Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2019 22:22:02 GMT -5
December 23rd
9:30 AM
Studio12 in Downtown LA
9:30 AM
Studio12 in Downtown LA
Mesh enters the industrial studio home of the Funks & Monks; LA’s premier dance troupe that’s won the National Championship twice. Along the walls are various WFWF posters; not surprisingly they’re all shows Mesh was on. The latest addition to the wall is the SNAFU poster. Painted on each wall in giant white letters – Live. Love. Dance.
Some of the dancers, all clad in bright and colorful tanktops stretch their limbs as far as they can go in front of the large mirror that spans from one side of the wall to the other. Off to the side, a few other dancers, all dressed in their Sunday’s best are gossiping and sharing posts from social media to each other. A few of them give the Vanguard Champion props as she approaches them.
“You kicked ass, girl!”
“Great job, Mel!”
“Don’t worry about the Panther chick, you got this!”
She walks past her fellow dancers and heads towards the far end of the studio in the back where the locker room is. It’s a small room, with twelve lockers side-by-side against a brick wall. The exterior of her locker is the same as everyone else’s, but the interior really has that Mesh touch – dozens of pictures from her past, goofy stickers and song lyrics written in black sharpie. She smiles at the few pictures she has of Kat during their tag-team days, feeling more and more nostalgic over those days. She takes off her street clothes and slides into her dance clothes – neon blue tanktop with black baggy sweats.
She leaves the locker room, carrying a small gift bag and makes her way towards the middle of the dance floor until her dance teacher approaches her, wearing a similar outfit to Mesh minus the blue tanktop – hers is orange, complementing her dark skin.
“How are you doing today, Mellytimber?” the dance instructor asks, referring to Mesh by her dance name; a play on the medieval word for food, “Congratulations on your big win, by the way!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kathy! I’m doing okay, what about you? How’s Dee?”
The dance instructor smiles at the mention of her only daughter and another member of the Good Vibe Tribe, Denise.
“She’s doing great, thank you. She’s on her winter break right now so I have her the week.”
Mesh smiles.
“That’s cool, I bet she’s excited for Christmas Eve tomorrow.”
“Oh, she is! My parents and siblings are all coming over, you know – like they always do.”
“Sounds nice!”
“Yeah, it is. What about you and your mother?”
“We don’t really have a big party or exchange gifts or whatever, we go to Denny’s for breakfast and…that’s pretty much it,” Mesh says until her eyes grow wide, “Oh! Speaking of gifts…”
The Vanguard Champion hands Kathy the holiday themed gift bag with green and red pompoms glued in an elaborate pattern.
“This is for Dee.”
Kathy sorta gapes as she pulls the bag closer towards her. It has some weight to it, so the two women walk over to Kathy’s desk by the door. The rustling of the gift tissues creates a sort of feeling of anticipation.
She reaches inside and immediately; the dance teacher knows what it is by her reaction.
“Melanie!”
“You told me about Dee thinking the Vanguard Championship looking cool after London, so I went ahead a got her a little one. I hope that’s okay?”
Kathy looks at the mini replica Vanguard Championship in awe.
“She’s going to love it! Thank you so much!”
The dance teacher hugs Mesh.
“You’re welcome! I love that kid.”
Kathy turns around and sets the belt on her desk.
“I also have an announcement I’d like to make, if that’s okay with you.”
“Of course!”
The champion suddenly turns and faces the rest of her dance crew, all doing their own thing, “Hey everyone!”
That results in everyone else to respond back with a greeting of their own.
“I have a bit of an announcement to make. The next show for the WFWF is at The Staples Center,” she pauses, the small studio causing Mesh’s voice to echo, “And it would mean so much to me if all the Funks and Monks were there."
The studio is quiet as Kathy walks behind Mesh and puts her arm around her.
“You know Dee and I will be there, Melly.”
Immediately Apple Thompson, a fellow dancer that’s been with the troupe just as long as Mesh has, yelps, “I’d love to go!”
Lexi, otherwise known as Trixxie follows suit, “Hell yeah boo!”
An amalgamation of different voices all respond at once, a bit difficult to understand but in the end, they all say the same thing – yes, yes and yes.
Mesh puts her hands together, “Thank you all so, so much! It means the world to me!”
From her hand, she unwinds a rubber band, binding the tickets for WFWF Resolution that bears the face of her opponent and hands them out like candy to her dance buddies.
“You got us front row seats?”
“Oops, I left that part out!” she responds, making a face as she hands out tickets. There is faint murmur within the group once the revelation is out of the bag.
The last person to get her tickets is Kathy.
“Here’s one for you and one for Dee.”
“Thanks again, Mel. I really appreciate you doing all this for Dee.”
“I hope she has a good time!”
“Oh, she will, trust me! She’s talked about wanting to come to a show since the one in Philly – your first one, right?”
Mesh simply smiles at her teacher as she jogs back to the locker room and puts the last two tickets in her bag.
***
December 25th
10:00 AM
15 Freeway; Los Angeles, CA
“Imagine if Gramma Kari was still here, she wouldn’t believe that I beat Penny,” Mesh says with a somber tone, “I miss her so much.”
Mama Bear sorta frowns, glancing over at her daughter. She scrolls through her phone at what appears to be nothing. The mindless running of her fingers eases the painful thoughts of her grandmother as she watched her wrestling buddy take her last breath when she was 17.
“Can’t believe it’s been six years…” she reminisces, “It still hurts knowing that she died after I started training.”
“I don’t know about you…but I think we shouldn’t go to Denny’s anymore,” Mesh says as she stops and turns her head, looking out the window. “Gramma is all I think about when we go there every year.”
“Yeah, me too,” her mother says. “Besides, you’re vegan now. They have like, nothing on the menu for you!”
Mesh laughs, covering her mouth as to not snort. Mama Bear smiles.
“I would’ve loved bringing her to the Staples Center to see me wrestle, but I know she would’ve said no. She would've preferred her recliner.”
They both laugh.
“She’ll be there with you, sweetie.”
“I know she would be so proud of you,” Mama Bear responds, placing her right hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “I’m proud of you. You know how much I was against you getting into the wrestling…world,”
Mesh suddenly gets the inclination to look up from her phone and at her mother who the turns to face her.
“Lately it’s dawned on me that wrestling was what you were meant to do.”
Mesh simply smiles.
“You’re still dancing – that’s great but wrestling is your true love, I see it in your eyes. If that’s what makes you happy, then it makes me happy as well.”
Her mother’s maroon Nissan Altima changes lanes, driving onto a bridge that oversees the entire Los Angeles Mall which best resembles a ghost town. Aside from a few cars which probably are the custodial staff there isn’t a car in sight. Now would be the perfect time for Mesh to accomplish one of her biggest goals in life: to play hide-and-seek in an empty mall.
Especially at Ikea.
As the car zooms past the curved bridge, the song “Over My Head” starts playing on the radio. For some reason, the words resonate with her. She can feel the words coming from the speaker.
