“Every one is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody”



I sat there twiddling my thumbs and staring into an abyss of boredom. Everyone around me smiling, laughing joking like their role in the drama of life was significant. They were unaware that their existence was meaningless, they where just pawns. I watched as they drank their champagne and exchanged stories of life success and their own wealth. I sniggered watching them all, robots, mannequins, and sheep. No depth to their lives. They couldn’t take their wealth to the grave with them all they would take where their lies, their sins, and the emptiness they based their life worth. It made me physically sick. I had grown up surrounded by people just like them. Oh why was I here? Why was I sitting at this gala dinner with these people around me pretending to be something I was not? Trying to put a smile on my face just so my look of indifference wouldn’t offend anybody, I lifted my own glass of over priced champagne to my lips letting the cool bubbles tickle the back of my throat. Crossing my legs I continued to fiddle with the edge of the tablecloth, my eyes glazed over letting the minutes tick away and just hoping for the moment I could leave.

The dinner was in aid of some charity, I wasn’t sure which one nor did I care, much like the majority of people here guzzling their five hundred dollar bottles of champagne and pretending to care about some form of poverty. Hypocrites all of us, wearing expensive clothing, drinking the best alcohol money could buy and wearing Jimmy Choos that would probably never touch our feet again after tonight, while complaining about the ways of the World and how children are starving and ‘how terrible it is’. The fact was nobody in this room cared about children who where starving, that was a different world to the little bubble we had built around ourselves and it made me wretch to know that I was a part of this. I watched as wrestling superstars mingled with society’s elite, giving them what they wanted, a minute talking to a superstar. Sitting back in my chair I scrutinized them all, judging them.

They never had felt the lows of life too busy in their own little gold plated worlds to be hurt by reality. My reality was starting to set in. I was a twenty four year old woman with no soul, screwing anything with money, hung up on a man dead six years and about to risk my life for something I wasn’t even sure I believed in anymore. I’m sure many a person would have laughed at me had they realised the self-torment that was eating away at me from the inside out. I was sure Gary Reece would probably try use it to his advantage but my own disdain towards the whole situation wouldn’t let me care. I knew what he thought of me, he had made it abundantly clear but it didn’t change the fact that in the ring I was a great athlete and I had already proven it to him time and time again. I may not have had the whole ‘duel title’ thing that Gary Reece had going on but I was match fit and ready for action, after all I was the champion. Nothing would stop my focus in this match not even the fact that one of my opponents was Gary Reece. I convinced myself that this was just another match to be won with no stipulations behind it at all. With that in mind I decided it was time to go to the bar and start drinking something a little stronger than the champagne they where serving.

I stood from my chair as people at the table continued their conversation around me barely weary of my existence. With an apathetic sigh I took my purse and made my way to the bar at the far side of the huge ballroom. The red silk of the dress brushed against my knees as I walked, my red heels clicking in time with my heart beat as I reached the bar and gently leaned myself against it while waiting to be served. I began to scan the bar for familiar friendly faces and saw Ricky down one end. With a smile I decided to go speak to him, as I hadn’t had a chance to say two words to him all night. I stopped in my tracks as I saw a female hand run playfully across his chest as he smiled. I watched a slutty bar maid drape herself over Ricky while he smiled obviously enjoying the attention. With a snigger I turned back to the bar deciding to let him enjoy being hit on by the staff as long as he was match fit though he could go dip his dick in all kinds of dirty buckets, BJ, Maria Valen etc. etc. Before I could think about it anymore a familiar voice came from behind me.

Eli Keaton: “You look like you want to hang yourself with the strap of your Prada purse”

I turned and looked at Eli who smiled reassuringly. I was weary of Eli, his mouth ran faster than his brain and he was ruthless, even more so than she which although impressive meant for a dangerous mix but he had depth, unlike most people I had met since arriving at UWF. He was honest, even to a point of being brutal and he never tried to sugar coat certain situations, which was a God given gift. I had spent my earlier life sugar coating situations, trying to find the good in people where there was no good and looking at everything with rose tinted glasses until I grew up.

Kendell Smith: “It’s the hypocrisy, makes me sick.”

I didn’t really want to get in to a long drawn out conversation with him; number one because I didn’t like to associate with colleagues and people I may have to face in the future and two because I just didn’t trust him. It felt like everything I said would appear on the Eli Experience.

Eli Keaton: “You seem stand offish”

I sniggered. I was aware of every word that went in to the Eli Experience and I was aware of every little detail that had been said about me, it was expected that once you’re in the limelight you where open for criticism but I wasn’t going to play friendly with those who criticised me.

