Chapter Three

Amberlea Brennan

Every Saturday night, we all gathered at our local TGI Friday's, a favorite place of mine when I was a kid, to eat, talk and forget about the fast-paced lifestyle that we lead in the name of our passions. Lisa Marie and I arrived first, sitting down at a corner table. John had phoned Lisa Marie and told her to get a huge table, since Randy's family were going to make it in. A part of me was surprised; after the slight protest Randy put up about having to invite them, I'm surprised that he did.

Lisa Marie ordered a Shirley Temple, which gave me flashbacks of my childhood. I ordered a virgin margarita, thanks in large part that I'm barely twenty. Another two years before I could let Ric Flair destroy my liver.

John and his father arrived next. I could see the resemblance between the two of them. John was dressed in an enormous Mitchell and Ness jersey and some jeans, while his dad was dressed nicely in a pair of slacks and an olive button down shirt. It was almost night and day between the two of them. In a show of respect, I stood as they approached the table, nudging Lisa Marie to do the same.

"This must be the lovely Amberlea that John speaks so highly of," he said to me, shaking my hand. "And such a lovely, unique name."

"Thank you," I answered, looking at John, attempting to keep the blush off of my face. John sure had a lot in common with his father; they both knew how to charm the pants off of a woman.

John slid into the chair beside me to the left, while John's father sat down beside Lisa Marie and struck up some small conversation. The waitress arrived, flirting with John, and got double teamed by flirtation from the Cena boys. John ordered an iced tea, while John's father wanted some coffee. As the waitress weaved through, I saw Randy with his entire family standing behind him. Raising my hand and ushering him over, he approached with his family, everybody shaking hands and greeting each other appropriately. I never realized how much Randy looked like his father until I was staring into Cowboy Bob's weathered face. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he informed me. "Randy's told me a lot about you."

"Likewise. Please, everyone, have a seat." Randy settled in to my right with his sister right beside him, and then his mother. Everybody else filed to the other side. Bob began talking to John's father, with Lisa Marie listening intently, taking in everything that Bob was saying. The waitress arrived again, surprised to find five more people at the table. Everybody ordered their drinks and she promised to be back in a few minutes so we could all order.

"I think this is the biggest crowd we've ever had out to dinner," Randy mused, an amused smirk on his handsome features. Lisa Marie and John nodded in agreement.

"Is it usually just the four of you?" Elaine Orton inquired. I nodded.

"Yeah. We usually do it Fridays, too, but with Randy coming out to see you guys, I didn't want to exclude him, so we moved it to tonight. Then Mr. Cena came in, so I told John to bring him along and asked Randy to extend the invite to you guys, too. The more the merrier, right?" Everybody nodded. The waitress returned, her eyes sparkling at the image of Randy and John sitting on either side of me, going out of her way to flirt with the two of them while we were ordering dinner. It was ridiculous. Even Randy's mother was appalled at how forward this waitress was acting. I almost felt like we had missed a turn somewhere and wound up at Hooters or something. When she was gone, Lisa Marie and I broke into fits of giggles at the ridiculousness of the waitress. John understood; a wide grin crossed his face telling me he understood all too well.

"Now that we all have our drinks, I want everybody to raise your glasses to Amberlea, who totally got the call to be in Vegas for Raw on Monday." The table went up in cheers as the blush spread across my face. Randy stared at me, stunned; John obviously hasn't told him.

"Really?" A huge grin spread across his face. "Lea, that's wonderful!" He hugged me as best he could from his chair, so it was more like an awkward half-hug. I appreciated it all the same since Randy is typically so cold. Everybody applauded.

"Thanks, guys," I laughed. "I'm still in shock myself. I have to leave tomorrow and get checked into the hotel and everything. It still feels like a dream."

"Do you know what match you're having?"

"Yeah. A tag team match. I'll be teaming with Trish Stratus. I don't know who my partners are yet."

"You'll do fine," Randy assured me. "Just remember what John and I have been teaching you and it will all be good."

"I know. Thank you guys so much for everything that you've taught me in the last few months. If it wasn't for any of you guys, I wouldn't be as good as I am. That goes for you, too, Lisa Marie. And Synn. And Jim Cornette, Danny Davis…it really does take a village to make a decent wrestler." Bob Orton laughed at me.

"It takes a village to make a great wrestler, and that's what you are," Randy informed me. I laughed.

"Stop, Randy - you're making me blush!"

"So, where are you from?" Elaine Orton asked me.

"Austin, Texas."

"You're a fair ways from home."

"I sure am. I talk to my dad at least once a week. He showed up a couple weeks ago and dropped off my birthday present and stayed for a few days. It was really great to see him."

"I still can't believe your dad bought you a motorcycle."

"A motorcycle?" Bob Orton cocked an eyebrow. I nodded.

"My dad's kind of a biker. It's not as big a deal to him as it is to other people. I've had my license for a couple months now. One of these days when I have the time, I would love to ride down there and surprise him."

