Chapter 3

Even though Virginia’s place was in the opposite direction, it only took me twenty minutes to walk back to the hotel. When I walked into the room, the guy who was sharing my room was still out. No doubt he was still at the bars and on the dance floor with the chicks. More power to him I said as I started to change from the dress clothes I was wearing. I noticed that the tumble I took did leave a nasty bruise, and would have to do something about it. I took a bucket and slowly strolled down hall to the ice machine. Of course I had to get in line because everyone was trying to ice themselves down before the big event. Standing there with a bucket in the machine waiting for it to spit out more ice was my good friend Mickey. He was always in need of ice for one reason or another, but chances are it was either his knees or other various joints always are in need of swelling down. I stood there with bucket in hand, until he noticed I was there.

 

        “Sorry Sam.” Mickey said as he stood there patiently waiting, “This piece of crap takes forever to make a single sliver of ice, let along a f*****g bucket.” He paused for a moment and they could tell that my shorts were hiding that nasty bruise, “Damn, what the hell were you up to tonight? Pierre is going to kill you for doing that. Vinnie is going to flip if you need to burrow his tights again to cover that up.”

 

        “He still owes me one.” After a few moments of some judgmental looks from Mickey, I finally replied, “I slipped on some ice walking back to the hotel. It was completely accidental.”       

 

        Mickey had finally finished with the Ice machine, “Your story need a little more work, Sam.” he said with a smile as he laughed his way down the hall back to his room. For once I had been telling the truth, and no one believes me. When I got back to my room, I flipped the TV on and watching a little tube while putting some ice on some badly needed spots. There were some commercials for tomorrow night’s events that had convinced me that it was time for bed because I needed to rest and be ready for the next day. Any television taping was rough on the body, because we’re up rehearsing all day and then finally after the event is done… it’s time to move on to another city. Life on the road can be a tad stressing.

 

Yet as I dozed to sleep, I couldn’t help but think about Virginia and our little encounter tonight. Was it fate, or just dumb luck that managed to make our paths cross. Or as Dad had said before, did love finally come looking for me? It was something I was going to answer another time, as I dozed off and was quickly snoring away.

 

*            *            *            *

 

        It was nine in the morning on a Saturday, when I heard my Dad grunt his way out of bed and huff his way down the hall to the bathroom. I was up with my brothers, watching Saturday morning cartoons but it was impossible to not hear the old man get up. The louder the groans were, the rougher the match he had this week was. Truth was I didn’t mind listening to Dad get up in the morning cause it meant he was still home. I was afraid of the days when he was too hurt to get out of bed, or never came home because he spent the night at a hospital instead. We all knew it was an act, but like in all workplace environments, accidents always happened and sometimes they were severe. So I always looked to see Dad make his routine first march to the bathroom and usually when he came back out, he’d offer a smile to let us know he was all right and then offer something cool for breakfast. Usually he would go with pancakes or French toast, and we never cared which as long as we got to help with the bowl stirring and spend some time with him.

 

A wide grin crept up from underneath his signature moustashe. "Samuel, are you going to help me make breakfast today?"

 

He didn't have to ask twice as Saturday morning cartoons would always be there every week. Time with my Dad who spend the majority of his professional career on the road was not. I grabbed a big bowl from underneath the sink and walked over to help my old man make French toast for the whole family. "I"ll be here for ya Dad, like your tag team partner!"

 

"I would be proud to have you as a partner, Sam." he said with a smile as he patted my head. "But for now concentrate on school and doing something normal. The ring and I will be there if you need it."

                            *            *            *            *

        I had one of those nights when you close your eyes and then quickly open them again to realize that it’s day out and you’ve slept like twelve hours. I quickly hopped out of bed but was quiet as my party hound roomie was still snoozing away and likely going to have one mother of a hangover when he eventually got back up. I quickly dressed into jeans and a shirt and quickly went downstairs for a bite. The hotel we were staying at offered a huge breakfast buffet, which is one reason why the guys loved to stay here.

 

        I knew some of them were going to be up and eager to get their day on the go. When I walked into the lounge where everyone was eating, I was quickly flagged down by Mickey who was eating happily and chatting up a storm with the guys. I waved back but instead went right to the buffet first. I took some scrambled eggs, little bit of bacon and some toast before strolling back to the table and joining the guys. At the table with Mickey were the guys that I usually hang out with from the company. Vinnie was there, as was Christian Hall, one of our company’s biggest good guys right now. With his long blonde hair and a smile that could charm any woman out of her panties, he was one the boss’ biggest assets and he knew it. I sat down with my meager breakfast beside Mickey who was pretty much eating like someone who just got back from doing a full season of Survivor. Mickey wasn’t the bodybuilding type of wrestler so he didn’t have to worry about his calorie count nor his physique. That left him free to chow down on extra bacon and sausage and be proud of it. While the others at the table were nibbling on small meals, afraid that one extra calorie would add ten pounds to us when we appear on television that night. 

 

        “So.” Mickey started between bites of French toast, “I was telling the guys about your accident. I think the hotel should toss more salt around to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

 

        “So how bad is it?” Vinnie asked trying to look more annoyed that concerned. “Do you need to burrow my tights again?”

 

        “I’m afraid so.” I said trying to not make it seem too important.

 

        “You’ve got to be more careful Sam,” Christian said when polishing off his own plate and calling for another cup of coffee, “Your character relies on his appearance, so you can’t do that too often.”

 

        These guys are worse than a bunch of old women working on a quilt. All I did was slip on a patch of ice, and suddenly my fall had swelled into a rumor that I was too injured to fight tonight. Before I knew it our boss was at the table making inquiries of his own. Albert Davies, the man who signs the cheques and is the biggest wrestling promoter in the world takes his business very seriously. Once he realized I was there having breakfast, he jumped to his feet and walked over to make sure I was all right.

 

        “Just wanted to make sure those rumors are put to bed.” Albert said with confidence, trying to act like he didn’t believe them to begin with.

 

        “I’m fine, Mr. Davies.” I replied, trying to sound as confident as I could, but then added, “I will have to wear the long tights to cover up the bruise. It’s gonna take at least a week for it to go away.”

 

        “Just as a precaution, I’m gonna get the people in wardrobe to whip something new up to help you out. We’ll use this as a opportunity to mix things up.” Mr. Davies seemed relieved as he padded me on the back, “See you guys at the stadium and don’t work too hard in the gym this morning. I want you to save some energy for rehearsal, tomorrow night is a huge event and I want everyone to be ready.  Can someone also remind the party hounds not to be late either for me? And Vinnie, try to lay off the bacon before Pierre has a s**t fit.”