There's always static on TV in this hotel room
Reminds me of all the things you think I don't understand
It seems like you and me, we keep losing connection
Whenever you talk to me, it doesn't make any sense
Don't know what you meant, it's always over my head
Yeah, over my head
Yeah, it's so
Over my head, over my head, over my head
Over my head, over my head, over my head
Is it too late, too far gone to fix this
Over my head, over my head, over my head
Over my head
Over my head
You take the simplest thing and always complicate it
Talking in circles, got me dizzy like a merry go round
It shouldn't be so hard to have a conversation
I'm sick of fighting with your ego, I wish you would admit
But I don't understand, it's always over my head
Yeah, over my head
Yeah, it's so…
The rest of the song just seems to fade away, but the chorus keeps playing over and over in her brain, like a broken record as it gets louder and louder.
Over my head
Over my head
Over my head
Over my head
She thinks back to Breakout where she wrestled Frank Lynn, arguably the biggest match of her career at that point – the show where everything began with Daphne.
Daphne suddenly starts shouting foul language at Mesh from the outside. Another knife edge chop from Mesh! From the corner, Mesh slams Frank down with a snap suplex! With Frank down, Mesh runs the ropes and dropkicks Frank in the ribs! He rolls out of the ring, Daphne is hot pursuit to check on him. Seeing the opportunity, Mesh bounces off the ropes and dives over the third rope with a suicide dive – crashing into Frank as he shoves Daphne out of harm’s way! Frank’s back hits the guard rail! The crowd cheers!
“Mesh with a high-risk maneuver there! Gotta respect the fact that Frank pushed Daphne, so she wouldn’t get hurt!” shouts Alecia Matthews into her headset, nearly leaping out of her chair.
Both competitors are down, Daphne shouting at Frank to move. Mesh comes to first and Daphne spews vile insults at her at the top of her lungs.
“Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!”
That line echoes in her head. As the family car zooms past traffic, she can still hear that line in her head.
10:00 AM
15 Freeway; Los Angeles, CA
“Imagine if Gramma Kari was still here, she wouldn’t believe that I beat Penny,” Mesh says with a somber tone, “I miss her so much.”
Mama Bear sorta frowns, glancing over at her daughter. She scrolls through her phone at what appears to be nothing. The mindless running of her fingers eases the painful thoughts of her grandmother as she watched her wrestling buddy take her last breath when she was 17.
“Can’t believe it’s been six years…” she reminisces, “It still hurts knowing that she died after I started training.”
“I don’t know about you…but I think we shouldn’t go to Denny’s anymore,” Mesh says as she stops and turns her head, looking out the window. “Gramma is all I think about when we go there every year.”
“Yeah, me too,” her mother says. “Besides, you’re vegan now. They have like, nothing on the menu for you!”
Mesh laughs, covering her mouth as to not snort. Mama Bear smiles.
“I would’ve loved bringing her to the Staples Center to see me wrestle, but I know she would’ve said no. She would've preferred her recliner.”
They both laugh.
“She’ll be there with you, sweetie.”
“I know she would be so proud of you,” Mama Bear responds, placing her right hand on her daughter’s shoulder, “I’m proud of you. You know how much I was against you getting into the wrestling…world,”
Mesh suddenly gets the inclination to look up from her phone and at her mother who the turns to face her.
“Lately it’s dawned on me that wrestling was what you were meant to do.”
Mesh simply smiles.
“You’re still dancing – that’s great but wrestling is your true love, I see it in your eyes. If that’s what makes you happy, then it makes me happy as well.”
Her mother’s maroon Nissan Altima changes lanes, driving onto a bridge that oversees the entire Los Angeles Mall which best resembles a ghost town. Aside from a few cars which probably are the custodial staff there isn’t a car in sight. Now would be the perfect time for Mesh to accomplish one of her biggest goals in life: to play hide-and-seek in an empty mall.
Especially at Ikea.
As the car zooms past the curved bridge, the song “Over My Head” starts playing on the radio. For some reason, the words resonate with her. She can feel the words coming from the speaker.
There's always static on TV in this hotel room
Reminds me of all the things you think I don't understand
It seems like you and me, we keep losing connection
Whenever you talk to me, it doesn't make any sense
Don't know what you meant, it's always over my head
Yeah, over my head
Yeah, it's so
Over my head, over my head, over my head
Over my head, over my head, over my head
Is it too late, too far gone to fix this
Over my head, over my head, over my head
Over my head
Over my head
You take the simplest thing and always complicate it
Talking in circles, got me dizzy like a merry go round
It shouldn't be so hard to have a conversation
I'm sick of fighting with your ego, I wish you would admit
But I don't understand, it's always over my head
Yeah, over my head
Yeah, it's so…
The rest of the song just seems to fade away, but the chorus keeps playing over and over in her brain, like a broken record as it gets louder and louder.
Over my head
Over my head
Over my head
Over my head
She thinks back to Breakout where she wrestled Frank Lynn, arguably the biggest match of her career at that point – the show where everything began with Daphne.
Daphne suddenly starts shouting foul language at Mesh from the outside. Another knife edge chop from Mesh! From the corner, Mesh slams Frank down with a snap suplex! With Frank down, Mesh runs the ropes and dropkicks Frank in the ribs! He rolls out of the ring, Daphne is hot pursuit to check on him. Seeing the opportunity, Mesh bounces off the ropes and dives over the third rope with a suicide dive – crashing into Frank as he shoves Daphne out of harm’s way! Frank’s back hits the guard rail! The crowd cheers!
“Mesh with a high-risk maneuver there! Gotta respect the fact that Frank pushed Daphne, so she wouldn’t get hurt!” shouts Alecia Matthews into her headset, nearly leaping out of her chair.
Both competitors are down, Daphne shouting at Frank to move. Mesh comes to first and Daphne spews vile insults at her at the top of her lungs.
“Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!”
That line echoes in her head. As the family car zooms past traffic, she can still hear that line in her head.
“Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!”
Mesh closes her eyes as a slight pain in her chest begins to emerge. That, combined with the repeated line of the song playing causes her to winch.
It's all combined now, the verse from the song and Daphne's insult are both playing at once. Mesh continues to winch, hoping it goes away before her head explodes but it doesn't. It only gets louder and louder. Her knuckle turn white as she grabs onto the door handle for dear life, she makes a fist in her other hand, her arm starts to slightly shake.
It's becoming too much for.
She can't take it anymore.
Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!
Over my Head
Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!
Over my Head
Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!
Over my Head
Estúpida chica de pelo azul! Espero que te mueras!
Over my Head
She gets the urge to scream, maybe that will make it stop until suddenly, the voice of her mother takes over and that’s all Mesh hears. It's dead quiet, the noises have gone away as confirmed by the radio joccey making a bad joke.
“Whatever happens at Staples Center, I know everyone will be proud of you, especially Gramma Kari.”
Once she realizes that she's okay, she smiles, taking a few deep breaths.
“Thanks, mom.”
Her mother smiles back.
“Is Kat coming to the show?”
That’s the million-dollar question that even Mesh herself doesn’t have the answer to.
“That’s a good question,” she says, followed by a laugh, “I have no idea.”
“Does she still watch wrestling or -?”
“She doesn’t. She just watches my matches and that’s it. I doubt she’ll want to stay for the whole show.”
“She’s your best friend, she’ll say yes just for you.”
Mesh turns and looks out the window again as a glimmer of hope sparks inside her brain.
