Prologue

Date: 1 November 2011

Day: Tuesday

City: Topeka, KS

Place: Little Valenkov Motel

Tristan Yourk was startled to the sound of his alarm. He slowly pried his eyes open to the blaring siren that lay on his nightstand. He groaned. Oh just five more minutes, he internally groaned. Tristan wanted some more sleep, but he had an interview at the Kansas Wrestling Association that he would need to get to. He was a wrestler; he wanted to make it to the big stage; the WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment.

He had worked hard at a very young age for his dream; many people mocked him on his way saying that wrestling's fake or showing their disapproval of not wanting to make more of his life. Tristan didn't want to go with the crowd; he wanted to do what he loved, and what he loved was wrestling. It had been his dream for as long as he could remember watching his first match on his television.

Tristan slammed his palm against the off button to his alarm; upon doing so, he made his slow trek to waking up, stretching his arms out wide above him and to his sides and sat up. His throat was dry. He couldn't breathe through his nose, he could only breathe through his mouth and so he constantly had dry mouth in the morning but nothing that a quick drink from the sink's faucet couldn't fix.

Through bleary eyes, Tristan looked at the time. It was 3:30 in the morning. Most people at his age wouldn't be getting up until about 10 in the morning or even 12 in the afternoon, however he always thought that getting up early was a sign of having discipline; something that was desperately needed for anyone wanting to go into the pro wrestling business. Being a wrestler isn't as easy as one may think it is. It's not just a job or a career even. It's a way of life. Anyone that takes it lightly won't survive five seconds in the business much less for an entire career.

Tristan got up from the cheap motel bed, walked to the bathroom, his feet padding against the hard surface as he went, turned on the water faucet in the sink, cupped his hands together, he watched as the water cascaded down from the faucet into his hands, occasionally spilling over into the sink; he brought his hands filled with the elixir of life, brought it up to his lips and he sucked it into his mouth, like a mosquito drinking blood from its victim.

Tristan then turned the knob in the shower and put his hand under the water, making sure it was a nice warm temperature, not too hot and not too cold. He then took care of his business and then he stripped his clothes from his body and placed them in a pile in the corner of the bathroom, placed a towel down on the floor and put another on the rack closest to the bathtub, he got in and closed the shower curtain and let the water wash over his face and head cascading down his body like a waterfall before using soap.

10 minutes later

Tristan turned the knob from the shower and the water stopped, opened the shower curtain, grabbed the towel, dried his hair quickly, stepped out onto the towel he had set on the floor, preventing the floor getting wet, and he dried his body off.

Crap, he thought. He had forgotten his clothes. Tristan wrapped the towel around his waist, opened the door to the motel bathroom, padded across the room to his duffel bag which contained most of what he owned. Clothes, soap, Kleenexes, toilet paper, a tooth brush and a tube of toothpaste, an iPod Touch Generation 5, a laptop computer, an old flip phone, and chargers for each.

He didn't have much, but he was happy because he was pursuing his dream. He wasn't known for giving up, and he had worked his whole life training for his chance to shine. To get signed by a promotion and to work his way to the WWE. For the last three years Tristan had been wrestling in backyards and small school gymnasiums for work. Anything to pay for what he needed. He even used to mow lawns, but that wasn't exactly portable and he had to sell it 6 months after leaving because he couldn't take it everywhere and he had desperately needed money. Well he still did, but it was worse then. He had gotten extremely used to living on his own to survive. A wrestler's life is not an easy life and he was super determined and motivated.

After being sure he had everything he needed, Tristan took a look at the digital clock on the nightstand near the bed and it was 4:15 in the morning. He had a long walk. The meeting was at 7:00 but he needed to leave early enough to get there by then because he didn't have a car and he didn't have money to pay for transportation, not that is a big thing in Kansas unless it is in a more populated area.

Tristan put the duffel bag over his shoulder, made sure he had the keys to the room, and he opened the front door and he was instantly chilled. It being November it was cold this early in the morning and there was just a light breeze, which he was grateful for considering how windy it could get. He locked the room, put his room keys in a pocket in the duffel bag and as he turned around he was shocked.

"Oh." Tristan was wanting to say something else but that is all that came out.

"Oh? That's it? You sound guilty Mr. Yourk." The voice was a slightly older sounding that had a slight Russian accent to and was feminine. In the darkness he couldn't quite see who it was, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized who it was.

"Sorry Mrs. Valenkov. I thought you were Dmitri for a moment."

The woman, Mrs. Valenkov took a look at Tristan for a moment and she smiled brightly. "You know. I can't hold him off forever. I may be his wife, but even I can't convince him to hold off on payment indefinitely." Her tone wasn't a cold tone as you may expect; it was a tone of sympathy but it held urgency as well.

Tristan looked down and sighed. "Yes I know. I am sorry. I will be able to pay really soon."

