A/N: Thank you to TheProblemIs-It'sNotMusic for being my very first review that WASN'T my writing partner. Much appreciated. Hopefully the rest of the story will live up to your words of encouragement. I think I'll wait until the next chapter for her to fall in love. (joke, of course) So, without much further ado...

Chapter Two – Meeting of the minds

The match, for being nothing more than a last minute card filler, went over quite well. Better than I had excepted, if I can toot my own horn. We hit our marks, had a great time, and I got showed the crowd of roughly 2500 just how well I take a chair shot from Mrs. 'Taker herself, Michelle McCool. The response from the crowd was like a drug, I didn't want my high to ever wear off. But all good things come to an end, leaving me with my first loss and a sore back. All things considered, it was a good day. Backstage, however, it was short lived.

"You over-sold that chair shot."

"Good to know, mother."

"You need to develop an actual finisher, something that makes you stand out from the other girls. They really don't have any highfliers in the Women's division, we could corner that market."

"Whatever you want, mother."

"Then again, your moonsaults have always been a bit…off…"

Thanks mom, for never allowing me to get a big head. It was all for not, nothing she could possibly say would make a difference in my mood. My body was still high on adrenaline and I felt like I would be tweaking for days. Without saying a word to acknowledge her presence, I walked past her and made my way towards the women's locker room. Not to be ignored, she followed behind me, her breathe almost echoing in my ear. Nonetheless my smile never faded; if anything, it got larger and larger every time I heard her huff. Nothing short of finding a dead puppy could bring me back down to earth. Of course, we all know how shitty my luck is, so something had to bring it crashing down.

"Hurry up and grab a shower now, Holly Marie. We head out on the next plane to Connecticut."

"Say what now?"

"Stamford is in Connecticut, sweetheart. I thought you did well in geography class?"

Wow, I guess my curt answers to her comments got her panties in a bunch. "I was good in school, mother. Not that you would've known while you were out training Nitro Girls-"

I nearly caught a glimpse of regret in her eyes, but that was quickly replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated anger. She turned her back to me and started for the door. "If you want to be a bitch about the past, then do it on your own time. Hickenbottom came through for me and you've got an interview with Vince McMahon himself tomorrow at 8 am sharp. That means we need to get the hell out of dodge if you want to make it there on time."

A meeting…with the man himself? I never once even thought that was a possibility. For once, my mother's timing had been impeccable, because the news sent me back into the bathing and retching. Vince McMahon wanted to meet up with the likes of me? Sure, I knew I'd have to meet someone from the company, sign my John Hancock on the dotted line and all that, but I didn't think it would be with the man who single-handed made professional wrestling what it is today. Sure, it wasn't like I hadn't met him before, I used to go out on the road a bit with my mother before she was released, but I was a pigtailed, jean jumper-wearing four year old then and not trying please my mother by becoming a wrestling phenom.

"Is this going to be your 'thing'?" She asked, her voice flat. "Should I be concerned?"

"Nerves, mother. I have terrible nerves."

"Clean yourself off and for god's sake, chew some gum or something. Your breath must be terrible." The clicking of her heels grew fainter as she made her way towards the exit. "We've got half an hour before we hit the road- I want you out of there in ten."

Ladies and gentlemen, my mother. Depending on who you ask, Debra Ann Miceli was either the greatest thing to hit Women's Wrestling since the Evening Gown Pool Match, or the women who single-handedly set the Women's Championship back seven years. It didn't matter to people that other men had pulled the same shit that she had and walked away unscathed, but because Alundra Blayze had done it, it was the end of all life on earth. Or something to that effect. Myself? I'm still trying to figure that one out. It is said that when women become mothers, the motherly instinct kicks right in. Debra Miceli does not have a motherly bone in her body. Not completely her fault, her upbringing alone didn't exactly bring out the "mom gene" in her. So her wrestling career took precedence over raising her own daughter, which left me in the care of my father and grandmother. So, while she was busy at The Power Plant, training Molly Holly and Nitro Girls, I was abandoned in Philadelphia with my father, Demetrius and his over-bearing, but well-meaning mother, Tula. I guess, with the exception of my mother, I had a normal life. As normal as I could have, once the other kids figured out where they knew my mother from. Now that I'm twenty years old and the rest of my family's dead and gone, I have somewhat of an actual relationship with my mother. Or…the best relationship I could ever hope to have with a woman like her.

By eight a.m. we pulled up outside of the famous WWE building in Stamford, CT., leaving my body in shambles. Mother, of course, looked every bit the stage mother that she is, decked out in a faux-fur coat, the biggest sunglasses this side of a joke shop, and giant diamond earrings. As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, I had limited time to get myself looking half-way presentable, so I walked into the meeting of a life time wearing my old school Edge and Christian t-shirt and denim skirt. Classy! Within moments, we were whisked to the office on the top floor, and standing outside of the one man that could make or break me. My stomach rumbled and a wave of nausea kicked in, leaving me a retching mess.

"Of all the times for you to pull this!" Once again, ladies and gentlemen, my mother. "Get your act together or you are going to blow this for us!"

Mary, Vince's sectary, glanced at me with a nod of regret and chimed in with, "Mr. McMahon has to make a quick business call and will see you as soon as possible. If you want to take a seat-"

"That is just SO like Vince…he tells us to meet him at 8 and he can't be bothered to see us on time!" Do I need to repeat myself? "Tell him that Debra Miceli doesn't wait for-"

Just then, the door to his office opened, stifling my mother and making my stomach jump up into my throat, turning my face into a very fashionable green.

"I would like to see Holly Marie Miceli alone, if you wouldn't mind?"

I wish I had a camera to take a picture of the priceless look on my mother's face as she slowly nodded her response to The Man himself. In return, I glanced at my mother nervously before following him through the double doors that lead to my future. I wish I could say I gag reflex hadn't gone haywire at that exact moment. I wish I could.