Make no mistake this is a Dean Ambrose/OC story, but I wanted to try something different. For anyone who does not know, Lucha Underground is real, and so are the people described except my OC Lilia, she belongs to me. If you don't know anything about Underground, don't worry you don't need to, but if you have the time I would recommend it. I would really like some feed back, this was an idea that came out of nowhere and I ran with it, but if this story doesn't get any love than I wont bother to keep going with it, it would take up time that I could be using on something else. But if I do get a good amount of feedback, I would love to continue.
I do not own any recognizable character, I did this to see what people thought of my idea.
Remember read and review, thank you.
Boyle Heights Los Angeles, the factory districts:
Live taping: Lucha Underground
Matt Striker- What's up everybody I'm Matt Striker and this is Vampiro, you've arrived at the Temple of Lucha Underground, we wanna give a special shout out to our live music entertainment and wow do we have a great show tonight. Tonight if you can imagine it gets even bigger, for the first time we have a match between Angelico and Lilia.
Vampiro- YES! Angelico had this coming, he is just lucky Lilia wants to do this her self or Mil Muertes would be gunning for him. I don't understand, does Angelico have a death wish. To even risk the wrath of Mil Muertes but now he has to deal with Lilia, who happens to be one of the best women's champions in the world.
Matt Striker- You're right Vamp, for the last few nights Angelico has been messing with Lilia, and last week when he actually attempted to kiss her she decided enough was enough. And now we have tonight's main event.
Ring announcer Melissa Santos:
The following match is set for one fall. introducing first, currently in the ring from Johannesburg, South Africa… ANGELICO!
Matt Striker- this is a luchador who has cut through the heart of every fan in this temple. Are you a fan Vamp?
Vampiro- No, but I agree with you man, and I see the girls are freaking out over this guy, he does have a nice waist line but that's not my thing.
Ring announcer Melissa Santos:
And his opponent, Los Angeles's own… LILIA!
Matt Striker- You heard it correctly, it will be Lilia tonight. Last week Lilia and Angelico had an interaction when Angelico thought he could lay some moves on her and he had the audacity to try and kiss her. She was not happy about that.
Vampiro- No kidding man, I heard it took both Ivelisse and Son of Havoc just to get her away from him. Oh here she comes man. You know you look at her and she's so small but built like a true Hispanic women, curves, attitude and all. But then you see her in the ring and you cannot help but be impressed. I say it all the time, we can beat you over the head by telling you about gender equality and women's lib, but just watch the matches and see for your self. Lucha Underground brings you the best competition regardless.
Matt Striker- You know what I'm wondering man, where is Mil Muertes, he escorts Lilia everywhere, but tonight he is nowhere to be seen.
Vampiro- I guess we just have to wait and see man. And here we go the bell was just rung.
My name is Lilia Esperanza Sanchez, and I am not a WWE Diva. There was never a moment in my career were becoming one was my goal. Now I must admit that as a young girl I was a huge fan of the monumental industry. I watched the shows and hoped to one day see one live. At the age of seven it seemed my wish would come true. WWE had come to Los Angeles, for one night only. I heard the news from a boy at school, and I remember running home and waiting for my father to get out of work to tell him the good news.
Unfortunately my good news was answered with bad. We could not afford the cost to attend the show. It wasn't my fathers fault and I knew this and did not blame him, but it did not help my low spirits. Seeing my disappointment my father asked me a question that I would never forget, he asked.
"¿Te gusta la lucha libre o el espectáculo?" 'Do you like the wrestling or the show?' and I asked him, 'what do you mean? the wrestling is the show.' His question puzzled me, and all he said was he had got the answer he needed. The strange question along with the lack of response from my father had me thinking for days. Eating my breakfast, in the school room, and late at night while in bed I thought. This went on for three days, when that Friday as I began to exit my school, I see my father waiting for me. Seeing my father out of work this early was very strange for me. Now mind you, my father was always a very hard worker in every aspect of his life.
Roberto Juan Sanchez worked hard in life since the day his parents and his eight brothers and sisters came to Los Angeles from Mexico, when he was eight years old. Coming to this country and not being able to speak the language was tough for everyone, but the kids learned quickly. Grade school, junior high, and high school wasn't the easiest thing for Roberto, especially with the constant pressures of the many gangs East LA had to offer the young men during that time. But he kept to school, even when some of his own brothers fell into the violence of the hood gangs. Graduating school, and one year of college before he and my mother were blessed with their first baby girl, my sister Estephanie.
After that their was no longer the option of school for my father as he had his own family to take care of, and it was off to work. Working four years at the metal stripping plant before I showed up, then five more years of the strip when my little sister Alexia came into the world. And of all those years my father has never missed his nine hours of work a day, five, sometimes six days a week.
As a young child seeing him there was a very happy surprise for me. Taking my fathers hand we began to walk in the direction of the city bus stop, we rode the bus for what seemed to me like a very long time. On the outer limits of down town we arrived in the factory districts, and by this time my little mind began to become curious. Entering one of the warehouses doors my heart exploded with joy.