***
January 4th
5:30 PM
The Butcher Shop; Los Angeles, CA
“It pretty much looks the same.”
“Well, it’s like the saying – if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Mesh scoffs in agreement as the older man in front of her opens the creaky door to a beat-up gym, the smell of sweat and jockstraps smacking her across the face like a cheapshot. The warm heat from the outside suddenly turns to mist as the gym is fairly chilly but luckily for her, it’s been fairly cold lately so she has a warm hoody on.
“I see the heater was never fixed.”
The bald man just grunts, followed by a chuckle.
“We’re having sessions right now, you know the benefits of training in cold temperatures.”
The old mantra suddenly comes back to Mesh: You burn more calories that way!
Right in the middle of the gym is a wrestling ring where two potential wrestlers are locking up with good form as the mat crashing like a cymbal with every stomp. Near the back of the gym is a small cage, where two strikers are sparring. The smacking of the pad from the punches sound like shotgun blasts, words of motivation from the coaches are almost as loud as the hip hop that’s blaring through the brand-new speakers.
Thuds and groans from bodies being tossed around the mats are just some of the noises that are heard inside The Butcher Shop, run by former MMA fighter and acclaimed trainer, Dennis Cleaver. As soon as the bright energy from the champion permeates the room, the two wrestlers in the ring stop.
“Whoa. It’s Mesh!”
She simply waves at the aspiring wrestlers while some of the newer trainees watch in awe.
“You’re probably my most famous trainee, you know?” the bald man says, before turning his head and shouts at his students, “Because Mesh here never complained, and I was twice as hard on her than I am with you dummies!”
Of course, Mesh finds that hard to believe, as she follows her trainer to the back office. Plastered all along the walls are vintage wrestling posters and pictures of Cleaver with some of his trainees including Mesh.
“Whatever happens at Staples Center, I know everyone will be proud of you, especially Gramma Kari.”
Once she realizes that she's okay, she smiles, taking a few deep breaths.
“Thanks, mom.”
Her mother smiles back.
“Is Kat coming to the show?”
That’s the million-dollar question that even Mesh herself doesn’t have the answer to.
“That’s a good question,” she says, followed by a laugh, “I have no idea.”
“Does she still watch wrestling or -?”
“She doesn’t. She just watches my matches and that’s it. I doubt she’ll want to stay for the whole show.”
“She’s your best friend, she’ll say yes just for you.”
Mesh turns and looks out the window again as a glimmer of hope sparks inside her brain.
***
January 4th
5:30 PM
The Butcher Shop; Los Angeles, CA
“It pretty much looks the same.”
“Well, it’s like the saying – if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Mesh scoffs in agreement as the older man in front of her opens the creaky door to a beat-up gym, the smell of sweat and jockstraps smacking her across the face like a cheapshot. The warm heat from the outside suddenly turns to mist as the gym is fairly chilly but luckily for her, it’s been fairly cold lately so she has a warm hoody on.
“I see the heater was never fixed.”
The bald man just grunts, followed by a chuckle.
“We’re having sessions right now, you know the benefits of training in cold temperatures.”
The old mantra suddenly comes back to Mesh: You burn more calories that way!
Right in the middle of the gym is a wrestling ring where two potential wrestlers are locking up with good form as the mat crashing like a cymbal with every stomp. Near the back of the gym is a small cage, where two strikers are sparring. The smacking of the pad from the punches sound like shotgun blasts, words of motivation from the coaches are almost as loud as the hip hop that’s blaring through the brand-new speakers.
Thuds and groans from bodies being tossed around the mats are just some of the noises that are heard inside The Butcher Shop, run by former MMA fighter and acclaimed trainer, Dennis Cleaver. As soon as the bright energy from the champion permeates the room, the two wrestlers in the ring stop.
“Whoa. It’s Mesh!”
She simply waves at the aspiring wrestlers while some of the newer trainees watch in awe.
“You’re probably my most famous trainee, you know?” the bald man says, before turning his head and shouts at his students, “Because Mesh here never complained, and I was twice as hard on her than I am with you dummies!”
Of course, Mesh finds that hard to believe, as she follows her trainer to the back office. Plastered all along the walls are vintage wrestling posters and pictures of Cleaver with some of his trainees including Mesh.
The picture is dated 2012 and a fresh out of high school and pudgy, Mesh stands on the tip of her shoes to look as tall as the rest of her training team, which were all men. She remembers how the sun was right on her face when the photo was taken thus causing her to slightly close her eyes, looking like a total goofball. She smiles as she remembers those that were there with her when she first started; Ronnie, Edgelord, Pain Train, JJ, Kyle Lepsey, Phillip and The Kruger Brothers.
“You guys were a handful, you know?” Mesh turns around and sees her trainer, leaning back in his old squeaky office chair, “You were all good kids though. Never complained once.”
The Vanguard Champion smirks, taking a seat on one of the folding chairs in front of Cleaver’s desk which is a disorganized mess, cluttered with papers.
“Because we knew better. If we did complain, it was off to The Freezer…”
The veteran chuckles.
“Would you want to be locked in a freezer that -17 degrees with water spraying on you for half an hour?”
Cleaver says that with such sadistic joy in his voice but Mesh laughs.
“Does that still work? The whole mentally destroying a young wrestler thing?”
The once serious trainer leans forward in his chair and his demeanor suddenly changes.
“Of course! They act so surprised when I tell them that there never was a freezer, that was just how I kept them motivated.”
A cruel joke indeed but Mesh can’t help but laugh.
“It’s certainly nice to see you again.”
“You too, Mel. I’m really proud of you, you’ve done a lot in the business and proved a lot of people wrong, me included.”
“You know, I never heard any of that until I joined the WFWF.”
“Because they are the big dogs. You’re a fan, you know the kind of company they are – it’s always been serious and some of people there….I don’t know how they find such degenerates and reprobates.”
The trainer then looks at Mesh, dead in the eyes.
“Then you come along, who’s the complete opposite of everyone there and nobody knows how to react.”
“I’ve heard that a lot too,” she says, leaning forward in her chair, “But to be honest, I just want the respect from everyone there. I want to be taken serious.”
“Well, that's going to take a while. You have to get some impressive wins under your belt. Aside from Penny Shannon, you haven't really beat anyone with any name value. No offense.”
Cleaver hasn’t lost his bluntness, even in his older age.
“The one time you had that chance, you lost but you lost to The Lethal Weapon."
Mesh looks around his office and glances over the dozens of pictures Cleaver has with MMA fighters and a framed old championship belt.
"He ain't someone that's going to just lay down for you. You hung in there with him and you certainly impressed a lot of people! Just keep doing what you're doing and you'll get that respect."
He clears his throat.
"I would stop marking out so much when you wrestle someone that you admire, though."
Mesh feels like she’s heard the same diatribe before but she knows that what he’s saying is true.
It was true when Kat said it and it was true when Frank said it.
“You know, you’re right. That’s all Frank says to me and that’s certainly what Kat tells me all the time.”
“You mean…Katharsis? The one that’s been blackballed from the business?”
Mesh nods.
The trainer leans back in his chair, “You’re a good kid but I never understood why you teamed with her for so long. I heard she always had an attitude backstage.”
