It took a little bit of time for me to feel back to myself that night. And it definitely took a little bit of time to shake the feeling that an irate Genesis might barge her way into the dressing room, even if she’d have to get through about a dozen women to get her hands on me.
Eventually, though, Jade came up to me. And after offering her congratulations, she told me she’d seen Santiago storm her way out of the building once she had gotten showered and dressed. The coast was clear, to go back out in the hall.
But all I wanted to do was soak in my tub for about twelve hours.
I settled for a shower, though, once I felt strong enough to stumble into the stall. Once the night was over, a bunch of us girls (me, Nikki, Jaz, Quinn, Nicoma, Nova, and Starfyre) all went out to grab a bite to eat. As the native Hoosier, I was appointed Dining Coordinator for the evening. As such, I decided that if they wanted the authentic Hoosier experience, it doesn’t get much more Indiana than Steak ‘n Shake.
(Unless, of course, you count Penguin Point. But while they might be the people pleasin’ place, it was late, we were quite a bit of people, and what was gonna please us most was the chance to sit and relax for a while.)
Over steakburgers (and salads for the Spencer sisters, them being vegan and all) we spent the rest of the night celebrating Nicoma’s winning the Midwestern title from “the Hot Girl” Summer Thatcher, commiserating with Nova and Starfyre for coming up just short against the Hurricane Sisters, and the other girls continuing to heap more congratulations on me than I was comfortable accepting. Especially considering how much Genesis had actually controlled the match. Still, a win’s a win, so I wasn’t about to argue the outcome.
Eventually we all made our way back to the motel, shared a few hugs (EVERYONE got one from Nikki) and said our goodbyes. Some of us had early flights out of town in the morning, others needed to hit the road early. And some of us like to sleep in a little after a rough match. So, you never can be sure just who you’re gonna see in the lobby in the morning, which means it’s best to make your farewells tonight. I did end up running into Nicoma while checking out, but sure enough, I didn’t see anyone else before I started the drive home.
Kathy Davies wasn’t at the show, and it wasn’t streamed online, but I knew word would reach her that one of her top stars had just taken a second, and far more surprising, loss pretty quickly. So, I expected to get a phone call pretty soon. And my phone definitely blew up, starting Monday morning. My dad used to talk all the time about being a wrestling fan as a child, and how in those days, how it was such a chore to keep track of the important developments outside of your little fiefdom and the national promotions. Basically, once a month or so you got a small update from one of the magazines. But it’s a big country, never mind the world, and they only cast as much of a spotlight on things as their limited page counts could provide.
Not so today, in a world of the internet and social media. No, today no matter how small a town a show might be held in, it could conceivably be seen as far away as Antarctica, thanks either to the show being streamed online or some fan taking out their phone, shooting video and tweeting it or posting it to YouTube. No, it was never easier to be a wrestling fan than it is today.
So, when a relative unknown like yours truly takes down an established star like Genesis Santiago… saying I went viral would probably be an overstatement, even if you were just talking about the world of online wrestling fandom. But my win definitely got noticed. And I started getting phone calls looking for interviews. Both from the professional online wrestling media, and also from… look, today everyone and their brother, sister, and third cousin twice removed has a podcast. And I’d gotten a few calls from them as well, hoping to get me on their shows.
But nothing from Kathy. At least not yet.
By Wednesday, I was no longer constantly looking at my lock screen. Instead, I was looking at my laptop screen, like I do every Wednesday evening. Alina Harvey had always stressed the importance of video study during her training.
(Well, technically, she always stressed “tape study.” But who the fuck has tapes these days?
If I knew I had an opponent coming up, I’d knock myself out watching their material. But I also felt it was important to go back and watch my own stuff. Sometimes my wins, sure, but honestly? I spent more time going back over my losses. Trying to learn from them. Looking to see if I could spot what I might have done differently.
Like tonight.
I’ve wrestled a fair amount of people in my short time in the business. But there are only a handful of girls I can say I’ve wrestled more than once at this point. Such was the life of an independent wrestler. If you were one of the boys or the girls in the big leagues, with their set rosters and consistent time to be focused on, then you had the luxury of building true rivalries. On the indies, though, where the rosters were far more fluid and anyone could disappear at a moment’s notice, your true honest to God blood rivalries were a little rarer. I’m not really sure you can say I have a legitimate blood rival in the business…
… but if I do, her name is Luna Salazar.
I’m gonna be honest. With her and me, it was loathing at first sight. Y’know, whenever you get any of us girls in interviews, whatever personal issues we might have with whoever we’re working with, we’re usually pretty good with compartmentalizing. We may not like the other girl personally, but we’ll usually be quick to say we respect them and the work they’ve done to get here. The sacrifices they’ve made. Women supporting women, am I right? That’s the goal, isn’t it?
But real talk here. Some girls in the business haven’t put in the work. Some of them haven’t sacrificed. And that’s Luna.
I decided to become a wrestler as a kid, and everything I’ve done since then has been to help me reach the top of the business. I highly doubt Luna gave the first thought to becoming a wrestler before that talent executive in Hartford saw her in a swimsuit catalog at 19 and saw money. Some girls work fifteen to twenty years hoping for a shot at the big leagues. The first time Luna set foot in a ring was for a developmental promotion for one of the major leagues.
