She sat back in the chair the moon dancing along her skin through the crack in the curtains. Her hair pulled back from her bare face, her curvaceous body clad in a simple Doors t-shirt and a pair of shorts as she sat in the chair in her locker room, alone, in the dark, in the silence, just her, her thoughts and a bottle of Hennessy. Sometimes in life it takes a single action or the action of another before you will take a step back and realise what it is you have become. She sniggered to herself, picking up the bottle and lowering the bitter alcohol down her throat hoping that this foreign emotion she was feeling would be washed away in a blurry cloud of alcohol induced numbness.

Usually tonight would be the night she hit the town for pre-match celebrations but for some reason tonight she wanted to sit on her own and remember the twenty three years that had lead to this point in her life. She assumed all the drama in UWF was somehow reflecting off her own mood. It was unusual that other people’s drama would have any effect on her considering she rarely gave a fuck about other people’s business. She assumed this might have something to do with her father’s death amongst other things. She stood up from the chair and grabbed the bottle of Hennessy. She looked across the room at the clock, 2am. It was later than she had thought but she needed to get out of this room. She felt suffocated like she was drowning in her own self pity. She slipped on a pair of trainers and began to make her way to the door not knowing where she was going or what she would do but knowing that she couldn’t bare to stay here a second longer. She pulled the locker room door open and walked out on to the corridor closing it gently behind her. It was then she realised just how drunk she actually was as she stumbled slightly trying to regain her balance. She looked down at the bottle of cognac she only now noticed that it was half empty. She raised an eyebrow at the bottle, wondering how she could have drank so much without even noticing and where had the last six hours of her life disappeared to?

She walked past the lines of locker room with stars names on the front. Stryfe, Icon, Bobby Stanton, JC, doors and doors of the wrestling World’s most elite but yet each door held its own secret, just like hers. A man with a broken heart, a man afraid of failing, a woman afraid of making the wrong choices. They all had their emotions, they had their stories. She wondered what it was they thought he story was. The determined cold hearted stunner that would stop at nothing to get what she wanted but there was more to her than a façade. More to her than what they saw from the outside looking in. She was just like them, she was confused, she was hurt, and she wouldn’t let herself fail. She lifted the bottle to her naturally red lips again, indulging in the bitter taste, helping her forget for one moment in time what she was feeling on the inside. Then she reached a door, a door that brought back memories, a door that brought a smile to her face. She stopped for a second staring up at the name.

Kendell Smith: “Gary Reece…”

She laughed to herself. It had been a lifetime since they last faced each other. She had become a different person, a different wrestler. She was now a woman who could step in the ring and take down UWF legends when her career calls for it. She was no longer the stupid little girl that would rather sit backstage getting drunk and screwing hall of famers then having actual success herself. She had her eye on one goal and it wasn’t the same goal she had the summer before. He was the only person who had ever beaten her in the UWF ring but he had beaten the old her, the woman who was used to taking on wrestlers like Kandy and Blair. He wouldn’t know what hit him in the ring tomorrow when she destroyed him for his title. When she first came back to UWF it was all about the title, it was all about defining herself as one of the greatest but now, now it was about revenge. She wanted to beat Gary Reece within an inch of his life, to prove to him that she is not the walk over he assumes she is. It took him nine tries to beat Stryfe, it took her simply one. So she would let him concentrate on getting his leg over JC, after all wasn’t that what he seemed to care about the most? Gary Reece was no stranger to the women on the UWF roster. He was what Kendell called a ‘serial dater’. It was like his life was defined by whom he had beside him.

She leaned drunkenly in against the door laughing and running her finger along his name.

Kendell Smith: “What’s wrong Gary? Are you afraid of being all alone? Do you have to be in love with someone on the roster before you actually feel like a man?”

She began laughing again, spilling some of her alcohol on the floor as she stumbled. She put her finger to her lips, smiling and stifling her laugh as she began to whisper.

Kendell Smith: “Well let me tell you a secret Mr. Reece. You’ll never be any woman’s first choice…. Shhhh…. Don’t tell.”

She lifted the bottle to her lips again, spilling some of it on the front of her t-shirt the smile leaving her face as she leaned back against the wall sliding down so that she was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, the door to Gary’s locker room only inches from her.

