Post by Hayleigh Blake on Oct 13, 2024 17:05:42 GMT
{Mai looks stunned but wastes no time. She pulls Hayleigh to her feet and goes for her signature move, the Flock. She catches Hayleigh perfectly, flipping her into the pinning position.}
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{The crowd erupts as Mai Everstone picks up a hard-fought victory, her energy and aerial ability overcoming Hayleigh’s technical expertise. Hayleigh, while disappointed, acknowledges the effort, showing a sign of respect before rolling out of the ring. Mai celebrates in the ring, soaking in the adoration from the fans, her win a big step forward in her young career.}
”So I lost?”
I shrug.
”What do you want me to do? Quit?”
I shake my head.
”Well I’m sorry to disappoint everyone hoping I’d start an only fans as a supplemental income but I’m not going anywhere.”
“I was born for this.”
“Losses are going to happen. It’s unavoidable. Eventually someone is going to come along who’s better than me. And this early on in my career? It’s probably going to happen a lot.”
“I need to remember that.”
“As good as I think I am. As good as my parents want me to be. I’m only just starting out and I’m learning real fast there’s a huge difference between sparring and an actual match.”
I can only do my best.”
“And sometimes my best isn’t going to be good enough.”
“So my hats off to Mai. You fought a fair fight. You kept the murder in the back and you won. Congratulations are in order.”
I throw my arms up.
”I’n sorry if you were expecting more. I’m sorry if you were expecting me to come out here with excuses. But I don’t have any. If you wrestle long enough, you’re going to lose. That’s something my dad taught me and I need to remember it.”
“Thank god I’ve got a tag partner this week.”
“I’m not sure I could handle another singles match so close to my first professional wrestling loss.”
“Itami.”
“I don’t know you. I’ve never met you. But for this week alone we are partners. I know you don’t want to lose this match. You, like me, want to claw your way to the top. So for this week alone let’s do it together.”
“I trust you.”
“Regardless of what the Winston family throws our way, I trust you. I know that isn’t a common phrase in professional wrestling but I want you to know I’m coming into this as a friend. As a partner. As someone you can trust.”
“I will be there when you need me.”
“I will have four back.”
“I will be the best goddamn tag team partner you’ve ever had.”
“I lost last week.”
“But that loss won’t define me.”
“So for one night only let’s define our future?”
“You and me.”
“Let’s bring the fight to the Winston family and show them what we are made of!”
“Let’s. Fucking. Go.”
[/i]
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3!}
{The crowd erupts as Mai Everstone picks up a hard-fought victory, her energy and aerial ability overcoming Hayleigh’s technical expertise. Hayleigh, while disappointed, acknowledges the effort, showing a sign of respect before rolling out of the ring. Mai celebrates in the ring, soaking in the adoration from the fans, her win a big step forward in her young career.}
A part of me wants to call that loss embarrassing.
A part of me wants to get on social media and shout to the masses how Mai just got lucky and if we ran that back 99 more times I’d win 99 of those matches.
A part of me wants to be a catty bitch.
But.
That part of me is very small. Very quiet. She’s not the part of me that’s in control most of the time. That part of me was tamed the first few dozen times I didn’t win monopoly on family game night.
It wasn’t as fun as you’d expect.
Mai got the better of me. It doesn’t matter how. It doesn’t matter why. It happened. And I’m not going to take that away from her.
I can’t.
She earned that victory. For sure. And I have way more matches in front of me than behind me, like thousands, so it’s really not that tough of a pull to swallow.
Atleast not for me.
“What the fuck was that?”
Yeah, mom isn’t happy.
“I lost?”
“I’m sorry, you didn’t answer the question. Let me say it slower. What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”
I hate when she puts her finger in my face. Probably why she does it so much.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to pinpoint the exact moment you lost control of that match and tell me what you’d change!”
It was an order, not a question.
“I don’t know! I probably should have pressed my advantage more after the German in the corner!”
“Oh, you think so!?”
Her mocking tone was so insulting. I really don’t need this right now.
