 
### Wrestling the Russian

Copyright 2014 Desean Rambo

Published by Desean Rambo at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.  
Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead; is purely coincidental.

***

deseanrambo@boardgamemedia.com

PROLOGUE

"Brianna is in the fight of her life!"

The announcers excitedly called every move of the match as I rolled around the ring ducking for cover. Laura Grey was no joke. She put every inch and every pound of her 6'1 frame into each blow. The crowd roared as I took jab after jab to the face.

Laura's large hands clasped the sides of my head. _POW!_ She flung me to the mat with no regard. I blacked out for a moment. I thought I was having a concussion. Then my eyes burned. It was sweat beading in my eyes. I looked up. Everything was fuzzy. Slowly the picture came into focus. The Amazon of a woman was coming at me full force. The crowd yelled as my face met the side of her stiff boots. _WHACK!_ My neck snapped as I rolled over from the force of the kick.

I began getting dizzier and dizzier. My knees bobbled. My back ached. I was in so much pain I couldn't even lift my arms over my head. There was no way I could defend myself.

I had no idea what had I gotten myself into.

This girl was going to kill me if I didn't do something.

I looked outside the ring. His coal like black eyes peered on. I had to do something. "Brianna! Get up!" he passionately screamed out from behind his thick black beard.

I couldn't let him down. Not him of all people. He meant everything to me. My heart ached, my feel wobbled, my arms burned.

I had to find a way.
CHAPTER 1

"You're crazy!" my mother said back to me with a look that said she was less than confident in my words. I had my mind made up. Today would be the first day of the rest of my life.

I looked at the proudly framed photo of my college graduation. It's tough to believe that was already two years ago. My whole life post college was a mess. Here I was the tender age of twenty five, still living at home and completely confused as to what I should do with my life.

That was, well, until today.

My mother and father were cool about me living at home. To a certain degree they probably preferred having me around. I could only imagine how boring things could have been without me. The two story brick and vinyl sided house is the place I've called home for the last nine years. Nestled away in a little suburb of Nashville, I grew up a regular suburbanite. I played with the neighborhood children, my younger sister, and every day was a routine of school, homework, and playtime.

There is one little thing that's different about this girl though. I love wrestling. As a young child my father introduced me to the WWW (Worldwide Wrestling) and I've been hooked. The roar of the crowds, the energy, the emotion, and the nonstop action made me a fan. Guys larger than life were some of my childhood heroes.

Every time WWW would come to Nashville I'd beg and beg my father to go see the wrestling matches and he'd oblige. You would think that would be a peculiar sight, a black man with two little black girls at a wrestling event, but nothing is out of the order in the world of wrestling. That's its appeal. One thing that also wasn't out of order was seeing the ladies mix it up in the ring. That's where my mind grew on the unlimited possibilities.

WWW has a division called the Ladybird division. The Ladybirds include all of the females in the company. They work either as managers and accompany male wrestlers out to the ring, play their girlfriends in storyline, or are actual wrestlers! Seeing women stand tall in the ring and do the same moves their male counterparts did always stuck with me as a child. Now, as an adult I decided it was time to make the leap. I wanted to be a wrestler.

I told my parents once again that my decision was final and not a spur of the moment thing. I'd thought deeply on this.

"Brianna don't you think this is a little bit crazy?" my mother asked, she continued, "I know you love wrestling but that's dangerous. I don't want to see you break your neck or something trying to do what you see on TV."

My mother is a homely woman of God from North Memphis, Tennessee. To her nothing is more important than the church and her family. She would do anything to keep my sister and I out of harm's way. I love my mother but as a homemaker she knew nothing about the world of wrestling. I doubt she even knew that the matches were predetermined and that the wrestlers were specifically trained to avoid serious injury. To her it was all the same and her baby girl would not be a part of such a barbaric act.

"I think if that's what you want to do then do it. But have a backup plan just incase it doesn't work out," my dad chimed in.

My father is a bit more sensible. He's also from Memphis, the East side exactly but moved to North Memphis where he met my mother and eventually moved with to Nashville. My pops works as a CDL truck driver and works routes between Tennessee, Atlanta, Alabama and North Carolina. He grew up on wrestling but never thought of being a wrestler. He was raised to get a "good job" the same way he raised his girls.

The only issue at the moment was that the economy was in the toilet, I was $65,000 in student debt and the best job I could find was at Kinkos. Nothing against Kinkos but I needed something a bit more out of life.

"I think I can do this. Dad you know none of the Ladybirds can wrestle. I know I can do what they do," I smiled and reaffirmed my position.

"Brianna, I don't know. Those girls are tough," my father said as he joined my mother and I around the wood kitchen table. "I think you should think a bit more about this. You aren't in the shape those girls are yet. Maybe in a year or two you could go out there. Not now. You'd get killed."

I didn't want to hear it but my dad was probably right. I couldn't remember the last time I picked up a pair or weights or saw the inside of a gym. I was always naturally athletic but it's a completely different story when you are in that ring. I felt I still had a good shot. At 5'7, 140 lbs I wasn't a small girl. There definitely was something there if I decided to work on it.

"Ok you got me. This is definitely something I'll think about," I said as I stood up a headed for the door.

"See ya'll later."

***

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

My sister swung open the door to her home. She stayed in Nashville as well and was working for Vanderbilt. It's a shame when your younger sister is ahead of you in life. She always made good decisions except for that small thing about getting pregnant. She had her daughter and still managed to get her associates as well as the job at Vandy. She was doing really well for herself. A small part of me envied her success because of my situation.

"Brianna!" she screamed as she welcomed me in her home.

"What's up sister?" I said.

Nicole embraced me in her tight grasp. She's a tiny little girl compared to be but life has made her extremely tough. Way tougher than me.

"Alicia Aunt Brianna is here!" she yelled.

My little niece ran from the TV room to give me a hug. Dora the Explorer was on. We sat down with Alicia as we caught up.

"So what's good? No work today?"I asked.

"Nope. I have today off," Nikki said back with an air of relief.

"You want something to drink or something?" she asked.

"I'm good," I said.

"I just came over to use your internet. I need to research something," I confessed.

"What is it today?" Nikki said as she grabbed her Macbook Air from the opposite couch cushion and passed it to me.

"Wrestling schools," I said.

"You can't be serious," Nikki said as she chuckled, then went on, "You, a wrestler? You got your head screwed on straight sis?"

"I'm about as serious I can be. It's either this or what? I'm not working at Kinkos the rest of my life. I need to be in front of that camera making a difference in the world," I retorted as Alicia screamed at Dora on the television.

My sister stared me down. She could tell I was dead serious.

"Ok. I guess. I just don't know. I can't really see you as a Ladybird."

"Why not?" I snapped back.

"One, you don't work out. Two you're not fast. Three you can't act and four you're too small," she said with a matter-of-fact tone. She was her father's daughter. Everything had to make sense to her.

I would not be discouraged by my family. I typed _Nashville Wrestling Schools_ into Google as I debunked all of the reasons I couldn't make it.

"One I am starting a workout plan, two I can get faster, three I can learn how to act, and four I'm bigger than you."

"That's if you think so," Nikki said as she smiled. My ambition was her entertainment.

I browsed the listings; there were a few sites but they all looked like scams or their site was something from the 1990's. This was not looking good minus the few schools I found in Memphis. "I don't think there are any good schools in the area," I said, thinking out loud, "Where do Ladybirds train at?"

My sister paid me no mind as she played patty cake with her daughter.

"I don't know. I think somewhere in Florida. It's been a long time since I kept up with WWW. Look up Ladybird training schools."

I typed the query in Google as they played on.

"Here's something. Ladybird Pro Wrestling in Orlando, Florida. I think this is what you're talking about," I said as I clicked on the result.

The site looked legit. From the photos the school looked state-of-the-art complete with a full sized ring, a real studio audience, and cameras to practice. I knew instantly this is where I needed to be. The only caveat was there was no application page. This was an exclusive facility.

"That place you're talking about is run by WWW and its invite only," I hollered to Nikki who was completely in her own world with Alicia.

"Those types of industries are all about who you know. Not what you know. That's why half of the Ladybirds now can't wrestle. They are all there because of their last names or because of who they sucked in the back," my sister proclaimed.

"Well I'm going to do it. Nothing is going to stop me. I guess I just have to find somewhere to begin and go from there. But I guarantee you I will make it to Orlando and it won't come from sucking anything," I replied.

"If you say so sister girl. If you say so."

My sister is the show and prove type. She never believed anything anyone told her they were going to do. You had to show her for her to completely buy in. Hence, why academia attracted her so much.

"Check this out, I'm going to sign up at the gym and get a trainer. Then I'm going to go down to Memphis and start training," I said.

"Ok, but what about money? You can't pay student loans and do that full time," Nikki said back.

"I'll figure it out," I said.

I gave my sister her laptop back as I headed for the door. "Where are you headed?" she asked.

"Girl, I have to go to work in 30 minutes," I said. It sadly was that time of day. The grind was about to begin.

Kinkos wasn't a great job but it was a job. It gave me a lot of flexibility but that didn't mean I didn't have to deal with the crap on a daily basis. For one, my car was unreliable. My black 2002 Pontiac Sunfire had seen better days. She was on her last leg. It took a good three or four cranks before she fired up. One of these days I knew she was going to give out on me.

I always parked way in the cut so the customers couldn't see my whip. I didn't care what my coworkers thought, a lot of them didn't even have their own vehicles but customers are another thing. Customers feel they can talk to you any kind of way when they perceive they are doing better than you. At least that's how the narrative played out in my mind.

"Ay! Brianna!" Stacy said as I entered the building.

Stacy was my road dog. She was a proper white girl who'd lived her entire life in Nashville. She attended Vandy as well and previously worked as a bartender. Her pristine blond hair was always pulled back in a pony tail and she wouldn't be caught dead without a full face of makeup. Stacy was such a country girl.

"What's up?!" I said as I clocked in. She gave me the rundown.

"Today has been slow. You'll probably bore yourself to death," she warned.

"That's what you think," I joked, "I welcome a slow day."

"I hear you sister," Stacy laughed.

She was right. The day went by like molasses. Stacy left about an hour after I arrived and I was there for several hours before anyone else was scheduled to come in. I passed the time between customers as usual browsing the internet. However instead of watching the latest Rihanna videos I was researching my newest pursuit: weight training and wrestling.

"Someone is trying to get in shape for the summer!" a boisterous voice thundered at me. It was one of my regular customers, a large middle aged Southern Baptist preacher named Pastor Elle.

"Something like that. How can I help you today Pastor? " I smiled at him. He had a stack of envelopes with him to send out to his congregation.

"I need to send these out. Notices for the Fall Jamboree. You should come by. Everyone is invited. We need singers and dancers too if you're interested."

"I don't have any talent. I'd help you if I could," I said back with a large grin.

"A lot of people don't have talent. But guess what? Those of us God didn't bless with talent he blessed with desire. If you want to do something, you're going to do it. Jesus be my witness!" he exclaimed.

Whether it was an innocent plug for his show or divine intervention, my mind was totally made up. It was time to switch gears.
CHAPTER 2

"And this right here is the squat rack for your leg workouts," the young energetic trainer said as he walked me around the busy community gym. He was a short country fellow with a twang to his voice. He didn't seem like the type that was into hardcore bodybuilding. I had a feeling he was possibly the eye candy trotted out specifically for female clientele.

I knew what a squat rack was. "Thank you," I said as I looked around.

The hot lights of the gym showcased a mildly packed gym of housewives and weekend warriors pin-balling back and forth from machine to machine. I had the overarching feeling this was possibly not the gym for me.

"Is there some sort of fighting class? Like MMA or boxing? Or wrestling?" I asked.

A quizzical look flashed on the little trainer's face. "Hmmm... I don't think so. We have a female self defense class but if you're interested there are some gymnastic rooms with mats where you can practice anything you want," he said.

"I'm looking more for instruction," I said.

A look that said _yeah right lady_ now covered his face. He for sure was not taking me serious. I was dressed casual in my work khakis with a flannel t shirt and a ribbon around my hair bun. That was definitely not the look of a future World Wide Wrestling Ladybird. The trainer walked with me back to the front desk and handed me an application for membership.

"There is certainly no pressure. Whenever you are ready just bring back the application signed and you're good to go! I already applied a discount to your account so your first month would only be $4.99."

It sounded too good to be true. And it was because as I scanned the fine print I quickly saw the regular membership price of $94.99 which resumed the second month of membership. This was a little too rich for my blood. I took the information and bounced as far as I could.

"Come on... come on..." I said as I tried to start my car.

The Sunfire was not having it. She would not turn over. The ignition would not ignite. I slammed my fist on the steering wheel in defeat. Something had to change. I couldn't take anymore of this.

The gym was way too far from my house to try to walk and I didn't have any cash for a taxi. Sadly I had to do what I've always done in life and call my parents to get me out of yet another situation.

The phone rang twice before my father picked up.

"Hey dad?" I asked with my most needy voice.

"Yes Brianna?" he said. He was not fooled. He knew I needed something.

"Dad I need to ask you if you can come get me. My car won't turn over."

My father was never the type to tell you how he exactly felt; he went with the flow 90% of the time. I knew he'd say yes even if he didn't want to.

"Where are you Brianna?" my father asked.

"I'm at the community gym," I replied.

"I'm on my way. Is there a place you can go nearby?" he asked. He was always overly concerned.

"I'm fine. I can go back inside," I assured him.

About twenty minutes later my father showed up in his big white Toyota Tundra. He loved that gigantic truck. I climbed in relieved to see his familiar face. The vibe was one of confusion and mild disappointment, that same vibe I was dying to rid us of. My father broke the conversation shortly after I got in.

"It looks like you're ready for a new car, what do you think?" dad asked.

"Maybe. Whenever I can afford it." I said quietly.

"What were you doing up here? You're getting serious about this workout thing?" my father asked.

"As serious as I can with no money. That place is super expensive and they don't offer wrestling," I said softly.

"Well you have to start somewhere," my father said hesitantly.

We pulled into the driveway and I realized something was off. There was an extra car in front the house. I didn't bother to ask whose car it was. My mother was always having people from church come over for this or that.

I walked in the house to see a familiar face. It was my first cousin Tony B. We called him Tony because his first name was Antonio, and the B came because there's more than one Tony in the family.

"Brianna! What happened to you girl? You look like hell," Tony yelled out at me as soon as I met him in the living room. He did not mince his words.

Like most of our family Tony is a straight shooter. He's a tall guy maybe 6'2 and relatively big at about 220 lbs. He's the type of guy that knows he can get away with saying what's on his mind because of his physical size.

"My car broke down. I don't know what's wrong with it. I just couldn't get it to turn over," I replied to my cousin.

"I told her she needs to get a new one," My dad interjected as he walked to the kitchen with his work boots clacking each step of the way.

"Well unfortunately, I can't afford that," I said back. My cousin noticed the paperwork I had from the gym.

"What's all the paperwork for? Don't tell me you're going back to school. You already can't pay for the degree you got," he said.

"I'm not going back to school yet. This is actually a gym application," I replied.

"Good. Some people think all the answers are in them classrooms. You got to get out and live a little life, then see where you should spend ya time," he added.

"Ok Kanye West," I retorted.

"I'm the college dropout but who got more money?" Tony said as he played with the brim of his Memphis Grizzlies fitted cap. His dreadlocks poked out from underneath the sides.

Tony is the black sheep of the family in a way but also very street smart. There's a five year age gap between us. He's 30, a college dropout, former drug dealer, and now a successful promoter for a liquor brand in Memphis. He's lived life on his own terms and actually made it. I admired his hustle but hated his delivery at times. This was one of those times.

My father reappeared from the kitchen with a Pepsi. He took a seat with us in the living room.

"Nephew, did you ask Brianna why she was at the gym?" Tony glanced at me to see what was up.

"I've made the decision to train to be a pro wrestler," I said.

Tony looked at me, then at my father to see if he was being punked. He could sense I was serious.

"Are you deciding to train to be a wrestler, or have you decided you are going to be a wrestler?" he asked with his straight forward delivery. That simple statement rocked me. I never really thought about it on those terms. _Was I making the decision to just train or was I going all the way? Was I jumping in the deep end or did I just have a toe in the water?_

"I... never really thought about it like that," I said quietly.

"I'm just asking because they're not the same thing. It takes a whole different level of commitment to make it. You need a completely different mindset. Either you are all in or all out. You can't be a halfway hustler. Especially with something like that where it's a huge time commitment," Tony continued.

"You're right. Well I've made up my mind that I want to do it so I am going to pursue it. Nothing will stop me," I said, trying to find reinforcement in the cliché.

Tony corrected me once again.

