Post by Justin Rivera on Nov 27, 2021 14:16:08 GMT
---It's always interested me, how life can work sometimes. How it can ultimately turn out that your "true calling" ends up being something that is wildly different to what you had envisioned it would be when you were growing up and finding your way in the world. Something that you had never truly envisioned or even considered, yet the moment you lay your eyes upon that thing, it sucks you in and leaves you enamored. As if you were always destined to partake within the occupation. It's like it had been lurking in the shadows all this time, waiting for you to acknowledge it and realize that just like the woman you always found yourself gravitating toward, even if you couldn't bring yourself to pull the trigger with her, that it was the fabled "one". That you and it, just like you and her, were meant to be together from the start and all that was left was for you to consummate the marriage. Both figuratively and literally.
That's what I have been with professional wrestling.
I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I grew up a wrestling fan, or that I knew ever since I was a baby that this was the path I wanted to take in life, because that would be a lie. In truth, it was only about three months ago when it finally hit me and I understood that it was the sport for me. That it was the path that I should be taking, even if it wasn't the path I had desired. See, I wanted to be either a teacher or a mixed martial artist when I was younger, following in my parents footsteps. Wrestling hadn't even been in my top five, nor had I watched any wrestling at a serious level. Sure, I had seen a few independent shows here and there when dad would take me to them, but I had either been too young or simply there to spend time with him, not focused on the action occurring in the middle of the ring. Even as I got older, I never thought much about wrestling, focusing more on Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai, with a bit of kickboxing here and there. Those were my interests and those were what I thought would take me to where I wanted to be in life.
Namely, the UFC.
In fact, if it weren't for two people, my BJJ instructor and a friend who had been in my BJJ class, I would have laughed at anybody who even considered suggesting becoming a professional wrestler and told you that it was merely another thing people who couldn't cut it in real fights turned to, believing that it would give them a kick of dopamine whilst providing an illusion of capability of actually being able to fight. I'm glad that the two of them set me straight when it comes to that, however, as every time I would even open my mouth with those sentiments, they would either smack me silly or give me a glare that lived up to the phrase "if looks could kill", informing me that I was simply being ignorant and that if I didn't remain silent, then they would show me how wrong I was. I'm glad they did, otherwise I don't think I would have ever realized how much skill and effort truly goes into wrestling and just how vicious the sport can truly be.
Just as I am thankful that once I accepted their stance, how willing they were to sit down and not only talk to me about wrestling and show me the ropes, but how they were willing to help me in terms of learning the nuances of wrestling and work with me in the ring so that I could experience it first hand. They didn't have to, but they did. It was those sessions that began to plant the seeds inside of me that maybe this was the right field. That this may be the calling, the direction I was destined to take, as much as my head and gut were screaming that no, MMA and the UFC was still what I should be angling toward, or the faint sound of my heart attempting to remind me of the statement I made to my mom about wanting to be a teacher as she had been.
Yet even right now, I cannot truly explain just what that feeling was.
Nor can I fully explain it. All I know is that it was there. Lingering and a small yet persistent voice, whispering that they were right. That it would be wrestling and not martial arts that would provide me with the best avenue toward what I wished to achieve in life. A voice that would become louder and louder over time, to the point where it was figuratively screaming internally and quite literally screaming externally, courtesy of the aforementioned instructor and classmate. To the point where even my dad, who had been insistent on me entering MMA if I were to participate in sport, had to agree with me when he turned up to one of my training sessions. By that point, I had slowly but surely begun to warm to the idea of becoming a wrestler. To step inside of the squared circle instead of the octagon and ply my trade there. After all, a lot of the skills and technique would transition over and I could even divert to MMA if I so chose, just as long as I had given wrestling a shot. Keeping MMA in my back pocket if that is what I wished to do, in case it turns out that this ultimately isn't the right career path for me. Same with the ability to head back to college and focus once more on education and becoming a teacher. After all, providing yourself with more options and having back up plans in case your first one goes awry is always beneficial, otherwise I know that I would simply find myself becoming just another lost soul, drifting from place to place and simply meandering. Loitering without a true purpose, something that my parents repeatedly informed me was not the way to approach life throughout my formative years. It'd be doing myself a disservice.
Hopefully I won't need to turn to those back up plans, however, and wrestling truly does show itself to be the one. To be the best fit for what I can personally offer within the sport Both inside and outside of the ring. I trust my instructor and my classmate, probably more than I truly should at times, yet I know that in the end, the only person who can truly figure out the best route for me to take in life. In my career... is myself. As it should be, for I am the one who shall define my own path and prove that even though I may not have the lineage or the prestige of some of the sports greats. Even though I may not have the history in wrestling as some of those who came before me, or who are in the ring presently or even may follow my entry into the sport, I more than have the capability and the skillset to match anybody who might step up against me between the ropes. All that is left for me to do now, is find a place to call home and dip my toes into, thus taking the first step into the world of professional wrestling.
Where will that be? Only time will tell.---
The scene opens to the interior of the dingy, smells of sweat and body odor gymnasium at Syracuse University, there the aroma emitting from the facilities is especially pungent, to the point where if a person unfamiliar with the scent were to walk in, they would immediately recoil and scrunch up their nose upon their first sniff of it. Scanning around the gym, it can be seen that there are about twenty to twenty-five people, all of whom are students participating in various workouts, from the bench press [[both the incline and standard versions]] to the squat rack or the hammer strength machine and the indoor cycle bikes. Even the barbells and dumbbells, the vast majority of the occupants are partaking in some form of workout catered to their needs and desires.