Mrs. Valenkov replied warmly, no venomous intent in her tone; more or less sympathetic, or maybe even pity. "How many times have you said that Tristan? I am not trying to be mean. I believe in you however." She paused for a moment and looked sadly in Tristan's eyes; her brown, worn eyes always seemed to melt Tristan's heart.

Tristan was brought back to reality when she said, "I know you are trying really hard Tristan. You want to be a wrestler. That life is a hard life. I should know. I am the daughter of one. But Dmitri can be." She paused again searching for the right words and Tristan finished her sentence saying, "Stubborn?"

Mrs. Valenkov looked back into Tristan's eyes and laughed heartily, which also warmed Tristan's heart. Mrs. Valenkov was like the mother he never had; at least the caring and loving mother he never had.

"Stefanie. For the past month you have covered for me and I am very grateful for you trying to help me; but I do eventually need to pay I know. I have an interview today at a promotion today. I was reached out by a scout from the Kansas Wrestling Association. If it goes well, I will be able to earn some real money and pay you back."

This surprised the woman because in all the time he had been here, he had never called her by her first name before; in fact, she only told him her name once and he had insisted on calling her 'Mrs. Valenkov.' "You said my first name," she said in a very soft tone.

Tristan realized this also and quickly apologized. "I am so sorry Mrs..." Tristan was interrupted by her quickly shushing him and she looked frantic, her pupils dilated. "It's okay don't worry. I am fine. You need to go though, Dmitri has awoken; if he finds you here talking to me at this hour, he will most definitely demand his money from you now; and he will probably also think that something is going on between us."

This really confused Tristan "But…" Tristan was completely shut down by her and she was motioning him to get out of dodge. "Go Tristan. Everything is fine. You need to go now though!" she whispered with urgency and slight panic in her voice.

He saw a light in the house next to the apartments turn on, and sure enough Dmitri Valenkov was on his way to see where his wife went. Tristan quickly put his duffel bag over his shoulder and started to briskly walk the other direction, which was luckily the direction he needed to go for his interview with the Commissioner of the Kansas Wrestling Association. He looked at the time on his iPod and it read 4:45 AM. Crap! I spent more time talking to Stef...I mean Mrs. Valenkov than I initially thought. Now I got to book it in order to make it to the interview on time. Tristan then started walking a little faster than he normally would, which is also be hard to do with a bulking bag hanging on your shoulder that carried everything from his bathroom supplies, ring gear, and laptop.

Place: Kansas Wrestling Association

Tristan arrived at the KWA building. It was a bit run down looking, then again it was a small local promotion. He took a quick look at the time. 6:55 AM. Huh. I got here quicker than I thought I would. Guess I had some adrenaline going through.

Tristan walked through the double doors of the building and he looked at his surroundings. It smelled of cigars that were very pungent; it took all of his willpower to not bring his shirt up to his face, trying to cover the smell. He needed to make a good impression, and part of that meant presenting as being strong and covering one's face with their shirt could be seen as a sign of weakness and he really needed this work. For his dream and to also pay the Valenkov's. Anyone else probably would have been thrown out and sued for payment already but Dmitri Valenkov's wife took a liking to him and she tried to help him because she told her of his dream and she knew how being a wrestler was a hard life because of her father being one. Tristan was hoping this interview would go without a hitch.

He walked up to the counter where there would be a secretary. The room that he was in looked more like a waiting room for an appointment at a clinic or dentist's and then he realized that this building used to be part of a clinic until it closed down and it was apparently bought by William Burke.

"Yes?" The secretary's voice jolted Tristan back to reality and he stammered. "Yes um. Uh. Yourk, Tristan. Y-O..." The secretary cut him off and said "Alright. Go sit down. I'll let Bill know you are here for your interview." Tristan mentally kicked himself. Great start Sherlock! I hope this interview goes better. He nervously sat down in one of the chairs that were lined up and he tried to calm himself. Come on Tristan. Get ahold of yourself. You can't get stage fright now. WWE is a lot bigger; this is nothing. I can handle it.

Tristan didn't notice Bill Burke walk in at first as he was trying to calm himself down. Burke cleared his throat, which got Tristan's attention. Tristan looked at the man for a second. He was wearing torn faded jeans, worn down light brown boots, a Rolling Stones t-shirt, and a Hawaiian shirt that wasn't buttoned up and it was the ugliest thing Tristan had ever seen. He also had a cigar in his mouth but it wasn't lighted. Well, Tristan thought, that explains the smell.

Tristan was no longer nervous at all, instead he was trying his best not to convey his disgust from the look and smell of the guy that was about to interview him, Tristan got up and said, "Hello Mr. Burke. I am Tristan Yourk and am here for an appointment to wrestle here at the KWA."

Burke responded in a gruff voice. "Yes. I have been expecting you. Come. We have your future to discuss." Burke motioned Tristan to his office which was next to where the secretary's office was. He motioned for Tristan to walk in and he did trying not to give any hint of reluctance or disgust, or any emotion unsavory in an interview and unbecoming of a future employee.