"Check this. When I was in prison I told myself whatever I was going to do I was not going to go back. Whatever it took I was not coming back to prison, ya feel me? Well, when I got out it wasn't that easy. I still had fiends that wanted to be served. I could still get work for the low. How was I about to let all that easy money go?

"That's how I got caught up with that second charge. I was riding around on some dumb 'ish with a loaded gun and some grams. It wasn't until the second time I got out that I finally decided the streets weren't for me, ya dig?

"I came home, gave the whole stash box to my partner. I got rid of all my work, my pistol, and went complete cold turkey. It wasn't until then I realized I could push liquor the same way I pushed the kush and not have to worry about going to prison for it, ya dig?"

A big toothy grin overtook him. He was so proud of himself.

"I got you," I said, correcting, "But it's not that easy. That's different. You just moved from something illegal to something legal."

Tony leaned in. I was challenging his reality but he wasn't budging.

"Well Brianna, let me ask you this. If I can figure it out with no education and two strikes, what's holding you back?"

I thought about it for a few minutes. I glanced over at my father. He sipped his Pepsi as he intently awaited the answer. This was the type of conversation he loved. I thought about it for a minute longer before I held the answer.

"There's no where around here to just walk in and start," I said, adding, "All the girls train in Orlando, Florida and that's invite only. The only way to make it is to get in front of people at a smaller wrestling school."

"And what's the problem?" Tony said.

"There aren't any in Nashville. The only decent ones are in Memphis," I replied.

Tony leaned back then hopped up off the couch. He called back to me.

"I'm leaving for Memphis right now. It's nothing for you to ride with me."

"What about my car? My job?" I snapped back.

My cousin's back was turned to me as he approached the front door. He didn't want to hear it.

"I'm going to smoke a cigarette and listen to one song then I'm leaving. You got five minutes."
CHAPTER 3

The taillights on Tony's cutlass Oldsmobile lit up bright red as he pulled out of the driveway. I ran behind at full speed flailing my arms wildly.

"Stop! Tony wait!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

He stopped about six houses later. I struggled to catch my breath as I opened the heavy passenger side door. I flung my haphazardly packed travel bag in the car as I climbed in behind. Tony smiled.

"I knew you were coming," he grinned.

"How did you know this?" I asked.

"You're a Hall. We don't quit. We are Ford tough, kid."

"You're not slick you know you saw me way back there." I said as I smiled.

"I had to see how bad you wanted it," Tony nodded to confirm.

"I was running like Will Smith in that Happyness movie!" I said as I continued to catch my breath. Tony wasn't concerned.

"Sometimes you have to literally chase your dreams," he said. A loud rap song blasted from the speakers.

"What are we listening to?" I asked.

"That new Yo Gotti Cocaine Muzik," Tony answered.

"I thought you left that life alone. Why do you want to hear about it all the time?" I replied.

"You can't leave the streets. The streets is where all the real are at. From da dopeboys, to the hustlers, to the dream chasers. This is that real street energy. I feed off this. You wouldn't know nothing about that though cuz. At least not yet," he said.

Nashville to Memphis was a three hour trip. We had a little bit of time to catch up.

"So what made you decide to do this wrestling gig?" Tony said as he steered the big cutlass. His Memphis accent pronounced wrestling as wrasslin.

"It's just time. I'm just ready to do something different. I realized what you realized. Nothing really matters. We get one life, you know?" I replied. Tony smirked.

"I had to go to the penitentiary to realize it. You didn't. You got to do what you want while you still got the time."

I sat back and admired the mountains passing the passenger window.

"So true. I just want to be someone to the world. I want to make the family proud and be a role model for little girls like my niece. I can't do that shipping packages at Kinkos the rest of my life."

"Young Brianna, you have a lot to learn about life," Tony smiled.

"Like what?' I replied.

"You're a 25 year old black woman with no kids. You got a whole lot of life in front of you. I'm glad you're at least trying something new out," he replied. I took it as an insult.

"So you think I'm not going to make it?" I retorted.

"I don't know what you're going to do . That's up to you," he said.

We had to stop for gas about halfway in Jackson, Tennessee. The old school cutlass pulled us into an Exxon Parking lot. Tony reached in his jacket as the car came to a halt. He pulled a shiny silver Desert Eagle handgun out his jacket pocket and put it in my lap. As a man who's been in several life threatening incidents he took no chances.

"I'm going to pay for this gas. You watch my back. I don't like how these country boys get," he said as he disappeared into the store.

I sat in the car holding the gun as my heart raced. I wasn't expecting to be packing heat when I embarked on this journey. I tucked the weapon under my shirt and waited for Tony to get back. A car pulled up on the opposite side of the pump. A tall white guy with brown hair got out of his Ford F 150. A little boy that looked just like him sat quietly in the passenger seat. The man smiled at me as I waved back. Tony was right. There was a lot of life I had to life, particularly in the relationship area. I always envisioned having children and a family by now but things did not work out the way I thought they would have. The man pumped his gas using the credit card terminal. He called out to me.

"Nice car! You don't see too many old schools," he said.

"Thanks. I just try to keep it clean," I said back.

"Take care of it. It's a classic beauty," he said.

I wasn't sure if the beauty he referred to was me or the car. It was probably the car. I smiled again as I anxiously waited for Tony to get back and take his stupid gun back.

Three minutes later, Tony emerged from the store in a _too cool for school_ slumber. He pumped the gas with his head on a swivel, regularly looking to me as if I was his bodyguard. He was way too paranoid, but then again he grew up in the hood and dealt drugs for at least thirteen years. It was all he knew. He finished up pumping and got back in the vehicle.

I could barely hold the gun it was so heavy.

"Why do you have this big gun? Do you really need it?" I said as I handled the shiny weapon.

"I've been beat down three times by the pigs. I can't be too careful in the streets. The police are the biggest gang of them all," Tony dismissed my concern.

"And your answer is to shoot back at them?" I asked.

"Maybe you're right. But I'd rather be judged by twelve—" he started.

"If you say so Tupac. Where did you get that thing? My dad used to have a gun just like that," I said as I looked out the window at the cascading mountains.

"That's because it's his," Tony said.

"Are you supposed to have that? Are you licensed? What happens if you get caught?!" I replied.

"Of course I'm not supposed to have that. I'm a convicted felon twice over. However, that gun is old enough to be considered an antique, so technically you don't need a license to transport it in a vehicle," he proclaimed.

"Yeah if it was legal for you to have, which it isn't," I said.

"Yeah but I'm not transporting it. You are," Tony said matter-of-fact. He was right again. He always had the street savvy answer. I exhaled as I resigned to my position.

We got to Memphis around seven o'clock. It was fresh into the evening. Tony stayed in a small apartment complex. His building was a four unit brick building with two levels. Tony's apartment was one of the upstairs units. I grabbed my bag as we parked and made our way inside.

I hadn't been to Tony's place in a while. The last time I remembered the spot was real minimal. He didn't own anything that didn't have a purpose. I quickly saw that image of the apartment was completely outdated as he flicked the lights on. The place was very nice but it felt like an office now.

Boxes of promotional liquor items were neatly stacked along the living room's walls. He upgraded to a 50 inch flat screen with a new suede couch and matching black rug. Promotional liquor posters hung on the wall. Though it definitely felt like the back office of a liquor store to a degree, I was really impressed.

"You've done well for yourself. This is totally different than the last time I came over," I said.

"I've been hustling cuz. I don't have all the answers. I just know what works for me and I keep doing it until I can't no more," he said as he plopped his hat off. His dreads swung in every direction.

"Let me show you where you'll be at until you get yourself together," my cousin said as he trotted down his small hallway and opened one of the doors.

It was a bedroom neatly laid out with a twin bed, a small television and a dresser. The bed looked as if it had been made that way for months. It was oddly the only room in the apartment with no visible liquor products.

"Who's room is this?" I said as I put my bag on the bed, wrinkling the comforter for the first time in months.

"This is my son's room." Tony said quietly.

I totally forgot he had a child. His son was born just as he went to prison the first time. Tony rarely spoke about him.

"What ever happened with that?" I asked as I looked around the gloomy, empty feeling room.

"His stupid ass mother took him to Kentucky. I hate that bitch."

My eyes locked on the dresser. There was a single framed photo of the boy and his mother propped up on top of the dresser. I totally forgot what the boy looked like. He reminded me of a little kid version of Terrance Howard with his curly afro and light eyes. He had a big goofy smile in the photo along with his blonde tatted up mother. She looked exactly like the type of white girl you'd expect a drug dealer to attract.

"How old is he now? I haven't seen him since like, ever. How is his mother doing? And what's in Kentucky?" I asked. Our family never shied away from difficult topics, it was how we communicated.

"You know what she told me Brianna? She told me I didn't have rights to visitation because of my charges. I hate Jamie, I really do. She moved to Lexington for some job or something. Last I heard she was working at Whole Foods or something like that," Tony started.

"Don't her parents live in Memphis? When's the last time you've seen him? How old is he now?" I continued.

Tony took a deep breath. The topic was infuriating.

"Don't remind me. Her folks only come over here when they need something. They don't even see Little T when I got him. We worked out an agreement; I mean Jamie forced me to agree that I get him for the summer and fall school break. And I have to give her $500 a month for expenses or whatever. He's just had his fifth birthday. I got him some clothes and some Wii games. That's what he wanted."

"That seems understandable," I said. I really didn't have any words of encouragement. I had no idea how these types of relationships worked. My parents were married for 21 years and counting.

"It wouldn't be so bad if Jamie didn't have a bitch fit every time we had to talk about something," Tony replied. I shrugged. I was out of words.

"You're welcome to anything you want. Mi casa is you casa," Tony said, continuing, "I have to work on this event for Brown Hawk Bourbon. I'm trying to move 20,000 cases this quarter. I'll be in the living room."

He retired to his work for the evening which included endless phone calls, emails, and sorting through boxes of promotional items. I turned the television on in Little T's room.

I flicked through the channels until I stopped on the sports channel. Oddly enough WWW was on. It was their weekly nationally televised show. I quietly watched as I studied the action in the ring. A tall girl had the microphone in the middle of the ring. I recognized her. She was Laura Grey.

Laura was considered one of the best female wrestlers of all time. She was a former college basketball player where she won a National Championship and also a famous fitness model slash bodybuilder outside the ring. In a word, the 6'1 blonde Swedish model was the total package. She also was the Ladybird Champion.

"I will not stop until every woman in that locker room realizes that Laura Grey is not to be challenged. I am the Ladybird champion! I am undefeated! I am female wrestling!" she said each word with increasing conviction. The camera zoomed in on her ocean blue eyes. The look on her face was a mixture of determination and insanity.

"There is not a woman in that locker room or on this planet that can defeat me in this ring!" she said as she flipped the heavy Ladybird Championship belt over her wide muscle-bound shoulders. The belt was a large pink leather strap with gold emblems. The center plate featured two large wings spread larger than the average woman's waist. It almost looked like toy on Laura Grey's broad shoulder.

Some music hit. Out ran one of the fan favorites, April the Wonder. I'd seen her wrestle before. She was a tiny Asian girl but really athletic and quick. Compared to Laura she was a child. She stood up to Laura as the crowd ate up the stare down.

A referee rang the bell and they got it on. April was no match for Laura. Laura played with her like a rag doll. She slammed April the Wonder by the neck onto the canvas and dropped her size ten boots on her. There was nothing she could do.

Laura played the crowd's energy. She mocked the little girls who booed her. She yelled at grown men. Everyone was beneath her. Suddenly the crowd jumped to their feet. April caught Laura off guard with a well placed dropkick. The underdog worked her magic as the crowd cheered her on.

She quickly pinned Laura. _One... two... nope!_ Laura easily powered out. She gave April a blow to the stomach and lifted her by the waist. Boom! Laura slammed April flat on her back in her finishing move, a commanding power bomb. The referee counted to three. Laura Grey won again in convincing fashion.

I'd watched wrestling for years but this was the first time I watched this intently. I wasn't watching the show as much as I was watching the crowd. The little boys and girls in the crowd were crushed to see the villain prevail again. Laura paraded around the ring with her Championship belt with a smug look on her face. I knew at that moment what had to happen.

I had to make it to that ring.

I had to become their hero.

I had to defeat Laura Grey.
CHAPTER 4

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Someone knocked on the door of Tony's apartment. It stirred me awake. I had no idea what time it was, I just knew it was early. I rubbed my eyes as I checked my phone: 6:30 AM.

I checked the peephole of the place to see who was at the door. I couldn't believe it. I exhaled as I swung open the door. It was Tony.

"Rise and grind!" Tony said. He was dressed in navy sweatpants and a hoodie with a matching beanie.

"What are you doing? Where have you been?" I asked. The dawn's sunlight paralyzed my vision.

"Money doesn't sleep, so I don't. I had to go holler at some distributors and get some breakfast. You know they get the new trucks early in the morning right?" Tony said. I had no idea.

I shrugged as we sat down around his tiny square kitchen table. He rambled on.

"So what I do is I holler at the stores early when the managers are there and tell them my product will sell faster than whatever it is they're ordering. Plus I get all the intel on what's hot in the streets and who's selling the most."

He took a hustler's approach to every day. I had to give him that.

"And what did you learn today?" I said.

"I learned that you can't get a McDouble at 6 AM. Once they flip the signs over it's a wrap," he replied.

"That's all you learned? You got up this early for that?" I said.

"Well, the guy I wanted to holler at didn't have time to chop it up so I brought him breakfast and kept it moving. He wanted a burger though. I'm kind of mad I couldn't get that burger. But you know what he'll think about when he looks at a Brown Hawk ad? He won't be thinking about liquor, he'll be thinking about that food. And that's how I get ahead. You got to connect with people in these streets," Tony schooled me as he scrolled through his phone.

It made sense but I didn't understand how that applied to my situation. "That's actually really smart," I said back.

"Have you found anywhere to train for the wrestling yet?" he continued.

"I've only been in Memphis for eleven hours," I said.

"That's long enough. Put some clothes on," he instructed. I didn't like the tone of voice he used. I knew that this was leading to uncomfortable levels of work.

"What are we about to do?" I asked with a slight hint of apprehension.

"Why would you ask that question Bri? You know who you're dealing with. You better be ready to hustle girl," he smiled as he put the phone away.

Tony and I piled in the old school and drove to a part of Memphis I'd never been before. It wasn't hood but it wasn't the burbs either. Tony looked around anxiously as he swerved hard rights and lefts.

"It should be somewhere around here," he said under his breath as he glanced around the buildings along the street. He wasn't exactly sure where we were going either.

It was 7 AM and the streets were slowly getting busier with morning traffic. Tony checked his phone with one hand as he steered with the other. Eventually we pulled in front of a nondescript warehouse-looking building. There were warehouse doors on the outside and large steel regular door. The paint on the building was faded. I had no idea what we were about to get into. Two other cars were parked outside.

Tony pulled up directly in front of the steel door and parked. He instructed me to follow him as he got out. I said nothing as we approached the door. Tony balled his fist and banged on the door.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"Ayoooo!" Tony hollered out.

A couple of moments later the door slowly pushed open. A stocky, middle-aged, frumpy looking white man opened the door. His hair was cut in some sort of mullet. I was not sure what was going down and why we were here.

"Can I help you?" the man said. His blank expression asked why we were at his door. Tony wasn't fazed.

"Is this the school?" Tony said. The man warmed up a little to him almost instantly.

"Yes it is. Do you want to come in?"

Tony motioned me inside. When we got inside the old warehouse I quickly realized it was a gym. A square ring with blue mat and white ropes stood in the center of the building. Around it was a collection of equipment including mats, heavy bags, cardio machines, and free weights.

"So you want to train, huh?" the man said as he walked us around his warehouse gym.

"Nah, not me. My cousin here is interested in your wrestling school," Tony quickly corrected him.

The short trainer cut his eyes at me. He quickly sized me up from head to toe. He wasn't visibly impressed not that I blame him. I wasn't fat but you could tell me and the gym had a long distance relationship.

"What's your name girl?" the trainer asked me. He walked us over to the ring and propped himself up.

"Brianna." I answered.

"Brianna, I'm going to be real with you. This is not the thing for everyone. You're a pretty girl and I'd hate to be the one to make you cry if you get in my ring," he said.

A little eek of self doubt crept in. _Was I good enough?_ Tony sensed it and quickly took control.

"And who are you? What kinds of experience do you got, Jack?" Tony asked in my defense. The man smiled.

"Twenty one years in the business. I worked for all of the big dogs. I've been in there with all the big names. My name is Mark Harris but you probably best remember me as..."

"...El Scorpion," I cut him off. It hit me. I knew exactly who he was. Mark wrestled under a mask and played a Mexican character when he was on TV in WWW. His short stature and government name gave it away.