At the back of the gym, there are a few patrons seated atop the bleachers and glistening with sweat, having recently finished their workouts for the day and preparing to "hit the showers'' before heading either back to their dorms or apartments for the night. About three and a half feet right of center atop those bleachers, sit two people. A man and a woman, both of whom appear to either be freshmen or sophomores, with the male being attired in a black under armor shirt, black under armor workout pants and black under armor sneakers and the female in a black Nike sports bra, black leggings and black Adidas sneakers. The pair also have a white gym towel draped across their shoulders and neck, whilst also having slightly staggered breathing due to the intensity of their workout session. Despite that, the two glance at one another, soft, joyful laughter leaving their mouths.
Male: We should really do this more often. You know how to force me to take it to that next level and honestly, I need that. God knows what it's like during classes with Ryan.
More laughing ensues, as the woman nods her head in agreement with that sentiment.
Woman: Tell me about it. I love the man to bits but sometimes it feels as if he wants to take it easy on us. Plus, with you, I know it'll be a lot more fun... and not just in terms of the workout.
The woman winks at him, as he grins like a Cheshire cat, knowing exactly what she means with those comments. A sentiment that he agrees with, in more ways than one, even if he places his index finger atop his pursed lips in a shushing manner.
Male: Not where everybody can hear us, Lauren. When we get home though...
Lauren looks at him, slightly rolling her eyes as she leans her head back, a wryly smiling.
Lauren: I wouldn't have taken you as the type to get embarrassed, Justin. I guess there is a marshmallow heart inside of there after all.
Justin glares at her, attempting to affirm whether or not she truly made that claim about him.
Justin: I'm not. You know what people here can be like, especially when it comes to gossip. Remember the stuff about Rachael and Stefan? How quickly that shit spread around the campus?
Lauren sighs calmly, tilting her head forward and softening her look toward her boyfriend, her mind flickering to when she had heard about that gossip in class from one of her classmates, even as Stefan and Rachael attempted to keep their relationship under wraps at the time, before admitting it following all the speculation and rumors.
Lauren: True enough, I guess... I don't see anything to be ashamed of though. Why shouldn't we parade it around. It's not like anyone is going to try to bully us or fuck with our relationship, seeing as they know if they did, then we'd make sure they regretted it.
Justin can't help but heartily chuckle at that, seeing as it is true. They both have training in martial arts [[primarily the disciplines of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai]] and wrestling and can more than hold their own if they are required to. Not that either of them want it to get to that point where it would be required outside of classes or their respective fields, as per the principles of self-defense they agreed upon with their coach. So, it's safe to assume that if anyone were to try and throw their relationship in their face, they would see that as a means to pull it out of the bag and teach them a lesson, so to speak.
Justin: Yeah, but remember what we promised Ryan. I don't think either of us should want it to get to that point.
Lauren: Okay, "dad".
She mockingly sticks her tongue out at him before sardonically smiling as Justin gently shakes his head, just hoping for the topic to change at this point. Or even to go and take a shower as the stench emitting from his body appears to be even affecting him at this point. Noticing this, Lauren internally concedes that maybe she should take a shower herself, as she doesn't want to get into the car smelling like an armpit. Plus, the clothing feels as if it is sticking to her, such is the sweat seeping through its fabric as it runs down her skin and face, even causing her makeup to appear as if it has smeared.
Lauren: Anyway, you found a place you want to sign up for?
Justin looks at her, confused as to what she is referring to.
Justin: Huh? You talking about wrestling? Martial Arts? Or something completely different? Please enlighten the class.
Playfully punching him, Lauren beams warmly.
Lauren: Wrestling, silly!
She gleefully remarks, as he raises his eyebrows and lets out an audible "oh" as if it has just clicked in his mind. The old reliable lightbulb went off inside of his head.
Justin: Oh. Nah, not yet. Seen a few places online, but not sure on them right now. Want to make sure I find the right place and don't just choose somewhere just because they are a wrestling company, you know? Otherwise it'll simply feel like a waste and something I'm doing for the sake of doing, when that's not the intent at all.
Lauren responds with a "uh huh" as she makes direct eye contact with him, her stare delivered through half-lidded eyes.
Justin: You found somewhere?
She gently shakes her head.
Lauren: Nah. Same as you, seen a few places but want to make sure the fit is right.
Sighing, she gives him a slightly disappointed look.
Lauren: I was hoping you would have found somewhere, so that I wouldn't have to.
Justin's lips partially open as his nose wrinkles at the sound of those words as she gently cocks her head to the left, her smile sweet in nature and her eyes open wide, as if she was a child who was attempting to coax her parents into buying her the most popular fashion accessory or a doll that was popular within her school. Raising his right hand, Justin gently places it atop his face, attempting to hide the grimace that has arisen across his face, even as he attempts to mask it with a smirk.
Justin: Oh, really? Maybe then I'll take my sweet little time and let you squirm then.
He then ponders that, chuckling as an expression of dread appears across his companion's face.
Justin: Yeah, that sounds like it'd be fun actually.
Lauren gasps, as Justin continues chuckling. Appearing to enjoy the change of emotions from Lauren, who's stomach has slowly begun to turn into a knot.
Lauren: You wouldn't...
Justin: I would.
His voice completely deadpan, Lauren simply pivots on her heels, picking her gym bag up in a singular swoop and begins to walk off, heading in the direction of the showers, frowning as she curls her upper lip. Even if she knows that he is messing around, she loves nothing more than to pout and guilt-trip him on occasions like this, in a somewhat twisted fashion. Such is the nature of their relationship. She'll likely be the one finding the company anyway, seeing as she at least has some knowledge of where to look... being the "wrestling fan" out of the two. Even if it ends up just being for herself who joins the company. Picking up his own gym bag, Justin decides to follow her lead and take a shower himself, as it is seven thirty PM and he'd rather not stay out too late at the gym, lest he allow himself to be overcome by the scent and smell arising around him, no matter how desensitized he might be to it. Plus, he is also Lauren's ride to and from the gym so if she wants to leave, then he knows it's best if he does the same.
