Welcome to the world of Pierce Gardner. Many of you readers were probably directed here from the story Edge of Destruction written by my friend UntilNeverDawns. Well, she got inspired by her crazy friend. She and her crazy friend decided the friend should write a spinoff, The Pierce Story. Now you'll get to learn more about why Pierce is the way she is: by no means the hero, but also not the villain she pretends to be. I hope this enhances your experience and thanks to UntilNeverDawns for her support.

Chapter 1: Welcome to My Life

Sunlight beamed down on early spring in Orlando. Birds were chirping. Spring breakers were laughing and having a good time. And I was sulking in the beautiful, lively weather that people were celebrating. I didn't have anything to celebrate – unless you count a final rejection call from yet another veterinary school. You'd think that a pristine application could get you anywhere you wanted. You'd be wrong. It wasn't my application – my hard work to gain excellent grades, shadowing hours, internships, and extracurricular activities – that was being rejected though. It was me and how I've made a living the last 4 years of my life: mixed martial arts fighting.

Perhaps I should rewind a little bit.

From the moment I turned five, my parents had me on the fast track to gaining some form of doctoral degree. My future of choice was veterinary medicine. The other choice I got to make was which athletic path I wanted to train in. My perfect parents certainly didn't expect that to be martial arts.

Anyway, my family put on a good show for the world of living the perfect life: perfect children who were perfect students, perfect jobs, perfect home, perfect everything. But I wasn't perfect, causing tension and fights between me and my family. I'll spare you the ugly details for now. We never dropped the perfect charade, though.

Our familial dynamic never got the chance to mend itself after I left home for undergraduate study at seventeen. They all died in a car accident while on the way home from moving me into my first dorm. Since my parents didn't believe in handouts, there was no insurance money to sustain me or pay for college. I had to find a way to make money for myself. My parents may have demanded greatness from me, but honestly, even without them, I would have striven for a veterinary degree anyway.

After struggling to find a combination of jobs that would allow me to afford my student bills, I stumbled upon a new use for my martial arts skills: professional (or amateur) fighting. It paid well and my previous training meant I won. A lot. So, I put myself through school and even graduated a semester early.

When it came time for applying for vet school though (once again, early), this shadowed my exemplary achievements. Apparently, former amateur MMA champion doesn't look that great on a professional, formal resume. At twenty-one years old, everything I had worked toward my entire life was thrown away.

Now back to my pity party.

Spring break in Orlando had a surprisingly large amount of drunk college guys, including an ex I hadn't seen since my freshman year. Let's just say things didn't end well and leave it at that, for the moment. I was spotted despite attempts to be passed unseen.

He waved to his friends and sauntered over to stop in front of me.

"Hey, baby. How have you been? I've missed you," he said while placing a hand on my forearm. When I went to pull my arm away, he tightened his grip.

"Sure ya did, Gavin, like a snake misses a mouse after it constricts the life out of it." I couldn't help but glare. "Still haven't learned the concept of personal space, I see." I tried again to free myself.

"Why are you fighting me?" he chuckled. "Don't you remember what happened the last time you fought me?"

Of course I remember, you predatory Neanderthal, I thought to myself. Out loud, I said, "I highly suggest you release me and just walk away." I didn't bother concealing the threatening tone in my voice.

"Or what?" he growled, easy going act having diminished. He didn't know about my training, and when I was younger I was too naïve to know what it meant to have to truly defend yourself. I wasn't that innocent girl anymore though. I was lethal.

I offered him my most menacing smile and in one swift move flipped him to the ground into an arm bar. Just a little more pressure and I'd have dislocated his shoulder.

At that point, I looked up to see three men running over to us. They must have seen my ex's threatening manner and been meaning to help but halted when they saw my defense. During my distraction, my ex ran off. The group of three then proceeded to walk toward me.

Once they got closer, I recognized them, though I feigned ignorance because I really just wanted to leave.

"Dude, that was awesome! I mean, we were coming over here to help you out but clearly you can handle yourself. I'm Jon Good," said the man who made it to me first whilst extending a hand. I glanced at it before returning my eyes to the three before me. Of course, I knew who Jon was, as well as who the other two were.

"What Jon means to say is, 'Are you ok?'" the tallest of the three asked.

"I'm fine. As your friend pointed out, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you. I appreciate the concern. Good-bye." I turned to walk away but was stopped.

"Wait, don't go. You would be an amazing wrestler," the one with the two-toned hair called.

"Yes!" Jon was apparently excited by the prospect. He then paused. "Wait, you look familiar…"

"No, thanks. I'm not a wrestler," I huffed. Under my breath I whispered, "And apparently I won't be a vet either." I walked away this time without being stopped. I didn't get very far before I noticed one of the men had followed me. I turned around. "What is it now?"

"I would like to at least part on a nicer tone. My name is Joe and –"

"You're Roman Reigns. I know," I cut him off. "And Jon is Dean Ambrose and Colby is Seth Rollins. You're the Shield. And Jon recognized me because I used to do some MMA and street fighting. I'm Pierce." There was something about Joe that just made me not want to disappoint him. His aura practically screamed "I'm a good person, and I care!" For some reason, I couldn't be defensive but instead merely young.

"Well okay then. Now that that has been established, I think you really would make a great wrestler, especially since you've already had training. The WWE could really use a girl like you."

"It's a nice offer, but I'm not interested. Fighting has screwed me out of enough of my future."

"I won't push you on this. Please, consider the offer; I'll work with you myself. Maybe this could be your new backup plan for a career. Think about it and drop by the Performance Center. Ask for me." He wrote down the address and walked back to his waiting friends.

I looked down at the note in my hands and headed back to my hotel. I couldn't help thinking to myself, What more do I really have to lose?