“Not really, she just-“
“Somebody that does what she did doesn’t belong in this business!”
The Vanguard Champion feels uncomfortable now.
“I know she’s your dear friend, but when you’re in this business you have to be professional and what she did – wasn’t.”
She bites her lip but soldiers on, mumbling under her breath, quickly changing the subject.
“I just came down here to invite you to the show at The Staples Center. I would appreciate it greatly if you could come.”
She reaches her in her pocket and hands Cleaver one of the last two tickets. He examines the ticket.
“I’ll be there, Mel. Just answer me this," he leans in, “You ready for your match against Velasquez?”
“I think so.”
He turns his head to the side, "I don't believe you."
Awkward.
"How have you prepared for your match?"
"I...uhh..."
The trainer chuckles, "How about this? You go out there and give a little speech to my students and in return, I'll show you a couple of things you might need in your match."
Mesh just looks at her trainer, still seated.
"Velasquez is tough so you'll need to learn a few things if you really want to make a statement."
Without thinking, Mesh agrees.
Cleaver gets up from his squeaky office chair and holds the door open for his student.
“It's funny that you're here for a quick seminar because remember the time she gave you kids one?”
“Of course, how could I ever forget?”
***
January 19th
11:34 PM
Kat’s apartment; Rohnert Park, CA
“So, she just…randomly came up to you backstage?”
“Yup.”
“That’s not sketchy at all!”
Mesh giggles as the sarcastic and deadpan Kat does small chores around her apartment as her blue haired bestie watches from the small couch in the living room. She cranks Paranoid Opioid through her speakers, Kat faintly humming along to the riff.
“And you’ve never met her before?”
“Nope. I have heard of her though.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yup. Her dad is a WFWF legend. He’s a former WFWF World Heavyweight Champion.”
Kat simply nods.
“I’d be careful with her if I were you.”
“I know. It’s weird, like – I believed everything she told me, but I didn’t at the same time.
“What do you mean?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
“She’s so convinced that Frank is going to try and screw me over –“
Kat pokes her head out from behind the kitchen wall, it's almost comical, “You think he’d do that?”
Without hesitation, Mesh blurts out, “Not at all.”
She sounds very confident right about now, “I know Frank has done bad things in his past but…he’s changed.”
“People never change, dude.”
“You don’t know Frank. I trust him.”
Kat breaths under her nose and just shrugs it off.
“Just saying – if does anything to you –“
“He won’t.”
The redhead doesn’t say anything, hoping that Mesh is right.
“What about Anna? You don’t think she has something up her sleeve?”
“I don’t know – maybe. Probably not.”
Kat then comes out from behind the wall and sits next to Mesh on the couch, “That’s three different answers, dude. Which one is it?”
Mesh bites her lip, “I don’t see what she gets out of screwing me over.”
“Besides embarrassing you? The first ever Vanguard Champion? On what’s sure to be the biggest match of your career?”
Mesh doesn’t say anything, her eyes glued to the floor.
January 19th
11:34 PM
Kat’s apartment; Rohnert Park, CA
“So, she just…randomly came up to you backstage?”
“Yup.”
“That’s not sketchy at all!”
Mesh giggles as the sarcastic and deadpan Kat does small chores around her apartment as her blue haired bestie watches from the small couch in the living room. She cranks Paranoid Opioid through her speakers, Kat faintly humming along to the riff.
“And you’ve never met her before?”
“Nope. I have heard of her though.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yup. Her dad is a WFWF legend. He’s a former WFWF World Heavyweight Champion.”
Kat simply nods.
“I’d be careful with her if I were you.”
“I know. It’s weird, like – I believed everything she told me, but I didn’t at the same time.
“What do you mean?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
“She’s so convinced that Frank is going to try and screw me over –“
Kat pokes her head out from behind the kitchen wall, it's almost comical, “You think he’d do that?”
Without hesitation, Mesh blurts out, “Not at all.”
She sounds very confident right about now, “I know Frank has done bad things in his past but…he’s changed.”
“People never change, dude.”
“You don’t know Frank. I trust him.”
Kat breaths under her nose and just shrugs it off.
“Just saying – if does anything to you –“
“He won’t.”
The redhead doesn’t say anything, hoping that Mesh is right.
“What about Anna? You don’t think she has something up her sleeve?”
“I don’t know – maybe. Probably not.”
Kat then comes out from behind the wall and sits next to Mesh on the couch, “That’s three different answers, dude. Which one is it?”
Mesh bites her lip, “I don’t see what she gets out of screwing me over.”
“Besides embarrassing you? The first ever Vanguard Champion? On what’s sure to be the biggest match of your career?”
Mesh doesn’t say anything, her eyes glued to the floor.
"This Anna b***h is smart - she knows you're vulnerable and super trusting so she's using that to her advantage."
"You really think that?"
"Bet your ass I do."
Kat is about to go full promo mode.
“This show is your moment. Don’t let Frank or Anna or anyone take it from you!”
“I know, I know.”
“You say that all the time though.”
She’s right, you know? Kat isn't letting her off the hook that easy.
“I know how happy you were to wrestle Penny but there has to be a point when simply wrestling someone isn't enough – and now is that time.”
“Shut that b***h up.”
“What if I lose?" The Vanguard Champion asks, throwing her hands in the air, "What if I do all this..and still lose. Then what?”
Kat scoffs, “Then you get up, dust yourself off and try again.”
“It’s going to suck balls if you lose but you’re f***ing Mesh! You’ll bounce back.”
The Vanguard Champion can’t help but smile.
“Thank you.”
“Make her feel every name she ever called you, make her eat s*** for the times she talked s*** on Twitter.”
Kat pats Mesh on the shoulder, “You can do this.”
“I appreciate it.”
Kat just looks at Mesh and nods. The two woman just relax on the couch as Cawthra then starts playing through Kat's speakers. Both women mouth the lyrics of the song, Mesh slowly dancing along to the song. Once the song picks up, both woman stand up on Kat's couch and sing the song to each other.
Enter the chrous, a wailing Whoaaaaaaaaohhhhhhhhhhhh!
Both Kat and Mesh, at the top of their lungs mimic what they're hearing!
They dance and sing and bop and weave until the song just ends - Mesh starts to laugh hysterically.
"F**king love that song! Melkbelly rules!"
"Remember that when we saw them in that bar where they didn't allow moshing?"
"I remember breaking that guy's nose - you know, the one that decided to grope you. That, I remember like it was yesterday!"
Mesh laughs again.
Realizing that Kat is feeling good, Mesh goes in to ask the million dollar question.
“Soooooo….the next show is at The Staples Center and umm…”
“And you want me to go?”
“Nothing would make me happier – well, proving Daphne wrong will make me happy but having you there with my mom, my trainer and my dance buddies will make me more than happy!”
“Being more than happy isn’t healthy, dude. I’d go get that checked out.”
Mesh giggles, Kat sighs.
“It’ll be fun! Maybe some of the fans there will recognize you! Please?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the redhead says, almost with a tone of hesitation in her voice, “After what happened at the park with the homewrecker, that’s enough attention.”
Not giving up so easily, Mesh pulls out the last remaining ticket and hands it over to her best friend.