Justin: I'll meet you at the car.
Turning and entering the bathroom, Lauren slightly turns her head in his direction and nods, acknowledging his words before disappearing into the bathroom at the same time as Justin turns and begins entering the male bathroom. The two of them prepare to hit the showers and then head back to their shared apartment for the night. Placing his gym bag atop the bleachers, Justin surveys the bathroom, primarily in the direction of the showers to ensure that there is at least one of them vacant, as another male, appearing to be a junior enters, attired in a black shirt, navy blue shorts and white/maroon Nike sneakers, though Justin pays the man no mind outside of a gentle nod when they make brief eye contact. Noticing that the third shower from the left is vacant, he makes his way toward it, taking off his shirt and revealing his chiseled frame, before placing the shirt atop his bag as the scene fades.
The following morning, the duo are both laying down atop their double bed in a supine position, arms by their side and their blankets loosely fitted over their bodies. A quick glance at the time on their bedside clock informs Justin that it is 5:45 AM, which is usually the time that he gets up and heads to the gym for his early morning session before classes for the day commence at 8. Usually, Lauren would also join him for these sessions, but judging by the fact that her eyes are completely shut and she doesn't even flinch when he pushes the blanket off his own body and atop of hers, that is unlikely to be the case today. Though as a positive, it means that he can actually use the computer and attempt to find a wrestling company for himself and potentially Lauren in peace and without her breathing down his neck as he does so. Placing his feet atop the snow white carpeted floor, he stands up, revealing that at least right now, he is only wearing a pair of silk black boxers before walking over to the closet where his clothing are, though he grabs his phone from the bedside table before doing so.
Quickly grabbing a white Nike t-shirt and black jeans, he slides the shirt over his body and puts the pants on, being mindful not to rudely awake Lauren in the process of doing so. He knows how bitchy she can be when her "beauty sleep" is disturbed, as well as how aggrieved she is with her "bed hair", so doesn't really feel like poking the bear. Especially not this early in the morning and not when he has classes in a mere three hours. Making his way out of the room, he gently closes the door behind him as he makes his way down the narrow hallway that runs up and down the apartment, heading toward the kitchen so that he can prepare breakfast for himself. Glancing slightly downward, he notices a notification that had appeared on his phone in the hours he was asleep, timestamped at 2:25 AM.
Seeing this, Justin furrows his eyebrows as he clicks on the notification, interested in what it is referring to, and if there is a way to get in contact with said promotion and talk about a possible opportunity. He knows Lauren would have likely gotten the same notification on her phone so it's possible she'll bring it up to him after classes, but he also knows that this is something he should be keeping at the back of his mind. After all, it is a promotion that could be his gateway into wrestling, independent of whether or not Lauren joins him for the ride.
Sliding his phone into the pocket of his jeans, he turns and enters the kitchen, noticing that everything is in the same disarray it was when they returned home and hastily made dinner last night, yet he's also not in the mood to clean it, even as he opens the cupboard, realizing that there's only one clean plate left, aside from the ones still in the dishwasher.. Pulling it out, he then calmly walks over to the fridge, opening the door and grabbing the loaf of bread and leftover chicken in order to make himself a sandwich, before noticing a plastic container with Lauren's name written on it in sharpie.
Justin: So, that's where the casserole went...
Humming to himself, he closes the door before hearing the docile tones of his message tone and placing the loaf & chicken on the table before once more extracting his phone from his pocket. This time seeing Ryan's number pop up.
Raising his eyebrows, Justin quickly types out a response before slightly pushing the loaf so that it isn't precariously hanging off the edge of the table.
Turning back to the fridge, he realizes that he forgot to get the butter, facepalming and softly stating "duh" before walking back to the fridge, re-opening it and reaching in for the butter before closing it. Being mindful to time him pulling the butter out with the door closing so as to avoid inflicting a needless injury upon himself. It is then that he notices that Ryan has replied to his message.
Justin softly yet dryly laughs at that. It's the sort of response that he had expected from Ryan, who along with Lauren, had been one of the primary people preaching about wrestling and attempting to coax him into making it and not MMA his primary aspiration. A task that they have so far succeeded in doing.
Placing the butter on the table, he pulls off the lid before wandering over to the drawer and searching for a knife.
Justin: Oh crap. I forgot that we had washed most of them last night.
Closing the drawer, he bends over and opens the dishwasher, plumes of smoke smacking him right in the face as he does, forcing a slight grimace to cross his face. Though it doesn't prevent him from managing to wrap his right hand across the stainless steel handle of a butterknife and extract it, then close it right as his message tone goes off once more.
Justin sighs, making a note of that internally before beginning to slice two pieces of bread for his sandwich and gently laying them atop his white ceramic plate. Being sure to distribute it evenly between both slices and not get any on the crust. It's the same way his mom used to butter the bread when he was growing up and he has kept it imprinted into his memory. Glancing at his phone, he re-reads the message Ryan sent him, raising his left hand and gently stroking his jaw whilst he shoots a darting glance back at the slices of bread, then at his phone.
Placing the phone back into his pocket after pressing send, he returns his focus back to making his breakfast as the scene fades.