Kendell Smith: “I tend not to associate with those who refer to me as the type that would ‘stand there staring upward as the Acme safe crashes down on you’.”

Eli laughed and nodded obviously amused by my reaction to his most recent mindless rant. He obviously didn’t feel at home amongst the crowd of America’s finest. Before we could talk anymore Eli turned around, watching as a big chested blonde motioned for him to come stand by her. With another laugh and a wink he got up from his chair and turned back to me taking my hand and placing something in it.

Eli Keaton: “See that blonde? I plan to fuck her in the ass tonight so here, take this, it will help relax you and make the night a little more interesting I hate to see broads moping around like somebody jacked off into their moisturiser.”

He winked at me one more time before turning and walking across to the blonde, grabbing her playfully. I looked down at my hand at the small bag of joints and smiled. It had been a long time since I had indulged in recreational drug taking, a whole twenty four hours. Keeping the bag in my hand I walked across to the other side of the ballroom near the kitchen. I could feel eyes follow me as I walked, curious as to where I might be going. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear I slipped out the backdoor and into the night air. The October air was chilly but refreshing as I stepped out onto the concrete ground the smell of caviar and other entrées filled my senses making my stomach rumble slightly. I hadn’t been eating a lot lately food just wasn’t appealing and the idea of eating something made me queasy. I spotted an empty milk crate and decided it was where I would settle down and enjoy the night air. Making myself comfortable on the red crate I slipped my hand into my purse and pulled out a box of matches. I put the joint in my mouth and with a quick flick of the wrist lit the match and brought it to my mouth. The sweet smoke filled the air around me and travelled down to my lungs. I felt better already.

Puffing away I leaned back on the crate against the wall and stared up at the stars. The night was clear and the stars vivid. I realised it had been a long time since I had stared at the stars. Life’s complications sometimes lead me to believe they where no longer there but looking up at them now it was obvious that regardless of what was going on in the world they still shined brightly. The feeling of security quickly faded as thoughts of Gary Reece and James Magnum drifted back into my mind. I had been watching each of them closely over the past week. I had decided to distance myself from the James and Gary melodrama deciding that I would rather take a back seat and watch from the outside looking in until Monday night came about. I had tried to avoid the media to the best I could knowing that if they got their hands on me they would tear me apart like rabid hyenas ripping apart a deer. I had enough to worry about without adding to the fire. Listening to Gary’s words during all the promos he cut regarding me I couldn’t help but laugh. I looked down at the ring that dangled from around my neck and smiled. It was my old engagement ring I carried it everywhere with me, like a good luck charm. It was there the first time I won the title, it was there the second time I won the title and it was there for every match in between. Gary Reece may have James Magnum and experience on his side but I had something else.

He judged me as if he knew me, making assumptions about me, and the way I live my life but he was on the outside looking in. My beliefs had brought me nothing but pain and heartache over and over again so why should I continue to put myself through the torture. I was tired of indulging in my masochistic tendencies it was time to embrace the sadism within me. He should know all about sadism, the deriving of pleasure through cruelty after all wasn’t he the man who continuously put himself in the line of fire with female roster members, his flavour of the month now Ambre. His over confidence and belief that he was somehow above life itself would be the reason he would fall and crumble. His demeanour reeked of self-hatred and fear of his own final destruction. I could see it a mile away, the man trying to put the fear of God into his opponents by using fake confidence in hopes that he would be able to break there spirits and confidence from the inside out. But he wouldn’t break me. This was just another match to me, like hundreds before it and I didn’t care who he was or who he claimed to be. This was just another time I would beat Gary Reece with or without Ricky and Magnum, this was my warm up.

Waiter: “Is this seat taken?”

I looked up at the handsome young man who looked back at me smiling while pointing to the crate beside me. Dressed in a black suit and obviously on his break I could imagine the amusement he got out of seeing one of the people he was waiting on outside filling her lungs with illegal drugs.

Kendell Smith: “Knock yourself out.”

I turned back to staring up at the stars and puffing away on the joint while contemplating the meaning of life and death.

Waiter: “Not inside enjoying the party?”

Kendell Smith: “That’s not a party it’s a circus.”

The young waiter sniggered a side smirk on his face making him look all the more handsome. I wondered if he had pictured his life serving over priced champagne to the wealthy. Life was one major disappointment after another.

Waiter: “You like stars? I noticed you from the kitchen staring up at them for the past thirty minutes.”

Kendell Smith: “I like stars, stars don’t like me.”