Kendell Smith: “You see Gary in a way you’re like me, obviously not in the good ways but in the bad ways. They’ll fuck you then they’ll leave you. You’re not the type people love. Sure, they’ll tell you they care about you, they may even tell you they love you but there will always be somebody else, somebody better than you, somebody they love more. You’re just the stop over until that something better comes along. Marissa saw it, Jessie saw it and in time JC will see it. But that’s where our similarities end, because you go looking for it Gary, you go looking for love, you fear being alone, but me? I cherish it. I learned a long time ago I’d never be the woman that would be brought home to the family so what do I do? I use it to my advantage and it makes me stronger. There is no time for love or being in love when you need to be at your best, it only makes you weak.”

She sniggered, closing her eyes and downing the cognac again, letting it wash away memories. Truth was she had never been in love; in fact she had never even been close to being in love because as soon as she felt herself feeling anything more than an attraction for a man she moved on. She left or she found away to make him leave. She wasn’t in the game of being hurt by a member of the opposite sex, she believed that love was an emotion made up by hallmark to sell valentine’s cards and like cattle to the slaughter both men and women fell for it everyday of their pathetic lives. Even the strongest fell to their knees for love. It made Kendell sick.

Kendell Smith: “In the words of Chuck Palahniuk himself ‘Love is bullshit. Emotion is bullshit. I am a rock. A jerk. I'm an uncaring asshole and proud of it.’”

She raised her bottle as if toasting to her own cold heart before lowering it back and washing away the last of her emotion.

Kendell Smith: “Hitman… what a gay pseudonym.”

She struggled to push herself up from the floor, stumbling and falling back down on her ass with a thump. She mumbled something and proceeded to sit there drinking her cognac and leaning back against the wall outside Gary’s locker room.

Kendell Smith: “Maybe that’s why you stalk the female roster, trying to hide your homosexual tendencies.”

She was so drunk she had resorted to juvenile name calling but she could care less the way she felt right now, she could care less how she appeared to the rest of the World. Today was a day for self pity and self realisation, a day to get toe up and forget the rest of the World until the cold sober light of day arrived. Once again she tried to push herself up from the floor, this time succeeding as she clung to the wall for support, making sure she kept a tight grip on the bottle. She took one more look at the name on the door and smiled.

Kendell Smith: “Tomorrow night my friend, tomorrow night I will re-write history. No longer will I fall at the hands of you, a mediocre wrestler, your time is up and your belt is mine.”

With a snigger she walked away from the door, not sure exactly where she was wandering to but wandering through the hallways none the less. She still wasn’t ready to go back to her locker room and to be honest she was so drunk now she wasn’t sure if she could find her way back. The hallways where cold, and even through her cocoon of drunkenness she could feel the sting of the cold air against her bar arms and legs. Before she knew it she was standing just inches from where she would be standing in front of a crowd of thousands on Monday night. She stepped out on to the stage of the arena and looked down at the ring. The arena looked so much bigger when it was empty. Big and silent she felt slightly intimidated as she stood there taking in her surroundings. She began making her way towards the ring slowly. Looking around her she felt her sadness slip away as she realised then and there that she was in the company of the one thing in this World she actually did love and the one thing in the World that loved her back and never let her down.

Kendell Smith: “Wrestling…”

She smiled to herself as she continued walking down the ramp, in the back of her mind hearing the screaming crowd, seeing their faces as she held up her arms in victory, picturing what it would be like to stand on the ropes and hold the gold of the undisputed title in the air and know that she had earned it without anybody else’s help, that she had done it on her own. She eventually made her way to the side of the ring. She ran her nails along the fresh mat picturing herself there tomorrow, holding down Gary Reece, causing a look of uncontrollable agony on his face until he’s begging for release. She placed the bottle of Hennessy down on the mat, still wobbly in the knees from the amount of alcohol she consumed but pulling herself onto the side of the ring, gripping onto the ropes and sliding herself between them so that she was inside the ring where she would be fighting tomorrow. She plopped herself down on the mat, grabbing the Hennessy again and smiling.

Kendell Smith: “I know there's a place you walked, where love falls from the trees, my heart is like a broken cup, I only feel right on my knees….”

She sang at the top of her lungs as she continued to polish off the end of the bottle. Her voice echoing around the large arena, her laugh loud and booming.

Kendell Smith: “Whoooooo are you who who who who….”

She fell back on the mat so that she was now lying facing the ceiling of the large building as she continued to sing to herself.

Kendell Smith: “The next Undisputed Champion!”