Twelve hours later, both Lauren and Justin are seated atop a caramel colored leather chair within the living room of their apartment. Lauren's seat is three feet to the right of Justin's and she is attired in a sky blue t-shirt, black leggings that are tightly fit against her body and black leather boots whereas Justin is wearing a white Nike t-shirt, back Nike shorts and black/neon green Nike sneakers, having decided to play basketball with some of his friends after classes. Six and a half feet in front of him, is a thirty-five inch Tv, which is currently muted but is on CBS in the background. Yet the two of them are simply staring at one another, as if they want to state something but aren't sure on how best to do so, which has led to an awkward silence rising within the air. Quizzically smiling, Lauren simply stares at Justin, who raises his eyebrows in response, blinking twice as he does so.
Lauren: So?
Justin intently stares at her, waiting to see if she is going to continue with her statement, whilst Lauren lets a sharp hum leave her lips, awaiting Justin's own response.
Justin: So what? You know I can't read your mind.
Softly chuckling, Lauren simply shakes her head disappointedly.
Lauren: You know... The stuff about IIW. I thought Ryan had talked to you about that this morning. At least he told me he had.
Justin lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that he should have realized that it would be about that. More specifically, the news that came out this morning pertaining to, seeing as he had mentioned after class that they should talk about it when they got back home.
Justin: Oh. Yeah, he did. Are you going to join them?
Her eyes beginning to flash, she furrowed her eyebrows before slightly pushing her bangs back with her right hand.
Lauren: I'm not too sure. I mean, I like the look of them, but like I told you last night... I want to make sure that it's right. That I'm not just doing this because it's available. You?
He nods.
Justin: Same. I'm definitely interested but want to be sure that this is right and not just me going gung ho into something just because I can. Otherwise, it'll simply blow up in my face and I'll be back at square one. Plus, I couldn't find a way to contact them, even if I did want to say yes right now.
Lauren softly laughs as Justin cocks his head to the right, a slight frown beginning to appear on his face.
Lauren: Luckily, I did. Managed to look them up in class earlier.
Justin gently smirks at her.
Justin: Nice. Guessing you've talked to them?
Shaking her head, Lauren glances across at her phone, which is positioned on the armrest to her left somewhat precariously.
Lauren: Not yet, Don't want to make the call until I'm certain that [[Promotion]] is the right fit. Wouldn't want to commit then realize that it isn't a fit later on. I'd feel bad if that happened.
Justin sternly looks at her, remembering a time she had canceled meeting up with him about two months ago, though he knows better than to broach that topic with her at this very moment in time.
Lauren: I'll likely call them tomorrow though, and see where we go from there. Let them know that I might be interested. Want me to tell them about you as well? Or you wanna call them yourself?
He simply laughs, before nodding in affirmative to the first part of the statement. Let Lauren be the one to "kill two birds with one stone" and that type of thing. Makes it easier for him as well, though he'll most likely ask her for the number anyway later.
Justin: If you're offering... yeah, let them know about my interest too, and give them my number if they want to talk to me.
She nods, making an internal note of that so that she doesn't forget when she makes the call. Shifting her weight from her left leg to her right, she slightly juts out her hip before opening her lips slightly, attempting to recall something. Justin simply glances at her, interested to know what it is she might wish to spout out, or even if the information she is withholding is relevant to him After all, she does have friends aside from him, just like he has friends aside from her and they rarely intersect with one another when it comes to gossip and discourse. At least, outside of their circle of mutual friends, mainly consisting of those who are in their BJJ class and Ryan. Noticing Justin's stare, she gently softens her look, hoping to indicate that it's not directly pertaining to him, which he responds to with a short nod.
Lauren: Ugh...
Sighing, she glances once again at her phone, noticing that the screen is still locked before pushing herself up off the chair, scooping the phone up with her left hand, her eyes regaining contact with Justin's.
Lauren: I'm just gonna go for a walk. Be back in about twenty minutes, okay?
Justin: Alright. I'll clean up.
Lauren: Thanks.
She then strolls toward the door, as Justin leans back against the chair. The possibility of having found the place that he has been searching for. The place that shall provide him with the means of entering the world of professional wrestling and taking the first step into etching his name into its history books resonates within him. Even if he doesn't fully understand the gravity of this decision... at least just yet. Stroking his chin, he glances at the TV screen before taking a deep breath.
This is one of the most important decisions he has had to make in his life, and as such, he doesn't want to find himself in a position where he ends up regretting the decision, or blindly walking into somewhere that ends up not clicking with his desires. It's why he intentionally held off on giving Ryan a direct answer to his query. Both via text and in person when they briefly discussed it in the gym after classes wrapped up for the day.
A blank, soulless expression within his eyes, he continues to stare at the Television, as if to allow the thoughts to marinate and settle. Allow him to grasp just what it means to be in this position. To be on the verge of being able to call himself a professional wrestler and wander the same halls as some of the biggest names in the industry. On the cusp of potentially being able to stake his claim as one of those greats, whilst beating them at something they are bound to have been more passionate about than he was growing up.
Justin: I can't afford to mess this up... I can't afford to allow this to slip through my fingers. I may not be the person they want, but I know that I am the person that they need. That if they are to prove they are the place of opportunity. If anyone can make it big, as they stated during their press conference, then somebody like me would be a perfect fit for them. Somebody who provides them a means to dip their toes into the MMA market and teach them that the skillset doesn't matter. That their sport is merely fancy dressed MMA and I will conquer it. Regardless of who might stand in my way inside the squared circle. No matter what those who are already there might have to say about it, because it'll be irrelevant in the end. The question is, do they fit me? Do they mesh with where I want to be? How do I want my career to play out?
He sighs.
Justin: I guess we'll find out the answer soon enough...
He then rises, making his way toward the kitchen to commence cleaning up, as he promised Lauren he would while she was out walking. The scene then slowly fades.
That's what I have been with professional wrestling.
