AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I slam the promoter’s door.
So much for the amateur league. They call it amateur for a reason.
I figured my new character would be an easy sell to the B team. What the hell do I know?
Onto to bigger fish. Man, I could eat.
I’m sure Cheyanne hasn’t clued into my plans for her, which is just as well. One argument with industry insiders today is enough. Maybe I’m lost as to my career, but I know what she needs.
My footsteps out of the arena are lighter than I thought they’d be leaving Mike’s office and his basket full of no’s. Somehow, winning in Cheyanne’s camp is a bigger priority for me. That’s not something an orc says every day.
I smile, get into my car, and hoof it to make it to meet Cheyanne for dinner.
“She’s going to need more than just a few new moves as an arch-hero. Chey will have to learn to perform more aggressively. Oh, my God, now I’m talking to myself?” I know better than to tell Cheyanne I was testing the waters out for her with promoters, but at least I can make some suggestions for her next show. I’m just not sure yet what those suggestions should be.
I continue the self-talk. What the hell?
“Prob is, she can’t perform as anyone but Archimedes under her current contract. That is a problem that needs a workaround.”
My mind’s eye wanders back to the other day when I had her perform for me. Her moves, the passion. She has it all. She’s merely a diamond in the rough.
I wander back to thoughts of my own failing career.
“Damn that Marty. I slight him, and he goes atomic on the revenge and calls in favors to blackball me all over town. Leprechauns and their penchant for grudges. Right, it’s the old if I can’t have you, no one will bullshit. And so, no events like I planned. No way to sell my plan to agents or promoters. Not for me, not for Cheyanne. I’m temporarily toast, as a fighter and trainer.”
Testing the waters for both of us is a wash. For me, I at least parted ways with my old trainer, but that seems to have bitten me in the ass since Marty warned everyone off working with me. But Cheyanne needs to be even more careful – she’s still under contract by Raucous and both the head honchos there and her real trainer, Mac, will be pissed if they catch her moonlighting.
Not that I can get her a gig anyway, not with Marty’s tricks. Besides, the big wigs have memories like squirrels. You’re only as powerful as your last bulk of ticket sales.
Training Chey the other day got me juiced. I want more of that. And I know if I work with her, Joseph will be on my side. And with his new franchise monopoly, that could be a good thing down the road. New franchise. New contract. New career. New life.
If I play my cards right.
Once I get to the restaurant, I can’t help staring at Chey as she walks up the path. What a beauty. Muscles and curves in all the right places. Then I shake it off, remembering this is just supposed to be a casual, friendly meal.
During dinner — roasted wild boar, my favorite — Chey more or less assures me again that she has a feeling she’ll be able to get her dad on my side, no matter how pissed off Marty is. I figure helping Cheyanne with her own career and being on her good side can’t hurt that matter, so I plan to keep at it.
But I sure as hell breathe better during the meal, for more reasons than one. Her dad has more pull than Marty ever could. I don’t totally understand why she doesn’t just go work for him as Disastra, and nothing she says at the dinner really helps explain it.
“To gel your performance, you have to execute your new moves in front of an audience,” I advise her. “Not as Archimedes. As Disastra. Your passion lives there, and it’s that which will sell it to your fans. You need your father’s help.”
Cheyanne shakes her head. “Oh, no. I’m not running to Dad every time I screw up. I have to prove I can do this on my own. You and everyone else say I need to put my mom to rest and with her, Archimedes. So why would I repeat the same mistake with my dad? It’s about time I succeeded or screwed up as my own woman.”
“Yeah, sure, I get that, but –”
“But nothing. Ro, maybe I’m one of those wrestlers who strikes pay-dirt on her first character re-write? It’s happened before. And maybe going all-in with Disastra at this point is too much. The alter ego is full-on ice cold. Black ink flows through Disastra’s veins. Maybe injecting some of her moves as Archimedes is a way to safely test the waters.”
I lean forward at the dinner table. “Chey, first you want a full character change. Now, you’re talking about a safe bleed-in of moves on your old persona. What do you really want? You can’t have both. You know, in your heart of hearts, that won’t work.”
“It’ll work. Why not? No, my mind is settled. I want to inject some badass moves into Archimedes’ repertoire. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
Cheyanne grabs her wine glass and takes a big gulp.
I grab a boar hind leg and gnaw.
Neither one of us knows how to make sense of the other.
* * *