He cut his eyes at me. I was right.

"You know your history. Very impressive. How long have you been watching wrestling?" he asked.

"My whole life." I answered.

Mark folded his arms.

"Well let's cut down to the nitty gritty. Not many females make it, and I just don't put anyone from my school out there on the main stage. If you can't move, you won't even wrestle a local match for me. Class is $100 a month and we go every weekday with a show about once a month. Usually Saturday. You are required to attend every show because..."

"...that's when WWW sends scouts out to scout talent?!" I cut him off again, as I asked feverishly. I was getting excited hearing about the inside workings of the business I loved.

"You're correct. And only the best get to go to Orlando. I have a 100% success rate. Every student I've sent to Orlando has made it in this business, but its work _._ I'm warning you."

"I want it. I want this," I said. I was determined. I finally felt strong about a decision for the first time I could remember since I graduated college.

"Well if you're ready let's see where you are," Mark said as he rolled into the ring.

"Boys! Let's go!" Mark hollered out.

Out walked two other students from the door marked locker room. My eyes almost failed me. They were two young, meaty, muscular guys. Trainer Mark must have called for the Greek Gods and I just misheard it as boys. One of them had a neat blonde high-and-tight fade with a baby face, while the other had a sprawling but neatly trimmed black beard with slick black hair long enough to braid. Their tights accentuated all of the best qualities.

Blondie introduced himself as Chad. Black beard was more standoffish. "Yegor," he simply nodded and said. I had to snap out of staring at his well defined, tatted up, pecs and abs. Mark motioned them into the ring.

"Fellas, this is..."

"Brianna," I said.

"Fellas this is Brianna. This is our new student. She's going to be with us for the near future." he said. Tony watched from a folding chair outside the ring.

"Brianna get in here!" Mark called to me.

I strained and grunted as I struggled to pull myself into the ring. Mark didn't have any steps on his ring. The three men watched like you would watch a hapless fish out of water. I finally flopped into the ring.

"The first thing you have to learn is how to bump," Mark said. Bumping is a term that simply means fall. In wrestling every move is carefully done so that the wrestler falls to minimize injury as much as possible. It is the building block of all wrestling. If you can't bump, you can't work.

"Yegor please demonstrate a bump," Mark said.

_BOOM!_ Yegor jumped up and fell flat on his back with his arms outstretched. Chad then did the same. Mark motioned to me. I bent my knees and took a deep breath. I took a silent count of one then hopped up. Yegor caught me. His arms squeezed tight around me and placed me back on my feet.

"Poor girl was about to kill herself," Yegor said bluntly. Tony chuckled in the background. I couldn't tell if he was disgusted or concerned.

Mark then demonstrated a bump. He then climbed upon to the top rope and fell back on his back as I saw him do many times as a masked character. In his mid forties, it was much more impressive. He still had it.

"The secret is to tuck your chin in and fall heels first. You absorb the bump first on your feet then your shoulders," Mark said. He motioned to Yegor to assist me.

Yegor held me as I leaned back halfway. I almost forgot what I was doing as I drew his body heat. _BOOM!_ He dropped me and I hit the mat. He looked on with the same unimpressed look.

"Not bad," Chad said.

"Decent," Yegor mumbled.

Mark watched on. He then had us do bumps on a nonstop circuit one after the other. I couldn't keep up. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might explode.

"You good Bri?" Tony asked.

I looked back at the guys who were smoothly doing their bumps without a hitch. I wasn't about to be the weak link. Not today. They would have to drag my cold dead body out of the ring.

"I'm good," I said.

"If you're sure I'm about to bounce. I got some work to do and I'm trying to catch up with some family BS," Tony said.

"You can go. I'm good," I assured him.

As I turned my attention back to what Chad and Yegor were doing they now were running the ropes, bouncing off one side then another. It was all a blur. Mark called for me to take a seat with him outside the ring as the guys went into their routine of bouncing off the ropes then throwing each other over one another's heads, scooping each other into body slams, and countering each maneuver. It was like magic.

Mark leaned into me.

"I like to let them go until it's time for me to step in. I believe each day you try to get just a little fraction of a percent better and let it pile up. That's how I lasted 21 years in this business. No one gave me a chance either. I was much like you. I wasn't anything to look at initially but each day, each year, I lifted a little bit heavier. I got a little stronger. I got a little more crisp. I think you can do the same if you stay dedicated."

I nodded. I was totally out of breath. Mark sent me to get some water and take care of myself.

The rest of the day I simply practiced running the ropes and learning my way in and out of the ring. I mostly watched Yegor and Chad practice moves and lift weights. They rarely spoke. They trained together but they also realized they were in direct competition with one another. Only the best would make it to Orlando.

Chad drove Yegor and I home. I sat upfront in Chad's black Chevy Impala as Yegor silently sat behind me. He said nothing the entire ride. Yegor stayed in a middle class apartment complex not too far from the school, so we dropped him off first. He quietly slung his gym back over his shoulder and got out. We locked eyes for a brief moment.

"Thanks," he coldly said to Chad before he turned and disappeared into the building.

"He's not much of a talker," I said as Chad drove me back to Tony's place.

"Don't mind Yegor. He has gone through a lot recently. I'm sure he's glad to have you too. We don't get too many females coming through," he replied. I was intrigued.

"What happened if you don't mind?" I asked.

Chad steered on as he told the story.

"He was in WWW not too long ago, maybe like two years ago. He was doing really well down there before he got injured. He slipped a disc in his back. Then they cut him because of his crappy attitude and he hasn't been the same since."

I wasn't surprised to hear about Yegor's attitude. I was surprised to hear he was already in WWW though. "Mark told me he had a 100% success rate," I said.

"Yegor was very much successful. He was one of the brightest young talents in the business. Do you remember a guy named William Paddington?" Chad asked.

"Yes. I actually do. But he wasn't Russian..." I said.

"That was Yegor believe it or not. He just played a British character for television. You probably don't remember him because of the tats and beard. But it's him. Same guy."

I thought about it. Under that beard and mop it was indeed the same guy. He aged into a harsher tattooed version of that young guy everyone loved.

We got to Tony's place. I rolled out. "Appreciate the ride Chad. See you tomorrow," I said.

"You need us to pick you up? It's nothing." Chad asked.

"Sure. That would be good."
CHAPTER 5

The following weeks of class were grueling. Each day began with cardio and weights, followed by an intense session in the ring. Every day I was pushed further and further, learning new moves, and how to maneuver around the ring. Mark, Chad, and Yegor did not wait for me. I was expected to jump in and get up to speed as quickly as possible. No one was there to babysit.

Yegor's frosty attitude slowly softened. He'd catch me as I slipped off the top rope, took a bump wrong and spot me as I lifted weights. He never spoke more than a few words. Usually those words were instructions. "Not like that, like this," he would command. I listened to him as he became a personal trainer of sorts to me.

The next Saturday would be my first show. I wasn't scheduled to participate. Mark took Chad, Yegor, and I out to dinner to discuss the show. Mark was a stickler for detail as you would imagine a guy who wrestled the Mexican style for over a decade.

He went over every little detail of the show down to the music, what the guys would say on the microphone, how they would come out to the ring, and how the match would work. Wrestling was predetermined. I always knew this but I had no idea how much thought went into each move.

Mark sat in the restaurant with a large yellow legal pad and pen. He scribbled a page and a half of notes as he dictated to us.

"Chad you're going to come out first, then Yegor. You will be wrestling each other. Chad you're going to work as the face (good guy), Yegor you'll be the heel (bad guy). I want an up tempo. You should be doing a lot of combinations and coming off the ropes as much as possible. Don't bore them."

Chad nodded as he got the instructions. Yegor did not change his stoic demeanor.

The Saturday show was a joint collaboration between several small schools. Twelve students would be showcased. Mark would only be sending Yegor and Chad to participate. After class, I spoke to Chad in confidence again after we dropped Yegor off.

"Are you nervous?" I said.

"Nervous about what?" he asked.

"The show. Aren't you nervous about the opportunity? Like, what happens if you mess up? What happens if you have a bad match?"

"You have a lot to learn young lady. You are talking to the king of bad matches. I should have made it to Orlando at least a year ago. I just screwed up so much. I had a match once where I forgot the finish, another where I dropped a guy on his head, and another where I got into it with a fan," Chad smirked.

I didn't know much about his background. I just assumed by looks that Chad generally got everything he wanted. From what I knew life was pretty easy for 6'4 blonde white guys.

"Wow. I would have never guessed. What do you mean you got into it with a fan?" I asked.

Chad swallowed hard. He was uncomfortable with the topic. "I was working as a heel, a bad guy, and the whole thing went left. I was insulting this guy in the crowd who was heckling me and next thing I know he jumps the rail. The clown came at me with a combat knife."

"Wow, what did you do?" I asked.

"I took him out. I used a technique to disarm him and I broke his arm. Right there in the middle of the ring in front of everyone. Since then I've worked as a face. It's kind of understood I'm not to work as a heel," he said.

"I can see it's still real to some people," I said.

"I guess. But that happened in front of the WWW scouts so I have a black eye in the industry. People call me a hothead but really I'm just good at ticking people off. I've been told that I would have been called up if it wasn't for the liability," he smirked.

It was a lot to take in. I never would have thought that Chad had those kinds of issues. Of course I had no insight to add. I just nodded and held my thoughts.

"Don't let me scare you off. Me and Yegor are good guys. Like everyone, we have pasts. The only difference is that ours are public. Thank God for Mark though. He's really done something in giving us the opportunity to get our names back," he continued.

After I got back I flicked on television. Laura Grey was on TV again. Once again it was the same song and dance. She insulted the rest of the female competitors until another challenger stepped up to the plate. And like the last show, Laura couldn't be stopped. She made short work of her victim while the crowd egged her on. Again she flung the bright pink Ladybird Championship belt around her shoulder as she basked in the glory.

I couldn't lie.

She was the best I'd ever seen.

***

Saturday quickly came. It was time for the showcase event. The event was held at a local high school gym, with a small crowd of around 200 out to watch. The ring sat in the middle of the gym with several mats outside it and steel barricades bordering the crowd. Most of the crowd was families with young children but there were a few obvious industry insiders. Those were the scouts everyone was there to impress.

I accompanied Mark backstage. Everyone kind of stood around waiting for their call to the curtain. Mark found Yegor and Chad mulling around along one of the walls. He gave them a much needed pep talk.

"You guys know what tonight is, I don't need to tell you the importance of going out and having a good show. Remember you are in competition with no one but yourself. Just do the best you can. You are already prepared. Nothing can happen that you don't let happen.

"Chad, forget about the critics. Dial in. I need you focused on tonight. Yegor, I need you to perk up. Emote. They need to see that you care. I know that both of you care but no one out there knows until you show them. Let's make it happen fellas."

Mark patted each of them on the back and left to mingle with some of the other veteran trainers.

Yegor paced around with his head down. Something was bothering him. I walked over to him. He ignored me as he continued pacing. I wasn't sure if it was a ritual or if he was having a moment.

"Yegor? Yegor?" I said.

He ignored my call. I grabbed him. It stopped him in his pace. His bearded face scowled up at my touch.

"Are you ok?" I said. He turned his face from eye contact.

"I am fine," he said. He wasn't fine.

I didn't know what to say but I tried regardless.

"Listen. Forget about that William Paddington stuff. That was a long time ago. You are you now. All you have is now," I said to him. He snapped his head back at the mention of his previous stage name.

"I know who you were. And I know who you are now. You aren't what the industry says. You aren't who they think you are," I continued.

"You know nothing," Yegor dismissed. I shrugged. I tried.

"Ok. Be known as the guy who failed as William Paddington forever. Be the guy they used to like. Cry over your past forever," I said.

He turned his back to me and started stretching. Chad's eyes lit up. No one ever spoke to Yegor like this. Chad was fearful for me. Yegor grunted then walked outside to be alone.

"Wow. That was awesome. What made you say all that?" Chad asked as he approached me.

"I care."

***

The lights in the gym dimmed. The crowd hushed. It was time. A loud guitar ripped through the speakers. Lights flashed abroad. It was time for Chad and Yegor.

Chad burst through the curtain with a huge smile on his face as the crowd applauded the good guy. He took his time to get to the ring, high fiving fans to cement his position as the match's face character. I sat in the crowd along with Mark. He said nothing as his student hammed up for the crowd.

Another song hit, this time a much slower, darker song filled with horns. The lights dimmed as Yegor walked out. He paced to the ring, ignoring the crowd. Some of the children in the crowd booed the bad guy as he made his way to the ring.

The guys stood face to face as the bell rung. Yegor slapped Chad with an open hand as he commanded his position as the heel character. They tussled around the ring as the match started. A few moments in Chad asserted control.

The guys moved crisp, every move was beyond perfect. They came off the ropes, caught each other in body slams, and came off the top rope to the crowd's delight. The match was fast paced just as Mark wanted.

Yegor looked out to the crowd as he left Chad on the mat. He scanned quickly, locking eyes with me then quickly darting away.

"He needs to get some heat. As a heel, the crowd should be invested in seeing you lose. They should be booing right now," Mark whispered as he leaned into me. Yegor didn't have that connection with the crowd.

Quickly Chad hopped up and dropkicked him. The crowd livened up. He knocked Yegor down with a clothesline as the crowd started to clamor more and more.

"See, Chad's over. They want him to win," Mark said. Chad started a spirit clap as he made his comeback. The crowd clapped in unison as Chad went on a run, landing combinations of kicks and punches before hitting his finishing move.

The referee counted _, one... two... three,_ it was over. Chad was victorious. The crowd applauded as his hand was raised as the victor. Yegor rolled out of the ring and walked slowly backstage while Chad basked in the crowd's love.

"Let's go," Mark instructed as he got up. We headed to the back to debrief Chad and Yegor.

Backstage Yegor sat alone on the floor along one of the walls. He held his head down in disappointment. He was not happy with his performance.

"Good match," Mark said as he slapped him on the back. Yegor nodded. Moments later Chad came back with a huge smile on his face.

"That was awesome! I feel really good about tonight," Chad said.

"It was ok," Yegor said.

"You guys did good. You almost lost the crowd for a moment there, but it wasn't too bad. I'm going to go see what the scouts think," Mark spoke up. Yegor wasn't moved. His demeanor was one of certain defeat.

"I'm going to hit the shower," Chad said.

Yegor and I were left alone. I sat down on the floor next to him. I could feel he didn't want to talk so I just sat with him for a few minutes. About five minutes later he broke the silence.

"What did you think?" he asked.

"You did good.You know that," I said.

"I don't think so. Just tell me what was wrong," he replied.

"It's the crowd. You weren't getting a reaction from the crowd. That's the problem," I said.

Yegor went completely silent for a moment. He reflected on what happened. "They loved William Paddington," he quietly said. Again, he turned his face the opposite way to avoid eye contact.

"Mark said that they should have been booing you before Chad made the comeback," I replied.

The problem wasn't that he didn't know what to do; it was that he didn't know how to do it. I was learning that a big part of wrestling was psychological and Yegor didn't have the role down. He secretly wanted to be cheered. He loved playing the baby face character of William Paddington. His frosty exterior was all just a show to cover up. I felt I was finally starting to really understand him.

"Well, you can always ask Mark to play the face," I said. Yegor continued to look away.

"I can't change Mark's decision. He told me to be the heel," he said. With that he got up and headed to the shower. His upper body glistened from sweat. I couldn't help but stare.

Once the guys got dressed we found Mark so we could leave. Mark seemed rather upbeat. He had some news.

"I have some good news," Mark beamed as we gathered in a huddle, "the WWW has extended an invitation." Everyone looked at each other. This was a big moment.

"Congrats Chad."
CHAPTER 6

The ride home was terribly silent. Yegor was mulling in depression and Chad was too afraid to speak. I had to do something to break the ice. I confronted the issue head on. It was all I knew.

"Do you know why they only picked you Chad?" I asked. Chad's eyes fearfully cut at me in the front seat. He didn't want to discuss this in front of Yegor.

"Who knows? Wrestling is a unique business," Chad quickly said.

"I'm asking because both of you did well, you two had the best match in my opinion. There has to be a reason they only want you," I said.

Chad was not cool with the conversation. He quickly changed topics.

"Mark says he can give you two rides while I'm in Orlando. I'll be right back. It's nothing serious. It's not like I'm going straight to the main stage."

"You're not coming back," Yegor spoke up from the back seat. The tension could be cut with a knife. "That's not how it works. Once you're in Orlando you're in WWW. You're not coming back."

"But I don't get it. Why would they only take one of you?" I asked.

"That's not your problem," Yegor said. The car stopped. We were at Yegor's place.