I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I grew up a wrestling fan, or that I knew ever since I was a baby that this was the path I wanted to take in life, because that would be a lie. In truth, it was only about three months ago when it finally hit me and I understood that it was the sport for me. That it was the path that I should be taking, even if it wasn't the path I had desired. See, I wanted to be either a teacher or a mixed martial artist when I was younger, following in my parents footsteps. Wrestling hadn't even been in my top five, nor had I watched any wrestling at a serious level. Sure, I had seen a few independent shows here and there when dad would take me to them, but I had either been too young or simply there to spend time with him, not focused on the action occurring in the middle of the ring. Even as I got older, I never thought much about wrestling, focusing more on Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai, with a bit of kickboxing here and there. Those were my interests and those were what I thought would take me to where I wanted to be in life.
Namely, the UFC.
In fact, if it weren't for two people, my BJJ instructor and a friend who had been in my BJJ class, I would have laughed at anybody who even considered suggesting becoming a professional wrestler and told you that it was merely another thing people who couldn't cut it in real fights turned to, believing that it would give them a kick of dopamine whilst providing an illusion of capability of actually being able to fight. I'm glad that the two of them set me straight when it comes to that, however, as every time I would even open my mouth with those sentiments, they would either smack me silly or give me a glare that lived up to the phrase "if looks could kill", informing me that I was simply being ignorant and that if I didn't remain silent, then they would show me how wrong I was. I'm glad they did, otherwise I don't think I would have ever realized how much skill and effort truly goes into wrestling and just how vicious the sport can truly be.
Just as I am thankful that once I accepted their stance, how willing they were to sit down and not only talk to me about wrestling and show me the ropes, but how they were willing to help me in terms of learning the nuances of wrestling and work with me in the ring so that I could experience it first hand. They didn't have to, but they did. It was those sessions that began to plant the seeds inside of me that maybe this was the right field. That this may be the calling, the direction I was destined to take, as much as my head and gut were screaming that no, MMA and the UFC was still what I should be angling toward, or the faint sound of my heart attempting to remind me of the statement I made to my mom about wanting to be a teacher as she had been.
Yet even right now, I cannot truly explain just what that feeling was.
Nor can I fully explain it. All I know is that it was there. Lingering and a small yet persistent voice, whispering that they were right. That it would be wrestling and not martial arts that would provide me with the best avenue toward what I wished to achieve in life. A voice that would become louder and louder over time, to the point where it was figuratively screaming internally and quite literally screaming externally, courtesy of the aforementioned instructor and classmate. To the point where even my dad, who had been insistent on me entering MMA if I were to participate in sport, had to agree with me when he turned up to one of my training sessions. By that point, I had slowly but surely begun to warm to the idea of becoming a wrestler. To step inside of the squared circle instead of the octagon and ply my trade there. After all, a lot of the skills and technique would transition over and I could even divert to MMA if I so chose, just as long as I had given wrestling a shot. Keeping MMA in my back pocket if that is what I wished to do, in case it turns out that this ultimately isn't the right career path for me. Same with the ability to head back to college and focus once more on education and becoming a teacher. After all, providing yourself with more options and having back up plans in case your first one goes awry is always beneficial, otherwise I know that I would simply find myself becoming just another lost soul, drifting from place to place and simply meandering. Loitering without a true purpose, something that my parents repeatedly informed me was not the way to approach life throughout my formative years. It'd be doing myself a disservice.
Hopefully I won't need to turn to those back up plans, however, and wrestling truly does show itself to be the one. To be the best fit for what I can personally offer within the sport Both inside and outside of the ring. I trust my instructor and my classmate, probably more than I truly should at times, yet I know that in the end, the only person who can truly figure out the best route for me to take in life. In my career... is myself. As it should be, for I am the one who shall define my own path and prove that even though I may not have the lineage or the prestige of some of the sports greats. Even though I may not have the history in wrestling as some of those who came before me, or who are in the ring presently or even may follow my entry into the sport, I more than have the capability and the skillset to match anybody who might step up against me between the ropes. All that is left for me to do now, is find a place to call home and dip my toes into, thus taking the first step into the world of professional wrestling.
Where will that be? Only time will tell.---
The scene opens to the interior of the dingy, smells of sweat and body odor gymnasium at Syracuse University, there the aroma emitting from the facilities is especially pungent, to the point where if a person unfamiliar with the scent were to walk in, they would immediately recoil and scrunch up their nose upon their first sniff of it. Scanning around the gym, it can be seen that there are about twenty to twenty-five people, all of whom are students participating in various workouts, from the bench press [[both the incline and standard versions]] to the squat rack or the hammer strength machine and the indoor cycle bikes. Even the barbells and dumbbells, the vast majority of the occupants are partaking in some form of workout catered to their needs and desires.
At the back of the gym, there are a few patrons seated atop the bleachers and glistening with sweat, having recently finished their workouts for the day and preparing to "hit the showers'' before heading either back to their dorms or apartments for the night. About three and a half feet right of center atop those bleachers, sit two people. A man and a woman, both of whom appear to either be freshmen or sophomores, with the male being attired in a black under armor shirt, black under armor workout pants and black under armor sneakers and the female in a black Nike sports bra, black leggings and black Adidas sneakers. The pair also have a white gym towel draped across their shoulders and neck, whilst also having slightly staggered breathing due to the intensity of their workout session. Despite that, the two glance at one another, soft, joyful laughter leaving their mouths.
Male: We should really do this more often. You know how to force me to take it to that next level and honestly, I need that. God knows what it's like during classes with Ryan.
More laughing ensues, as the woman nods her head in agreement with that sentiment.
Woman: Tell me about it. I love the man to bits but sometimes it feels as if he wants to take it easy on us. Plus, with you, I know it'll be a lot more fun... and not just in terms of the workout.
