Lennon Armada
Posts : 4
Join date : 2024-03-20
 |  Subject: Game Over.  Sat Apr 13, 2024 8:56 pm | |
| 
She pressed her index and middle finger to her plumped lips and kissed them gently. Then she pressed them tight against a framed picture before she set it back down on the dresser. She smiled softly to herself.
“Miss you, Will,” She said quietly under her breath. The picture was of her older brother, Will, who died tragically in a motorcycle accident years ago. The very person all of this was for. Finally, after signing with PCW, Lennon finally had a ticket out. She had been living under the roof of her aunt and uncle’s home since her parents died when she was just nine years old. But now, it was time for her to move out on her own and focus on her goals…
No. Her career.
As she finished packing up, her uncle Samuel slowly stepped foot into the empty bedroom. He watched as she admired the photo of her brother and quietly observed her. Samuel was a professional wrestler back in the 70’s and 80’s, and though she wouldn’t ever call herself a “generational wrestler”, it was somewhat in her blood.
“You’re gonna be great, kid,” Samuel quipped as he leaned up against the door frame, a proud smile plastered across his weathered face.
Lennon simply smiled and nodded her head. “Yeah, I am.”
“And that man right there,” Sam points to the framed photo of Will, “He’s going to be looking down on you every second you’re in that ring. And he’s going to be so damn proud of you.”
He paused for a moment as he watched her gaze fall to her feet, suddenly stricken with the realization that even though he wasn’t here in the flesh, she was still unbelievably petrified of letting him down. Samuel saw this, and without hesitation, walked over to his niece and wraps her in a comforting embrace.
“Everybody is going to be so damn proud of you,” He hinted at he and his wife, Mona, Lennon’s aunt. “No matter what happens. But PCW is a good home for you. Alan and I are old friends. I could tell by the look in his eye at Vendetta that he knew he signed a star. Somebody that was going to make waves in PCW. There was a sparkle I haven’t seen in years.”
Who knew if that was true, but it made the nervous pit in Lennon’s stomach calmer all the same. They hear the sounds of a large truck pull up outside the home and they both look out the window to see the moving company getting ready to take Lennon’s belongings away to her new, cozy apartment.
“Time to go, kid. You ready?”
Lennon took one last look at her old bedroom before snatching the framed photo off of the dresser. She flips it over just to slip Will’s picture out of the back. She folds it in half lightly and tucks it into the pocket of her jacket, right next to her heart. She looks up at her uncle with a faint, but confident smile.
“Ready.”
///
“I know what you’re all thinking.
Prestige Championship Wrestling is home to some top tier athletes. Wrestlers. People who have worked tirelessly, carved their bodies from stone just to fully realize their dreams. Giant, overwhelming adonis’, salivating at the mouth to rip each other apart. Blazing testosterone. Vicious, stone cold killers.
So what exactly is my five-foot-nothing, pocket-sized ass doing here amongst all of them? How am I going to survive? How am I going to keep my head above water? How long will it take until I realize I’ve bitten off more than I can chew and run far away with my tail tucked between my tiny, slender legs?
Truthfully? I don’t know.
But it’s not in my blood to stop me from trying. There are people on this earth, and people who are not, who need to see me succeed. This was my brother’s dream long before it was mine. I have no other choice but to succeed. To thrive. To swim. And to force every single person in that locker room, no matter what size, to see me as the threat they’ll eventually come to realize that I am.
It begins with TJ Alexander. Before those cameras hit and I signed pen to paper, I made sure Alan knew I didn’t want an easy start. Throw me to the wolves. Obviously he heard me loud and clear because he gave me the sneakiest little weasel in his locker room. The man who snakes his way into matches. The man who uses tactics when he can’t rely on talent. And where has that gotten him so far, besides eliminated second from the Chamber of Valor at Vendetta? You showed your cards to me early, TJ. You’ll do just about anything you can to get where you want, but you don’t have the ability to stay there. Vendetta was solid proof.
I know you probably think you have it easy this week. You think that after a string of losses you’re being thrown a bone because you never thought you’d be on the opposite side of the ring as somebody so tiny. So breakable. But at Triumph, you’re going to continue to be the laughing stock of PCW. I can’t let my first match in my entire career be a disappointment to my entire family, or to me. I am not going to be the salve for your ego.
And with your body already battered and bruised from the chamber, I have just that little advantage I need to take down somebody so much larger than me. You’re weakened. And I’m not above capitalizing on that because I can’t afford to lose. They might call you the Game Changer, but you’re about to see a Player 2 you never thought you needed to prepare for.
Game over.” | |
|