It was probably the last time he'd see Chad for a while. Yegor didn't care. He slung his gym bag over his shoulder and got out. He issued his usual cold thank you and entered his apartment building.

Chad pulled the car into reverse as we began to leave. Something in my stomach shifted. This wasn't right. I had to do something.

"Stop!" I said to Chad. He looked at me like I was crazy. I got out the car.

"Brianna what are you doing?" Chad called to me. I ignored him as I sprinted back to the building.

I was out of breath by the time I got to the door. I quickly flung it open and ran down the hallway, each step burning my chest as I was completely out of breath. I got to the end of the hall. There was another hall. I scanned left, then right. That's when I saw him.

"Yegor!" I forced out of my drained lungs. He stopped in place, looking at me with puzzled eyes.

"What do you want? Why are you here?" he asked as I ran over to him.

"This has to stop. You cannot do this forever. Why do you act like this?" I asked. He turned his head, avoiding eye contact once again.

"Why do you care?" he said.

"Because I do! People care about you. We want to help you and you just push us away!" I yelled back.

"I'm not talking about this here. Come inside," he commanded.

I walked shoulder to shoulder with him to his apartment a few doors down the hall. He unlocked the door and led me inside.

Yegor's place was very modest. It was a studio apartment with nothing more than a bed, computer, and a table. Scattered across the studio were half empty bottles of protein powder and Gatorade. There were also books. A lot of books.

He slung his gym bag on the bed. "Say what you have to say," he instructed.

"See, why do you have to be like this?" I asked. I sat down on the bed as he mulled around.

"Why do you care about me?" he asked again. The fact that I already answered the question once obviously was not good enough for him.

"Because I like you, you idiot!" I yelled at him. He was stunned. He said nothing; he just looked at me with a look I'd never seen before behind his thick black beard.

"You play like you're this tough guy, but your actions say otherwise. You've helped me with everything since day one. You even told Mark to let Chad work as the face because of what happened to him in the past. You wanted him to get invited to Orlando. _I know,_ " I replied as he said nothing and me down.

"Really? You're still going to play tough guy? There's no one here but you and I," I said.

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not a good guy," he sighed then broke his silence. He was committed to the act. I was determined to break him down.

"Tell me about you then. What happened so bad that you can't drop the attitude for just me?" I said. He walked slowly towards me as his demeanor softened a bit.

"I am an orphan, and an immigrant. I was sent here when I was two years old. I've never met my parents. I don't know what happened to them. I've never been told what happened or why I was sent here. I'm just here."

"I grew up in Oakland, California. I was a poor immigrant with no money. No parents. The people who raised me weren't even family; they were just people who were told by whoever in Russia to take care of me. No one has ever explained anything to me. Wrestling is the only thing I can do to make a decent living, well, if I was in WWW and you already know that story," he continued as I took it in.

"But you're a good guy. Why act this way? I know you care about others. You can't even pretend that you don't," I cut him off.

"That doesn't mean anything. You need to realize that. It's not about words. Your country is backwards. You'd rather say you care and not insure accountability. Most don't give a damn. That is fact," he responded.

He sat down on the bed his hand grazed my leg. It slowly crept up closer and closer. I grew anxious. I took a deep breath as he looked me in the eye.

"Brianna, you have a lot to learn. You're a very pretty girl. You weren't bad before you got in shape either. You'll go far in this business. We have to train tomorrow and you have a ride to catch."

He got up and walked with me to the front door of the building. Chad was still outside waiting in the Impala.

"Goodnight Brianna," Yegor said as I got back in the car.

Chad was astonished. He asked me what was going on as we drove off. "What did you say to him?"

"I just wanted to make sure he was ok," I replied as Chad nodded.

"Oh, and what happened?"

"I learned a little more about why he is the way his is," I said.

"And why is that?" Chad asked.

"He's a crazy Russian guy."

"I knew that already. Did he say anything about me going to WWW? He didn't seem too pleased," Chad laughed.

"He wanted you to make it. You know that, right?" I said.

Chad shrugged. "I guess so. When you train with a guy as long as we've trained you kind of root for the guy, so I can see that." he said.

"No. He specifically wanted you to work as the face. He wanted you to get over. He wanted to help you make it," I corrected him.

"I'm not sure about all that. Yegor is a hard ass. I have the feeling you're off on that one Bri," Chad dismissed. We pulled in front of our destination. It was time for me to retire for the evening.

"I'm sure he's happy for you," I said, then added, "Either way, congrats on everything and thanks for all the help." I gave him a congratulatory hug before I left for Tony's.

Little did I know the drama was only just beginning that evening. When I made it up to the apartment I noticed there was an older white couple outside our door. I'd never seen them before. I brushed past them to open the door. The woman, a frail short blonde lady about 50, spoke up.

"And who are you?!" she hollered. I was taken back by the confrontation.

"Excuse me?!" I said.

"Are you Tony's new hoochie momma girlfriend?" she asked. The gray bearded man who I presumed to be her husband nodded.

"I'm sorry but you have me mistaken for someone," I said as I closed the door and went inside. As soon as the door latched closed, they began banging on it like savages. I looked over to the living room. Tony sat with his hands in his head. He was beyond stressed.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Those are Jamie's dumbass parents. Ignore them; they are probably drunk or high. They'll eventually get the point," he said. I went to Little T's room and retrieved the shiny Desert Eagle. I put it in my hoodie pocket. I wasn't taking any chances.

"I'm about to make them leave," I said.

"Good luck. Just don't give them any money," Tony replied.

The knocking increased louder and louder. I slung the door open.

" _LOOK._ I don't know what you want but it's not here," I asserted. They didn't even process the statement.

"Tony! Quit being a deadbeat! Pay for your children!" the woman blasted. Tony had enough. He hurried to the door, brushing past me.

"I ain't giving you shit! You're just here because you want money and I'm not about to give you any! You want some money? Call your daughter!" he screamed.

"We didn't ask you to knock our daughter up! Now take care of your responsibilities _Toooooooony,_ " the woman retorted. Tony was right, she was intoxicated off something.

"That was five years ago! I'm not having this argument with you every time you need something. Listen, get the hell from round here or I'm calling the police. If it wasn't for my son I'd slap the shit out of both of you," Tony replied.

I watched on as the couple stirred around. They were deciding whether to press the issue or leave. The man mumbled something as they turned down the stairs. Tony wasn't done.

"And don't even think about coming around here when my son is here. You fucking fiends!"

He slammed the door as they finally departed.

"Why do you deal with that?" I asked.

Tony shook his head. "Brianna, you have a lot to learn."

***

Training the next week was awkward. Without Chad it was just Yegor and I there in practical silence lifting weights, spotting each other, and doing cardio. I couldn't fathom how Chad dealt with him on a daily basis before I arrived.

Mark didn't have any direct instruction for us most of the day. He left us to do our own thing while he made phone calls to insure Chad's travel arrangements were taken care of. It was always a big deal when a trainer sent a student down to WWW. The whole industry knew about it and that trainer got a little added notoriety to his name.

When it was time for the in-ring portion of the day's training session, Mark took time to call us to the ring to brief us.

"Being that Chad is gone and it's just you two now Brianna you're going to have to wrestle Yegor until another student signs up. Are you comfortable with this?" Mark said.

I let out a quick, "Yes," as I looked Yegor's muscle bound body up and down.

I was beyond fine with wrestling the Russian.

On this day, Yegor said nothing as he took to a corner to wait for the start of our practice match. Mark called us to begin as I trotted out of my corner to initiate a grapple. Yegor did not take it easy on me.

He threw me off the ropes with what felt like all his strength then caught me in a headlock. I dropped down to one knee as he applied pressure. He leaned his body weight on me as I succumbed to the move and fell to the mat. That didn't stop him.

Yegor continued to mount pressure as I struggled to breathe in the grip of the headlock. My head remained cradled in his forearm as he applied pressure. I felt his fuzzy beard tickle the back of my ear. Then I felt his lips graze the nape of my neck. I could have sworn he kissed me.

He released the hold and got up, visibly frustrated. "That was not good," he said with a disappointed tone, then insulted, "Fight back like a man."

We restarted the match, this time I was aggressive in my approach. I worked hard to maneuver around the ring, using the tactics I learned to run the ropes and duck his grasp. I landed a perfect dropkick to which Mark let out a loud _ooh!_

I was feeling myself now. I waited for Yegor to get up and dashed at him again, looking to land a flying clothesline. Yegor caught me in mid air and slammed me down to the mat along with his own bodyweight. I remained pinned between his body and the mat as he applied pressure. His beard tickled my face once again as I basked in his hunky frame and enjoyed the feeling of his body mounted on top of me. I could feel him pressed up against my lap. Business was stiffening up. He again threw himself off of me in disgust.

"Fight back Brianna," he commanded.

We redid the spot over and the second time I fought out of the front mount. It did not matter though. Soon as I got back to my feet Yegor hit me with a front kick, then slammed me down to the mat in his special DDT. I laid down for the three count pin.

Afterwards, Mark went over everything with us in tedious detail. He was extremely impressed with how far I came. I was proud of myself as I beamed with confidence for the rest of the day.

"You did well," was all Yegor could say, coldly. I knew he enjoyed my performance whether he would admit it or not.

***

Another surprise was waiting for me when I got back to Tony's.

I unlocked the door and let myself into the apartment as I'd done many times in the past only this time something was different. The light was on in Little T's room. I walked in and saw the little boy playing on the bed.

"Who are you?" he asked me.

"I'm your cousin Brianna," I told Little T.

"You know my dad?" the cute boy asked.

"Your dad is my first cousin. I've known him since I was a little girl," I said.

"Do you live here?" the boy asked. He was in the question asking phase of life.

"She's only here until she goes to Orlando," Tony boasted as he interrupted. He was cleaned up a bit since the morning. It looked like he had his dreads freshly twisted for the occasion.

"Sorry Brianna. Jamie just dumped him on me for the week. Apparently there is some kind of school break."

I actually loved having Little T over since I barely got to see him.

"Jamie is my mommy. We drove all day to see daddy!" Little T exclaimed. His curly afro made everything he said much cuter than it really was.

"How far is Lexington?" I asked Tony.

"Six hours," he replied.

"I'm guessing she left?" I said.

"Yeah. Not without the drama of course. We good though," Tony exclaimed.

"Daddy! What are we going to do now that Brianna is here?!" Little T asked. Tony was bewildered. He had no idea how to talk in children terms.

"What do you mean? She ain't Michelle Obama. You're not going to do anything but get ready to take a bath and go to sleep," Tony said to his son.

"Can I watch tee vee?" the little heart throb asked as he played with his light brown afro.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Six. And a half!" the boy commanded. I looked at Tony.

"I thought you said he was five?" I asked.

"Hey I was locked, I don't know," Tony said with a shrug.

"What's locked?" Little T asked.

"That's what you're going to be if you don't quit asking questions. I'm going to lock you in this room forever," Tony joked back.

"No! Mommy says that you were locked away before for doing bad things. Were you locked in your room too?" the boy asked.

"Yes. That's exactly what happened and you need to be good so it won't happen to you," Tony educated his son as he retired to his room. "Little T you can watch TV for fifteen minutes then you need to come take a bath and sleep in my bed."

I sat on the bed with Little T and cut on the television. He plopped his little afro right into my belly. On television again was WWW's weekly wrestling program. It was literally the only program I made time to watch each and every week. The boy leaped up when he saw it.

"Wrestling!" he exclaimed.

"What do you know about wrestling?" I asked.

"I know that you have to go like this (kicks air) and then _BOOM!_ To win!" he replied. The boy's enthusiasm was contagious.

"Do you know that's what I do? I'm a wrestler," I smiled as I told him. His eyes widened like dinner plates. He was amazed.

"Daddy!" he screamed. "What?!" Tony said as he walked back in the room.

"Is Brianna a wrestler?!" Little T asked. Tony glanced at the television. He then glanced at me.

"Yes. Brianna is a wrestler. She ain't no good though," he teased. Little T was fascinated.

"So you go like this (punches air) then _BOOM!_ " he asked.

"Yes. Sort of," I said.

On the television a familiar song played. It was Laura Grey's theme music. She came to the ring to a chorus of boos with that big pink championship belt slung across her shoulders. That smug look of unraveled confidence was on her face. She was so good I hated her. I studied her movements. Laura paused for a moment to let the crowd be heard. She grabbed the microphone.

"Once again I come to this ring to ask the same question. Is there any woman in this company or in the world that can beat me? I'm going to start challenging men soon since I'm running out of little girls to whip," Laura commanded.

"Can you beat her?" Little T asked. I pretended to ignore the question. He repeated it.

"Brianna, can you beat her?" he asked again.

"Yes T. Yes I can," I said.

"I can."
CHAPTER 7

Fifteen minutes of wrestling and another Laura Grey victory later, it was time for Little T to go to sleep. Tony took him in his room as they got ready for the night. Before they shut eye I approached my cousin to ask a favor.

"Tony, can I drive your car?" I asked.

"Where are you going?" he said.

"I'm going to see a friend, in town," I replied.

"Sure as long as you aren't going to Nashville," he joked. He threw me the keys. I tucked them in my hoodie and bounced.

If I wasn't in gym clothes I pretty much wore leggings and a t shirt every day. Today was a bit different. I made more of an effort on this occasion. Under the hoodie I had on a low cut blouse, and skinny jeans. I also made the effort to do my black curly hair and put on some accentuating makeup with eyeliner. With the weight loss I had morphed into a pretty girl I did not recognize.

I hopped in the old school and cranked the ignition. I put the car in reverse and steered the big steering wheel. The dashboard was a classic analog wood dash. I felt like an old 70's pimp driving the car. I could see why Tony loved it so much.

I headed to the apartment complex which Yegor lived. When I arrived, I pulled the car to park and took a big breath. I was not good at just popping up on people but I was bored, lonely, and he was the only person I knew in Memphis outside of family I didn't want to hang with. I made my way inside and down to his door. I knocked twice.

He answered the door. "Brianna, come in," he instructed.

It was an odd way to address an unexpected visitor but I didn't think much of it. I came in and sat down on the bed again. He sat on a chair reading from his stack of books. I quickly scanned the collection. They were all books on the Cold War, spying, and Russia. He was obsessed with piecing together his past.

"How long have you been studying?" I asked.

"Tonight three hours. All together, twenty years," he replied. I sat quietly and admired him. He wore a white t shirt two sizes too small for him and sweat pants. His long hair was tucked neatly behind his ears as he dove into his reading.

"You're going to make yourself sick. You can't focus on your past forever," I said. He looked up. I cut him off before he could speak.

"I know I have a lot to learn," I mocked.

"No. I wasn't going to say that. I was going to ask how you knew that. How do you know that this is making me sick?"

I thought about it as he stared me down.

"You're looking for the answers to something that cannot be explained. Some things in life you just have to accept they are the way they are," I spoke. He mulled it over.

"Again, you have a lot to learn," he teased.

"Quit this. Let's do something. Do you always just sit here and read?" I said.

"Brianna, this is something. The truth is all we have," he replied.

"I don't know much about my family history either. You know, because of slavery and all that. It's like dad, granddad, great granddad, great great granddad, then boat," I joked.

"That is not funny," Yegor said with a stone tone.

"I can't do anything about it. Slaves didn't keep good records," I said.

"You aren't searching deep enough. That's why you'll never find the answers. The history is not your story. It's _his_ story. You must question everything," the studious Russian quipped back.

"You're right," I said, then went on, "Come sit next to me. Keep me company. I'm bored."

He stared at me for a moment then silently got up and joined me shoulder-to-shoulder on the bed, book still in hand. It was _A History of Russia_ , some book on Russian history. It was terribly dog eared and highlighted. Notes were scribbled in the margins.

"Do you study wrestling this deeply?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

"Then why couldn't you get a crowd reaction? You must have known what you were doing wrong," I said.

"Because sometimes you have to let the next man shine," he replied.

"You just wanted Chad out of the way so you could work as a face?" I said. He said nothing as he turned a page in the book.

"Yegor that's not what's going to happen. They aren't going to hire you back as a face. William Paddington is dead. You're not liked in this business. You know that. That's why you are the way you are. Why not bring the character you play on a daily basis to the ring and really be disliked? Look at Laura Grey. She uses her real life arrogance in the ring," I said.

He took it in as he read on.

"Brianna you have good ideas. But they are just that, ideas. Once you know the truth you'll finally be free," he said.

"What's the truth?! What is it?!" I asked.

"The truth is they want Chad. They don't want me."

"I want you." I said.

He looked up and said nothing. The silence spoke louder than either one of us could. He held my gaze as he leaned in and pressed his lips upon mine. Everything warmed up as he pressed his chest onto mine.

