So this past week I've gorged myself with Jon Moxley promos from pre-WWE days and my, my, my, is he fun to watch. Recently I got into my head about paring AJ Lee and Dean Ambrose together and I've been obsessed with the pairing ever since.
This story will be the result of my sudden obsession and I really hope it goes well. A note to everyone, I will be using real names throughout the entire story. Ring names will only be used when, and if, necessary.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters of AJ Lee, Dean Ambrose, and CM Punk are properties of World Wrestling Entertainment. April Mendez, Jonathan Good, and Phillip Brooks own themselves.
Union City, New Jersey - 1998
She sat on the bench, wrapping her hands with the white tape that she saw every other wrestler use. She kept her head low and focused on the task at hand than at the jeering boys that passed her. She felt the strong urge to reach up and rub the bridge of her nose, but she knew that if she did that, it would give away the fact that she wanted to cry.
A tall boy, lean and loaded with muscles, no older than the age of sixteen, passed and kicked her foot out of her position, sending the sitting pre-adolescent stumbling to the floor. This only caused the entire boys locker room to erupt in laughter.
She landed on her knees, with her swollen wrist saving her from falling face first into the wet concrete floor. She whimpered quietly as the pain shot up her entire arm. The boy, who went by the name of Kyle Brody, turned around and feigned shock. "Oh shit April, did I hurt you? Sorry, I think I miss took you for a wrestler," he readjusted his nonexistent glasses on his perfectly chiseled nose. "Might want to get glasses, do you know a good optometrist? I mean, you have to know one, with those two inch thick glasses you're wearing." He only smirked down at her as the boys behind him laughed again.
She looked up at him and gave him the nastiest glare she could muster. Slowly, she rose to her feet and sat down, cradling her injured wrist to her chest. This simple action, however, seemed to anger Brody. His milky white face turned a slight pink with anger and his golden brows furrowed together. "Why the hell are you here AJ? You know damn well that you don't belong here, so why is it that every single fucking day that I walk through those doors, I see you getting all prepped up for a match that you're just never going to get?"
She glared at him again. As soon as she opened her mouth, however, Brody cut her off again. "No, you know what; you don't get to talk to me. Do you know who I am? I'm Kyle fucking Brody. I'm somebody in this circuit, unlike you, okay? Come Scout Day, I'll get picked an-..." his expression suddenly changed so rapidly that it caught her off guard. Instead of being pink with rage, he returned to his white complexion and a kind, almost gentle smile, graced his beautiful face.
He knelt down in front of her and smiled warmly at her. She furrowed her brows in confusion and pursed her lips. She looked over the face of the most attractive wrestler in the circuit with hesitation. His perfectly squared jaw was sharp, his cheek bones high and prominent, his nose narrow, his eyes blue and bright, and his hair just a beautiful shade of gold. She couldn't help but take a double take at his eyes though.
While his face and body mimicked that of sympathy and gentleness, his eyes were not. In depth, she saw the hatred and the rage swimming in the pools of blue. He leaned forward and placed his icy cold hands on her knees gently. She didn't want to admit it, but the feeling of his cool skin against her heated flesh felt nice.
"... and you know what? When I get picked by the World Wrestling Federation, I'll talk to my Scout and convince them to bring you too," she found it almost comical how all the teenage boys gasped at Brody's words. She saw the disgust and anger in each of their faces. Despite his body language and said words, she knew the real interior of Kyle Brody. Then she felt the pressure from his hands on her knees turn almost painful as he pressed his thumb harshly into her patellar tendon. She turned her head away the second he opened his mouth, already knowing that his next words were anything but kind. "Every WWF superstar deserves a bitch at their feet."
With the eruption of the locker room again, she clenched her fist, the tape long forgotten, pushed his hands away from her knees, and all but ran out of the compressed room. She had received worse verbal lashings before, but this was a first from Brody. He spat insults at her when she was the last in the locker room to leave or taunted her when she trained, but he always did so when they were alone. Never in front of his friends and the entire CYW locker room.
She passed the rest of the old lockers and quickly spun her combination in, biting on her lip as the tears threatened to spill. After her locker just refused to open, her eyesight completely clouded with tears, she gave out a small cry and collapsed against the locker, letting out the frustration, anger, and depression she felt throughout the entire day out. So she just leaned against the cold metal, brought her knees to her chest, and rested her forehead against her tender knees.
"Shh, it's okay, I'm fine, we're fine, you're fine..." she muttered to herself, breathing in and out to level her breathing and erratic heartbeat down. "Ignore them AJ, they're just idiots, don't let them mess with you." She was only her talking to herself, but her heartbeat seemed to slow down enough to breath normally. "You are so much better than them. You don't need them. You got this. You can do this."
After ten minutes sitting at the foot on the lockers, she sighed and brought her hand to brush her hair out of the way as she shakily stood up. Bringing both her eyes to brush any remaining tears away, she then inputted her combination and grabbed her duffle and keys.
Slipping her sweater on and slinging her duffle across her chest, she quietly walked her way out of the abandon warehouse where she competed in. Unlocking her bike at the rear entrance of the aged building, she took a second look at the worn out structure.
She couldn't help but smile ruefully. "I'll make it one day, just watch..."
Cincinnati, Ohio - 1998
"What the fuck are you doing Jonathan? Get the over here now!" The voice that was supposed to make his heart swell with love and adoration only brought a terrible shiver to his spine. He was terrified of leaving his room in fear of what his mother's boyfriend could do to him. At thirteen, he was more than independent and he didn't need anyone to tell him what to do.
But David had been drinking, and he always hated when he was drinking.