All around the walls were folding metal chairs filled with people laughing and screaming, and in the middle of the room was a ring. But it wasn't like any wrestling I had ever seen on TV before, the men and women were wearing colorful masks and they were jumping and flying through the air. My father could not afford WWE but he could afford Lucha Libre, and after that night this underground wrestling became bigger to me then anything. But my story really starts a few years later.
Four years later and in Griffith middle school my art class was donated a field trip all expenses paid to the Museum of Art in downtown LA. Before entering the museum our art teacher informed us that there would be only one other class in the whole museum with us. A freshmen class from a private school in the city, and that it was most crucial that we be on our best behavior so that they might invite us back the next year. Because the museum was so large we did not see the other class until well into the middle of the tour and right before our lunch break.
While eating our lunch a group of the high school students began to become a little louder than other tables, and as a girl from my class got up to dispose of her lunch one of the boys got up from his table and began to speak with her. I began to take notice when the older boy placed his hand on her upper back, and I could see the girls discomfort. But what had me leave my seat was when his hand fell to her bottom. Pulling the girl from him I voiced to him, to leave her alone and as we began to walk away the boy began to hurl insults at me. Being thicker then girls my own age I easily ignored his comment about my weight, and I dismissed his insult about my intelligence, but the comment that had me turn around and begin to attack the boy was the racial slur.
I was restricted from the rest of the trip and detained on the bus, and when we reached school once again my mother was called in to hear of my outburst and punishment. That night when my father came home I sat quietly on the couch waiting for his response. When he finally spoke he did not yell or get angry, he asked me what had happened to warrant my attack. I informed my father of the older boy and the way he was behaving. He was outraged to say the least, so much so that the next day he called in late for work to take me to school and have a discussion with the board.
I was not allowed in but I could hear the discussion as it was happening. The school was worried that because the boy came from a privileged family that it would interfere with there art classes. If I did not apologies to him the school would be forced to give back the donation that allowed them to attend the museums for free. I would be suspended for two weeks, and I would no longer be able to be in the art and cultures class. My father told them that they could suspend me, for it was in their power to do so, but that they could not force me to apologies for doing what I thought was right.
They brought me back in and asked what my decision would be. I accepted their punishment, and that I would apologies to the boy, I took it all in silence. Sitting in the school parking lot in an old AMC Pacer that was only in use for my father driving to work or for when we went farther than the city bus limit. I sat in the back seat quietly and I could see my father looking at me through the rearview mirror. And he asked me.
"Cómo te sientes?" 'how do you feel?' I told him that I didn't know.
"Estás enojado?" and I thought, no I was not angry. I was sad that I could no longer take the art and cultures class, but other than that I was upset. I was upset that the school was being threatened the removal of the donation, and I was upset that I would have to apologies to a mean boy who thought I was beneath him because of my race. And I told my father as such, and he asked me why I chose to apologies when I had done nothing wrong. I told him that I would do it because it was not fair for the art classes to be denied the wonderful opportunity to go to such beautiful places because of my decision to fight even if I did not regret why.
My father nodded his head and looked out the front window shield, in that moment I looked at my father. Gray hairs have begun to show and he had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, both his labored and joyful life showing its wear on his 36 year old face. When he started to drive he took route to the streets that did not lead to our home but to a place I knew so well.
Arriving at the warehouse that held the lucha libre matches had me wondering what we doing there in the middle of the week. My father walked me to an upstairs office where a man I recognized sat at a desk. The mans name was Adolfo Gonzalez and he owned the warehouse that held the matches. During our years of coming to these shows my father became friendly with the usual crowds, and Adolfo too followed suit. My father told him of my altercation with the high school boy, and he told him that if he was up for it, that I could be his next student.
My shock was evident. Adolfo seeing this began to laugh and the large man leaned down to asses me. He told my father that with my age it would be best to start with mixed martial arts to gain control, than after a period of time I would begin to learn the lucha moves. My father agreed and as he turned to me he spoke of his actions behind bringing me here. He said.
"Hay gente en este mundo que van a decirte, que no eres lo suficientemente bueno, en todo lo que haces tiene que luchar y empuje no sólo para probar a los que se puede sobrevivir sino para mostrar que usted es más fuerte que ellos." 'There are people in this world that are going to tell you, that you are not good enough, in everything you do you must fight and push to not only prove to them that you can survive but to show them that you are stronger than they are.'
I spent the next four years wrestling and competing everywhere in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and of course my home state of California. My teen life was busier than most with the training, my schooling, and state touring every spring, summer, thanksgiving, and winter break along with long holiday weekends. I got good, but my father never wanted my wrestling to interfere with my grades and if I every received the grade bello was not allowed to compete out of state, if I received below a C, no more training until it became a B or A.
Needless to say I graduated high school earlier than expected and for the rest of the year I was seventeen was spent in out of state touring. But a week before my eighteenth birthday the touring brought us to Corpus Christi TX. Waking up early one morning my father took me to the Seawall, sitting peacefully with my father is one of the most fondest memories I have, but the silence did not last when my father told me he had something to confess.