She pushed herself up from the mat, wobbling slightly and walking over to the turnbuckle. With unusual strength for a woman of her size she pulled her self up onto the turnbuckle holding her arms high in the air as she shouted.

Kendell Smith: “I am the Champion! Let it be known! Gary Reece your reign of mediocrity will come to and end. Your record makes UWF look bad. How can a man with so little skill have accomplished such things? I can only assume it’s because you give better head than me. Bravo! Bravo!”

She began clapping her hands, as if she had some sort of audience instead of talking to ten thousand empty seats.

Kendell Smith: “Just call me Dear Fuckin Deirdre! UWF I am here to cure all your problems!! I’m here to put you on the road in the right direction. Hitman don’t embarrass yourself by stepping into a ring with somebody so out of your league, and leave JC alone, you’ll never be Stryfe!”

She began to laugh uncontrollably like only a drunken person can, looking down at the floor before raising her arms back in the air.

Kendell Smith: “I’m tired of fucking soap operas. That’s what has me the way I am tonight! Fucking facing Gary Reece and his ridiculously complicated love life has me thinking to myself…. Oh my God Kendell? You’re not falling in love with everything that fucking blinks in your direction? Could it be that there is something wrong with you? But NO! There’s nothing wrong with me! I realise that now. It may have taken six hours of self pity and a bottle of Hennessy for me to come to the realisation but I am strong, not heartless.”

As she stood on the turnbuckle ranting uncontrollably and making absolutely no sense to anybody but herself she was unaware that she had an audience as a man stood in the back of the arena listening to every word with a smile on his face, amused by the beautiful woman losing control in the ring.

Kendell Smith: “It wont happen again! This ring is my ring! It’s my bitch!”

The man raised an eyebrow listening to her speak, a snigger escaping him. She climbed down from the turnbuckle still muttering obscenities to herself and picking up the bottle of Hennessy, emptying the last of it down her throat. She pulled the bottle back from her mouth, looking at it as if wondering why no more was coming out of it. She turned it upside down, shaking it and taping the back of it. Not a drop came from it. Angrily she dropped it on the mat, unimpressed by the now lack of alcohol to heighten her senses.

Kendell Smith: “Where the fuck will I get more drink now….”

A voice came from the back of the arena answering her question.

Voice: “I can help you in that department.”

Kendell blinked for a second, looking around, half expecting to see somebody half expecting the voice to be coming from inside her head. Was she so wasted that she was starting to hear voices? Perhaps it was best that the Hennessy had run dry.

Voice: “Up here.”

Kendell looked up, a look of complete drunken confusion spread across her face.

Kendell Smith: “God?...”

The man laughed as he made his way down towards the ring. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her this drunk or in this kind of a mood but the truth was she couldn’t remember being that drunk either.

Voice: “Close enough.”

Her eye line followed his voice now as she turned to face the man walking down towards the ring. For a second she blinked, not sure if her eyes where deceiving her and now knowing why the label on the aspirin bottle said ‘do not mix with alcohol’.

Kendell Smith: “Khristian?”

Khristian Call: “That’s me and I come bearing gifts.”

He smiled up at her as she walked, or stumbled, over to the ropes of the ring, looking down at him, her large blue eyes filled with disbelief as she watched him hold up a bottle of whiskey. She continued to stare as he made his way across to the steps by the turnbuckle. He hadn’t changed a bit he was still the same incredibly attractive man he was when she had last laid eyes on him. Everything about him, from the way he moved to the way he held himself, he had a presence. He slipped between the ropes as she used them to hold herself up.

Khristian Call: “You don’t look happy to see me.”

Kendell Smith: “It’s not that, I’m just surprised.”

Khristian Call: “Well I was in the neighbourhood so thought I would lend a little bit of moral support with your big match on Monday night.”

She raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t so much questioning his motive she was just confused and the alcohol wasn’t helping. It was then and there she realised just how unattractive she must look, absolutely dreadfully drunk, in a pair of old shorts and a warn t-shirt with Jim Morrison’s face staring out of it. Even her hair was tied back half assed and because she hadn’t planned on walking aimlessly around the building at 2am she had no make up on. She frowned. It wasn’t everyday she met Khristian Call, a man who had seen her in every sexual position there was, she would have preferred to look somewhat decent standing in front of a man who knew what she looked like bent over a table. With all her energy left she decided to forget about what she looked like and take a seat in the ring before her legs gave way and she was forced to sit. She stumbled slightly, grabbing on to his large arm to balance herself, before regaining her composure and making her way to the centre of the ring. He laughed, finding her inebriated state quite amusing. Not noticing his amusement she positioned herself on the mat again tapping it beside her for him to take a seat. He walked slowly across the ring, never taking his eyes off her or the smile from his face. He stood over her passing her down the bottle. She smiled up at him and took it from his hands opening it up as fast as she could before the hangover started to kick in.