I was never one to let myself lose all inhibitions, but I simply could not stop myself. I took his shirt off and devoured his bare chest with my lips. He returned the favor. The bearded one put his beard to good use as it tickled.

That evening we consummated our, whatever it was. That night titles were of no use. We were simply man and woman, enjoying each other in an evening of raw passion. I relaxed and took in all of what he had to offer, slowly easing in every bit. Every stroke was as if we were trying to paint a beautiful painting titled love. I closed my eyes and let him have his way with my body and enjoyed every moment.

***

Training the day was a bit more awkward than usual. We silently worked out and did cardio, occasionally spotting each other but for the most part lifting light enough so that a spotter wasn't needed. Yegor and I both averted eye contact. Then it came the dreaded part of the session where we had to get in the ring.

I haphazardly moved around the ring. I cautiously maneuvered as I tried not to brush up against him too close or too long. Today, I was the cold avoidant one. What we did was affecting my work. I was feeling things that I did not want to process at the moment.

Mark could sense something was up. "Are you two banging?" he asked bluntly.

"No."

"Yes."

I cut my eyes at Yegor. This was the one time he needed to avoid a question and he didn't. Mark look at us then laughed.

"I don't know what is up but get over it. Sexual tension is going to happen in this business. But in here it's all about the ring. Let's work."

We restarted and our match went without hiccup. It was actually the best match we ever had. It could have been the tension or whatever, but I cranked it up to another notch. I was coming off the ropes at full speed hitting dropkicks and clotheslines with ease. I was reversing Yegor's holds and putting him in my own submission holds. Every maneuver was slick, perfectly timed, and executed properly. I glanced at Mark. His jaw was literally dropped. He called off the match before we could execute the finish.

"Enough! Enough!" Mark shouted, he couldn't stop, "This is awesome! What has gotten into you two? I wish I had the nerve to film this. This is the best I've seen both of you in weeks!"

I panted as the sweat beaded down my brow and neck. I was completely spent. The compliments gave me enough energy to stand up straight.

"Brianna I think it's time to put you in the showcase," Mark continued.

"Really?!" I smiled. I glanced at Yegor. For the first time ever I saw him crack a smile.

***

"We should celebrate," Yegor said to me as I slung my gym bag over my shoulder. We were freshly out of our gym clothes and ready to call it a day. I awaited Mark to finish up his phone calls and drive us home. I peered at Yegor who oddly seemed excited, though he poorly masked it.

"In Russia, we celebrate accomplishments," he boasted again.

"I thought you grew up in Oakland?" I questioned.

"In California, we also celebrate accomplishments," he forced back.

When Mark arrived Yegor insisted that we go out and that he'd pay it. It felt like he may have done physical harm to us if we said no.

So there we were; Yegor, Mark, and I at a local steakhouse. Yegor commanded our poor waiter to _get the lady whatever she wants._ His voice tone was that of a king commanding his servants. I thanked him and politely asked him to take it a notch down. Our poor waiter was a high school kid all of 150 pounds. The little guy looked like he peed his pants when Yegor barked on him.

Mark quietly went through the menu. Of course his writing pad was with him.

"Brianna, unfortunately your opponent isn't going to be Yegor this Saturday," Mark said as he looked over the drink options, as he continued, "Unfortunately they don't want to see women wrestle big guys. Sorry Yegor. It's just not a good visual."

"But we can put on a good match. You've seen it." I replied.

"It's just not believable. It would hurt the whole vibe. Besides, this is the Bible belt. I'm not trying to portray that image. I have an opponent lined up for Yegor," Mark said.

"So who am I going to wrestle?" I asked.

"I don't know yet. But you know I'll prepare you for anything," Mark said.

"We are here to celebrate," Yegor interjected.

"In Russia, we drink. Waiter! Bring us beer!" he shouted across the entire restaurant and bar. The staff was visibly rattled by the bearded wrestler's exclamation. About twenty seconds later a beer pitcher and three glasses quickly made their way to our table.

Yegor helped himself as Mark and I continued to chat about the match and the industry. I was incredibly nervous about my first real match. Mark insisted he'd work his connections and get me an opponent I could have a great match with. For the first time I felt like an insider. I felt like I was finally apart of something. This is what I was supposed to do. At that moment I wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

***

Saturday rolled around. It was that time. I woke up with butterflies turning over my stomach. After years of watching wrestling on television, this would be my first time ever as the one being watched.

This week's show was at the same high school as the previous show I attended. Tony and Little T drove me to my show. It was one of the proudest moments of my short career. Little T constantly asked where we were going. I finally told him.

"We are going to see wrestling," I said. The boy lit up.

"Are _YOU_ wrestling?"

"Yes. Yes I am," I smiled a big warm smile back. The boy looked at his father who nodded then back to me.

"WOW! Are you going to go _BOOM!_ " he asked.

"I'm going to try."

I hopped out the old school and slung my gym bag over my hoodie. I scurried into the gym to the women's locker room. It was the first time I'd ever been in a locker room as an athlete. I sat alone on one of the benches as I took my tights and top out of my gym bag. I took it all in. I was finally here.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Someone outside knocked on the locker room's door. I called them to come in. In walked Yegor in navy blue sweats. He held a shoebox underneath his left arm. He looked around quietly.

"Are there any other females in here?" he asked. His black beard was way too overgrown but freshly trimmed up.

"No. I'm the only one so far. I wonder who I'm wrestling. I hope she gets here soon," I said.

Yegor sat down next to me. He placed the shoe box in my lap. "Open this," he instructed.

I opened up the box. My eyes lit up. My heart fluttered. He didn't have to do this. He had bought me a pair of boots. The slick white boots had a black letter 'B' custom embellished on each side. It was my first pair of real wrestling boots.

"Thank you so much. You really didn't have to," I said. Yegor nodded as he got up. He bent down and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Good luck Brianna," he whispered before he left.

I joined Mark, Tony, and his son back in the crowd as the event started. I wanted to catch Yegor's match before I got ready for my debut. He was wrestling first; there were only four matches on the card.

Minutes after I got seated the lights dimmed. That cold music filled with horns played. It was Yegor's time to come to the ring. He was wrestling as the heel once again. As he came to the ring, some teenage fans started to heckle him.

"WIL-LIAM PAD-ING-TON!" they chanted and teased Yegor. He snapped.

He grabbed the microphone and rolled into the ring. The feedback squeaked loudly. For a moment it quelled the chants.

Yegor took the floor.

"William Paddington is dead!" he yelled, as he continued, "I only did it to infiltrate America and take over the wrestling business. You think I'm a wrestler but little do you Neanderthals know I am a Russian spy!"

The fans booed loudly. The teenagers started a U-S-A chant. It took over the arena. Yegor had finally done it. He managed to get heat from the crowd. He was finally getting over. A soft rock song cut the chants short. Yegors opponent was hitting the ring.

Yegor's opponent was a short, thin newbie I'd never seen before. He was from one of the other schools and seemed very green to the business. He rocked black tights and his brown hair was cut in a bowl style haircut. Physically, he had no business in the ring with Yegor. The fact that Yegor had already managed to get the crowd against him and behind this kid was amazing in itself.

Yegor took notice of the hecklers. "I WILL WIN THIS FOR RUSSIA!" he shouted at the kids. The USA chants began again, louder and louder.

Mark was beaming with pride. He leaned into me.

"I don't know what you did to him. I've been trying to get him to address that crap for two years. You come by and all of sudden he finally gets his head out his ass. Good gob Bri."

I smiled at Mark then glanced towards Yegor. He winked at me as the match began.

Being a seasoned performer by this point, Yegor had no problem with the rookie. The kid threw his best punches and kicks which the crowd got behind momentarily. Yegor bounced back with a big slam. He was too much for the kid. He grabbed the kid by the head, threw him off the ropes and hit him with a big boot to the face. The crowd booed again. Yegor paused and pointed at the heckling section again.

"William Paddington huh? That's what you want?!" he called to them. They booed back mercilessly. Yegor then finished off his overmatched opponent with a power bomb and three count.

After winning the match, he rolled out of the ring and approached the fans.

"Go back to Russia! USA!" the fans shouted at him.

Yegor approached our section. He held a scowl behind his beard as he walked over and punched Mark. Mark oversold the punch and fell to the ground pretending to be knocked out. I played along and slapped Yegor. The crowd ate it up.

He quickly grabbed me by the chin, pulled me in for a forced kiss, then pushed me away as if he was disgusted. The crowd rained down more and more boos. Yegor grabbed Mark's writing pad of notes as if it was an important document and pretended to steal it. Fans booed him and threw trash at him. "Call the police! He can't get away with doing that!" I even heard one child cry to his parents.

Afterwards I met up with Yegor backstage. It was almost time for my debut. I already had my gear on under my sweats so I quickly dropped my clothes off in the female locker room before meeting up with Yegor. There was still no sign of a female opponent.

"Did I do good?" he asked, still dripping from perspiration. His skin illuminated under the dingy lighting.

"You did well. I was really surprised. I think Mark was impressed too," I replied.

He nodded. "Mark was impressed. Good. Who are you wrestling?"

"I don't know. There wasn't any one in the female locker room and I'm next," I said uneasily.

"Probably some rookie. If she's late tell Mark I'm wrestling you. You go over," he instructed. I did not feel right about that. Though we had good chemistry, I wanted him to shine on his own.

"Russian spy, you have 50 kids outside waiting for your autograph," Mark interrupted him.

Yegor shrugged and went to meet his new audience. In wrestling something funny happens. The cool bad guys are booed but they are also loved. This is called getting over. Only the very best know how to get over as a heel to the point fans think the bad guy is actually cool. Yegor had finally crossed that line.

***

I dwindled around backstage waiting for my moment. My new boots were laced all the way up to the top, while my black tights and black top hugged my new athletic body. I still didn't know who I was going to wrestle but it didn't matter. It was go time. Either I was going to sink or swim. I wouldn't let a lack of familiarity with my opponent stop that.

They played a fast paced pop song for my intro. I took a deep breath. This was it.

I jogged through the curtains to a mild applause. It wasn't the roar of a massive arena but you couldn't tell me that. I took the time to slap every fan five as humanly possible, making sure I gave Little T his special attention before I rolled into the ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Brianna!" the announcer announced in the tiny gym. I closed my eyes and envisioned one day hearing my name announced in the WWW.

Before I could breathe in and out again the lighting dimmed. A thunderous marching-like beat of drums played. My opponent reveled themselves. Out walked El Scorpion. I couldn't believe my eyes. Internally I was extremely nervous facing not only a veteran of that magnitude, but also a dear friend and instructor. Mark hadn't donned his masked gimmick in years. I didn't want to let him down.

He played the Mexican character to a tee, making slow controlled movements to the ring and bowing as he entered. I left my corner and approached him face to face. "You got this Brianna," he whispered as he stayed true to the gimmick and bowed to my approach.

_DING! DING!_ The bell rung and it was time to get it on. The match started off fast paced. Mark was used to wrestling the faster pace as a Mexican character and I had to keep up. I knew he wouldn't expect anything less. He threw me off the ropes, I ran as hard as I could and bounced back into a clothesline. Mark followed it up with a quick slam and furious kicks. The crowd chanted YOU-STIL-GOT-IT to the old man. It wasn't a secret who was under the mask.

I climbed back on my feet. It was time to mount some offense of my own. I ducked one of Mark's punches and landed a perfect dropkick. The dropkick had become my signature move. Mark tumbled to the canvas and rolled around to sell the power of the move. I waved to the crowd. They slowly got behind me with applause.

I locked Mark in a headlock as he worked his way back to his feet. He pushed me into the corner. "Keep it going." he whispered under the mask.

He threw me out of the corner, I ran towards the other corner. Right as I was going to hit the corner I jumped and sprung myself back off the turnbuckles into a body press. Mark caught me and tumbled to the ground.

_One...two..._ Mark kicked out. The crowd cheered at the high flying move. "Finish it," Mark whispered to me as he got up.

I went to throw a punch, he countered into a roll up pin. I rolled through and countered with my own roll up. _One... two... three!_ It was over! I won my first match.

The crowd applauded as I held my hands in victory. A feeling of pride warmed me. I felt like I had finally climbed the mountain. I finally mattered. I looked out to the crowd, little boys and girls had huge smiles on their faces. Little T was jumping around and laughing. I couldn't feel any better.

Minutes later I made my way to the backstage area. Yegor was waiting on me.

"That was good," he said. I was so excited I couldn't even talk. I just hugged him and smiled.

Mark made his way to the back. He was unmasked and totally exhausted. It was a hilarious sight to see this middle aged guy with a mullet in a Mexican wrestling singlet. A group of other trainers and wrestlers slowly formed around Mark to pay their respects to the old vet.

It had been a while since he performed. I quietly left for the female locker room to get dressed. When I returned the crowd was thinned out. Yegor awaited in his sweats with his gym bag.

I couldn't find Mark. I really wanted to know how I did. Yegor hadn't seen him either.

"It's not a big deal," I said, "I can see if my cousin left already."

I looked through the crowd. No Tony. I looked back in the gym, it was totally empty. We were on our own. Apparently each thought the other were giving us a ride. We were assed out.

"Let's just walk. It's only a few miles to my place," Yegor suggested. I shrugged. I didn't have any other ideas. As we made our way out of the gym a group of fans outside noticed us. It was the teenage hecklers.

"There he is! The Russian!" one of the boys yelled. Quickly we had a crowd of five pimply, greasy, awkward wrestling nerds surrounding us.

"Dude you rocked as William Paddington!" one of them exclaimed. Yegor's response was timely.

"William Paddington is dead. You are being watched, you all will be the reason America is the next country to be defeated by Russia." He was always in character.

"U-S-A! U-S-A!" the boys shouted as they played along. They followed us as we tried to walk home.

"Why do you chant for USA? Don't you know the American flag is the most hated symbol in the world?" Yegor retorted. The boys argued back just as teenagers would.

"Hell no! Screw you. F you! USA!" Yegor was getting a rise out of them. I think he enjoyed it.

I zoned out as Yegor continued to spit out Cold War facts at the kids who now somehow had formed a group with us. All that studying was finally being used. The boys egged him on. They started singing the National Anthem.

" _Ohhh say can you see...."_ their pitchy voices boasted.

Yegor loved it. He sang some sort of anthem back in Russian. I had no idea he knew the language.

After about a block or two I could tell it was growing tired. I stopped the group.

"Alright guys it's time for ya'll to go home," I said. We were on a seedy strip of town. It was certainly not the type of place you'd want to walk alone especially as it got darker outside. The boys frowned as they began to leave.

Out of nowhere a bum looking man approached us. He looked homeless in his knit hat, cutoff mittens, dirty shirt and pants. I had no money to give. He approached the group.

"Everyone give it up!" he yelled as he brandished a matte black nine millimeter handgun. We were being mugged.

"Everyone run!" Yegor commanded.

_POW!_ He punched the mugger with all of his power. He hit him so hard it sounded like someone hit a baseball. The man fell down to one knee, dazed. The group kind of slowed up as Yegor continued to tackle the man.

"Get out of here! Brianna go!" he proclaimed like a general in a war. They tussled as Yegor attempted to pin down the firearm. I ran as hard as I could.

_BANG!_ A single shot rang out.

I looked behind me.

A lonely body lay on the pavement.
CHAPTER 8

"Can you give us your names again please?" the Memphis Police Department Officer asked as I sat on the pavement. He held a large clipboard underneath his arm. His blue uniform was barely visible if it wasn't for the reflection of street light off his gold badges.

"Brianna Hall," I responded. The officer twitched his brown, weathered face and nodded.

"Yegor Makarov," he said. My ears perked up. It was the first time I'd heard his full name.

I looked around. It was a scene straight out of a movie. Two squad cars were pulled up next to us, red and blue lights blaring. Paramedics hurriedly loaded the shooting victim in an ambulance. Fresh red blood was all over the pavement just fifty feet from where I sat.

The mugger was locked in handcuffs with his head jammed on the trunk of one of the squad cars as another officer read him his Miranda rights at gunpoint. To the left of me were the teenage fans, looking as if their worlds just ended. They held their heads down as nonstop tears drenched their clothing. Their buddy was the one who the bullet marked.

"So tell us again what happened?" the officer asked.

"We were walking, all of us, and he tried to mug us. The guy pulled a gun then he fought him as we tried to run away," I replied. The officer scribbled down each word as he listened. Everyone told the same story of the night's events as he went down the line.

"Do you want to get a police escort home?" I whispered to Yegor. He dismissed the idea instantly.

"Fear does not rule me. We will walk," he said.

Minutes later the police had all of their work done. A detective came to collect all of the evidence and the boys were given rides home. Yegor and I walked, just as he insisted.

