle to form a response.
He continues, his voice gentle but filled with excitement.
"There's this quiet Italian place just around the corner. It's one of my favorites."
My pulse races even faster at the mention of dinner.
I manage a small nod, still unable to find my voice.
Davey's hand moves from my hair to rest on my shoulder, sending warmth cascading down my arm.
His thumb brushes against the base of my neck, and I shiver involuntarily.
"Would you like that?"
His voice is low and inviting.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to speak.
"Y-yes," I stutter, hoping he doesn't notice the tremble in my voice.
He smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Great. I'll find you after the match."
We stay there on the loading dock step for a while longer, neither of us willing to break the spell.
The air is charged with tension, and I can feel his gaze on me even when I look away. Finally, he stands up, offering me a hand to help me up as well.
As we walk back toward the arena entrance, he tells me about growing up in England and his journey into professional wrestling.
I listen intently, fascinated by his stories and the passion in his voice.
When we reach the backstage area, I find myself sharing stories about Owen and me as kids, our adventures growing up together in Calgary.
Davey listens attentively, asking questions and laughing at my anecdotes.
It feels surprisingly natural to open up to him like this.
As we approach the locker room area, a stagehand calls out Davey's name over the loudspeaker, reminding him that it's almost time for his match against Owen Hart.
He squeezes my hand gently before letting go. "I have to go get ready," he says, his voice tinged with regret.
"But don't worry, I'll find you after. We'll get that dinner."
I nod again, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness wash over me as I watch him disappear behind the curtain leading to the locker rooms.
The sound of cheering fans and music fills the arena once more as I make my way back to my seat near ringside.
I barely settle into my seat when Owen appears beside me, a knowing grin on his face.
"So, dinner with Davey, huh?" he teases, nudging me playfully.
I blush furiously, trying to muster a casual response.
"Shut up, Owen," I say, but my voice betrays the excitement bubbling within me.
He chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Well, I'm glad you two hit it off. Maybe after the match, we can all grab some dinner together."
I nod, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies in my stomach.
As Owen heads toward the ring for his match, I find myself clutching the folded piece of paper he handed me earlier.
The crowd's roar fills the arena as I carefully unfold it, my hands trembling slightly.
A small British flag doodle adorns the corner of the page, and my heart skips a beat at the sight.
Davey's handwriting is messy yet endearing as I read the words scrawled on the page.
"Meet me at the loading dock after. Got something special planned."
My stomach flips as I read it twice, three times, committing every word to memory.
When I look up, Owen catches my eye from inside the ring, a playful smirk on his face.
He points at the note in my hand with an exaggerated wink.