The woman winks at him, as he grins like a Cheshire cat, knowing exactly what she means with those comments. A sentiment that he agrees with, in more ways than one, even if he places his index finger atop his pursed lips in a shushing manner.
Male: Not where everybody can hear us, Lauren. When we get home though...
Lauren looks at him, slightly rolling her eyes as she leans her head back, a wryly smiling.
Lauren: I wouldn't have taken you as the type to get embarrassed, Justin. I guess there is a marshmallow heart inside of there after all.
Justin glares at her, attempting to affirm whether or not she truly made that claim about him.
Justin: I'm not. You know what people here can be like, especially when it comes to gossip. Remember the stuff about Rachael and Stefan? How quickly that shit spread around the campus?
Lauren sighs calmly, tilting her head forward and softening her look toward her boyfriend, her mind flickering to when she had heard about that gossip in class from one of her classmates, even as Stefan and Rachael attempted to keep their relationship under wraps at the time, before admitting it following all the speculation and rumors.
Lauren: True enough, I guess... I don't see anything to be ashamed of though. Why shouldn't we parade it around. It's not like anyone is going to try to bully us or fuck with our relationship, seeing as they know if they did, then we'd make sure they regretted it.
Justin can't help but heartily chuckle at that, seeing as it is true. They both have training in martial arts [[primarily the disciplines of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai]] and wrestling and can more than hold their own if they are required to. Not that either of them want it to get to that point where it would be required outside of classes or their respective fields, as per the principles of self-defense they agreed upon with their coach. So, it's safe to assume that if anyone were to try and throw their relationship in their face, they would see that as a means to pull it out of the bag and teach them a lesson, so to speak.
Justin: Yeah, but remember what we promised Ryan. I don't think either of us should want it to get to that point.
Lauren: Okay, "dad".
She mockingly sticks her tongue out at him before sardonically smiling as Justin gently shakes his head, just hoping for the topic to change at this point. Or even to go and take a shower as the stench emitting from his body appears to be even affecting him at this point. Noticing this, Lauren internally concedes that maybe she should take a shower herself, as she doesn't want to get into the car smelling like an armpit. Plus, the clothing feels as if it is sticking to her, such is the sweat seeping through its fabric as it runs down her skin and face, even causing her makeup to appear as if it has smeared.
Lauren: Anyway, you found a place you want to sign up for?
Justin looks at her, confused as to what she is referring to.
Justin: Huh? You talking about wrestling? Martial Arts? Or something completely different? Please enlighten the class.
Playfully punching him, Lauren beams warmly.
Lauren: Wrestling, silly!
She gleefully remarks, as he raises his eyebrows and lets out an audible "oh" as if it has just clicked in his mind. The old reliable lightbulb went off inside of his head.
Justin: Oh. Nah, not yet. Seen a few places online, but not sure on them right now. Want to make sure I find the right place and don't just choose somewhere just because they are a wrestling company, you know? Otherwise it'll simply feel like a waste and something I'm doing for the sake of doing, when that's not the intent at all.
Lauren responds with a "uh huh" as she makes direct eye contact with him, her stare delivered through half-lidded eyes.
Justin: You found somewhere?
She gently shakes her head.
Lauren: Nah. Same as you, seen a few places but want to make sure the fit is right.
Sighing, she gives him a slightly disappointed look.
Lauren: I was hoping you would have found somewhere, so that I wouldn't have to.
Justin's lips partially open as his nose wrinkles at the sound of those words as she gently cocks her head to the left, her smile sweet in nature and her eyes open wide, as if she was a child who was attempting to coax her parents into buying her the most popular fashion accessory or a doll that was popular within her school. Raising his right hand, Justin gently places it atop his face, attempting to hide the grimace that has arisen across his face, even as he attempts to mask it with a smirk.
Justin: Oh, really? Maybe then I'll take my sweet little time and let you squirm then.
He then ponders that, chuckling as an expression of dread appears across his companion's face.
Justin: Yeah, that sounds like it'd be fun actually.
Lauren gasps, as Justin continues chuckling. Appearing to enjoy the change of emotions from Lauren, who's stomach has slowly begun to turn into a knot.
Lauren: You wouldn't...
Justin: I would.
His voice completely deadpan, Lauren simply pivots on her heels, picking her gym bag up in a singular swoop and begins to walk off, heading in the direction of the showers, frowning as she curls her upper lip. Even if she knows that he is messing around, she loves nothing more than to pout and guilt-trip him on occasions like this, in a somewhat twisted fashion. Such is the nature of their relationship. She'll likely be the one finding the company anyway, seeing as she at least has some knowledge of where to look... being the "wrestling fan" out of the two. Even if it ends up just being for herself who joins the company. Picking up his own gym bag, Justin decides to follow her lead and take a shower himself, as it is seven thirty PM and he'd rather not stay out too late at the gym, lest he allow himself to be overcome by the scent and smell arising around him, no matter how desensitized he might be to it. Plus, he is also Lauren's ride to and from the gym so if she wants to leave, then he knows it's best if he does the same.
Justin: I'll meet you at the car.
Turning and entering the bathroom, Lauren slightly turns her head in his direction and nods, acknowledging his words before disappearing into the bathroom at the same time as Justin turns and begins entering the male bathroom. The two of them prepare to hit the showers and then head back to their shared apartment for the night. Placing his gym bag atop the bleachers, Justin surveys the bathroom, primarily in the direction of the showers to ensure that there is at least one of them vacant, as another male, appearing to be a junior enters, attired in a black shirt, navy blue shorts and white/maroon Nike sneakers, though Justin pays the man no mind outside of a gentle nod when they make brief eye contact. Noticing that the third shower from the left is vacant, he makes his way toward it, taking off his shirt and revealing his chiseled frame, before placing the shirt atop his bag as the scene fades.
