Totallyy NOT a wonderful life.

By: Ricky Rodriguez

Writing Prompt: Yes

Date: 25th Apr 2022

Life had become quite the whirlwind as of late. An upcoming championship opportunity in Zion was drawing closer but past that was Anne Boleyn. Ricky’s second defense of the Bloodloss Championship but his first of the Bronx. Anne’s eccentricities notwithstanding, she was a more than capable athlete in the ring and that was what Ricky needed to think about most here..or did he?

 

Rays of sun peeking through curtains somehow managed to hit directly on the sleeping face of Ricky. Getting stirred from his sleep, he laid there for a moment or two before blinking a few times, staring at the ceiling above. Suddenly, a rush of confusion washed over him completely.

 

Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what it was, not in the slightest, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Looking around that room, everything looked familiar. It was the same room he remembered falling asleep but he still couldn’t shake that feeling.

 

Rather than dwelling on it, Ricky rolled out of bed and decided to get the day going. On the way to the kitchen, he stopped to look at an office. The drafting table in particular. Taking the time to walk into that room, Ricky gazed down upon the various blueprints scattered across the surface of it. One of them stuck out more than the rest: A tower.

 

Ricky Rodriguez: ‘..this is..’

 

His brow lowering, that feeling of confusion Ricky felt grew that much more. Rubbing his forehead, he shook his head slowly before heading towards the kitchen once again. As soon as he got there, he caught sight of Alessa Holloway collecting things for breakfast. Upon seeing him, she was clearly excited as she ran to hug him. 

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘Baby! I’m surprised you’re up so early. Happily surprised, of course.’

 

The two share a brief, albeit highly passionate embrace before parting. She was quick to turn and start getting a cup of coffee ready. Ricky took a seat at the kitchen table, watching Alessa as she did so. He couldn’t help but to chew at his lip, unable to not enjoy the sight of her in the small robe that left nothing to the imagination. She turns around with the coffee, noticing Ricky checking her out. Setting the cup down in front of him, she leaned down and the two shared another kiss as she shook her head.

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘Nah, nope. Don’t even think about it, mister. You have that huge presentation you have to make, don’t forget.’

 

If even for just a moment, Ricky couldn’t remember what she was talking about. Alessa picked up on this pretty easily and spoke up.

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘Babe, you’re so spacy, it’s so cute.’

 

She leaned down, lightly kissing his cheek and ruffling his already scruffy appearing hair.

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘You have a big presentation today with those people from New York. They’re planning on building this big tower to house their new wrestling promotion.’

 

The eyes of Ricky widened noticeably as he turned his head to look at her.

 

Ricky Rodriguez: ‘What was the promotion called? I can’t seem to remember.’

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘Uhh..Fight..something, I think?’

 

Ricky Rodriguez: ‘Fight NYC.’

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘Yeah! That was it. See, I knew you’d remember.’

 

Alessa’s demeanor was cheerful but Ricky was absolutely floored. Everything came flooding back to him. He realized exactly what was wrong with this whole thing..it wasn’t his life. In this life, he took the safer, more stable route and abandoned his aspirations to be a wrestler, opting to pursue a career in architecture instead.

 

He finished out high school successfully, alongside his high school sweetheart, Alessa Holloway. There was no struggle through shitty independent promotions before being signed with OPW. No struggle to find his place in and breakthrough to prove himself in Fight. None of the friends he met. The bonds that developed. Everything was..different.

 

It was peaceful..and honestly? He hated it. Everything about it. No struggle. No sense of fulfillment or accomplishment. It didn’t feel worth it, when compared to the life he remembered. 

 

‘This isn’t right. None of this is right. This isn’t my life. I totally don’t fuckin belong here. I should be gettin ready to defend against Anne, not doin..whatever this is. This ain’t the life I made for myself, the life I fought for. I need to figure out what the fuck is goin on and how I get back.’

 

Ricky gave it a bit of thought before coming to a logical conclusion.

 

‘I’m dreamin. I gotta be fuckin dreamin. I just gotta play it out tho, right? Just like..go through the motions and see what happens? Should I..’

 

But before he could get too into his thoughts, Alessa’s voice brought him back.

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘Ricky?’

 

He shook his head quickly, regaining his senses a bit.

 

Ricky Rodriguez: ‘Yeahh..sorry..just kinda slipped off there.’

 

She smiled reassuringly, bringing her hand to lightly cup his cheek, her thumb stroking his flesh gently.

 

Alessa Holloway: ‘It’s all good. Oh! I almost forgot. Cat is coming over tonight and we’re going to celebrate your big deal.’

 

There was a clear suggestiveness to her voice as she turned Ricky’s head to face her, embracing him passionately. The rest of the day went fairly well, breakfast, ‘enjoying each other’s company’, and the preparations before the presentation, everything.

 

Even more important than all of that, the presentation went perfectly. The looks of impression and intrigue on the faces of the Fight heads, most of which he recognized but didn’t recognize him, which was a really weird feeling for him, filled Ricky with a sense of pride.