The young man leaned back against the wall beside me as I passed the joint to him he took it from my fingers holding it in his own soft hand and bringing it to his lips, the cloud of smoke enveloping us as we both sat on the milk crates staring up at the night sky. It looked like a sheet of velvet covered in diamonds, the perfect night sky, picture perfect from the ground looking up just like me, perfect from the outside looking in.

Waiter: “My father used to tell me that stars where the souls of the people we loved who had passed away.”

Great, more talk of souls reminding me that I no longer had mine or at least it felt that way. What was a soul after all? A myth made up to scare children like the Boogie Man and Michael Jackson.

Kendell Smith: “Nice idea.”

Waiter: “You don’t believe it?”

Kendell Smith: “Life has forced me to be sceptical.”

Waiter: “You sound like an old woman.”

I couldn’t help but laugh slightly, maybe it was the weed or maybe I could see the humour in the situation I had gotten myself into. I took the joint back from him and brought it to my lips closing my eyes for a second, letting the thoughts dance around in my mind once again. It wasn’t so much my match that was bothering me although if I where to be honest I was far from comfortable with facing Gary Reece. My mind had been doing laps lately, remembering who I used to be and analysing what I had become. Was I beyond saving? I wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted to be saved. Exactly what would I be saved from? I had millions of dollars, beauty and fame so then what was there about me that needed to be saved? My immortal soul that would leave me rotting in hell for all eternity. I was raised a devote roman and despite myself the faith had stayed in my heart but as selfish as it seemed one question kept running through my mind, what had God done for me? My mother killed herself, my father was a murderer and the only person I had ever loved was dead. The fact was there was no God on my side; God had never been on my side. I could picture him looking down on me hitting me with one disaster after another and laughing as I tried to struggle out of the turmoil.

Kendell Smith: “Do you believe in God?”

Waiter: “Well that’s a deep question from somebody I met a few minutes ago.”

Kendell Smith: “Curious… it must be the weed.”

Waiter: “Yes, I believe in God. What makes you curious?”

Death. Death was why I was curious. I wasn’t afraid of death in some ways I even embraced it, the easy way out of a hard situation. Jesus had apparently come back from the dead, or so it was claimed. But why would anybody want to? I couldn’t imagine why anybody would actually choose to come back to hell when they had been given the easy way out. I had lost respect for life which was probably a good thing; I just hoped there was no God to watch over me as I blatantly killed off any good left inside of me.

Kendell Smith: “The things I’ve seen… the things I’ve done…”

He moved over to me closely taking the gold that lay draped around my neck and holding it gently in his hand. The moon reflected off it as I looked down, just enough to catch the engraving as I sighed deeply.

Waiter: “Married?”

Kendell Smith: “Nope, it was…. a gift….from a long time ago. Another life time.”

Waiter: “Nice gift.”

I couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the irony of his words. Little did he know everything the ring stood for. It was evidence to what I had become. Heartless, passionless, lifeless and soulless. I was about as alive as Anna Nicole Smith. I turned my attention back to the waiter who stood up from the crate and smiled down at me.

Waiter: “Well it was nice talking to you. I better get back to work before the boss catches me out here. Enjoy your night, and keep staring at the stars.”

I smiled back and watched him walk away. It wasn’t every day I sat in an alley way smoking weed with a stranger. I had been doing a lot of things of late that I would never have usually done, that much was obvious. I didn’t recognise myself anymore. I had to destroy Gary Reece, this week and at Shockwave, that much I knew. I felt that by doing so it would perhaps bring some clarity back into my life it would help me feel like the road I had taken was in fact the best one for me. I didn’t want to be just another blank face, I wanted to be my own person but right now I wasn’t sure who exactly that was.

Had I really taken the path less travelled because of my pride? Because deep down I craved satisfaction? Had I sold my soul to the highest bidder? I knew one thing; none of this was why my heart was heavy, why I was grief stricken and unable to see a clear path. That grief had set in long before I had affiliated myself with drugs and sex. I was desperate to feel once again the tiny bit of clarity and happiness I once had in my life. I had set certain milestones in my life, which I thought would set me back on the path I was once on. Winning the Universal title hadn’t done it for me; it had made me happy for about a day before the doubts set back in.

So I’ll go down to the ring on Monday to the boos of a fickle crowd who pay my wages and I will fight until I sweat blood and I will do it again at Shockwave. I will work harder than I have ever worked in the ring before, I will work side by side with the man a man who despises Gary Reece as much as me and I’ll do it for myself in the hopes that maybe one day I will be able to sleep at night without hearing the screams.