The following morning, the duo are both laying down atop their double bed in a supine position, arms by their side and their blankets loosely fitted over their bodies. A quick glance at the time on their bedside clock informs Justin that it is 5:45 AM, which is usually the time that he gets up and heads to the gym for his early morning session before classes for the day commence at 8. Usually, Lauren would also join him for these sessions, but judging by the fact that her eyes are completely shut and she doesn't even flinch when he pushes the blanket off his own body and atop of hers, that is unlikely to be the case today. Though as a positive, it means that he can actually use the computer and attempt to find a wrestling company for himself and potentially Lauren in peace and without her breathing down his neck as he does so. Placing his feet atop the snow white carpeted floor, he stands up, revealing that at least right now, he is only wearing a pair of silk black boxers before walking over to the closet where his clothing are, though he grabs his phone from the bedside table before doing so.
Quickly grabbing a white Nike t-shirt and black jeans, he slides the shirt over his body and puts the pants on, being mindful not to rudely awake Lauren in the process of doing so. He knows how bitchy she can be when her "beauty sleep" is disturbed, as well as how aggrieved she is with her "bed hair", so doesn't really feel like poking the bear. Especially not this early in the morning and not when he has classes in a mere three hours. Making his way out of the room, he gently closes the door behind him as he makes his way down the narrow hallway that runs up and down the apartment, heading toward the kitchen so that he can prepare breakfast for himself. Glancing slightly downward, he notices a notification that had appeared on his phone in the hours he was asleep, timestamped at 2:25 AM.
IIW to scout far and wide for new talent.
It was announced earlier today during a press conference hosted by IIW that they would be casting their net far and wide in order to find new talent to add to their ranks and give them an infusion of youth. It was also stated that they would be actively scouting the independent scene as well as collegiately and high school wise to try and find talents they can develop and help find their way in the industry.
It was announced earlier today during a press conference hosted by IIW that they would be casting their net far and wide in order to find new talent to add to their ranks and give them an infusion of youth. It was also stated that they would be actively scouting the independent scene as well as collegiately and high school wise to try and find talents they can develop and help find their way in the industry.
Seeing this, Justin furrows his eyebrows as he clicks on the notification, interested in what it is referring to, and if there is a way to get in contact with said promotion and talk about a possible opportunity. He knows Lauren would have likely gotten the same notification on her phone so it's possible she'll bring it up to him after classes, but he also knows that this is something he should be keeping at the back of his mind. After all, it is a promotion that could be his gateway into wrestling, independent of whether or not Lauren joins him for the ride.
Sliding his phone into the pocket of his jeans, he turns and enters the kitchen, noticing that everything is in the same disarray it was when they returned home and hastily made dinner last night, yet he's also not in the mood to clean it, even as he opens the cupboard, realizing that there's only one clean plate left, aside from the ones still in the dishwasher.. Pulling it out, he then calmly walks over to the fridge, opening the door and grabbing the loaf of bread and leftover chicken in order to make himself a sandwich, before noticing a plastic container with Lauren's name written on it in sharpie.
Justin: So, that's where the casserole went...
Humming to himself, he closes the door before hearing the docile tones of his message tone and placing the loaf & chicken on the table before once more extracting his phone from his pocket. This time seeing Ryan's number pop up.
You see the article from earlier?
Raising his eyebrows, Justin quickly types out a response before slightly pushing the loaf so that it isn't precariously hanging off the edge of the table.
Which one? the one about IIW?
Turning back to the fridge, he realizes that he forgot to get the butter, facepalming and softly stating "duh" before walking back to the fridge, re-opening it and reaching in for the butter before closing it. Being mindful to time him pulling the butter out with the door closing so as to avoid inflicting a needless injury upon himself. It is then that he notices that Ryan has replied to his message.
Yeah. It sounds perfect for you. Especially seeing as you've been looking for a place to sink your teeth into and navigate your way through the industry.
Justin softly yet dryly laughs at that. It's the sort of response that he had expected from Ryan, who along with Lauren, had been one of the primary people preaching about wrestling and attempting to coax him into making it and not MMA his primary aspiration. A task that they have so far succeeded in doing.
You think so?
Placing the butter on the table, he pulls off the lid before wandering over to the drawer and searching for a knife.
Justin: Oh crap. I forgot that we had washed most of them last night.
Closing the drawer, he bends over and opens the dishwasher, plumes of smoke smacking him right in the face as he does, forcing a slight grimace to cross his face. Though it doesn't prevent him from managing to wrap his right hand across the stainless steel handle of a butterknife and extract it, then close it right as his message tone goes off once more.
Yeah. I think you should take the opportunity, but it's up to you, man.
Justin sighs, making a note of that internally before beginning to slice two pieces of bread for his sandwich and gently laying them atop his white ceramic plate. Being sure to distribute it evenly between both slices and not get any on the crust. It's the same way his mom used to butter the bread when he was growing up and he has kept it imprinted into his memory. Glancing at his phone, he re-reads the message Ryan sent him, raising his left hand and gently stroking his jaw whilst he shoots a darting glance back at the slices of bread, then at his phone.
We'll see. I'll talk to Lauren about it, but I don't know at this point...
Placing the phone back into his pocket after pressing send, he returns his focus back to making his breakfast as the scene fades.