"Sit. I am going to ask you a series of questions. If I feel you answered them satisfactorily, I will then introduce you to the trainers." Tristan was glad Burke was on point and got right down to business and he eased into it and was no longer nervous or anything at all and he answered them all in the best manner possible.

"First question. Where are you from?" Burke was eyeing Tristan for any hint of hesitation at all, but Tristan didn't miss a beat and he responded, "Kansas. My hometown is Axtell, Kansas which is about an hour and a half from here."

"Second question. Where do you live currently?" Again Burke was studying Tristan to see if any questions made him hesitate or gave any indication lying and still Tristan didn't miss a beat and responded in kind. "I don't really live anywhere. I was kicked out a few years back and I have been on my own ever since. Finding work where I could; wrestling in backyards, school gymnasiums; even mowed people's lawns for a time but I couldn't take the mower everywhere and I couldn't afford gas and I needed money and sold it to someone."

The old crusty owner was surprised at Tristan. Most lied on questions like these or hesitated but not Tristan and this was pleasantly surprising and he continued with his questions. "Third question. What is your dream?" And again Tristan didn't miss a beat, "To become a great wrestler. To do what I love. This is what I love. Wrestling isn't just a job or even a career for me. It's a way of life."

This answer surprised Burke even more. Usually dreams like this fade away when kids get older but he could tell that Tristan meant every last word that was said. "Fourth question. How old are you?"

This question tripped Tristan up a bit and tried his best to conceal it. Technically Tristan needed to be older. The youngest age that they can legally hire him would be at age 17 and he was 15; a little less than two years for him to be able to legally compete. Tristan contemplated his answer for a moment and decided to answer truthfully. It would end his dreams early but he felt it better to be honest and not get the job than to lie and get the job, only to possibly be fired later for lying.

"Sir. The youngest age that places could legally hire me is at age 17, however I am not 17. I am 15. I was kicked out of my home when I was 12 because my parents didn't want me to be what I wanted. They wanted me to be something 'productive' but that isn't what made me happy. And so now I owe some money to Dmitri Valenkov who owns a little motel. I have lived there the past month and if it wasn't for his wife he would have thrown me out and sued for payment because I haven't been able to pay. She took a liking to me because of my wanting to become a wrestler and she knew how hard a wrestler's life could be because her own father was one. I know that I won't get the job, but I owe it to myself. To who I am; to be honest no matter what, even if it costs me a job."

Now this surprised Bill Burke beyond belief. He was in shock at how complex this kid was sitting in an interview. He may be younger than he should but he decided to tell the truth of his age; not only that, he opened up about his past. Burke couldn't believe that this kid had been on his own since he was 12. Tristan definitely had discipline and Burke definitely liked that. He was amazed at how honest Tristan was as well. Putting honor and honesty above his want for a job.

"Those are all the questions I will need. Follow me please."

I hope I did okay, Tristan thought to himself. He put more out there than he wanted, but he was glad he decided to be honest with himself and with Burke.

Tristan was surprised when he wasn't led to the door outside, instead Burke was leading him further into the building; he could hear people lifting weights and they were all working hard, that he could tell by the all too familiar smell of sweat. He was lead to a training room. Burke ushered him in.

"I know you think that you aren't going to get the job from your age, but that isn't going to happen. You got the job kid. Your answers were nothing like I have ever seen and from the sounds of it, you got a superb work ethic and a will that is never dying. That is exactly is what is needed to thrive in a business like this. You have tremendous heart and I applaud you for that. Now. I want you to meet the head trainer of the KWA, Cory Mann."

"Are you ready to work hard?" Cory Mann asked Tristan as the too shook hands. Tristan was awestruck. He couldn't believe his ears. This was the first step to his dream. He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste, not for one second and he took a bit of time to drink it all in and he thought to himself, my hard work is starting to pay off somewhat. I can't get complacent though; I need to continue to work hard. This is the first step and I won't stop. I won't give up and I will do everything I can to achieve my dream. "Yes," he said responding to Cory Mann's question. "I am ready."

Bill Burke waved at Tristan and started walking out the door back to his office and he stopped at the door to the trainer's room. "Good luck kid. Don't be expecting to get special treatment due to you being a minor." Tristan responded with excitement in his voice. "I wouldn't dream of it sir. I am ready to work my ass off." Burke smirked as he walked back to his office and took a definite interest in Tristan. This kid has the will of a thousand burning suns and he won't be quelled. Burke laughed a bit and thought to himself. Wrestling world get ready. This kid will definitely be a legend of this business someday.

Tristan turned to the head trainer, Cory Mann and smiled. "Why are you smiling at me like that kid?" Cory Mann could see why Bill liked this kid. He barely met him and already begun to think, this kid is going to be the next big thing.

Tristan responded casually but with a fierce determination. "So. When do we start?"

Yep, Cory thought, this kid is most definitely the next big thing.