Kat looks at it, quietly reading the information on the ticket.
“That’s Daphne?”
Mesh nods, holding her breath under her nose.
“You know more than anyone why I don’t really care about wrestling anymore,” she starts, her eyes still locked onto the ticket, “And you know that ship has pretty much sailed and it was shot down, burned and sunk the day I left the AWF.”
Her blue haired friend looks down, followed by a sigh.
“But if I have to sit around obnoxious people for hours just to watch you kick some b****es ass and see you have your moment then I’ll go.”
Mesh’s eyes light up, like they tend to do when she’s really excited.
“Really?”
Kat scoffs and cracks a smile, alebit microscopic. She nods.
Mesh squeals, flailing her arms as she lunges towards her best friend.
“You’re the best! I love you!”
“Soooooo….the next show is at The Staples Center and umm…”
“And you want me to go?”
“Nothing would make me happier – well, proving Daphne wrong will make me happy but having you there with my mom, my trainer and my dance buddies will make me more than happy!”
“Being more than happy isn’t healthy, dude. I’d go get that checked out.”
Mesh giggles, Kat sighs.
“It’ll be fun! Maybe some of the fans there will recognize you! Please?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the redhead says, almost with a tone of hesitation in her voice, “After what happened at the park with the homewrecker, that’s enough attention.”
Not giving up so easily, Mesh pulls out the last remaining ticket and hands it over to her best friend.
Kat looks at it, quietly reading the information on the ticket.
“That’s Daphne?”
Mesh nods, holding her breath under her nose.
“You know more than anyone why I don’t really care about wrestling anymore,” she starts, her eyes still locked onto the ticket, “And you know that ship has pretty much sailed and it was shot down, burned and sunk the day I left the AWF.”
Her blue haired friend looks down, followed by a sigh.
“But if I have to sit around obnoxious people for hours just to watch you kick some b****es ass and see you have your moment then I’ll go.”
Mesh’s eyes light up, like they tend to do when she’s really excited.
“Really?”
Kat scoffs and cracks a smile, alebit microscopic. She nods.
Mesh squeals, flailing her arms as she lunges towards her best friend.
“You’re the best! I love you!”
***
Sorry for my Vibe.
Hi guys, it’s Mesh!
This vlog is going to be…a bit serious because I’m dedicating it to Daphne Velasquez.
You know that saying, “Never meet your heroes”?
Well, it’s certainly wise to listen to that because my hero hates me.
According to her, I’m a joke that’s making women’s wrestling look bad.
I don’t understand.
It’s like she hates me….just to hate me.
I seriously don’t get her.
Ever since I came to the WFWF, she’s treated me like garbage.
I’ve been nothing but nice to her.
For the first time, I actually have history with my opponent.
A long history.
***
3:55 PM
October 9th, 2006
SYE Records; Mesa, AZ
Melanie and her grandmother, Kari patiently wait in line inside a cramped record store. Casual shoppers search for music while the line to meet some of the biggest names in Legacy Pro Wrestling slowly moves forward. ‘Tighten Up’ by the Black Keys starts to play through the store speakers as one of the store employees breathes into the intercom. “Please remember: the stars of Legacy Pro Wrestling are here to meet you! However, they are on a schedule, so we are limiting the number of items that they can sign by two! I repeat – only two items will be signed. Thank you for your cooperation!”
Luckily for Melanie, she only brought one item – a glossy 8x10 of La Pantera Negra that her grandmother bought her at a LPW show.
“Look, Gramma! There she is!” a young Melanie points, standing on the tip of her shoes, trying to see over the massive and out-of-shape fans that stand in front of her.
Indeed, there she was. La Pantera Negra.
She sits in her chair, chatting with some of the fans that came to see her. Her piercing yellow eyes are hypnotizing. Her black mask glistens underneath the store lights. Her teeth are like pearls, revealing themselves after a smile. Her dark brown hair is wavy and styled as the pointy ears from her mask poke through her mane. There’s a faint ringing heard coming from her jewelry that bangs together as she signs away at various pictures, posters, DVDs and other memorabilia.
Melanie starts to feel that scribbled feeling deep down in her stomach – she’s within arm’s reach of meeting and hugging her favorite wrestler.
Her hero.
The man ahead of Mesh walks up to the conference table where La Pantera Negra is the first wrestler fans could mee, seated in a long conference table. The man has a poster, neatly rolled in his hands that he quickly unrolls as he has a conversation with her. He must’ve made a joke because La Pantera Negra smiles again.
Next to her is the outlandish Gondolazo who pops the crowd with his quirky mannerisms and prop humor.
Besides Pro Wrestling’s First Detective is Ghost Tiger, the high-flying superstar from China. The tiger tattoo etched onto his chest is visible as he came to the appearance in his full getup. He’s not as vocal as his peers, mostly nodding his head to whatever the fan in front of him is saying but he signs away and shake the hands of the fans.
A husky security guard guides Melanie towards the conference table. She makes eye contact with the luchadora ad immediately looks down at her feet and Melanie’s shyness grows stronger, almost hesitant to approach her.
“Hi! What’s your name?”
She’s quiet, biting her lip.
“Mel- Melanie.”
“I like it!”
The young fan can’t help but blush.
“You’ll have to excuse her, she’s so nervous about meeting you,” Gramma Kari chimes in, "You are her absolute favorite!"
“Oh no, it’s okay! She’s adorable.”
“Mel here is a really big fan, isn’t that right?”
Gramma Kari gently nudges the young fan, causing her to shake her head.
“Did you bring anything for me to sign?”
Melanie places the 8x10 on the table, right in front of her favorite wrestler. She grabs a green paint marker and scribbles away. Her jewelry clings as she swipes away at the picture.
“My birthday was yesterday!” Melanie randomly blurts out, the luchadora looks up and beams at the young fan. “Whoa, that’s really cool! Congratulations! How old are you?”
“Eleven.”
A chuckle from La Pantera Negra as she hands Melanie her signed 8x10. The signature glistens under the store lights, the green paint still wet.
“Ask her if you can take a picture with her,” Gramma Kari whispers into her granddaughter’s ear, “Go ahead, I’ll take the picture.”
The young fan takes a few steps forward, she’s suddenly closer to her favorite wrestler.
“Can I take a picture with you?”
“Please?” Her grandmother chimes in, pulling out her cellphone – the ones that flip open.
“Please?”
La Pantera Negra smiles, “Of course!”
A nearby guard escorts Melanie around the table. The luchadora adjusts her body so she’s closer to the fan, putting her arm around her.
Gramma Kari gets a bit closer to the table as both Daphne and Melanie smile.
“Okay, on three – one, two, three!”
The phone emits a clicking sound, as if the old phone were actually a camera, forever immortalizing the moment for Melanie.
***
I went home that day with a big smile on my face. Because of you, Daphne.
My mom framed the picture you signed for me and it hung on my wall for many years, telling myself that one day, I was going to be like you.
When I was old enough, my mom took me to The Butcher Shop, you know that place.
You know my trainer, Dennis Cleaver and how hard he was with us.
I’ve been nothing but nice to her.
For the first time, I actually have history with my opponent.
A long history.
