BACKSTAGE AT THE UNITED CELLULAR CENTER
I’m walking with Sadie over to where backstage said that Punky was warming up. I'm still a bit on edge with everything that has happened so far. But hell, that's the biz. I'm in my gear even though I'm not scheduled for action, but I plan on being there for this match, if nothing else to keep Punky and Sadie focused on their opponents.
"Ok look. When we get there, don't mention anything about you being in Countdown. Let me explain that to her. Also, you gotta follow her lead. She is the veteran of this team so she should start, especially if Aika gets in first. Aika is her demon to deal with, so let her do it. But most of all, please just let me do most of the talking.”
Red is NOT happy with me right now.
I’m walking down the hall wearing one of his white, button-up shirts over my wrestling outfit and shoot a quick glance over at him. He doesn't even begin to return my look, just stares straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight.
I playfully nudge him with my shoulder but no response. I may as well be trying to flirt with a telephone pole.
Finally, he opens his mouth, “OK, look…”
Uh oh! I DO NOT want to hear a lecture from him right now. I quickly pop in my ear buds and hit "PLAY" on my phone. I watch Red’s mouth move as “The Blue Route” by The Walkmen blares into my ears.
After a few moments we arrive at our makeshift dressing room. Red leans forward to open the door for me and my heart flutters. Still a southern gentleman, even when he’s pissed off.
I step inside to find Megan warming up.
“Guess what?” I say, loudly, over the music in my ears. “I’m the newest member of Countdown. Also, I’m thinking, if we’re serious about winning this match tonight, I ought to start us out.”
I’m at a bare spot on the painted cinder block wall between the walls of big lockers, my hands pressed to the floor, my Docs up above my head with my heels just barely touching the wall. My inked arms flex as I lower myself until my purple hair coils on the locker room floor under me, and then my biceps tighten as I growl and push myself back up again, extending my arms and pointing my toes. Handstand push-ups. Charlie Bronson swears by them, and he's strong enough to break a cinder block in his bare hands. Funny bastard, too, for someone who once fed a jailor his own nightstick.
Sweat runs down my cheeks and beads at the end of my nose, falling to the floor. The big communal locker room is quiet - the Mulkey cousins aren't back from their outing yet, and a couple of the girls who aren't booked are just maintaining their gear. I ended up not having to beat anyone's ass senseless - as soon as I stomped my way into the locker room with my lead-loaded mallet in my fist and my bag of plunder on my back, everyone suddenly got real polite, real quiet, and real good at avoiding eye contact.
But I know they were watching when La Santa came in.
“Miss Dow," she said from just behind me. If she had been stupid enough to sneak up on me, she'd have gotten an elbow in the throat, but I'd seen her come in with her coterie of PAs and Sweet Richie Love, road agent and professional bastard who still had a nasty limp after not getting the fuck out of my way fast enough at Second Coming. I'd been getting my gear on, pulling my Lycra knee socks on and snapping them taut. I glanced back at the ex-luchadora, and yanked my blood-red Doc Marten on, starting to lace it brutally tight. "Missus Claus," I half-smirked back, mostly focused on my boot. We'd only crossed paths a few times in the ring, but we'd been in a lot of the same locker rooms and I have a talent for remembering nicknames people hate.
To her credit, her temper didn't flare at all. She simply continued in that sweet lyrical Barcelona accent. "While you have left the Countdown, demonstrating more wisdom than I would have guessed you possessed," and there I smirked again, twisting my foot in my boot to make sure the fit was good. You needed a strongly tied boot to stay on through the number of kicks I was throwing these days. She continued - "There is already a contracted match on the schedule, and we have already had to fit a substitution in for Miss Rox." That narrowed my eyes a little, but she plowed on. "Another substitution, we feel, would be against the spirit of -" I'd cut her off, holding up my hand without turning around, then started to yank my other boot on. "Spare me the fuckin' lecture, Sants. So I'm fuckin' booked. Who do you wanna watch get th' shit kicked outta them?" There was an audible shuffle as some of the other girls in the locker room tried to back away, or get to the showers.
"Always so colorful, Miss Dow," and I snorted. Bitch had been calling me that since my first Mexican show. Even my own MOM called me Punky by now, but not La Santa Gabriela. "You will be teaming with Sadie Davis, who will be standing in for Gemma." My snort was louder then, and much richer and much nastier and much more amused. "That blonde tart couldn't fill Gemma's boots if she was wearin' fourteen pairs of socks. Ya might as well send me out with a golden labradoodle. If she can play fetch then I'd at least be stuck with a little blonde bitch who can do SOMETHIN' useful." I shook my head, tightening my boot one last time before snugging the laces and lashing a kick out into the lockers with a clattering crunch of metal that made everyone but Gabriela jump.
I stood up and turned around, lacing my fingers and pushing my hands out to lazily crack my knuckles. "So who we got?" I'd drawled.
She had straightened her coat, glanced swiftly down to make sure we were far enough apart that she could get clear if I made any sudden moves, and spoke coolly. "You will be facing Tiffany and Aika," she drops as casually as a nickel in a wishing well.