"I'm sure he would find that sweet," Bob conceded, "but you make damn sure you get some extra experience on that bike before you take any long trips."

"Don't you worry, Mr. Orton; I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing if I wasn't sure I could do it." He seemed satisfied with my exhibition of common sense and started making small talk with his wife. That's when our dinner arrived.

John Cena

"John, I'm in a bit of a pickle tomorrow, but can I get you to give me a ride to the airport tomorrow morning? I'd ask Lisa Marie, but she's gone to her boyfriend's for the night."

"What time do you leave?" I asked. "It's not a problem, just give me the details." Amberlea, Randy, Dad and I were at her apartment, hanging out together before she had to leave. Randy was sprawled out across her loveseat, watching some movie that I wasn't paying attention to.

"I have to be at the airport for six. I hate to have you up and about so early, but…"

"Don't worry about it," I told her, dismissing her worries with a wave of my hand. "I know you would do the same for me if it ever came down to that. I'll be awake, but if you want to give me a call just to make sure…since I'm sure you won't be getting any sleep anyways, then it'll all be good."

"Thank you so much, John," she replied, a relieved smile crossing her features. "I really appreciate it. Next dinner is on me."

"Not complaining there."

"I mean it, John. Thank you so much for doing this."

I could tell her nerves were rattled. Now she was heading into the big leagues, and she was having doubts that she couldn't handle it. I knew she could. She would be surprised at how the adrenaline flows when she's out under the big lights in the big city, taking on the best of the best. Tonight, I didn't think I could feel as proud of anyone as I felt about Amberlea and her being called up to the main roster. Even if he wasn't saying much more than he said at dinner, I knew Randy was bursting with pride as well, considering he had a large hand in training Amberlea to be a decent wrestler, to never waste a movement in the ring and to treat every manoeuvre as an extension of herself. She had nothing to worry about.

"Can I make a tea or something for everyone?" I inquired. I shook my head.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Lea. We should get going. I got to be up early to get you to the airport on time."

"Thanks again, John. I appreciate it."

"I know you do," I replied. I gave her a hug. "I will see you bright and early tomorrow." Randy slung his legs over the leg of the chair and back onto the floor, standing to his feet. He gathered Amberlea up in his arms and gave her a hug.

"Congratulations, Lea. You deserve it. Have a safe flight."

"Thank you, Randy. I'll see you when I get back." He offered her a weak smile, quickly replaced by the trademark stoic expression on his face. When we finally left her apartment after all of our goodbyes, I'm sure she sank down to her couch and had a nervous breakdown.

Randy Orton

Tonight is a Metallica night.

Tomorrow Amberlea would be leaving for the main roster, maybe working both OVW and WWF before being called up to the main roster for good. Then she would probably move back home to Texas, or back to California, or somewhere far away. I will never admit this in public, but I've come to kind of rely on our weekly dinners as a routine. John, me, Amberlea, Lisa. It's nice to have friends who look out for one another, when you hear so much about the business chewing people up and turning them on one another. I could never see John or Amberlea doing that; they too sweet. But my dad has warned me about a lot of the things he said could possibly go down. It's the beauty of being a third-generation; I have two generations before me telling me what to expect; the good, the bad and the ugly.

A huge part of me hopes that this business doesn't chew up Amberlea and spit her out. She's still young; shit, she's a year younger than I am pretty much. Her birthday is next week. And she's away from home, with no family, young and vulnerable. Sure, John and I look out for her as much as we can, but when she's on the main roster and we're stuck in the independents, it's anybody's game. I just hope she's smart enough to see through bullshit. I think she is, but there's always that little nagging voice in my head that tells me maybe she isn't. After all, she is still, in essence, a child. I still am. John not so much.

I clicked the button on my stereo, putting The Black Album on repeat, laid back in bed with my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling, reflecting on the paths that our lives were taking. Brock Lesnar got called up last week; a few people the week before that. It was only a matter of time for John, Lisa and I. We all had the skills to get it done in the ring; we all have the charisma to make things work. It's not arrogance, but I know when I get into the WWF that I will be great. Hall of Fame material, even. I think John could be the next Rock if he wanted to be. Sure, we had things down pat here, but once we get called up, we have to be on point every week. My father, Arn Anderson, they all taught me never to waste a move in the ring; to calculate everything, telegraph everything.

John had already gone to bed. I felt a bit slighted that Amberlea didn't ask me to take her to the airport, but at the same time, I actually have a rare morning tomorrow that I can sleep in before getting up and going out to the gym. So, better him than me.

Turning off the light, I decided to just lay in my room with Metallica and the darkness, wondering how Amberlea is going to do in her first match. From what I've heard, Trish Stratus is something of a ring general, so there will be little room for error for Amberlea. She will probably keep it simple. I was more worried about Amberlea backstage with some of the idiots. My only hope is somebody will step in and protect her.