***
3:55 PM
October 9th, 2006
SYE Records; Mesa, AZ
Melanie and her grandmother, Kari patiently wait in line inside a cramped record store. Casual shoppers search for music while the line to meet some of the biggest names in Legacy Pro Wrestling slowly moves forward. ‘Tighten Up’ by the Black Keys starts to play through the store speakers as one of the store employees breathes into the intercom. “Please remember: the stars of Legacy Pro Wrestling are here to meet you! However, they are on a schedule, so we are limiting the number of items that they can sign by two! I repeat – only two items will be signed. Thank you for your cooperation!”
Luckily for Melanie, she only brought one item – a glossy 8x10 of La Pantera Negra that her grandmother bought her at a LPW show.
“Look, Gramma! There she is!” a young Melanie points, standing on the tip of her shoes, trying to see over the massive and out-of-shape fans that stand in front of her.
Indeed, there she was. La Pantera Negra.
She sits in her chair, chatting with some of the fans that came to see her. Her piercing yellow eyes are hypnotizing. Her black mask glistens underneath the store lights. Her teeth are like pearls, revealing themselves after a smile. Her dark brown hair is wavy and styled as the pointy ears from her mask poke through her mane. There’s a faint ringing heard coming from her jewelry that bangs together as she signs away at various pictures, posters, DVDs and other memorabilia.
Melanie starts to feel that scribbled feeling deep down in her stomach – she’s within arm’s reach of meeting and hugging her favorite wrestler.
Her hero.
The man ahead of Mesh walks up to the conference table where La Pantera Negra is the first wrestler fans could mee, seated in a long conference table. The man has a poster, neatly rolled in his hands that he quickly unrolls as he has a conversation with her. He must’ve made a joke because La Pantera Negra smiles again.
Next to her is the outlandish Gondolazo who pops the crowd with his quirky mannerisms and prop humor.
Besides Pro Wrestling’s First Detective is Ghost Tiger, the high-flying superstar from China. The tiger tattoo etched onto his chest is visible as he came to the appearance in his full getup. He’s not as vocal as his peers, mostly nodding his head to whatever the fan in front of him is saying but he signs away and shake the hands of the fans.
A husky security guard guides Melanie towards the conference table. She makes eye contact with the luchadora ad immediately looks down at her feet and Melanie’s shyness grows stronger, almost hesitant to approach her.
“Hi! What’s your name?”
She’s quiet, biting her lip.
“Mel- Melanie.”
“I like it!”
The young fan can’t help but blush.
“You’ll have to excuse her, she’s so nervous about meeting you,” Gramma Kari chimes in, "You are her absolute favorite!"
“Oh no, it’s okay! She’s adorable.”
“Mel here is a really big fan, isn’t that right?”
Gramma Kari gently nudges the young fan, causing her to shake her head.
“Did you bring anything for me to sign?”
Melanie places the 8x10 on the table, right in front of her favorite wrestler. She grabs a green paint marker and scribbles away. Her jewelry clings as she swipes away at the picture.
“My birthday was yesterday!” Melanie randomly blurts out, the luchadora looks up and beams at the young fan. “Whoa, that’s really cool! Congratulations! How old are you?”
“Eleven.”
A chuckle from La Pantera Negra as she hands Melanie her signed 8x10. The signature glistens under the store lights, the green paint still wet.
“Ask her if you can take a picture with her,” Gramma Kari whispers into her granddaughter’s ear, “Go ahead, I’ll take the picture.”
The young fan takes a few steps forward, she’s suddenly closer to her favorite wrestler.
“Can I take a picture with you?”
“Please?” Her grandmother chimes in, pulling out her cellphone – the ones that flip open.
“Please?”
La Pantera Negra smiles, “Of course!”
A nearby guard escorts Melanie around the table. The luchadora adjusts her body so she’s closer to the fan, putting her arm around her.
Gramma Kari gets a bit closer to the table as both Daphne and Melanie smile.
“Okay, on three – one, two, three!”
The phone emits a clicking sound, as if the old phone were actually a camera, forever immortalizing the moment for Melanie.
***
I went home that day with a big smile on my face. Because of you, Daphne.
My mom framed the picture you signed for me and it hung on my wall for many years, telling myself that one day, I was going to be like you.
When I was old enough, my mom took me to The Butcher Shop, you know that place.
You know my trainer, Dennis Cleaver and how hard he was with us.
You know how...cruel he could be at times but he just wanted us to succeed.
Yet, I graduated from his class and spent years on the indies, trying to get good.
Trying to be like you.
I remember the day you came in for a seminar like it was yesterday.
Of course, you didn't remember me but I wasn't expecting you too.
I became an even bigger fan of yours after that seminar.
***
June 14th, 2012
12:34 AM
The Butcher Shop; Los Angeles, CA
“Alright – listen up!”
The nine aspiring wrestlers all gather together, sitting around the wrestling ring, looking up at their trainer.
“Now we have a special guest coming in today for a seminar – some of you may know her,” he says, looking over at Melanie as he paces back and forth, his hands on his waist, “Regardless, I want all of you to listen. She’s been around the world and I know she’ll give each and every single one of yous something to hold on to for when you get to the big leagues.”
His students all watch on, all serious and focused.
“So, everybody, please give a warm welcome to La Pantera Negra….Daphne Velasquez!”
Among the oohs and ahhs, Melanie’s eyes grow wide, mouthing the word, what? She stands up and sees a silhouette by the door.
The pointed ear figures walks through the light and there she is – Daphne Velazquez, dressed head to toe in black with her black mask covering her face. She hugs Cleaver before facing the students.
“Hello everyone! I'm Daphne Velasquez. As you already know, your trainer asked me to come here and teach you a thing or two about making it in this business.”
She stops and also paces back and forth.
“Of course, this business is male-dominated so I’m not surprised to see all guys –“ she looks out into the distance and makes eye contact with Melanie, who’s smiling from ear to ear. Her demeanor changes drastically upon realizing Melanie, “Oh, wonderful. There's one girl here!"
"It’s tougher for women in this business because we have a shelf life and sometimes, we aren’t taken as seriously as the men are.”
Cleaver nods his head in agreement behind her.
“I’m speaking to only….what’s your name?” those piercing yellow eyes looking right at Melanie. The rest of her group turn and look at her. “Melanie.”
“I don’t know if you know this, Melanie but you have to stand out. Look around you!”
The veteran extends both her arms out, Melanie looks around her.
“All the muchachos here all kinda blend in and that works for them but not you–“ she points at the girl.
“You need to look different. You need to be different,” she says, pointing at her mask, “It worked for me and I know it’ll work for you too, Melanie.”
The young, aspiring wrestler just stares at the luchadora, really taking in all the advice she’s bestowing onto her. She goes on to give more advice to the boys, but Melanie has tuned out – she’s in awe of Daphne. She looks so cool, she’s fit, she’s tough.
Everything Melanie wants to be.
Later that day…
Sounds of the mat crashing and a loud groan echo in The Butcher Shop, followed by screaming. Cleaver traps the right arm of JJ and cranks back on the neck of the aspiring wrestler with a crossface. Agonizing screams pierce everyone's ears as the student quickly taps out, Cleaver immediately letting go of the hold.