 

And just like that, Ricky was signed to be a part of the team that was to design and lead the construction of the Fight Tower. Time moved in the blink of an eye. Fight Tower had been completed and the heads of the company had invited everyone involved in the construction to a celebration party.

 

Everyone from the architects to the laborers were invited to the joyous occasion. Something Ricky found odd, when the last member of the party arrived, Ricky noticed a member of security locking the door. Not thinking much more of it, Ricky went back to the open bar and to mingle with everyone else.

 

It was a really great night, actually. Everyone was shown how much their work was appreciated. The later the night got, the more intoxicated everyone got..everyone except the higher ups. Near the end of the night, a group of well dressed people walked around with trays of champagne filled flutes, passing them out. The sound of clinking glass filled the air as everyone turned their attention to the woman standing at the front of the conference room.

 

Miss F: ‘First and foremost, on behalf of everyone at Fight, I would like to thank everyone of you involved in the planning and construction of this..modern marvel. Fight Tower will set a precedent when it comes to the wrestling world. Promotions all over the world will look to this tower and think to themselves..this is what we need to aspire to be. And for that..we thank you. Cheers.’

 

She held her own glass up as a rousing approval emitted from everyone there, Ricky included. The entire group raised their glasses in unison before drinking the contents down without hesitation. Only a couple moments passed before people started to realize something was horribly wrong.

 

Miss F: ‘Unfortunately, there are secrets within this tower that, under no circumstances, can get out to the public. Which means..none of you may leave this room alive.’

 

Those few words sent a deathly chill throughout the room. A few people began to cough, seemingly unable to stop themselves. Some even began hacking up wads of blood.

 

Miss F: ‘But just know this: Your sacrifice was instrumental in changing an entire industry. You can all rest peacefully knowing the impact you had.’

 

With each moment that passed, the guests began to grow worse. What started with coughing up blood turned into the same crimson liquid freely flowing from eyes..ears..noses..every orifice imaginable. Before he was too far gone, one of the workers stormed where Miss F. stood, not even making it within arm’s reach of her before a bullet was put between his eyes.

 

One by one, the people who worked themselves to the bone to ensure Fight Tower was everything they wanted began to drop like flies, the color draining from their faces entirely. Ricky was one of those who hit the floor, blood steadily flowing from his eyes, his ears, and his nose all three. Struggling to remain conscious, Ricky hated everything about this.

 

‘I wanna wrestle..I don’t..want..this..’

 

The last sight Ricky saw as the final breath left his body was the sight of Miss F, standing there, completely and utterly stoic at the sight before her.

 

Without warning, Ricky gasped out before shooting up to a seated position, woken from a dead sleep. A thin layer of cold sweat covered the bare body of Ricky. His chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain his composure. He turned and saw the sleeping body of his wife, Jennie.

 

The biggest sigh of relief ever rolled out of Ricky. Just to be sure, he placed his hand on her arm and gave her a firm shake to stir her from her sleep. She looked up at him and groggily spoke up.

 

Jennie: ‘Baby, what’s wrong?’

 

Ricky: ‘Do you think I’m gonna beat Anne?’

 

A flash of confusion showed across her face before she nodded her head.

 

Jennie: ‘Of course, baby. You’re a double champion for a reason, she can’t compete with that.’

 

Ricky: ‘Goddamn, I love you.’

 

Jennie: ‘I love you too..now go back to bed.’

 

Ricky laughed softly before laying back down. He cuddled up against her, their bare bodies pressed together as Ricky felt a wave of peacefulness washing through him. Finding himself a bit unable to get back to sleep. Rather than toss and turn for the rest of the night, he waited until he felt the body of Jennie fall back asleep. 

 

Very carefully, Ricky got out of that bed, taking a look back at the sleeping Jennie, resting peacefully. A soft smile grew across his face as he walked out of the bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before walking out back. He took a seat in one of the chairs before taking a long drink from the bottle.

 

‘No matter what reality it is..Fight is my destiny. Whether it be good, bad, or everythin in between..this place has been my home since the day those doors opened. I’ve learned so much here..gained so much here..and even lost so much here. All of that has culminated in who I am today..a champion.

 

Anne Boleyn will not take that from me..she can’t take that from me. I fought with everythin I have in me to get where I am and I will fight with sooo much more to stay where I am. Call it desperation..call it intensity..call it whatever the fuck you wanna call it. I’m gonna do whatever I hafta do to keep myself where I am.

 

I’ve been Queen’s Champion before and it’s a fate worse than you can imagine. It’s literally a championship you can’t be happy bout winnin. Sure, a guy like Murphy benefitted hugely from it but let’s be honest..I’m not Murphy. I want somethin you can actually win..not somethin that is basically a fuckin dunce cap.

 

My first Bronx Championship defense. I already defended the Bloodloss Championship against someone a wholeeeelottabit more intimidatin..bigger..stronger..more..mentally stable than Anne Boleyn.

 

She will not take what I’ve earned. She will not take what I’ve bled for. She will not take..what’s..mine.’