Kendell Smith: “What can I do to repay you for the drink?”

He smiled and sat himself down on the mat beside her his hand naturally falling comfortably on her bare knee. It was amazing, she thought, in all her life she had never been intimidated in the presence of a man until she met him. It wasn’t so much intimidation as it was the knowing that he could handle where other men had failed in the past.

Khristian Call: “I’m sure your company for a while will suffice.”

He was also the first man that didn’t dive into her pants the second he got a chance. She respected that but at the same time it added to the desire she had for him which she was sure he knew.

Khristian Call: “So, are you looking forward to your match this week?”

Kendell Smith: “Meh… just like any other match I guess.”

Khristian Call: “A big title shot.”

Kendell Smith: “Yea against Gary ‘Mediocre’ Reece. It’s not even about the belt for me you know? I just don’t like losing. I’m used to getting what I want.”

She turned and smiled at him bringing the bottle of whiskey to get lips slowly and drinking before passing it in his direction with a wink. He smiled back at her.

Khristian Call: “I can imagine.”

Kendell Smith: “I’m sure the great Khristian Call is also used to getting exactly what he wants.”

He didn’t answer though instead he just smiled and took a sip from the green bottle of whiskey. She took a deep breath, very aware now that the room felt like it was spinning.

Kendell Smith: “Hey… is the mat moving?”

Khristian Call: “Huh?”

Kendell Smith: “Nevermind…”

She stood up, she needed to stand or she was going to black out. She stumbled a bit and smiled as if it hadn’t happened, then walked across to the ropes on the far side of the ring. She ran her hand along the velvet red ropes gripping on to the top one and pulling herself up on the ropes beside the turnbuckle, she lost her balance slightly but regained it by leaning to the side and gripping the top of the turnbuckle before letting it go and holding her arms out at her sides.

Khristian Call: “Maybe it would be a better idea if you didn’t drunkenly climb on the ropes.”

Kendell Smith: “I’m fine! After all I’m going to be the next undisputed champion.”

Khristian Call: “Oh is that right?”

Kendell Smith: “Yep. Walking in the footsteps of the great Mr. Call.”

He laughed standing up from the mat and placing the bottle down.

Kendell Smith: “Because even if Icon and Stryfe had a bastard child it wouldn’t be as cocky as I am, or as beautiful for that matter.”

Khristian Call: “Well aren’t we smug.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled.

Kendell Smith: “I learned from the best.”

Before she could say anymore, she slipped back a bit, losing her balance on the ropes and unable to regain it because of her intoxication. Luckily enough Khristian was swift and strong enough to catch her in his arms as she fell back. His strong arms around him she smiled and looked up into his eyes.

Kendell Smith: “Aww… my hero. Khristian, take me to bed or lose me forever.”

He laughed looking down at her before hoisting her up and throwing her over his shoulder with ease and slapping her on the ass. She didn’t resist half because she couldn’t and half because she didn’t want to.

Khristian Call: “I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night. We don’t want the ‘next undisputed champion’ killing herself now do we?”

She just shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. That was the last thing she remembered that night. She woke up the next morning as the light beamed through the blinds in her locker room where the moon had shone on her the night before. She cringed for a minute and let out a load groan as the pain in her head became all too apparent. Her antics from the night before came flooding back bit by bit. She shot up in bed looking beside her, no Khristian. She looked down, fully clothed. Well that was a first, she thought as she leaned back on the pillow, her mouth dry and her head thumping, she now regretted her night of indulgence. She closed her eyes and gripped the pillow on the far side of the bed, a piece of paper brushing up against her hand. She opened her eyes again, picking up the piece of paper and bringing it towards her eye line. It took a moment for her eyes to focus as she read the words, a smile forming on her lips and for a second helping her forget of the self induced agony she was in.

“You kept your dignity… somewhat. Good Luck on Monday. Khristian xx”

She smiled, placing the note at the side of the bed and just like that all her worries from the night before had disappeared. After all, she was the next undisputed champion