“If you ever want to amount to anything in this business you need to cut the rookie bullshit! You had Mai dead to rights and instead of going for the kill shot you put on a show? Get your head out of your ass. You only get one shot at greatness!”
Geez mom, sorry for losing my like third real match ever. What an asshole I am…
A part of me wants to get on social media and shout to the masses how Mai just got lucky and if we ran that back 99 more times I’d win 99 of those matches.
A part of me wants to be a catty bitch.
But.
That part of me is very small. Very quiet. She’s not the part of me that’s in control most of the time. That part of me was tamed the first few dozen times I didn’t win monopoly on family game night.
It wasn’t as fun as you’d expect.
Mai got the better of me. It doesn’t matter how. It doesn’t matter why. It happened. And I’m not going to take that away from her.
I can’t.
She earned that victory. For sure. And I have way more matches in front of me than behind me, like thousands, so it’s really not that tough of a pull to swallow.
Atleast not for me.
“What the fuck was that?”
Yeah, mom isn’t happy.
“I lost?”
“I’m sorry, you didn’t answer the question. Let me say it slower. What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”
I hate when she puts her finger in my face. Probably why she does it so much.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to pinpoint the exact moment you lost control of that match and tell me what you’d change!”
It was an order, not a question.
“I don’t know! I probably should have pressed my advantage more after the German in the corner!”
“Oh, you think so!?”
Her mocking tone was so insulting. I really don’t need this right now.
“If you ever want to amount to anything in this business you need to cut the rookie bullshit! You had Mai dead to rights and instead of going for the kill shot you put on a show? Get your head out of your ass. You only get one shot at greatness!”
Geez mom, sorry for losing my like third real match ever. What an asshole I am…
”So I lost?”
I shrug.
”What do you want me to do? Quit?”
I shake my head.
”Well I’m sorry to disappoint everyone hoping I’d start an only fans as a supplemental income but I’m not going anywhere.”
“I was born for this.”
“Losses are going to happen. It’s unavoidable. Eventually someone is going to come along who’s better than me. And this early on in my career? It’s probably going to happen a lot.”
“I need to remember that.”
“As good as I think I am. As good as my parents want me to be. I’m only just starting out and I’m learning real fast there’s a huge difference between sparring and an actual match.”
I can only do my best.”
“And sometimes my best isn’t going to be good enough.”
“So my hats off to Mai. You fought a fair fight. You kept the murder in the back and you won. Congratulations are in order.”
I throw my arms up.
”I’n sorry if you were expecting more. I’m sorry if you were expecting me to come out here with excuses. But I don’t have any. If you wrestle long enough, you’re going to lose. That’s something my dad taught me and I need to remember it.”
“Thank god I’ve got a tag partner this week.”
“I’m not sure I could handle another singles match so close to my first professional wrestling loss.”
“Itami.”
“I don’t know you. I’ve never met you. But for this week alone we are partners. I know you don’t want to lose this match. You, like me, want to claw your way to the top. So for this week alone let’s do it together.”
“I trust you.”
“Regardless of what the Winston family throws our way, I trust you. I know that isn’t a common phrase in professional wrestling but I want you to know I’m coming into this as a friend. As a partner. As someone you can trust.”
“I will be there when you need me.”
“I will have four back.”
“I will be the best goddamn tag team partner you’ve ever had.”
“I lost last week.”
“But that loss won’t define me.”
“So for one night only let’s define our future?”
“You and me.”
“Let’s bring the fight to the Winston family and show them what we are made of!”
“Let’s. Fucking. Go.”
I’m going to be super honest here for a second so excuse me if this gets a little to real for you people at home.
Every kid wants to be accepted by their parents.
Whether they’re good people or they’re bad people you want to feel loved by the ones who birthed you. I know that feels super obvious or whatever but sometimes I feel like it isn’t.
I love professional wrestling.
But if I’m telling the truth, the reason I got into it was to make my parents happy. I don’t think that fact makes it any less true. I love this business and what I do. I love the thrill of the competition. I love getting in there and seeing what I’m made of. I love that my ability to earn a living is entirely based on how I perform in a ring.