"What a night," I said as we walked arm-in-arm. It felt good to be snuggled up next to him despite the circumstances. He seemed to soften up a little.

"Life is crazy. You have to learn to appreciate it, you know," Yegor said, then looked off in the distance, "Any night anything can happen. You already know that. You're from Memphis."

"Actually I'm not. I'm from Nashville. My family is from Memphis but my parents raised me in Nashville," I corrected as we strolled under the street lights.

"Either way. You have to be grateful for the moment. Never live in fear of the next. Know that. Everything that happens is just an event. It is no more important than the event before or after," Yegor preached.

"How can you say that? That kid got shot!" I remarked.

"He'll be alright," Yegor dismissed. His lack of concern for the victim was alarming but it made sense to him. He wasn't going to spend any of his moments on sympathy. To him, the kid's fate was out of his hands one way or the other.

"Tell me about your parents. You know my story. I want to know about you," he continued.

"Well, my dad is a truck driver and my mom is a homemaker. She runs the youth council at her church now. We, my sister and I, had a regular life. We played with the neighborhood kids, watched wrestling, went to school and off to college," I said.

"So you are college educated? I would have never known. What do you study?" Yegor asked intently. Learning was one of his few passions in life.

"I studied liberal arts. I couldn't find a job so I started working at Kinkos. I was going insane there and decided to up and move to Memphis and start over. Wrestling is something I always knew I could do. I'm glad I made that decision. Very glad," I said as I squeezed his arm tight as we locked eyes.

"Wrestling is a tough business. You're a smart girl and you know that. But you have to learn. It's a business where you cannot stop studying. It's all about people. If you cannot read people then you will not make it," he proclaimed.

"So why were you having such a hard time getting a crowd reaction?" I asked.

"I wasn't letting it come through. A part of me still holds on to that feeling. You can't understand," he replied, then continued, "When I was in WWW everything was different. They loved me. I was being pushed hard. Kids wore my t shirt. I thought everything was going to continue on that path, then it just happened. After the injury the push ended. I was just another guy. Slowly but surely they gave up on me. But I'll prove them wrong. I'll prove them all wrong."

"What are you going to do differently when you get back down there?" I said.

"I won't know until I'm in the moment. But it will be something magnificent," he boasted. We turned a corner and there was his apartment building about two blocks away. The walk went by quicker than we expected. Yegor turned face-to-face with me.

"You are going to stay over?" he said bluntly. I couldn't tell if it was a statement or a question. Either way the answer was yes, of course. We approached his apartment slowly as we enjoyed every moment of the end of our evening walk.

The night was capped off with an amazing love making session. Everything was perfect. There was no music, no grunts, no candles, none of that. Our time together was just skin-to-skin, uncut, passion. I clinched his strong back for what felt like hours as every thrust was deeper than the previous. Every kiss lasted longer than the one before. Everything was in a word, perfect. When two people have a connection you don't need all of the bells and whistles. That's one of the things I was beginning to learn.

***

The feeling in the air was pretty somber that following Monday as training started.

"I heard about what happened. That was some crazy stuff," Mark said, then went on, "I'm just glad you two weren't hurt. I already called the kid's family and arranged to send him some of my classic memorabilia. His family seemed pretty stoked about it."

"I'm just glad no one was killed," I said.

I was still shaken up by the whole ordeal. It showed as I moved around with a heavy heart. A lot was on my mind. Thoughts of mortality, friendship, love, whatever Yegor and I had, and the uncertainty of my career all swirled in and out of my consciousness. I couldn't find the ability to focus on what I was doing. My workout suffered.

"Yegor, where did you get off trying to fight? Next time that happens just give it up. I know you're a tough guy but tough guys get killed all the time," Mark said to the bearded one. Yegor's mindset was night and day compared to mind.

"In Russia, we fight," Yegor proclaimed. He was already over the situation. Mark dropped it. He was smart enough to know this conversation wasn't going anywhere.

"Well guys, if you want to cut it short we can ride over to the hospital around lunchtime. I talked to the kid's family and they said that he's alright. He just had a wound to the leg. They did surgery last night. He's going to be alright. They expect him to bounce back in about four to six weeks."

Yegor cut his eyes at me. He was right. Everything was out of our control. "Sure, we can ride over there. It's the least we can do," he said to Mark.

I hated hospitals. The last time I'd been in one was when my niece was born. The Memphis hospital was just like any other hospital. Everything was clean, dreary, and somber. It was a real sobering experience walking through the halls glancing at sick patients, and worried families.

Mark hit up the front desk and got the directions to where the boy was being kept. We went up to his room on the second floor for our visit.

The boy's parents were with him bedside. He sat upright, watching television. His black hair was matted down from sleeping, his pimped face showed all of his maybe sixteen years. When we walked in his eyes lit up.

"Knock, knock!" Mark said as we slowly walked in.

"Yegor!" the boy raised his small voice. His parents were disturbed by the boy's enthusiasm.

"Mom, Dad, that's him! He saved us." the boy said.

Mark introduced himself to the boy's parents. They seemed put off at first that a bunch of wrestlers were here to see their son. In their mind, had the boy not had an interest in wrestling he'd probably be in a much safer position in life. I would have probably thought the same if it wasn't for Yegor. There is no such thing as safe. I was beginning to learn.

"I'm so sorry about this," I said to the boy's parents. They grunted out a low thank you in response. This was not going so well. Everyone was hurting. Maybe we had shown up too soon.

The boy called out to Yegor again who still hadn't spoken a word.

"Yegor! You saved an American! How does that feel?"

Yegor wasn't in character. A growing look of concern painted his face as he scanned back and forth between the boy and his visibly hurt parents. Yegor slowly approached the bed.

"I never got your name," Yegor said.

"Brad, my name is Brad," the boy answered. "I'm the one who was calling you William Paddington." he said with a mischievous grin.

His parents were beyond confused at the interaction. Mark and I looked on with smiles. Yegor grabbed young Brad by the shoulder.

"Brad, you're a funny guy. You're also well read. That's impressive you knew that," he said. I'd never seen Yegor like this. He was relating to the boy one-on-one as a person. He was no longer the cold, icy, competitor that he fronted as.

"You want to hear something about that?" he asked the boy.

"Yes!" Brad said with a twinge of glee.

"I've been trying to avoid the William Paddington thing for almost two years. Not many fans even know that was me. It wasn't until you started that chant that I actually I had to deal with it front and center in the ring. I don't think I would have ever addressed it if it wasn't for you. You can ask them," he said as he pointed to Mark and I.

"I would apologize but that isn't enough words. All I can do is tell you I did what I felt was right. It was a bunch of kids; he could have hurt them all. I just... I just...." Yegor said as he turned to the boy's parents.

The boy's father cut him off.

"We heard the story. Thank you so much. Had Brad kept running like you told him he would have never got shot. As a military man, I appreciate what you did. I would do the same for your family. That's what this country is all about."

Yegor offered a handshake but Brad's father declined.

"For what you did, you get a hug young man."

The parents embraced Yegor as if he was their own son. Brad's mother was losing it. The tears flew as she grasped Yegor and thanked him again and again. I felt myself beginning to cry.

"U-S-A!" Brad teased Yegor. The big bad Russian spy was caught hugging a military veteran. Yegor laughed once he realized the irony of the situation. Mark and I laughed as well.

"Come here you!" Yegor teased back as he rubbed the boy's mop of hair. It was heartwarming to see Mr. Frosty interact with the family so well. A few minutes later we took photos with everyone and let them have their privacy.

"I'm proud of you guys," Mark said, he continued as he drove us back, "The way you handled that family, that was big Yegor. That's the kind of stuff that people need to see from you. If they got to know you I'm sure WWW would call you back up."

"They know me. They know what I can do. They know who I am," Yegor said bluntly. He was back to his usual self.

"But what you did in there, that wasn't you. That's not the guy people know," Mark corrected.

"Mark, there are two sides to every story," Yegor retorted as he stared out the rear passenger window of Mark's sedan. Mark gave up. He wasn't going to try to convince the inconvincible.

Moments later we pulled back in front of the old warehouse gym. It was beginning to feel like a second home. We piled out of the car and got ready to finish up the day's work. Something was off.

Mark was on his phone listening to something that seemed important. Whatever it was had full control of Mark's attention. It looked as if he was getting a load of bad news.

"What's up?" I said before I entered the building. Mark was twiddling with his touch screen with a crazed look in his eye.

"I just turned my phone back on, I got a voicemail. That was one of the trainers from WWW. They saw the tape," he said.

"And?" I asked. I was ready for the news. I didn't need Mark to sugarcoat it. Yegor looked on silently. The bearded one listened in like a German Sheppard.

"...I need both of you to pack your things for Orlando."

"You made it."
CHAPTER 9

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" I ran in Tony's apartment screaming at the top of my lungs.

He was on the couch working on his liquor route on the laptop. He had no idea what was going on. I startled him as I jumped for joy. I was like a seven year old who just got a new bike for Christmas.

"What's up with you cuz?!" he asked. I didn't stop to answer as I screamed until my lungs gave in.

Finally I caught my breath and shared the news.

"I'm going to Orlando! I made it!" I exclaimed. Tony hopped up off the couch.

"Oh my goodness! That's big!" he shouted as he gave me a big hug. We jumped around like little kids.

"When do you leave?" he asked.

"As soon as possible. I don't know if we're getting a bus, or a rental, or flying. I was just told to get ready right now!" I said.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Someone was at the door. Perhaps it was a disturbed neighbor. I swung open the door and immediately recognized who it was. It was the woman I'd only seen in photos until this point. It was Jamie, Little T's mother.

The tattooed-up blonde was not pleased. Jamie was cute in a certain kind of way, real petite with doll-like facial features and a penchant for mismatch makeup. I didn't know her story but it was clear she had a rough life.

"Who are you?" she said with a scowl that meant _I'm ready to fight_ sprawled on her face.

"I'm T's cousin, Brianna." I replied. Tony quickly pushed his way past me into the door frame.

"Brianna you need to be packing. Let me holler at her real quick."

I obliged as I made my way to the boy's room to pack my things. In the background I could hear Jamie and Tony arguing loudly about money.

"Tell your parents stop coming over here looking for money too! They don't even see my son!" he boasted.

Jamie screamed something back about taxes, child support, and gas money. Tony walked back into the apartment, got his wallet, and then sent his angry baby momma on her way. He massaged his dreaded scalp and exhaled as he joined me in the boy's room.

"Are you ok? That sounded intense," I asked.

"Brianna whatever you do, don't have no kids until you are sure. Until you are 110% ready. This life ain't no joke," he confessed.

I laughed as I folded random items of clothes. I balanced them next to my half full gym bag and the shoe box which contained my wrestling boots.

"And don't get in no relationships either," Tony exhaled.

Yegor came by to pick me up about 10 minutes later. It was the first time he'd been over and I was super excited to see him. With almost no greeting, he came in the apartment to help me grab my things. Apparently we were driving down to Orlando since he arrived in a rental car.

The drive down to Orlando would be 11 hours. This would also be my last time seeing my cousin Tony for a while. I gave him a hug before I left as I thanked him for all his help.

"Ay Brianna!" Tony said as I trotted down the stairs to the rental. "Remember what I told you earlier."

I laughed as I continued walking. He could sense the tension between Yegor and I. It was nerve wrecking but Tony's teasing assured me I'd be alright. I climbed in the discreet little gray sedan and we took off for our destination.

It was still early in the day so we were going to try to make the entire trip in one drive. To my surprise Yegor was a calm and quiet driver. He didn't listen to the radio nor did he speak. He simply focused on what he was doing. I wasn't even sure if he even had a driver's license since I'd never seen him behind the wheel before.

"So we'll get there around midnight?" I said to break the silence. He ignored me.

"Yegor!" I repeated.

"Brianna?" he replied. I repeated the question again.

"Yes. We'll get there in eleven hours," he assured.

I wanted to use the downtime to ask him so many questions. I still knew so little about him, but I knew he wouldn't be up for talking about his past. It was a topic he avoided since knew so little about his past himself. Instead I decided to talk about life in general. I was not up for 11 hours of pure silence.

"So, are you excited?" I asked. Again he ignored the question.

"Yegor! Why are you fronting on me? There is no one here but me and you!" I shouted. He was not fazed.

"Brianna, you ask a lot of questions. I don't have the answers," he replied with a matter-of-fact tone.

"I'm just trying to talk to you," I said.

"Fine, then talk," he said sternly. It was back to the Cold War with the Russian.

"Tell me about your past relationships. Tell me about your girlfriends. Tell me how you grew up," I said.

He rolled his eyes. The highway was commanding his attention. After a brief moment, he began talking again.

"No girlfriends. No girls. And I'm from Oakland, you know that," he spoke as if he was checking off boxes. I had to pry to get him to go deeper on any personal subject.

"Yes, but I don't know anything about you. I want to know something personal about you. You told me yourself, seek the answers. I'm looking for the answers about you," I said.

"Just ask me the question and I'll answer it," he retorted.

"Why don't you have any ex-girlfriends? Why are you so mad when I ask you about your past?" I asked.

He grazed his beard and nodded. "I wasn't allowed to have girls in the house," he said, then paused, "Growing up an immigrant is tough. Oakland is a rough place. I grew up in a really strict home. Girls were not allowed. Games were not allowed. I had to study and do my school."

Things were beginning to make a little more sense. I thought about asking a follow up question on his childhood, but it seemed like too touchy a subject for an 11 hour ride.

"What's that Russian song you sang to the kids? I didn't know you spoke the language," I remarked.

"I speak it when I have to. I deal with people from home all the time. It's just easier to say some things in Russian," he replied.

We pulled off the exit somewhere in Alabama. I hadn't noticed but we were making considerable time. Yegor pulled the rental to a truck stop. It was one of those big truck stops with a gas station, restaurant, and convenience store all in one. He pulled the car into a parking spot and we headed inside the store.

"Do you need anything?" he asked. I declined.

I followed as he walked around the store and grabbed a handful of snacks which included beef jerky and Gatorade. We got up to the counter and he also ordered a pack of cigarettes. I found that odd but didn't say anything until we got back outside. He leaned on the car and puffed one of the menthols as he stared off into the distance.

"I never knew you smoked," I said to break the silence. It was still mid-day. The sun wasn't completely down yet but it was getting darker with each passing moment.

"I don't. I have something on my mind," he replied.

"And should I waste my time asking what?" I said.

"I'm worried about you. You don't know what you're getting into," he said, then continued, "What you're about to get into is different. It's not about wrestling. It's about politics. Remember I said that."

"What do you mean it's not about wrestling?" I asked.

"I've seen a lot. I've seen a lot of people go down there and lose their hopes and dreams. It's not what you think. It isn't about anything other than who you know and who likes you. Keep that in mind," he replied.

"Is that what happened to you?" I asked as the sunlight evaporated amongst us.

"There are two sides to every story Brianna. I didn't play the politics. It got me in trouble," he said as he took a drag from the cigarette. I listened closely; it was always a gem when Yegor told a detailed story of his past.

"Have you ever had your boyfriend cheat on you? Because that's how it feels. They're going to get you down there, they're going to teach you all this crap about how it really works and then it's going to flip. You're going to make the wrong person mad and it all goes down from there.

"When I was down there it was all good doing the British thing. Then I got hurt." he spoke with commanding conviction.

He paused to enjoy his cigarette. The smoke was barely visible as the sun set. I leaned on the car against him as we watched the end of the sunset.

"I tried to work through the injury but it was too painful. Every morning was a struggle. I simply couldn't do what they asked. But I knew I couldn't get surgery. If I sat out for six months they'd write me out the script. So I took my chances. They knew I was injured and they held it against me. They turned me into a loser. Match after match I lost. Then they tried to say it was my fault, like I didn't want to be there when I was doing everything humanly possible to get out there. There are whole matches I watch now that I don't even remember because of all the drugs I was on," he went on.

I nodded as he bore his story. "Brianna, I'm worried about you. You're too good. It's different down there. They don't play fair," he warned.

"Why didn't you tell me all this earlier? I knew a little but only what Chad told me," I said.

"Chad doesn't know anything. He's a pretty boy. They're going to drop him too. No one needs to know because none of them care. You care."

I smiled on the inside. I felt we were growing really close in a short amount of time. I didn't know if it was because of the business or if it was two people genuinely caring about each other.

"When we get down there remember just everything I told you," he repeated.

"You said it was like a cheating boyfriend. I've... never had a boyfriend before. Not a real one," I said softly. Yegor finished the cigarette and crushed it under his boot. He stopped to listen to my story. It was a moment I didn't mind extending.

"It just never happened. I don't know why. I don't think I'm ugly. Guys loved my sister. It's just that no one was really interested in me for whatever reason. Not in high school or college."