My fists tightened, my short glossy black nails digging bloody crescents into my palms that I wasn't even aware of, and my eyes dilated like a junkie getting a hit of smack. "You're gonna give me Aika?"
La Santa had held her hands up, and there had been a lot of talk then, a lot of warnings about the rules of athletic competition and the terms of my contract and property damage and police on hand to back up security and being forced into this because Rowan and I were disrupting her show, and all of it had been wa-wa-wa-wa-wa noises like Charlie Brown's teacher.
Aika.
She was gonna let me get my fucking hands on Aika.
And now I was finishing my warm-ups, and unable to stop smiling, even when Sadie's head pops around the door and she chirps at me. My smile stays on, warm and bright as I kick off the wall and swing my feet down to the floor, popping myself upright. I swing my sweat-glossed arms back and forth across my chest, and grin, my dark hazel eyes sparkling as I run my hands through my purple hair and push it back.
"New blood," I grin. I don't think the little blonde can hear me, not with her tween-buds in. I look at Red, over her shoulder, and with a half-grin, I nod. "Yeah. I bet you're EXACTLY what Calli was lookin' for." Someone new and untried with no friends in the locker room and no allies in the business except the one Callista already had her hooks in. “Dream come fuckin' true for Miss Quinn.”
I take a long breath or two and my heart races, warm and sweet. Sadie wants to START the match. I get a mental image of Aika snapping her arm like a wet green twig, and I chuckle, full of good humor. My hands snap out and pop those little earbuds free of Sadie's ears, and I see Red tense because when I move that fast it's usually because I'm about to cripple someone, but I just keep on that sweet half-grin.
"Startin' us off, huh? Ya gonna give 'em hell, new blood? Gonna hit AutoZone for a pair of tire irons and jump ‘em both in the parking lot?” I shove off suddenly, making Red jump a little as Sadie just stares at me. Little bitch has eyes not that different than Calli’s. Calculating. Sharky. I head for the locker where I grab my little bag of Shinjuku ring cosmetics.
"Sure, kid. Y’know what? You’re just a nasty enough piece of work to do it. Take the lead. Take the whole match. Sing us some Swedish pop and bash Tiffy’s brains all over the canvas. Do whatever the fuck you want, kiddo,” and I turn and grin at both of you, and there's a distinct manic edge to it, bright and intense and sharp as the edge of a knife.
"It’s gonna be fuckin’ spectacular no matter what.”
I snatch the Red Queen from the locker room, the roque mallet tight in my white-knuckled fist as I stalk suddenly forward, my eyes twinkling as I see Red subtly shift himself between me and Sadie, and I rest the hammer on my right shoulder with my little bag of black stuff dangling from my curled right fingers. My left hand comes up - and aims a soft pat at Reddy's cheek.
"Just make sure to warm her up proper, yeah?” I purr, my voice dropping silkily and a teasing grin on my lips. “Do the Rowboat like we used to do on the floor in Atlanta. That ALWAYS warmed me up good," Despite the fury of my bloodthirsty desire for Aika, my eyes sparkle because even if I AM in a good mood, getting Reddy in trouble with his little blonde chippy is still irresistible. I skip around Reddy and swat at Sadie's firm butt with my free left hand.
"It's gonna be a show they won't forget, koinu.”
There's a bounce in my step and murder in my heart as I head down to the mirrors to put my game face on.
My entire body tenses up as Megan crosses the room and yanks my ear buds out. From everything I’ve heard, I fully expect her to, at the very least, try to rip my head off and sell it on eBay as a limited edition bowling ball.
But to my utter amazement, she does something even MORE bizarre – she launches into some lunatic rant, artfully straddling the line between insulting and praising me, before agreeing, in the end, that, yes, I should start the match.
Is this for real? Did I really just get everything I wanted? I glance over at Red, then back at Megan waiting for the other shoe to drop. And – KER-PLUNK! – I don’t have to wait long. Megan brushes past me, reaching up to pat Red on the cheek as she delivers a not-so-subtle reference to a fling the two of them had in Atlanta.
F*ck. That.
I ball my right hand into a fist, but before I can launch it towards Megan’s nose, she treats me to a condescending slap on my bottom and skips out of the room.
I take a deep cleansing breath before turning to Red with a forced smile on my face. “Look, I know it’s been a rough night for you so far, sweetie, and this probably won’t make it any better. But, after I finish crippling Tiffany’s leg and exposing Aika as just another mediocre wrestler in a dumb costume, I’m going to shove that stupid hammer down your old girlfriend’s throat. Kay?”
And of course, Sadie wasn't listening to me at all and did everything I was trying to warn her not to. But since today is bizarro day, Megan doesn't wade into her, mallet first.
She even agrees that Sadie should start?
What color is the sky in this world?
Then she turns into Megan again and caresses my cheek and makes innuendos about our past. She really does like f*cking with me. I grit my teeth and look over at Sadie who understandably has gone right into the red zone of anger. I hear her threat and I just hang my head.
I let out the breath I'd been holding for a while and mumble, "I'm gettin' too old for this shit.”
