Changes ::
Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction based on the Undertaker. It is completed- however I'll only be posting a couple of chapters at a time to see what kind of feedback I can get. Please feel free to send me your reviews and feedback! They're greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy =]
Chapter One
"Brooke Fox. That seems to be quite an appropriate name for someone as beautiful as yourself. What nationality are you, exactly?" The stranger said as he flipped through her book of pictures. Brooke studied his facial expressions as he looked at each photograph. "Well I'm actually half Columbian and Brazilian. With a little bit of Polish, sir." He looked up and studied her features in person. "Sounds rather exotic, aside from the minor Polish inconvenience" the man stated with a smug look. Brooke sighed and avoided eye contact as he continued to flip through the pictures. She jumped as he slammed the book close and slid it back to her from across the desk. "Look," he said seriously. 'Well here it comes again' Brooke thought to herself.
"You have potential. You're tall, tan, and you have an exotic beauty that is hard to find these days. But looking at you- you lack confidence. Your strut on the catwalk is so bland and boring. Agents won't book you if you're as stiff as a board Brooke." Brooke's eyes shimmered, close to tears, as she looked down at her book sitting closed once again on her lap. The man sighed. "This is what I'm talking about, honey. Now usually I don't sit here and console aspiring models. I ain't no doctor Phil. But might I suggest you even considering some therapy? Just to help boost your confidence? You need confidence in this business, or they are going to tear you apart out there." Brooke looked up and smiled. "Thank you sir." She grabbed her purse and stood up quickly, as she practically sprinted out the doorway.
'Another one bites the dust.' She thought to herself as she made her way through the crowded parking lot. Sure, she's never been overly confident in herself. Then again, who really is one hundred percent? She never realized just how difficult the modeling industry would be. People had always told her she'd be perfect for it. She had always been on the taller side. In fact in high school her friends would tease her about being a so called "Neanderthal". She had natural dark skin, most likely due to her heritage. As a matter of fact, most of her attributes were dark. She had long jet black hair, and dark brown eyes to match. She never colored her hair, aside from the failed attempt in high school to lighten it to a chocolate brown. She had bought a box of hair dye and it did virtually nothing to her dark locks.
Brooke no longer had any family. Aside from her older brother, Kevin, who was enough of an over-bearing parent for her to handle as it was. She never knew her father. After she was born the financial strain of not one, but two children took too much of a tole on him. He left his pregnant girlfriend and never looked back, leaving Brooke's mother to fend for herself with an eight year old and a new born. Brooke shakes her head in disgust at the thought. Because of it, Kevin was forced to grow up- and fast. He was always more of a parent to her then her mother had ever been. In some senses she can't blame her mother for the stress she endured. It was a life of torment, and for lack of better words, it was absolute hell. Eventually the stress had eaten her mother to the core. She put a revolver to her head and pulled the trigger when Brooke was thirteen.
Brooke had tried to be normal her whole life. She suppressed all her hidden fears and memories of that day. She had even straight up tried to forget her mother even existed. She resented her in a way, leaving her two children behind like a coward. Clearly this woman was thinking about no one but herself when she picked up that gun. As Brooke grew older she found that she was more frightened of life then she was of death. But hell, why complain? Over all she had a fantastic life. Wonderful friends who helped her through it all, and Kevin to console in.
She got to her car and sped off towards the highway as she dialed Stephanie's number. Stephanie has been a good friend of hers for years. She also so happened to be the daughter of the infamous Vince McMahon, the chairman of World Wrestling Entertainment. Brooke knew the family fairly well, even though they were constantly on the road traveling. Stephanie had recently joined them on tour. She always had an interest in the family business and decided that now was the time to get involved. After all, she had nothing tying her down. No children, and no man. The WWE had an event in her home town of Houston that day, so Brooke was looking forward to reuniting with her friend for the first time in weeks.
"How did it go?" Brooke hears on the other end of her cell phone. "Is that what our conversations have come to? Not even a hello? How was your day? We're just getting straight to the point here, huh?" Brooke asks with a chuckle in her voice. Stephanie sighs through the phone, "Is there a particular reason you're avoiding the subject?" she asks. Brooke nods in agreement, knowing Stephanie can't see her disappointed facial expression. "Isn't there always?" Stephanie chuckles again, "You made your point. Come to the arena. Bring your backstage pass because security is now at full force since the wrestlers have started arriving. We'll go grab some lunch if you're interested?"
"Fantastic. My stomach has been conversing with me for hours. I didn't eat or drink at all this morning because I had that appointment- but fuck it. Now I'm ready for a burger. See you in five." Brooke said as she flipped her phone shut. She dodged traffic and made it to the arena shortly after her conversation with Stephanie. She knew the drill with the backstage passes. She's been to a couple of wrestling shows, even met a few athletes here and there, but every time the energy in the building was electric. These men and women truly loved what they did. They woke up sore every morning, and probably will for the rest of their lives. Yet still, day in and day out, they are lacing up their boots to entertain the fans. Brooke admired that every time she stepped into the arena. She hoped one day, she could find something that she felt as passionate about.