Yegor draped his arm around me. It didn't matter if he was resting his arm or holding me. It felt right. "You're a beautiful woman. Now get in the car," he said. The moment was over. He was back to acting like he didn't care.

Five or six hours later we finally got down to Orlando. That night we checked into some hotel in Winter Park. It was my second time in the city. The first time was a Disney World trip so I really had no idea where we were. Yegor knew his way around town pretty well.

The older black lady at the front desk perked up when we walked in the dim lobby. It must have been a slow night. She looked at us as if we were the first people she'd seen in years.

"Oh joy! Welcome to Orlando. Will you be needing a twin or a queen?"

I looked at Yegor. He dismissed my glance.

"Queen," he said. And like that, it was guaranteed we would be sleeping in the same bed.

There wasn't any marathon love making session that night. It was quite the contrary. Yegor did what he was best at: read a book in bed under the dingy hotel lighting. I didn't care. It was enough to be with him and to share that intimate moment in time.

Instead of turning on the television I laid my head on his shirtless chest and dozed off as he read on a pointed out anecdotes of Russian politics. Before that night I'd never heard the name Putin so often.

I couldn't deny it. I was falling for him, and falling fast. I never in a million years thought I'd feel so strongly about a guy, especially not an anti-social loner. But there he was whispering to me about the USSR, and I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world. He held me and read as I dozed off into dreamland...
CHAPTER 10

The WWW training center was huge. Huge wasn't even a good description. Gigantic. The training center was housed in a movie studio. The building was so big it felt like walking into an airplane hangar compared to our tiny warehouse in Memphis. The studio held eight wrestling rings back-to-back, each with eager hopefuls from all over the country practicing their skills. I couldn't lie it was a bit intimidating.

"Don't be afraid. Remember what I told you. The ring doesn't matter; just do what you've been taught," Yegor whispered down to me as we walked in. I shook my head in acknowledgement as we waited for a trainer to greet us.

"I guess these are our new students!" a slick, confident voice said from behind. I could feel myself already sweating in my spandex gear. Today was going to be a long day.

A short dark skin black man greeted us. I instantly recognized him from television. He was known in the ring as the Most Valuable Person, or P (as in MVP) for short. He was about 30 years old, 5'9 with a wild natural afro. You wouldn't know it by looking at him but he was one of the greatest of all time and was one of the only wrestlers to win every championship belt at least once. When he saw Yegor's face he broke into a big mischievous smile.

"Look what the wind blew in! I don't believe it. Is that really you Yiggy?" the vet said. Yegor rolled his eyes at the mention of his apparent nickname.

"He calls me that because he can't pronounce my name." Yegor said out loud.

"I'm sorry. I almost forgot to introduce myself, I'm P." he said as we shook hands.

"Give me a minute; I have to get your paperwork from my assistant. I'll be right back."

P left through one of the rear studio doors.

"P runs everything down here. He virtually writes the entire show," Yegor said.

"Is he a friend of yours?" I asked.

"He created the William Paddington character," Yegor said bluntly. The answer sounded like a vague yes.

P returned with two contracts pinned to clipboards. "Yiggy you've been through this, but this is your contract. It includes a waiver and your payment agreement. It's $1000 per week when you're down here until you're on television, then you'll be offered a deal for your TV rights and all that," he said.

I looked at Yegor. "I've read this contract seven times. You can sign it," he confirmed. We were good to go.

P led us to one of the rear training rings. Two other male students practiced bumps furiously as we watched outside. The clash of the violent slams to the mat made me cringe a little.

"Clear the ring boys," P instructed to the two hopefuls. They stopped what they were doing and rolled out of the ring. P then called us to get in the ring as he followed.

"Yiggy, I've seen your tapes. I know what you can do obviously. You're in better shape than you were last time I saw you too. I'm more interested in seeing what the lady can do. Lock up with me."

I locked up with P, gripping his shoulders. He then threw me off the ropes, I ran back swiftly as I'd done thousands of times in Memphis. He hit me with a light clothesline to which I hit a hard bump on the map. P twisted his face up. He wasn't sold.

"Okay. That wasn't bad. I want you to watch for today. Just get your mental reps in," he said.

The rest of the day I watched silently as Yegor and P practiced with the unknowns. It was clear as day that Yegor was on P's level and head-and-shoulders above any of the unknowns. Afterwards we hit the hotel to retire for the night.

"Don't let them get to you," Yegor said as I quietly sat on the bed watching television. He thumbed through a book as he spoke.

"That's how it starts. They try to break you down mentally first, then physically. Then you're done. Only the strong survive in this company."

I shrugged as I exhaled.

"I guess. What do you think is going to happen to me? I'm like the only girl down there, and everyone else is so good. They aren't as good as you but they all are pretty impressive. If P doesn't think I'm on their level, I'm nev—"

He cut me off.

"Don't say you can't do something. P isn't that simple. This business is not like that. You cannot predict who's going to make it. One day they could cut you just because they don't like the way you shake their hand, or you could get called up because someone likes your look. There's no way to call it."

I took that as a sign to let it go. He was right.

***

The next day training began intense. We started off with heavy weight training. Since there wasn't a gym at the WWW facility Yegor and I had to go to a local gym. Several of the hopefuls I saw from the previous day were in there early. Everyone was in a silent competition, lifting each rep harder than the previous. I did my best to keep up. It wasn't even eight o'clock by the time we were finished and headed to the facility.

Everyone separated to their assigned rings to get started the day. It was still a sight to see the actual size of the facility. I got goose bumps every time I laid eyes on the massive studio. As Yegor and I began to ascend on the ring we were assigned the previous day P called us to the side. Something wasn't right. P's mood was a bit down. He combed his fingers through his unkempt afro as he spoke.

"I don't know how to break this to you. So I'm just going to tell you," he said, hesitating, "Yiggy, you don't need to be down here. I got something for you to do."

Yegor and I quietly looked at each other as we processed what was happening.

"I need you on the road as soon as possible Yiggy," P said.

"Congrats. You made it back to the big show. I never thought this would happen to be honest. You're way too good to be wasted down here with the newbies."

Yegor nodded. His poker face didn't tell if he was happy or not. He simply shook P's hand and followed him out of the studio. I imagine they had a lot of paperwork to do as making it to the main show meant negotiating a brand new, lucrative, contract.

Moments later P emerged alone. I warmed up in the ring with the two hopefuls from the previous day.

"Brianna, I need to talk to you," P called me out of the ring.

"As you know you're the only female here right now. That isn't an issue but I want to make sure you understand everything properly. It's a slightly different style we require from the Ladybirds."

The back door of the studio opened. A tiny figure peeked out and strolled towards us.

"That's why I called April down to work with you one-on-one," he finished.

It was April the Wonder, the petite Asian performer I'd watched for weeks on television. She was so short she almost looked like a child but she was a veteran of the industry. It was an honor to meet her.

I nervously shook her hand and introduced myself. "You came down just to train me? I couldn't ask for a better day," I said.

"We are actually doing the live show tonight from Tampa. You should ride with me! I need some company!" she remarked.

P smiled and walked off to yell at someone in one of the other rings. He took the two students who previously had the ring with him, giving April and I our own ring to work.

"So how long have you been in the business?" April asked as she warmed up, bouncing off the ropes.

"Just a few months," I said nervously. It was impossible to measure up.

"That's not bad. I saw your tape. You're pretty good to be so green," she replied. I remembered Yegor's advice. I didn't take the opportunity to brag or go into detail. I just laughed it off.

That afternoon April and I went through the basics. She showed me how to do maneuvers with the camera angles in mind. It was a lot to take in. April was super peppy as she showed me different little secrets I'd never known. I was sure to take it all in and not step on any toes, figuratively or literally.

"See when you come out of this corner, the camera is behind you," she'd say, "but when you're in the middle of the ring like this then the camera is in front of you." I noted all of the angles as best I could.

I wanted to ask her so much about her match with Laura that I'd seen weeks prior. It was truly an electric experience watching at home. I wanted to know an insider's take on it so when we finally got to the end of the day's work and she asked if I had any questions I let her have it.

"I saw the match a few weeks back with you and Laura Grey. It was awesome. How did it feel?" I said. April gave me a big toothy smile. She was extremely proud of that match.

"It felt great. I don't know how to put it. There's really nothing like going out there in front of thirty thousand people all cheering you on. Even when you know you're going to lose, you get that feeling from the crowd that just maybe you'll pull it off. That's what makes it so special."

I wanted to take it a step further and ask about Laura directly but I decided not to press my luck.

Afterwards April asked me again about attending the show with her that night. "So, you are coming with me to Tampa tonight right?" she said.

"I have nothing better to do. I don't even know what's going on with my ride. I just got down here yesterday," I replied.

"Who's your ride?" she asked.

"Yegor." I said. She cut her eyes away at the mention of his name.

"He's a unique character isn't he?" she asked.

"He's cool. He's not bad once you get to know him," I replied. April shrugged.

"Yiggy was never a people person. That's cool that you know him. Anyways, I'll drive you to your hotel then we'll hit the road."

When I got to the hotel all of Yegor's stuff was gone. He left in a hurry. A handwritten note was scribbled on the hotel paper:

" _Paid for the month."_

-Y

***

The night's live television event was being held in Tampa's Times Forum arena. It was about an hour south from Orlando. April spilled her guts to me the entire ride down. She talked about everything from school, to her love for the business, to her past relationships. I just took it all in, careful not to say anything to rock the boat. I think she was taking a real liking to me.

When we got to the arena it was nothing like I remembered. Thousands of fans mobbed around outside as they waited to get inside. We parked in a secure spot and entered the locker room. It was the first time I'd ever seen the backstage of a professional arena.

There were several ladies warming up and chatting in the locker room. I followed April as she introduced me to everyone. And then we bumped into her, Laura Grey.

Laura's on-air demeanor was nothing compared to her real life arrogance. She had a vibe that said _I'm way better than you_ and she had no problem letting anyone know it. April approached the 6'1 blonde Amazon quietly.

"Laura?"

Laura wasn't trying to talk. She had her beats headphones on. She was in her own world as she unpacked her gear in one of the lockers. I almost fainted as she pulled out the bright pink Ladybird Championship belt from her bag. The light was nearly blinding as it reflected off the gold emblems. It was a sight to see. Laura finally noticed us; she slung her headphones off and around her neck.

"What's up?" she said calmly. April etched a big animated smile.

"Laura! I want to introduce you to one of the new trainees. Laura, Brianna. Brianna, Laura."

Laura gave me a head nod then extended her hand. I trembled inside. I knew handshakes were a funny thing in this company. I gave her a stiff handshake with a smile. I was meeting a living legend in my eyes. Her hands engulfed mine. She almost crushed me from the pressure of her grip. She had hands stronger than any man I knew. This was the most muscular woman I'd ever seen in my life. She was a real life gladiator.

"Nice to meet you," Laura said coldly as she released my hand. April smiled as she led me out of the female locker room to the main backstage area.

"What do you think?" she said with the excitement of a four year old.

"To be honest, I'm kind of nervous. You all are my idols. I'd never thought I'd meet a Ladybird nonetheless be in the locker room with you," I said hesitantly.

"Don't sweat it," April assured me.

I panned around the backstage area. My dreams had come true. I was really here. At every turn I saw a familiar face from television. I couldn't believe it.

"Pretty crazy huh?" April said as she noticed the deer-in-headlights look on my face. "I was the same way when I first came up."

DARKNESS. I couldn't see anything. Someone's hands were over my eyes.

"Guess who?" a familiar voice asked from behind. I couldn't pin down who's voice it was exactly. It certainly wasn't Yegor. I turned around. I laughed as I realized it was my old blonde training buddy.

I hugged Chad as he laughed. "I'm so happy you made it!" he said.

"Not yet. I'm still in Orlando. I was hoping to see you there," I had to correct him.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," Chad said with a bold smile.

He was already in ring attire, shiny new purple trunks with matching knee pads and boots. He looked like he belonged amongst all of the veterans.

"I'm going to get ready for my match I'll talk to you later!" April said as she skipped off towards the female locker room. Chad glanced at her as she left.

"How do you know April?" he asked.

"I just met her today. She gave me some pointers and drove me up here. I think she's going to be training with me in Orlando for a couple of days," I said.

"That's good. For some reason none of the Ladybirds will talk to me," Chad said quietly.

I shrugged. I couldn't help him. Chad looked around then grinned.

"Guess what my gimmick is?" he asked.

"I don't know, surfer dude?" I guessed. Chad shook his head. Wrong.

"I play an English guy. Sir Chadwick Cambridge," he spoke really softly as he spilled the beans. I nodded slowly as I got it. He was essentially the new William Paddington.

"That's interesting. Have you talked to Yegor about this?" I said, matching his low voice.

"What do we need to talk about?! I'm doing what he couldn't. I'm going to take his fumble and go all the way with—" Chad stopped in the middle of his sentence. His eyes lit up as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Someone grasped my wrist tight and tugged it violently. I looked up. The bearded one stared me back in the eyes. He cut his eyes from Chad, totally dismissing his existence. We walked briskly together down one of the arena's corridors to a secluded wing of the building.

"What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.

"I'm just watching the show. April brought me," I said.

He looked right and then left to assure no prying ears were around. He quickly grabbed me by the ears, pulled me in for a prolonged kiss.

"Wow. What was that for?" I said.

"I couldn't have made it back here without you. I got a new deal. Five hundred thousand dollars," he replied.

My eyes lit up. I jumped into his arms and hugged him harder than I'd hugged anyone ever in life. I was so proud of him. I felt like I was the one who made it. He wiped his face. He was beginning to tear up. I'd never saw him this emotional before.

"You don't understand. If I didn't make it back this year I was going to kill myself. This is all I have. I owe you so much."

I held our embrace as he breathed a deep sigh of relief. I started to tremble and tear up as well. The emotion poured out of me but I tried to pull it together. I had to tell him about the news I just got.

"Did you hear what Chad just told me?"

Yegor scrunched up his face. He waited on me to continue.

"He's picking up the William Paddington gimmick. His name is Chadwick Cambridge." I said.

Yegor pulled back at the news. I could tell he still had a soft spot for that character.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "he's not going to last."

"Yiggy?!!" someone called from the other end of the corridor. It was almost bell time.

"I think you need to get out of here," Yegor said to me. I hugged him again and found my way to the arena's skybox. April allocated her friends and family access to me so I was able to watch in the lush comfort of the box.

There was like no one there. Apparently no one in the company had friends and family in central Florida. I noticed two blonde women and a darker brunette off to the side as I sipped on my complementary drink. They were tuned into the action.

"Hey there!" the younger blonde said to me.

"Come sit with us. You must be new to this thing."

I moved to the padded vacant seat next to her. "I'm Amanda. Brian is my husband," she said as she extended her hand. I had no idea who Brian was but I smiled and shook her hand anyway. I wasn't keen to everyone's real names yet. The other blonde extended her hand across the younger's.

"I'm Macy. Laura is my sister." she said. My heart dropped. My mind went totally blank for a minute before I snapped out of it and shook her hand.

"I'm Brianna." I said back.

"Who are you here with? Are you with one of the guys?" Amanda asked. She had on an elegant dress with matching jewels and a designer clutch. Her husband was making bank, whoever he was.

As badly as I wanted to say I _was_ with one of the wrestlers I knew better and played it cool.

"No. April is training me. I'm her guest."

"Oh, April! I love her! She's really nice." Laura's sister interjected.

I smiled as I went with the flow. The brunette said nothing. She calmly looked on. Her vibe was chilling and confrontational. The blondes did not acknowledge her for some odd reason.

We watched on as the evening's matches started. It was truly a sight to see the roar of the crowd from high above. It was nothing like the little 200 member crowds I'd seen in Memphis. Every time the music and lights hit the crowd stood on their feet and went nuts.

One of the first matches was a Ladybirds match. It was a rematch between Laura and April. The blondes looked on with big smiles. Laura came to the ring and did her usual routine. People booed endlessly as Laura boasted on the microphone how great she was. After seeing her in person I wasn't sure if it wasn't true that she indeed was the greatest female athlete of all time.

April's music hit and she came out to a nice cheer. She was clearly a fan favorite. I studied every move as the tiny competitor made her way to the ring.

Even the Ladybird's ring gear was more amazing in person. April wore a two piece bedazzled blue outfit with silver trim and black boots. Laura's muscles hugged a sparkly pair of pink tights and black spandex tank top. They looked like the mega stars they were.

The referee held up the big pink championship belt. It was time. We all looked on silently as the ladies did their thing. I noticed the brunette hadn't moved a muscle as she silently stared on.