Now, I will give the devil her due: she was in their system for a year and a half before they let her go, and it would have been very easy for her to decide to go back to modeling. But instead, she went to the indy circuit. No doubt with an eye toward making the big leagues reconsider. She certainly never let any of us forget that she had already been where most of us wanted to go, even if she wasn’t still there now.
So far, we’ve met three different times, in three different companies. Promoters liked to put us together, for some reason. And honestly, I get it. We’re definitely an aesthetically pleasing match up. We’re both on the young side. She’s actually just a bit younger than me. I’m blonde, she’s… not. Honestly, girl LOVES changing her hair color. I’m pretty sure it’s been a different color each time we’ve fought. I’ve got an ass that’s sold a metric fuckton of 8x10”s, and she’s…
Alright. We’ve GOTTA talk about the bazoombas.
I mean, I don’t wanna be gratuitous. But Jesus fuck, they’re about as gratuitous as you can get without be downright ridiculous. I was speculating when it came to Genesis, but one thing about having a past as a model was that Luna’s bra size was a matter of public record. And while there’s NO way you could ever call 32G “proportionate,” they didn’t look out of place on her.
I wouldn’t want her back. Especially after a few more years in this business.
I’ve definitely lost my share of matches coming up through the ranks, though I know I’ve won more than I lost. I couldn’t tell you exactly how many more off the top of my head without paying a visit to HellInACell.com, but I’ve got a good record.
Except against Luna.
Technically, I’m 1-2 against Luna. Though truthfully, it’s hard to feel like I’ve ever come out on top against her. The last time we met was officially a “W” for me, but that win was the result of the referee turning around just in time to actually SEE her land the brass knuckles shot she was hoping would give her the victory. She was still the one who walked out of the ring that night, while I got carried to the back.
The second time we met, I absolutely HAD her. But she managed to steal the win, thanks in large part to both a pair of feet on the middle rope, as well as a handful of tights. She wasn’t taking any chances.
But the first match… I definitely underestimated her the first time out. Because here’s the thing: for as much as she never had to work for it, the girl… doesn’t suck.
(And if you EVER tell anyone I said that I will kick your fucking ass.)
Honestly? Of all the girls they’ve taken out of swimsuit and lingerie catalogs over the years, she might be one of the most talented ones. If this bitch had come up through Alina’s program? She might be a bona fide force today. Honestly, it boggles my mind that the good folks in Hartford threw her back out on the streets, considering some of the women with similar backgrounds that they’ve kept around.
But hey, they’ve been around her more than I have. And sometimes, it takes more than just talent. Maybe they were around her enough to know that however good she might be, her head just wasn’t in the right place to make a proper go of this.
Still… her head was in a good enough place that she could get me up on her shoulders and in a Torture Rack. Or, excuse me, the Midnight Bridge, as she called in. (And gee, I wonder why on Earth the coaches who got their hands on her thought THAT would be a great finish for a girl with a rack like hers…) I’m still proud of myself for passing out that night, rather than giving up.
But, of our three matches, that’s the one I revisit the most. Noting my mistakes. Trying to ensure that I never underestimate her (or anyone else) again, as much as I can help it.
On my laptop screen, Luna was juuust starting to muscle me up onto her shoulders when I heard my ringtone. And finally, there it was: Kathy’s name, showing on my lock screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, kid. It’s Kathy Davies,” said the voice on the end of the line. The way old people who grew up without cellphones with built-in Caller ID often do. “Sorry I haven’t called sooner, but it’s been a busy week trying to get next iPPV put together.”
“No worries,” I said, my free hand flexing and relaxing as I got up and started to pace. Trying to give a physical outlet for all the stress, anxiety and excitement I wanted to keep out of my voice.
“Anyways,” Kathy continued, “I also wanted to congratulate you on the win this weekend. Even though it wasn’t the most convincing of victories, was it?”
I didn’t bristle at that remark. I knew what she was doing. Kathy Davies was, first and foremost, a businesswoman. And she had to know her leverage in this situation was less than ideal. She was talking to a woman who had just scored possibly the biggest upset in the history of her company for a very long time. She would be absolutely crazy not to bring me back and try to capitalize on that.
But no doubt she was hoping I was too young and naïve to realize that.
“A win’s a win,” I said, simply.
“True,” Kathy agreed. “But before I commit to using you long term, I need to know that wasn’t a fluke.”
Okay. The f-word did make me bristle, however slightly. But I bit my tongue. Never piss off the person deciding whether or they want to hire you.
“With that in mind,” Kathy carried on, “I wanna bring you in. to open the iPPV with a tryout match. You win that, and I’ll start factoring you into my long-term plans.”
I closed my eyes, clenching my free hand into a tight fist as I started jumping up and down, trying not to squeal in excitement. And hoping she couldn’t hear me touch down each time I landed.
“You free next weekend?” she asked.
Gathering myself, I didn’t beat. “I’m a professional,” I said. “I’m never free.”
I could hear the tiniest of laughs on the other end of the line. Kathy has a pretty good reputation in the business for being fair with her business practices. I’ve never heard any of the girls who’ve come through 3M complain about their payoffs.
“But I’m available.”
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