He told me that when I was fifteen he received a call from Monterrey Mexico, saying that they wanted me to wrestle in their professional division, contract ready. I remember I sat there silently watching as my father became more anxious the longer I was silent. I asked him 'why he kept this from me?' He told me that taking that step was a decision that I was not yet ready to make reasonably. He said that people only get a handful of life changing choices in their whole lives, where they are faced with a crossroads that will alter their future, and he wanted me to make that decision on my own when I rationally could.
He said this was my moment, right here on these steps I had to decide, I could not take longer than high tide. When I told him that I wanted to think about this through, that I would need more time, he just shook his head.
"Con la gente, algo que este cambio de vida, usted sabe lo que está en tu corazón, y todo lo que hay que hacer es asomarse a verlo." he said, 'with people, something this life changing, you know what is in your heart, and all you need to do is peek to see it.'
I didn't need to tell him my decision, I didn't have to, he knew where I wanted to go, and so the week after my birthday I headed down to Monterrey Mexico, hopeful but for the first time without my father.
When he told me that he would not be coming with me I was a little hesitant to continue on this path. Going to Mexico to become a professional wrestler was taxing on its own, but doing all of this on my own was what frightened me. My father told me.
"Está bien tener miedo. Sin tener la oportunidad de enfrentarse a los miedo, no podían llamarse valiente. Sé valiente mi niña y enfrenta su miedo." 'It is alright to be frightened. Without having the opportunity to face ones fear, they could not call themselves brave. Be brave my little girl and face your fear.'
Just myself and Adolfo headed to Mexico where I had one goal only. To wrestle anyone I had to, to become the best in every company I entered. It didn't matter to me if they were heel or face. And I believe this mentality to bull through who I needed to, no matter the name, is what got me the admiration of the fans.
I spent a year and a half working my ass of in Mexico, and the other six months working even harder and without rest fighting around the world. Those six months were the most difficult and taxing time in my life, but I loved every minute of it, gaining global success and the love and respect of its people. I was one of the youngest world touring champions in the wrestling industries, but little did I know that unwanted attentions began to take notice as well.
Now twenty years old and for the first time in two years I stepped foot on American soil. Back in my home town of Los Angeles with a week of rest Adolfo came to me with opportunity. There was recent development of a wrestling company that will take it big very soon and they wanted me in their main roster. A contract deal. Having had companies come to me before and knowing my distaste for the way some companies worked, I knew this would be something different or he would not have voiced his interest.
Driving to where these matches were held I was not prepared for what was in store. Boyle Heights, the factory districts. Held in a warehouse that was very close to where I held my first training. Going in to meet the owner was something very surreal to me, seeing all the wrestlers training and conversing with each other was like stepping back in time. The owner was a skinny man with a black suit and his dark hair slick back. He told me what he thought of me and why he wished for me to join his 'Temple'. He informed me that I would be one out of only three women wrestlers in the company. I told him that I very much enjoyed the way things were set and the wrestlers that he had, so I shook hands with Dario Cueto, and signed my contract. As Adolfo and I began to take our exit Dario called out.
"Oh and before I forget. Welcome Lilia, to Lucha Underground."
I was not costumed to too much acting when it came to my wrestling career, I firmly believed if what you were feeling was real bring it out on the mat. But I learned my role was fairly simple. There was a lucha wrestler who went by the name Mil Muertes, a thousand deaths. He and his manager the very hostel Catrina have a very unique relationship. In the ring Mil's back story was one of tragedy and death as he raised form the ashes of the earthquake that put to rest, his entire family when he was just a boy. Under the mask and silent most of the time, Catrina did most of the talking. She was a very good heel, with her own trade mark move 'the lick of death' where who ever she licked, whether it be in or out of the ring, Mil Muertes would come for them.
My role in their relationship was fairly simple, when I came into the picture just after Catrina betrays him with the lick of death, I would become his new light. I would accompany him to his matches and he would do the same for me, it was a very simple role, to tame the very large tattooed beast that was Mil Muertes. But things that start out simple soon become not so simple.
His name was Gilbert Cosme but he never liked his name so everyone called him by his past ring name Ricky Banderas. He was born in Porto Rico may 25, 1975, he was 39 years old and he was my partner, Mil Muertes. Getting to know him was one of the easiest things in the world, he was a good man who was excellent at playing heel, and our on camera relationship quickly became a off camera relationship.
My career, my family, my love life was all in good graces by my 21st birthday. But all would begin to change when Adolfo, my real life manager and trainer received a call from a wrestling icon, well to most. I was requested to come on air in the staples center on an episode of Monday Night Raw by Vince McMahon himself, for what, he didn't say. When Dario heard of this news he was more than thrilled to have his company represented on such a large channel by one of his most beloved characters, and what the boss wants the boss gets, unfortunately.
So here I am in the back of a black 1931 rolls royce phantom ii drophead coupe. It wasn't my choice of transportation, but Dario insisted. Non of it mattered to me as long as I had Mil Muertes in character at my side, even if he was in an all black suit instead of his blue luchador pants, mask on and sitting by my side, nothing could touch me. I just need to keep telling myself this as our car comes up to the staples center private parking lot, well here goes nothing.
Well that was update number one, let me know what you all think. I really love to hear your thoughts. Remember if you love, show love. Maybe I'll see you all soon.
