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Nov 12, 2021 11:35:50 GMT -5
Carter Shaw and Johnny Bacchus like this
Post by ππππ‘ππ«π’π§π πππ¬ππ’π§π π¬ on Nov 12, 2021 11:35:50 GMT -5
 Itβs true what they say; Vegas really is the city that doesnβt sleep. It still mesmerises me every time I stare out the window and look at my new home town. In truth, London will always be home, but this is, for now at least, where Iβve started putting down roots. How many light bulbs must this place go through in a year? My mind wanders as I struggle to remain engaged by the conversation at hand with my fellow gym buddies. Iβd begrudgingly agreed to come for a couple of drinks after todayβs session. I felt I should; life has been so hectic recently between spending time with Sam and Zooey, travelling all around the country plus Romania for work Iβd actually hardly spent any time in my new hometown, and with potential new friends. To this point, Vegas was really just where I trained and where I collected my mail, my home was my suitcase and my friends were scattered across the country. Iβm blessed Iβve made such good friends in Sam and Zooey; Sam's proving to be like a third big brother. He just gets it; being a fellow ex-pat, he knows what itβs like uprooting your whole life and moving across the Atlantic. And Zooey? Well, she is just an angel. I try to refocus on the conversation again. One of the newer members of the group, Kyle, continues to dominate the conversation. Heβd recently relocated from Iowa and saw himself as a big shot MMA prospect. Donβt get me wrong, he does seem to have potential, but his overconfidence is a massive turn off. And Iβve noticed that he keeps staring at me whilst the others are talking. Is that smoulder? I no sell the farm boyβs advances as another member of the group, Alexa, talks about some kickboxing tournament she competed in during college, but I can feel his intense gaze burning into the side of my head. As I attempt to ignore the creeper across the table and try not to nod off whilst listening to Alexa, I instead begin to think about my busy week ahead. First off, I was heading to Boston for Pro Wrestling Valorβs third event: Relentless. I feel the corner of my mouth twinge as I think about the possibility of becoming the next Spirit of the Fight Champion. Mick had me working hard this week in preparation for the triple threat match against Don Tirri and Danny Rose; Iβd been working on Rose Entanglement especially for this matchup. Then Iβd have to jump on a redeye down to North Carolina, ready to face that arsehole Shane Striker. What is it with me? Do I have something written on my forehead because over the last few weeks Iβve been attracting the attention from every Tom, Dick and Harry: from Diego to Striker, even Kyle opposite me. My god, could he make it any less obvious that heβs undressing me with his eyes? Is no one else noticing this? I finally play up to it a little to tease him, might as well get a kick out of it, either that or I kick him in the chin like Diego last week but that would make work in the gym tomorrow a tad awkward. I simply stare back at him as I slide the straw of my cocktail into my mouth and suck slowly whilst maintaining eye contact. It definitely got to him, he's now biting his lip. I stop teasing Kyle and try returning my attention to Alexaβs latest war story, but really I continue thinking about the incident with Striker. The nerve of the man, evading my personal space and being, well, a complete cock. I was just doing my thing, warming down backstage whilst listening to Adele and he comes along running his mouth. I get that guys like Shane and Diego - theyβre probably frustrated with their position within Action Wrestling. But what makes them think Iβm the cause of that? And why do they think itβs my fault? I havenβt exactly been lighting it up myself since I lost the Television Title. Itβs what it is though, I canβt change who I am. If some members of the locker room think Iβm the golden girl just because FightSmart signed me up to a very attractive endorsement deal, that Iβm their meal ticket to climbing up the card - then so be it. Iβll teach Shane the same lesson I taught Diego last week, and Iβll send him back to 1996 or whatever stupid year the Philli bingo hall fighting throwback deserves to be in. βYouβre quiet Kat, the music is loud in here. Do ya want to go somewhere a bit moreβ¦ quiet maybe?β asks Kyle, out of the blue. This is awkward, and Iβm not really sure how to respond. The group has also noticed, Alexa even stopped reminiscing and theyβre looking for me to answer. God, I wish the floor would just open up, where is Harvey Marx when you need him? βUmm,β Iβm still pondering my answer, βItβs ok, Iβm good thank you, I was enjoying listening to Alexaβs storyβ. Story? I hope that didnβt sound patronising. It isnβt a very interesting one, but Iβve no interest in going off to wherever Kyle had in mind. He definitely isnβt going to get to practice his ground game on the sheets with me. Kyle looks frustrated by my knockback, but thatβs not of my concern. Suddenly my attention is drawn to my phone screen lighting up. He messaged me, no not Kyle. I quickly stop pretending to listen to Alexaβs story and open the message Heβs back in town, I wasnβt expecting to see him this week. My heart skips a beat; I get those butterfly feelings again. Now I need to think of a way to make my excuses to leave this social gathering. There is somewhere else Iβd rather be right now, and sorry Kyle, but it doesnβt involve you.  |