“Good job, mijo! You hung in there.”
The husky, buzzcut teenager gets helped up to his feet by Cleaver. He walks away, favoring his neck from the effects of the move.
“Mel! You’re up.”
Cleaver points at her. Without hesitation or fear, she steps through the ropes and immediately locks up with her trainer. Sounds of cymbals crashing as the two combatants bounce on the mat, jockeying for position. Cleaver wrenches the arm of his student, bringing her to one knee. The trainer transitions behind Melanie, lifting her up and slamming her down on the mat, a tight grip around her waist.
Daphne watches on, with her arms crossed as the rest of the student’s study. Melanie groans with each move she takes as her trainer grabs her arm and pulls it back like a lever.
She screams in pain, her legs flailing as her trainer uses all of his weight to torque the arm. With her legs, Melanie manages to reach the ropes, breaking the hold.
“Great job, Melanie! You don’t always have to fight out of the hold. The ropes are your best friends in certain situations.” Daphne says, turning to face the rest of the students.
The young trainee uses the ropes to get up but makes a mistake – she charges towards her trainer who then flips her over, slamming her down with a back body drop!
"Sometimes, it's better to wait for your opponent to come to you."
Melanie gets up again and locks up with her trainer who gets her into the corner. He leans back and chops her in the chest, her body trembling as she goes down to the mat! The rest of the trainees groan together as Daphne watches on, with her arms crossed.
Cleaver gets Melanie up and brings her down with a headlock takedown. This time, she’s able to get up and shove her trainer off, sending him into the ropes. He comes around and drops her with a shoulder block. The trainer leaps over the body of Melanie and the student goes for an arm drag but Cleaver stops and reverses the hold, slamming her onto the mat!
Cleaver approaches her but with a drop toehold, Melanie gets him down! Realizing what she did, she poses and dances for her fellow trainees. Daphne disapproves of the inexperience, "Stay on him! Stay on him!"
She approaches her trainer but he immediately tosses her over his head with a beautiful belly-to-back suplex!
Melanie looks to be pain as she struggles to get up, biting her lips. Cleaver gets her up again, chopping her chest. While she's stunned, Cleaver scoops her up and drops her with a vertical suplex. Cleaver hooks the leg as the students make the count.
1!
2!
Melanie kicks out! Daphne cracks a smile.
Cleaver picks up the trainee but she uses her size to her advantage to scurry past her trainer, quickly climbing up to the top rope. Once Cleaver turns around, Melanie leaps off but gets caught and dropped with a vicious powerslam that causes the ring to shake!
Daphne shakes her head.
12:34 AM
The Butcher Shop; Los Angeles, CA
“Alright – listen up!”
The nine aspiring wrestlers all gather together, sitting around the wrestling ring, looking up at their trainer.
“Now we have a special guest coming in today for a seminar – some of you may know her,” he says, looking over at Melanie as he paces back and forth, his hands on his waist, “Regardless, I want all of you to listen. She’s been around the world and I know she’ll give each and every single one of yous something to hold on to for when you get to the big leagues.”
His students all watch on, all serious and focused.
“So, everybody, please give a warm welcome to La Pantera Negra….Daphne Velasquez!”
Among the oohs and ahhs, Melanie’s eyes grow wide, mouthing the word, what? She stands up and sees a silhouette by the door.
The pointed ear figures walks through the light and there she is – Daphne Velazquez, dressed head to toe in black with her black mask covering her face. She hugs Cleaver before facing the students.
“Hello everyone! I'm Daphne Velasquez. As you already know, your trainer asked me to come here and teach you a thing or two about making it in this business.”
She stops and also paces back and forth.
“Of course, this business is male-dominated so I’m not surprised to see all guys –“ she looks out into the distance and makes eye contact with Melanie, who’s smiling from ear to ear. Her demeanor changes drastically upon realizing Melanie, “Oh, wonderful. There's one girl here!"
"It’s tougher for women in this business because we have a shelf life and sometimes, we aren’t taken as seriously as the men are.”
Cleaver nods his head in agreement behind her.
“I’m speaking to only….what’s your name?” those piercing yellow eyes looking right at Melanie. The rest of her group turn and look at her. “Melanie.”
“I don’t know if you know this, Melanie but you have to stand out. Look around you!”
The veteran extends both her arms out, Melanie looks around her.
“All the muchachos here all kinda blend in and that works for them but not you–“ she points at the girl.
“You need to look different. You need to be different,” she says, pointing at her mask, “It worked for me and I know it’ll work for you too, Melanie.”
The young, aspiring wrestler just stares at the luchadora, really taking in all the advice she’s bestowing onto her. She goes on to give more advice to the boys, but Melanie has tuned out – she’s in awe of Daphne. She looks so cool, she’s fit, she’s tough.
Everything Melanie wants to be.
Later that day…
Sounds of the mat crashing and a loud groan echo in The Butcher Shop, followed by screaming. Cleaver traps the right arm of JJ and cranks back on the neck of the aspiring wrestler with a crossface. Agonizing screams pierce everyone's ears as the student quickly taps out, Cleaver immediately letting go of the hold.
“Good job, mijo! You hung in there.”
The husky, buzzcut teenager gets helped up to his feet by Cleaver. He walks away, favoring his neck from the effects of the move.
“Mel! You’re up.”
Cleaver points at her. Without hesitation or fear, she steps through the ropes and immediately locks up with her trainer. Sounds of cymbals crashing as the two combatants bounce on the mat, jockeying for position. Cleaver wrenches the arm of his student, bringing her to one knee. The trainer transitions behind Melanie, lifting her up and slamming her down on the mat, a tight grip around her waist.
Daphne watches on, with her arms crossed as the rest of the student’s study. Melanie groans with each move she takes as her trainer grabs her arm and pulls it back like a lever.
She screams in pain, her legs flailing as her trainer uses all of his weight to torque the arm. With her legs, Melanie manages to reach the ropes, breaking the hold.
“Great job, Melanie! You don’t always have to fight out of the hold. The ropes are your best friends in certain situations.” Daphne says, turning to face the rest of the students.
The young trainee uses the ropes to get up but makes a mistake – she charges towards her trainer who then flips her over, slamming her down with a back body drop!
"Sometimes, it's better to wait for your opponent to come to you."
Melanie gets up again and locks up with her trainer who gets her into the corner. He leans back and chops her in the chest, her body trembling as she goes down to the mat! The rest of the trainees groan together as Daphne watches on, with her arms crossed.
Cleaver gets Melanie up and brings her down with a headlock takedown. This time, she’s able to get up and shove her trainer off, sending him into the ropes. He comes around and drops her with a shoulder block. The trainer leaps over the body of Melanie and the student goes for an arm drag but Cleaver stops and reverses the hold, slamming her onto the mat!
Cleaver approaches her but with a drop toehold, Melanie gets him down! Realizing what she did, she poses and dances for her fellow trainees. Daphne disapproves of the inexperience, "Stay on him! Stay on him!"
She approaches her trainer but he immediately tosses her over his head with a beautiful belly-to-back suplex!
Melanie looks to be pain as she struggles to get up, biting her lips. Cleaver gets her up again, chopping her chest. While she's stunned, Cleaver scoops her up and drops her with a vertical suplex. Cleaver hooks the leg as the students make the count.