Twelve hours later, both Lauren and Justin are seated atop a caramel colored leather chair within the living room of their apartment. Lauren's seat is three feet to the right of Justin's and she is attired in a sky blue t-shirt, black leggings that are tightly fit against her body and black leather boots whereas Justin is wearing a white Nike t-shirt, back Nike shorts and black/neon green Nike sneakers, having decided to play basketball with some of his friends after classes. Six and a half feet in front of him, is a thirty-five inch Tv, which is currently muted but is on CBS in the background. Yet the two of them are simply staring at one another, as if they want to state something but aren't sure on how best to do so, which has led to an awkward silence rising within the air. Quizzically smiling, Lauren simply stares at Justin, who raises his eyebrows in response, blinking twice as he does so.
Lauren: So?
Justin intently stares at her, waiting to see if she is going to continue with her statement, whilst Lauren lets a sharp hum leave her lips, awaiting Justin's own response.
Justin: So what? You know I can't read your mind.
Softly chuckling, Lauren simply shakes her head disappointedly.
Lauren: You know... The stuff about IIW. I thought Ryan had talked to you about that this morning. At least he told me he had.
Justin lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that he should have realized that it would be about that. More specifically, the news that came out this morning pertaining to, seeing as he had mentioned after class that they should talk about it when they got back home.
Justin: Oh. Yeah, he did. Are you going to join them?
Her eyes beginning to flash, she furrowed her eyebrows before slightly pushing her bangs back with her right hand.
Lauren: I'm not too sure. I mean, I like the look of them, but like I told you last night... I want to make sure that it's right. That I'm not just doing this because it's available. You?
He nods.
Justin: Same. I'm definitely interested but want to be sure that this is right and not just me going gung ho into something just because I can. Otherwise, it'll simply blow up in my face and I'll be back at square one. Plus, I couldn't find a way to contact them, even if I did want to say yes right now.
Lauren softly laughs as Justin cocks his head to the right, a slight frown beginning to appear on his face.
Lauren: Luckily, I did. Managed to look them up in class earlier.
Justin gently smirks at her.
Justin: Nice. Guessing you've talked to them?
Shaking her head, Lauren glances across at her phone, which is positioned on the armrest to her left somewhat precariously.
Lauren: Not yet, Don't want to make the call until I'm certain that [[Promotion]] is the right fit. Wouldn't want to commit then realize that it isn't a fit later on. I'd feel bad if that happened.
Justin sternly looks at her, remembering a time she had canceled meeting up with him about two months ago, though he knows better than to broach that topic with her at this very moment in time.
Lauren: I'll likely call them tomorrow though, and see where we go from there. Let them know that I might be interested. Want me to tell them about you as well? Or you wanna call them yourself?
He simply laughs, before nodding in affirmative to the first part of the statement. Let Lauren be the one to "kill two birds with one stone" and that type of thing. Makes it easier for him as well, though he'll most likely ask her for the number anyway later.
Justin: If you're offering... yeah, let them know about my interest too, and give them my number if they want to talk to me.
She nods, making an internal note of that so that she doesn't forget when she makes the call. Shifting her weight from her left leg to her right, she slightly juts out her hip before opening her lips slightly, attempting to recall something. Justin simply glances at her, interested to know what it is she might wish to spout out, or even if the information she is withholding is relevant to him After all, she does have friends aside from him, just like he has friends aside from her and they rarely intersect with one another when it comes to gossip and discourse. At least, outside of their circle of mutual friends, mainly consisting of those who are in their BJJ class and Ryan. Noticing Justin's stare, she gently softens her look, hoping to indicate that it's not directly pertaining to him, which he responds to with a short nod.
Lauren: Ugh...
Sighing, she glances once again at her phone, noticing that the screen is still locked before pushing herself up off the chair, scooping the phone up with her left hand, her eyes regaining contact with Justin's.
Lauren: I'm just gonna go for a walk. Be back in about twenty minutes, okay?
Justin: Alright. I'll clean up.
Lauren: Thanks.
She then strolls toward the door, as Justin leans back against the chair. The possibility of having found the place that he has been searching for. The place that shall provide him with the means of entering the world of professional wrestling and taking the first step into etching his name into its history books resonates within him. Even if he doesn't fully understand the gravity of this decision... at least just yet. Stroking his chin, he glances at the TV screen before taking a deep breath.
This is one of the most important decisions he has had to make in his life, and as such, he doesn't want to find himself in a position where he ends up regretting the decision, or blindly walking into somewhere that ends up not clicking with his desires. It's why he intentionally held off on giving Ryan a direct answer to his query. Both via text and in person when they briefly discussed it in the gym after classes wrapped up for the day.
A blank, soulless expression within his eyes, he continues to stare at the Television, as if to allow the thoughts to marinate and settle. Allow him to grasp just what it means to be in this position. To be on the verge of being able to call himself a professional wrestler and wander the same halls as some of the biggest names in the industry. On the cusp of potentially being able to stake his claim as one of those greats, whilst beating them at something they are bound to have been more passionate about than he was growing up.
Justin: I can't afford to mess this up... I can't afford to allow this to slip through my fingers. I may not be the person they want, but I know that I am the person that they need. That if they are to prove they are the place of opportunity. If anyone can make it big, as they stated during their press conference, then somebody like me would be a perfect fit for them. Somebody who provides them a means to dip their toes into the MMA market and teach them that the skillset doesn't matter. That their sport is merely fancy dressed MMA and I will conquer it. Regardless of who might stand in my way inside the squared circle. No matter what those who are already there might have to say about it, because it'll be irrelevant in the end. The question is, do they fit me? Do they mesh with where I want to be? How do I want my career to play out?
He sighs.
Justin: I guess we'll find out the answer soon enough...
He then rises, making his way toward the kitchen to commence cleaning up, as he promised Lauren he would while she was out walking. The scene then slowly fades.