I wasn’t made to file paperwork or answer phones or sell people insurance. I couldn’t imagine turning a wrench or sitting a desk or doing anything other than what I’m doing right now.
And I know I have it on easy street. Robert Verona has given me a certain number of days to earn a real contract. After that? I’m out. If I don’t impress the man who signs the checks then my time here is done.
Dad’s name only carry’s so much weight.
I need to prove myself, here or somewhere else. But I’d rather prove myself in the best company in the world.
It would be an honor to take the road my dad took to the top. But it would also be incredible to ascend the way my mom did.
I’m between a rock and a hard place.
The world expects me to just be amazing.
But I’m still just me. Three matches deep into my first professional wrestling contract and it just so happens to be with the premier league in the world.
There’s no room for error.
According to mom.
But I guess that’s why we have dads.
“Why are you crying?”
He asks to be polite but he knows.
“Mom’s mad”
“Hmm”
He nods his head. He knows. He’s been there.
“I lost when I could’ve won. I know I could’ve.”
“I know you could’ve too. Next time you will.”
I look at him. I mean I really look at him. I see behind the paint and the visage and all the scary bullshit. I see the tortured man beneath it all and what grandpa did to him and for the first time I start to understand. I start to finally get why he is the way he is. He grew up in a house of pain. He hurts people so they can’t hurt him. Until he found true love. A true family.
But as quickly as the realization hits I remember my mothers disappointment.
“I let her down.”
“Success isn’t measured in inches but in miles.”
He runs his fingers through my hair like he did when I was little. It’s comforting.
“Take your time. Enjoy yourself. Experience every moment. If you live too fast, too hard, you’ll be at the end of your career without ever knowing you had one.”
He looks away as he says that last sentence. And I want to understand. But I need to please her to. I can’t fail her. I can’t.
I can’t.
Every kid wants to be accepted by their parents.
Whether they’re good people or they’re bad people you want to feel loved by the ones who birthed you. I know that feels super obvious or whatever but sometimes I feel like it isn’t.
I love professional wrestling.
But if I’m telling the truth, the reason I got into it was to make my parents happy. I don’t think that fact makes it any less true. I love this business and what I do. I love the thrill of the competition. I love getting in there and seeing what I’m made of. I love that my ability to earn a living is entirely based on how I perform in a ring.
I wasn’t made to file paperwork or answer phones or sell people insurance. I couldn’t imagine turning a wrench or sitting a desk or doing anything other than what I’m doing right now.
And I know I have it on easy street. Robert Verona has given me a certain number of days to earn a real contract. After that? I’m out. If I don’t impress the man who signs the checks then my time here is done.
Dad’s name only carry’s so much weight.
I need to prove myself, here or somewhere else. But I’d rather prove myself in the best company in the world.
It would be an honor to take the road my dad took to the top. But it would also be incredible to ascend the way my mom did.
I’m between a rock and a hard place.
The world expects me to just be amazing.
But I’m still just me. Three matches deep into my first professional wrestling contract and it just so happens to be with the premier league in the world.
There’s no room for error.
According to mom.
But I guess that’s why we have dads.
“Why are you crying?”
He asks to be polite but he knows.
“Mom’s mad”
“Hmm”
He nods his head. He knows. He’s been there.
“I lost when I could’ve won. I know I could’ve.”
“I know you could’ve too. Next time you will.”
I look at him. I mean I really look at him. I see behind the paint and the visage and all the scary bullshit. I see the tortured man beneath it all and what grandpa did to him and for the first time I start to understand. I start to finally get why he is the way he is. He grew up in a house of pain. He hurts people so they can’t hurt him. Until he found true love. A true family.
But as quickly as the realization hits I remember my mothers disappointment.
“I let her down.”
“Success isn’t measured in inches but in miles.”
He runs his fingers through my hair like he did when I was little. It’s comforting.
“Take your time. Enjoy yourself. Experience every moment. If you live too fast, too hard, you’ll be at the end of your career without ever knowing you had one.”
He looks away as he says that last sentence. And I want to understand. But I need to please her to. I can’t fail her. I can’t.
I can’t.
Well howdy there pardner.