The ladies put on an awesome match. They were again perfectly in sync with one another. Every move was done textbook style with no hiccups. I was in awe how well they worked together. It was so good they could probably do the match with their eyes closed.

Again, April made a thunderous comeback to the fans delight. The place was electric as they believed the Amazon would meet her first defeat in the ring. Laura's sister leaned over to me.

"I have to tell you April is pretty awesome. You're in good hands."

_BOOM!_ In a moment, Laura hit her power bomb and the match was over. _One... two... three._ Laura's undefeated record remained intact. The blondes looked on with a sense of pride and joy. The crowd booed Laura as she slung her belt over her shoulder and celebrated.

I forced a smile as Laura basked in the glory.

In my mind I was drawing up my game plan.

I had to be the one.

I had to defeat her.
CHAPTER 11

The following segment was something I never thought I'd see. "Ladies and gentlemen will you please welcome all the way from Wales, Chadwick Cambridge!" the arena announcer belted through the speakers.

Out ran my former training buddy. Chad was decked out in his purple tights and a royal purple robe complete with some sort of scepter. The crowd hesitated to submit a large ovation to him. It was going to be his job to get over.

"What's up, what's up?!" a confident slick voice I vaguely remembered said from behind us. I turned around to see P joining us in the box.

He was dressed in a dark gray suit with no tie. The brunette finally perked up. P leaned in and kissed her right on the lips. He then turned to me.

"This is the girl I was telling you about. This is Brianna," he said to the brunette.

"Brianna, this is Rachel," P said.

My stomach exploded. I instantly realized who the brunette was. She was P's wife and one of the lead writers of the show. She was also Russian, or at least played one on television at one time from what I remembered.

"Nice to meet you. I'm so sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I was into the show," I peeped out.

Rachel could smell fear on your breath. She was the type of woman that could kill a man with a single glance. She held her head peculiarly as she pondered whether or not to fire me on the spot, at least in my mind. My stomach did back flips as I remained completely silent.

"Your Yegor's friend, right?" she asked.

"Yes," I said quietly.

"Ok," she dismissed me. I think I was safe for now.

"Did I miss anything yet?" P interjected. Chad was still in the ring doing his new Chadwick Cambridge routine.

"There are men in this building who are evil, men who I will not allow to dishonor the great fans of this company any longer. I am pure. I am here to restore faith, honor and dignity to those tortured souls. That is the reason I was knighted."

Chad stumbled on his words. He was unconvincing. The crowd could care less. It was obvious he was guessing how to speak as a convincing Brit instead of legitimately stepping into the role.

P twitched his face. He wasn't impressed either. Rachel looked on stone faced.

The lights dimmed. Horns blared as another figure walked out to the ring. It was aother familiar face. It was Yegor. He said nothing as he assaulted Chad, using the fake Brit's own scepter on him. Fans roared as Yegor rained boots down on Chad's back. He then retrieved a large red white and blue American flag from nearby and waved it to the crowds delight.

"U-S-A! U-S-A!" they chanted.

Suddenly, the Russian threw down the stars and stripes in disgust. The crowd booed as he replaced it with a striped Russian flag and covered Chad's comatose body. He made his stake. The Russian was here and he wasn't here to be cheered.

The blondes next to me looked on in bewilderment. Rachel nodded as she exchanged looks with P. He cracked a sly smile.

"What did I tell you? That boy Yiggy is hungry. I've never seen him like this. If I knew he'd come back like this I wouldn't have pushed to keep him last time. Maybe firing him _was_ the best decision. I have no idea who this new guy is, but he is over."

I said nothing as I beamed with pride. It was a long road to get here but we made it.

***

April and I trained together exclusively for the next three weeks. Every day was the same. We practiced move after move, each day getting progressively challenging. April was impressed with my development. Mark had trained me well so I was confident there was nothing I couldn't handle as the WWW style was significantly slower paced.

We were quickly approaching the end of the month. At the end of every month, there was a major pay-per-view event in a big city. I hadn't been called up to the main show yet. I began to get nervous I'd have to move back to Memphis, or even worse Nashville, if things didn't take off soon.

I tracked Yegor's progress on television from the lonely hotel room. He was becoming a major player really quickly. His character was easily the most believable on the entire show. He played Y.X., a power hungry despot from the USSR. His icy personality and controlled motives fueled the on-screen character. If I didn't know better I wouldn't believe he was acting.

Chad's character was trending in the other direction just as Yegor predicted. He couldn't get the believability factor down. No one bought him as a British royalty. He routinely came out to the lowest crowd reactions.

In that time Laura also maintained her perfect record, as I expected.

April sacrificed three weeks of TV time to work with me. I was truly grateful but at the same time worried I was further away from my goal than I knew. That was until a fateful Friday.

We were going through our usual routine. That day there was a small contingent of fans on hand in the studio. April and I had a match as they looked on.

As we went through our routine I worked on slowing my movements as I hit the tiny girl with kicks and knees. The crowd slowly reacted as I threw April off the ropes and attempted to slam her. She reversed it into a flying body press and almost pinned me. I quickly pulled off of her and sprung to my feet.

I landed my dropkick to a few _oohs_ and _awes_ before the fan favorite caught me in with her finishing move, a running slam called a bulldog. She pinned me and finished the match.

P pulled us to the side shortly after the fans left the studio. He had something on his mind. I could tell as he always stared directly at you before he delivered news. He glanced at some notes he had scribbled on a piece of paper before he spoke to April and I.

"As you know, this Sunday is the pay-per-view. I think it's time to do something with you. I want you there. It's time Brianna. You're going to the main stage."

I covered my mouth. I wanted to shout. Tears flowed down my face. I couldn't believe it. I made it. April grabbed me and jumped up and down.

"You did it!" she said.

P let me get a minute to myself before I met him to sign my new contract.

"Do you realize what is happening?!" April continued. I didn't. There was too much going on in my brain to process. I was relieved, excited, and exhausted at the same time.

"Girl, you're debuting at a pay-per-view!" April said.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," was all I could manage to reply with.

The deal was for $90k a year. I couldn't believe it. All of that work, all of that pain and uncertainty finally paid off. I was living the dream. All I could think of was how I owed everyone who believed in me so much.

Before I walked out of the studio's office P stopped me.

"Brianna. Do you know where the pay-per-view is at?" I stopped. I had no clue.

"I'm sorry I didn't look yet," I said.

"It's in Oakland. I'm guessing I need to make flight arrangements for you," P said calmly.

"Yes. I'm sorry," I said.

"Stop apologizing. You aren't expected to know this yet. It's uncommon to debut a student like this. I think you're different so I'm taking a chance. I think the people are really going to love you."

"Thank you for everything," I said.

"Hold up. One more thing. We're adjusting your character a little..."

***

RING... RING....

I waited patiently next to the hotel phone. I had to tell someone. She answered.

"Hello?" my sister picked up.

"NIKKI! I MADE IT!" I blurted out.

"No way, no way!" she screamed back. She was as geeked as I was.

"That's crazy! I'm so proud of you Bri!" We hadn't spoken since I left for Orlando. She had no idea how I was doing.

"Did you call Tony?" she asked.

"I didn't call him yet. You're the first person I called! I can't believe this!" I said.

"I can imagine dad's reaction when I tell him you actually made it. What about when he sees you walk out?" my sister continued.

"What about mom?" I said. We shared a good laugh. My mother was going to freak out when she saw me getting beat up on television.

"Tell Alicia I said I love her. I'm going to call dad," I finished.

My parents took the news just as I expected. My father was swollen with pride while my mother wasn't sure how to take the news. She was actually quite fearful.

"Keep climbing Bri. Keep climbing." my daddy simply proclaimed to me.

***

Within hours it was time for the big day, the Oakland show. As April and I walked through the airport I grew more and more anxious. I knew what I was here for but it never really processed. Walking those steps through the airport I suddenly realized I was walking with a purpose. Here I was walking side-by-side with one of my idols as peers on our way to the biggest show of my life.

We took a rental over to the Oracle Arena. My neck and thighs were damp with perspiration. I'd never been this nervous for anything in my entire life.

My thoughts played out like a movie as I made my way through the arena to the female locker room. April calmly picked out a locker and set up her things as she'd probably done a thousand times before. I trembled as I sat in a distant locker and tried to slow my thoughts to no avail.

_BOOM!_ The door slammed with force as the champion herself walked in. Laura's blonde mane accentuated her broad, defined shoulders and black spandex top. She quietly unpacked her things- including the coveted championship belt.

"You're back," Laura said with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Good to see you," I greeted her and forced a smile.

Moments later I was changed and ready for whatever they were going to throw at me. It was now or never. April and I walked to the common backstage area to find P.

SOMEONE tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around. It was the man who ran the show. P was decked out in another dark suit without a tie. It was his go-to authoritative look.

"Brianna, April! Glad you made it. As you know tonight is the pay-per-view so we are going to do a few things a bit different."

April glanced at me and smiled. She never got nervous, nor was she ever unhappy. She loved every second of this crazy business.

"Brianna you're going to be Brianna Brazil. Just be you, the confident rookie. Nothing special. You're going to start as a face so play to the crowd. You know what to do," P continued. April rubbed my shoulders in encouragement.

"Your opponent tonight is Laura Grey," he finished. My chest imploded. My knees buckled. I felt myself getting dizzy.

"Brianna!" the voice I couldn't wait to hear clamored at me. I looked up. It was him. Yegor swooped me into his arm.

"I made it!" I said. He smirked.

"I know," he said as he pulled his other arm from behind his back. It was a single red rose. "This is for you."

I blushed. The mix of emotions had me completely sprung.

"Welcome to the show. Welcome to Oakland," he kissed me on the forehead.

"Yiggy to the curtain!" P yelled from somewhere I could not see. The backstage area was a complete zoo of TV people, wrestlers, and random staff.

"Wait for me," Yegor said as he took off through the maze of people. I totally forgot April was still there.

"Just a cool friend?" she teased.

"Really cool," I smiled.

***

Before I knew it the time for my match versus Laura had come. I was still worried how'd I do but Laura was a total professional and went over every little detail with me. She made it clear that she did not accept anything less than my best effort. In her words _she was not here to make mistakes, she was here to make history._

Laura slung her belt over her shoulder and hit the curtain. It was go time. I could feel the floor shake as she passed through the curtain. The crowd was near deafening. April rubbed my shoulders as I paced about.

"You got this girl."

I could hear Laura grab the microphone as she went into her regular spiel.

"Week after week I come out here and demolish these little girls you call wrestlers. There is no female in the back, there is no female on this planet that can defeat me!"

Took a deep breath and ran through the curtain as my theme music played. The sped up pop song almost deafened my ears. The ring announcer introduced me as I slapped hands with fans along the way to the ring.

" _And her opponent, from Memphis Tennessee, BRIANNAAAAAAAAAA BRAZILLLLL!"_

I rolled into the ring and stepped face to face with the Barbie bodybuilder. It was on.

_DING! DING!_ The bell sounded. My heart raced. It was the moment I'd waited for my entire life.

We locked up. Laura's strength in person was impossible to prepare for. She pushed me around the ring with ease. It took everything I had to push back with anything near equal force. She pushed me off the ropes; I came back at her with all I had. _SLAM!_ She caught me into a body slam. My back felt like it shattered from the velocity. Laura was no joke, but I knew that.

The crowd of 20,000 plus reacted at the sound my body made when it hit the mat. Laura was not done. She picked me up and put me in a headlock. Her steel biceps felt like a vice grip around my head. I was slowly losing control of the match.

Suddenly, I got a burst of energy. It was time for the comeback. I threw everything I had behind elbow shots to her stomach. She unlocked the hold. I was free. I ran off the ropes and hit her with my running dropkick. The move knocked Laura off her feet, through the ropes, and all the way down to the floor. It was the first time Laura had ever been knocked down like that.

The crowd roared. It looked like the undefeated Ladybird had finally met her match.

Laura slapped the floor mat in frustration. She wasn't expecting to have any trouble putting away a rookie in her first match. She quickly rolled back into the ring. I ran to hit her with a clothesline. Big mistake. The prime athlete ducked under it and speared me out of mid air.

The crowd roared again with _oohs_ and awes. The thunderous slam my body made was brutal.

"Brianna Brazil is in the fight of her life!"

I could hear the television announcers excitedly calling every move of the match as I rolled around the ring ducking for cover. Laura Grey was no joke. She put every inch and every pound of her 6'1 frame into each blow. The crowd roared as I took jab after jab to the face.

Laura's large hands clasped the sides of my head. _POW!_ She flung me back to the mat with no regard. I blacked out for a moment. I thought I was having a concussion, my eyes burned but it was just the sweat beading in my eyes. As I looked up everything was fuzzy. Slowly the picture came into focus. She was coming at me full force. The crowd yelled as my face met the side of her stiff boots.

_WHACK!_ My neck snapped back as I rolled over from the force of the kick.

I got dizzier and dizzier. My knees bobbled. My back was on fire. I was in so much pain I didn't think I could even lift my arms over my head. There was no way I could defend myself.

I had no idea what had I gotten myself into.

This girl was going to kill me if I didn't do something.

I imagined Yegor looking on along the outside of the ring as he'd done many times in training. I could see his polished black eyes cheering me on. I had to do something.

"Brianna! Get up!"I could hear him command from behind his thick black beard.

I couldn't let him down. Not him of all people. He meant everything to me. My heart ached, my feel wobbled, my arms burned. I climbed back to my feet. I came back at Laura with a thunderous connection of punches and kicks but it wasn't enough. She floored me again with a haymaker, and then set me up for the power bomb.

_SLAM!_ I hit the mat with a force that could one be described as death.

_One... two..._ I kicked out! Laura slapped the canvas again. She couldn't believe it. The crowd was on the edge of their seats. _Could the rookie pull it off?_

She set me up for another power bomb, but it wasn't going to happen tonight. I rolled through and rolled her into an unsuspecting pin. The crowd went crazy, this could be it! _One.. two..._

...she kicked out at 2.9 seconds. I was an eyelash away from beating the undefeated. We hopped back up to our feet.

"SHE'S-GONNA-BEAT-YOU!" the crowd chanted in unison. On the inside, I was smiling harder than I had ever before in life. The feeling was intoxicating.

Laura wildly charged at me. _BAM!_ I hit her with another one of my dropkicks. Laura was knocked back outside the ring. She had enough. The champion grabbed her belt and rolled back into the ring.

_POW!_ She banged me square in the face the with the championship belt. My forehead bounced off the belt's gold plate. The crowd booed her loudly as the referee called for the bell. Laura was disqualified. The undefeated Ladybird had to cheat because the rookie gave her all she could handle.

And like that, Laura Grey's first ever loss came at the hands of Brianna Brazil via disqualification.

I'd made history.

***

I was totally drenched with sweat as I passed through the curtain back to the backstage area. Everyone stopped as I slowly trotted through the sea of people. They all started clapping. The entire company gave me a standing ovation.

"That's right Bri!" I heard April shout out from the crowd.

P pulled me to the side.

"That was amazing. We have a lot of faith in you. Keep proving us right."

He shook my hands then disappeared to yell at someone. I felt someone tap me on the back sternly. It was Laura. She too was spent as she lugged around her belt.

"Good stuff," she said as she gave me a quick handshake and hug before she hit the locker room. I slowly made my way through the sea of people to follow. I couldn't wait to sit down.

Someone tugged me on the shoulder. I was too tired to shake anymore hands but I perked up and turned around. It was Yegor. An elderly white lady in some sort of nun outfit was with him. I thought to myself she must be part of some new gimmick.

"Brianna I want to introduce you to someone," he started. The lady looked at me with a wide genuine smile underneath her wrinkled cracked skin.

"This is Sister Elena. She's one of the ones who raised me. This is one of my mothers."

That's when it all made sense. Yegor wasn't the son of secret spies or anything, he was an orphan raised by nuns. His mother left him on the church steps. There was nothing more to the story. Everything he read on Russia, including teaching himself the language was a way to create an identity. The cold exterior was a defense mechanism. His lack of close relationships was because of the fact he simply did not know how.

The one thing he did know was unconditional love. That's why he was so willing to train me. That's why he saved those kid's lives. It was all he knew from his mother figures, nuns. Somewhere deep behind that beard and underneath those tattoos was a scared orphan boy who simply wanted to spread love.

"Oh joy! This is the one I heard so much about!" Sister Elena said as she leaned to hug me. I hugged her back with what little energy I had left.

"This is Brianna..." Yegor continued.

"...my girlfriend."

FIN

"Please review my book!"

***

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Also by Desean Rambo:

All's Fair in Love and Football Series

Dishonorably Discharged: A Love Story

Migraine

Think Like a Hustler

Available at eBook retailers near you!

or http://www.DeseanRambo.com