Carefully, Jon opened the door and slightly peeked his head out, his grey blue eyes hyper aware of his every surrounding. He noticed the dingy couch, splattered with various spilled drinks and reeking of the stench of cigarettes. The filthy dining room table, littered with full and half empty bottles of Jack and surrounded with more debris and butts from cigarettes. The tiny living area was graced with a deadly cloud of smoke that made him wheeze.
However, the giant sack of shit that made up his mother's boyfriend wasn't in sight. "Jon! Where the fuck are you? Do you want me to beat your ass again?" The fifteen year old froze when his mind registered where David was. Turning his head, he focused his gaze on the closed, and most likely locked, bathroom door.
The fucking bathroom.
Ever since his five year old head gripped the idea that the bathroom wasn't a nice place to be, he avoided the place like a plague. If he needed to shower, then he'd go to school at least an hour early to use the showering facilities the school offered. He'd go to the bathroom before, during, and after school to avoid using the bathroom at home.
"Jonathan!"
With one swift motion, he shut his eyes and gripped the unnaturally cold feeling of the handle, opened the door.
He wanted to keep his eyes closed, he wanted to avoid seeing all the terrible things the bathroom held, but if he did, he was a 100% sure he'd get his ass beat. Opening his eyes one by one, he saw David on the floor of the dirty bathroom, his pants to his ankles and a joint in one hand. Lying naked in the tub next to him, his mother's pale arm was wrapped tight in David's belt with several injection marks near her antecubital. A single syringe in her near limp hand.
He bit on his tongue and gripped the handle to keep himself from crying out.
Lazily rolling his head to meet Jon's, David smiled. "Jooonnn," he felt his skin crawl hearing his name come from his mouth, "why don't you run down to the store and get me me some moreee," his voice trailed off as he patted the area around him, no doubt looking for his drugs. Finding the tiny bag filled with cocaine, David smiled as he motioned for Jon to come closer.
He hesitated.
The lazy smiled that the joint put on David's face instantly disappeared. Watching as the large man stumbled to get up, Jon shrunk in fear. He hated the way that he always reacted violently to David, but almost daily he sat there and took his beatings like a man, even though deep down inside he felt like a little bitch.
Foolishly, he made a quick glance for the door. How he hoped he could just run, run out of the tiny apartment, run out of the trouble he was always finding himself in, he just wanted to run out of this torturous life that he lived in. Snapping his head back, he locked eyes with David, who gave him another skin crawling smile.
He paled.
"You want to run boy?" Fuck. "You want to see if you can make it out? Is that what you want?" The high that David had been in was all gone as he took unsteady steps toward him. The pants that pooled around David's fat legs halted his trek only a few times, and Jon could of wished that he had run earlier, but it was too late.
Grabbing him by hem of his shirt, David slammed him to the wall behind him. Jon turned his head the opposite direction as David's hot breath blew down his neck. "Don't fuck with me you little shit. Who the fuck do you think you are?" David roared into his ear, "You're fucking nobody and you always will be! When I tell you to come here, you will fucking listen to me!" Spurred by his own words, his grip tightened and he slammed the boy into the wall again, this time pressing his sweaty body against his.
He pursed his lips and bit his tongue to refrain himself from crying as David said more vile things in his ear, he tried not to focus on how absolutely disgusted he felt as David continued to press his naked lower body into his.
He wouldn't give this man the pleasure of seeing him cry.
The grip he had on his shirt eventually went away and Jon crumbled to the floor. Kneeling down, David harshly gripped his dark blond hair and neared his head so his impossibly thin lips were inches from the shell of his ear. "You still want to run Jonathan? You still want to fucking run?" his voice increased as he stood, bringing Jon to stand to his feet, "then fucking run!" Pushing the boy violently, it sent Jon crashing to the floor.
Without looking back, Jon scrambled to get up and he bolted toward the door, breathing harshly as David's hideous cackle invaded his mind.
It was raining, the heavy sleets of rain completely drenching Jon as he ran. He didn't know where he was going, he just kept his head down and stared at his feet and went where ever they carried him.
He hated him. He fucking hated him. And he wanted him to die. Too absorbed him his own thoughts, he didn't see himself running into an blocked off alley. Running straight into a solid brick wall, Jon crashed to the floor. Groaning, he picked himself up and huddled in the corner of the alley, his knees pressed to his chest and his fists clenched.
"Jooonnn,"
It only took him a second to remember the way he called his name before the tears came streaming down his face. He didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve shit, yet David was more than ready to give him that.
"You're fucking nobody and you always will be!"
"I am somebody, you piece of fucking shit!" He cried to himself, pounding his fists against his knees, the heavy rain covering his tears, "I will fucking be someone!"
He was glad that the alleyway was abandoned. He was glad that it was raining. He didn't want anyone seeing Jonathan fucking Good crying his eyes out. It wasn't in his nature to cry like a pussy, but goddamn it, it broke his already shattered heart more seeing his mother that way. He had lost count of many times he had told her to leave David, but she'd only tell him to shut the fuck up because he didn't know any better.
And so he would stand there and let her destroy her own life by letting the fucking monster she loved control hers.
After half an hour of pouring rain, the rain finally let up. He didn't move from his position; he wasn't ready to go home. He wasn't ready to face his probably sobered mother or the intoxicated fuck that was her boyfriend, so he continued to sit there.
Finally, after the discomfort from sitting in the same position for close to an hour got to him, he stood up. Letting his head fall back, he leaned against the brick wall and briefly enjoyed the cold raindrops that splattered around his face. "I'll make it one day, just watch..."
So this is my first attempt at any character paring and I really want to get some feedback on it.
Should I continue? Stop? Please let me know, reviews are very much appreciated. If I manage to get at least five reviews, I'm more than happy to post chapter two!