Title: Latina Heat
Plot: After the tragic death of her father, Lillie Belle was determined to bring back honor to the Guerrero name. But when she finds out that she isn't who she thinks she is, how will she take the news? And what does her arch nemisis have to do with it?
Disclaimer I own Lille and only Lillie.
Warning: M for later chapters.
Chapter One: Growing Up Guerrero
All my life I wanted to be just like my dad. I didn't play with dolls, I played with toy cars. I didn't watch shows on the Disney Channel or Cartoon Network, I watched wrestling. That was something that the two of us never really got along with. He didn't like me watching wrestling, even though that's what he was. See, my dad is the great Eddie Guerrero. Yeah, that's right, I'm Lille Belle Guerrero.
I had my first run in with a superstar other than my family when I was ten. It was Thanksgiving and my dad was making a big deal about his friend Rey coming over. I was only ten at the time and was in my first stage of WWE fanism: adoration. When Dad opened the door and I saw Rey standing there, I instantly recognized him. I mean, this was the luchador I had admired and wanted to be like. It made me silent all night and when Rey asked me about what grade I was in, I blurted out: "I'm your biggest fan!" There is nothing more embarrassing than sitting at a dinner table with two WWE superstars and telling the one that isn't your father that you are their biggest fan. I don't care how young I was, it was absolutely mortifying.
My dad, Uncle Rey (as I had grown to call him after that incident because of how close he was to my family), and cousin Chavo were never really home. They spent most of their time out on the road and I spent most of my time at home with my mom. Let's get one thing straight: my mom NEVER acted like she does on television when we were a happy family. She was always the good housewife who cooked delicious suppers and stayed faithful to a loving husband. I don't know what it was but something changed in my mom when she got on T.V.
I was 15 when my mom got the call that fateful November day. I had just gotten home from training with my Uncle Hector and my mom was in the kitchen at the table crying. "Mami? Is everything good?"
She looked up at me and whipped the tears from her eyes, "Sit down sweetie. We have to have a talk."
That right there told me something was seriously wrong. I sat across from her, "Okay. What's going on?"
"Sweetheart…your papi was found dead in his hotel room this morning."
I felt my heart hit rock bottom and I became numb but I didn't start crying. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't! My dad was only in his thirties. People that young just didn't drop dead in hotel rooms. "Are…how…"
"Heart attack," my mom nodded.
I nodded, still not crying. Like I said before, I wanted to be just like my dad. I never saw him cry, except for when he won the title, so I would never cry. I suddenly remembered what he had told me when I was just five years old. It was during one of his rare appearances at home. I had been playing outside and had scraped my knee up pretty bad. I came running to him inside and while he was cleaning it off he said, "Buck up Lillie Belle. Tears are our way of saying the words we can't. I know you can talk." For some reason those words were what struck me the most. I didn't cry when I found out he was dead, I didn't cry when I went to the star studded funeral, I didn't even cry when I gave my speech on Friday Night Smackdown about my dad. I was sad but I never cried. All I could hear were the words he told me when I was five.
After dad died, I gave up on a life in the ring. In fact, I gave up on much of a life at all. Mom had started to become cold and bitter, Chavo and Uncle Rey were always gone, and someone had to help pay for the house. I quit school and got two jobs: one at a nearby resteraunt as a waitress and the other at a nearby horse racing track shoveling manure. I even started doing something I had sworn to my dad that I would never do: I started cutting. It was a way to face my inside pain without having to tell the world. I hated what I had become one day I tried to end it all with a simple slit of the wrist. Notice I said try.
I woke up afterwards in a hospital room with Rey, Chavo, and my mom sitting next to me. "Lillie…thank god your okay," Chavo smiled.
"Yeah," I said rolling my eyes.
"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell us?" my mom asked.
"It helped. I had to be strong and it helped," I replied softly. It was then that realization dawned on me. This wasn't honoring my dad. In fact, this was not only tarnishing my name but the Guerrero name as well. I didn't want that. I wanted my dad to be proud of me. That was the last time I ever went to the hospital for cutting and the last time I ever did cut. I started training with my Uncle Hector again and even got my G.E.D.
Then one summer my life really picked up. Rey and Chavo had come over for my 18th birthday. We were laughing and talking and Rey stood up on a chair to propose a toast. "To Lillie Belle Guerrero, Smackdown's newest diva. That is, if she wants it."
I was speechless. Me? On Smackdown? "Rey do…do you mean it?" I smiled.
"Vince told me to offer the job to you. What's it gonna be? Yes or no?"
"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes," I shouted. I shot up like a daisy through the snow. I hugged Rey and then Chavo and then my mom. But if I had known then what I would be getting myself into, I would have thought it out first.