1!
2!
Melanie kicks out! Daphne cracks a smile.
Cleaver picks up the trainee but she uses her size to her advantage to scurry past her trainer, quickly climbing up to the top rope. Once Cleaver turns around, Melanie leaps off but gets caught and dropped with a vicious powerslam that causes the ring to shake!
Daphne shakes her head.
Cleaver hooks the leg.
1!
2!
3!
Cleaver helps Melanie up to her feet, who's a bit dazed. Once it's established that she's okay, she leaves the ring and Cleaver calls for the next trainee: Pain Train. As she walks away, hurting from the experience Daphne leaves her post and sits next to her on a bench nearby.
"You okay?"
Melanie nods, trying to crack her neck.
"There's a lot you still need to learn," Daphne says, putting her hand on Melanie's shoulder, "You're really good at taking a bump though so that's good."
"You think I did a good job?"
Daphne doesn't answer right away, almost thinking of what to say, "You were...okay. How long have you been training for?"
"Two months."
"It shows and I know Gancho is tough but that's because this business is tough. You'll have to get used to this way of life."
"Thank you for the advice. It means a lot coming from my favorite wrestler!"
The compliment made Daphne smile.
"I appreciate it but focus on your training. Don't get starstruck because you're in the business now."
"But-"
"No nada! I see potential in you, Melanie but I don't want to be the subject of ridicule or disrespect from the many culos you're going to meet."
"It's just that...I love wrestling."
"We all do, otherwise we wouldn't want to get beat up for a living but it's also a business," Daphne continues, "Keep that in mind as you continue to grow and learn."
Melanie shakes her head, staying quiet. The moment between the two is interrupted by a loud bang!
Cleaver just powerbombed the 6'5, 280 Pain Train.
"That sounded nasty! Want to go watch?"
Melanie smiles and agrees.
***
1!
2!
3!
Cleaver helps Melanie up to her feet, who's a bit dazed. Once it's established that she's okay, she leaves the ring and Cleaver calls for the next trainee: Pain Train. As she walks away, hurting from the experience Daphne leaves her post and sits next to her on a bench nearby.
"You okay?"
Melanie nods, trying to crack her neck.
"There's a lot you still need to learn," Daphne says, putting her hand on Melanie's shoulder, "You're really good at taking a bump though so that's good."
"You think I did a good job?"
Daphne doesn't answer right away, almost thinking of what to say, "You were...okay. How long have you been training for?"
"Two months."
"It shows and I know Gancho is tough but that's because this business is tough. You'll have to get used to this way of life."
"Thank you for the advice. It means a lot coming from my favorite wrestler!"
The compliment made Daphne smile.
"I appreciate it but focus on your training. Don't get starstruck because you're in the business now."
"But-"
"No nada! I see potential in you, Melanie but I don't want to be the subject of ridicule or disrespect from the many culos you're going to meet."
"It's just that...I love wrestling."
"We all do, otherwise we wouldn't want to get beat up for a living but it's also a business," Daphne continues, "Keep that in mind as you continue to grow and learn."
Melanie shakes her head, staying quiet. The moment between the two is interrupted by a loud bang!
Cleaver just powerbombed the 6'5, 280 Pain Train.
"That sounded nasty! Want to go watch?"
Melanie smiles and agrees.
***
Those first few bumps hurt.
A lot, in fact I remember wanting to cry a few times but I didn't - because you were there and I didn't want to disappoint you.
La Pantera Negra never cries so I couldn't either.
I listened to your advice to become the person - and wrestler I am today.
As I was going to say before you cut me off at Event Horizon - me being everything that you hate is all because of you.
I think that's what pisses you off.
I wanted to be you so bad but I knew that was never going to happen so I became something different.
Sure, I'm not the most traditional WFWF wrestler but it's who I am.
I try so hard but I can't change.
I'm at a point in life where I don't really care about what people like you think about me.
As far as I'm concerned, the way you think wrestling should be is outdated. Women in wrestling are taken seriously now.
I mean - Penny f'n Shannon is in the main event for the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship!
That certainly wasn't the case in the AWF and I know how...limited you were in LPW - wrestling only women.
Yet I'm a joke.
I make women wrestlers look bad everywhere.
Penny doesn't think that.
A lot of my friends in the AWF don't think that.
It's just you.
Honestly, her opinion matters more to me than yours.
You know, everyone always brings up that tweet I put out after getting my face shattered at End Time.
It's not that I don't take this business seriously.
The sight of my own blood dripping from my nose gave me this...rush like I've ever felt before and I'm certainly not afraid to bleed in our match if I have to.
Guess I don't mind blood
Maybe, I'll just bleed to death in the middle of the ring and that wouldn't be enough for you, probably.
You'd be like, "Oh, if you were really tough you wouldn't bleed" or whatever.
The fact is - I am tough.
I hate to brag about myself but it's true.
I go out there and prove it to everyone.
I've faced dudes twice my size and I've beaten them.
Hamilton K. Clarke, Bat Boy, Priceless, Smash, Shugs - I've beaten all of them.
Sure, I was bloodied, beaten, battered, bruised, sore afterwards but I won.
I earned the Vanguard Championship that you claim was just handed to me.
I beat Penny Shannon, who I love and adore and she's the best.
Yeah, yeah I lost to Frank but even he'll tell you that I'm good.
I really brought the fight to him, I don't think anyone expected that.
I'm going to bring the fight to you as well.
My mom is going to be at ringside.
My trainer is going to be at ringside.
My dance troupe are going to be at ringside.
My best friend is going to be at ringside.
Members of the Good Vibe Tribe are all going to be at ringside
We're in my area. My hometown. Where I live.
I’ve been paranoid since London, when I won the Vanguard Championship. There’s a bunch of things that just…run wild in my head.
Why you hate me so much has been one of them.
All I’ve ever wanted was your approval and your respect.
At Resolution, I’m going to make you respect me.
I’m going to prove to you that I’m not a joke.
Why you hate me so much has been one of them.
All I’ve ever wanted was your approval and your respect.
At Resolution, I’m going to make you respect me.
I’m going to prove to you that I’m not a joke.
You call me a joke yet you don’t know how many DMs I get or how many times people come up to me at signings and tell me how much I’ve helped them.
How much I've inspired them.
You can’t joke that.
That’s who I fight for.
Of course, I'm still a fan of you. I always will be.
The memories I have of watching you fly across the ring like a real-life superhero mean so much to me.
I'm never going to not like you, Daphne but I know better now.
At Resolution, I'm going to give you my all.
Maybe then you'll treat me different.
If I win, I won't rub it in your face or anything. I'll walk over to you and shake your hand because you're still my favorite wrestler.
If I lose, I deserve whatever lovely things you'll be sure to say about me and then maybe, you'll truly be an ass kicker.
Whatever happens, I'm ready for Resolution.
It's make it or break it for me.
If I can't beat you then maybe you're right but I'll never stop fighting.
If I don't earn your respect, that's okay because I don't need it.
I have the respect of Frank Lynn and Penny Shannon.
Two of the best ever.
That's all I need.
I'll see you at Resolution, Daphne.
