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Cheyanne
My phone rings.
“Hey, Liam. I had a feeling you’d be calling today,” I answer when I pick up.
“Hey, how’s it going? You ready for tonight?”
I let out a sigh. Not one of exasperation, more so nervousness. “Yeah, applying the final touches.”
“It’s your first…”
“Yeah, the first time as Disastra. First time fighting with Camie, too.”
“It’s been two solid weeks of prep, Chey. You’re ready.”
“Yeah, and my moves went over well with the crowds as Archimedes. Got some decent reviews in the WrestleMania mag. That has to be a good sign. I’m pumped. This is the perfect way of handling everything. My need for change. My loyalty towards Mom. People fought me at every turn. But this will prove to them I was right all along.”
“Sure.”
Silence. It rings in my ears.
“You’re thinking they were backhanded, huh? Comparing my new moves to when I teamed up with Mom.”
“And the comparisons.”
“You mean Archimedes brand back in the day and now?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t have to say more. I know Ronan shares his thoughts even if he doesn’t voice them. And it’s true. The comparison is there – the younger wrestler me versus today. In the wrestling world, everyone knows comparisons can be the death knell of a brand. I keep that kernel of wisdom to myself.
“This is still just because you think I should be clueing in Mac on my secret training,” I say, changing the subject slightly.
“Look, I’m not going to change my mind on that. If your trainer doesn’t know why, why have a trainer? All this secrecy is bad, Chey.”
I glance down at the reviews. These have to talk better than anything I could say to convince my dad, Ronan, or anyone else. Then lies will no longer be needed.
I move around the room, donning the last of my costume. I’m still slow at applying the menacing eye makeup before I don the mask, which is good. I need time to think.
“Mac would tell on me with Dad, sure as guns. He’d drop a dime on me without a thought. He’d drop a dime on Dad. I’m sure of it. Then, that’ll start the whole ball rolling. One I don’t want. The last thing I need is Dad on my case.”
“Dad is not your enemy, Chey. He’s good at what he does. He’d back you to the hilt if you just let him.”
“Have you seen Ronan lately? You know the guy has got some great moves, too. The industry stars change. The industry changes.” I try my damndest to change the freaking subject and get this obsession off of me.
“I chatted with him the other day. He told me who he’d pick for his first line-up with Fool’s Gold. Impressive. At least he and I think the same way regarding talent. He’d love to sign Ronan,” I continue.
“You were sniffing around him, huh? Testing the wind, so to speak?”
Genius me. Keep obsessing about Ronan. There ya go.
I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess.”
“But he said Ronan, right? Not Lawless.”
There’s a long silence while I try to make out what he means by that. “What?” I finally ask.
“I’m just saying, he might be interested in Ronan. He’s a hell of a wrestler, everyone knows that. He’s big money, and he’d probably be big money in a new character, but he’s not saying he wants his Lawless schtick anymore.”
