Chapter Six
Amberlea Brennan
The months flew by quickly. Before I knew it, Randy and John were on SmackDown while I was busy trying to prove myself as a Diva that could hang with the best of them on Raw. Randy's been mulling moving back home to St. Louis, and has been trying to talk me into doing the same, just so I could tell my dad that I'm close to somebody. I've been trying to get my dad to sell the business and come up this way to be with me, but he's pretty hesitant. One of these days, I'm sure he will. I don't really have any desire to go back to Texas. I've made a lot of friends here; it would kill me to be scattered to the four winds with them; Randy and John especially. I know eventually I want to start becoming a homeowner.
For my birthday this year, which was back in July, Randy, John and Trish took me out for dinner and surprised me with a visit from my father, who rode all the way up here on his Harley. It was so wonderful to see him again. I miss him dearly. A huge part of me wants to talk to Vince about flying him out for WrestleMania next year, but I'm not sure how to broach the subject. I guess when the time comes I'll ask Trish.
Randy debuted towards the end of April as a face. He's been in a lot of matches with Hardcore Holly this summer, which has been good and bad. While it's been good Randy has been working with a veteran, he said that Bob Holly has been incredibly stiff with him in the ring, even going so far as to sandbag some of his moves at house shows. Randy doesn't feel comfortable saying anything about it, I can tell, though he'd never admit it. Not to me, anyway. John's been telling me that he's been kind of frustrated over it. Despite all that, he's been doing great in the ring. We call each other after our respective shows and critique each other's matches. He hasn't quite found his niche yet; mind you, neither have John or I - but we've done a solid job letting our in-ring action do the talking for us right now. Everything else would come naturally, gradually.
John finally got his call up to the roster in June, where he had a crazy match with Kurt Angle on SmackDown that saw him almost go over. We all knew he was going to lose, but Kurt made John look like a total Superstar and established him as a threat. It was impressive.
Tonight, now that Raw is over, I'm sitting in my hotel room with Trish and Nora, watching scary movies with hordes of ice cream in front of us, talking about our influences in women's wrestling. I couldn't be more indebted to these two Divas for guiding me along as much as they have. But they both get it. They both understand things that sometimes even the greats can't figure out.
"You're coming along great, Lea," Nora said to me, taking a bite of some Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream. "We got to get you an interesting new finisher though. Something that sets you apart. A DDT is just so generic."
"I know. I've been coming up with a few things, but nothing that's really sticking with me at the moment," I replied. I dug into the suitcase open at the foot of the bed and pulled out my notebook, full of different moves, promo ideas and other pro wrestling related things. Trish and Nora exchanged surprised glances and took a look at some of the finishers.
"I like this one. Trish, can I try it out on you so Amberlea can see what it looks like?" she inquired. She handed the notebook to Trish who nodded. They both stood up in the middle of the hotel room, throwing pillows on the floor for padding. This whole thing just seemed so unbelievably surreal to me.
Nora grabbed Trish as though she were putting her into a suplex. When she had Trish up and over, she let go, bringing Trish down as though she were giving her a Diamond Cutter. When Trish and Nora landed, there was a loud thud and I swore the entire room shook. I wondered for a second if Trish was hurt, but if she was, she didn't show it, laughing herself silly in the fetal position on the pillows.
"That looked pretty awesome," I admitted.
"I think that should be your finisher. Have you ever shown any of these to the guys?"
I shook my head. "Nah. They'd think I'm crazy."
"Great. Now you can blow them both away." I laughed.
"That Randy Orton is so dreamy," Nora replied, sitting down on the bed. "How did you meet him?"
"OV. I met John doing the indy scene in California."
"That's pretty awesome," Trish replied. "I'm sure it made your dad feel better knowing you had people looking out for you."
"Well, he was a bit leery of John at first. But he's come around." Trish threw the pillows back on the beds and we settled down again, this time going over what I was going to name the damn move.
Randy Orton
I hate working with Bob Holly.
Everything the guy does hurts, and I'm pretty sure that he's been making sure it hurts that much more because I'm a rookie. He seems cold and calculated like that.
The first time I met him, when he was informed who my father was, who my grandfather was, he looked at me with a sneer on his features. "So?" he asked. "That was them. You don't mean shit until you can hang in the ring with me." That had been the first words out of his mouth when I met him. The way I figure it, the guy's probably still pissed off about the mullet-sporting NASCAR gimmick WWF had levelled on him when he first arrived. I shrug it off as the generation gap between old-school and new-school, but it doesn't mean any of his moves hurt any less.
John and I had to leave for Peoria, Illinois in less than twelve hours, and I can't sleep. Amberlea lent me her latest Sevendust album before she left for Raw, so I have that on the go while I try and get myself settled down enough to sleep. I have a burning suspicion that John feels the same. Even after a few months, I still have the craziest case of nerves. I suppose that's normal. It's when the nerves disappear when something is wrong.
Vince seems to be happy with my work, stopping every now and then to ask me how my family is doing and commenting on my in-ring work. I guess it's a perk of being a third generation guy; I don't see him making a lot of time for other people. Maybe he just sees something in me; I don't know.
My mind's on Amberlea, already out in Illinois, trying to wind down from living her dream. She's been thinking of moving out of Kentucky, but she doesn't want to move back to Texas, just because there was so many negative people there for her. She hasn't told me any of this; but John's been more than happy to pass along the information. I think it kind of bugs him that when Amberlea and I talk, it stays between the two of us. It's more respectful to her that way.
It's been a strange ride since I made it up to the WWE roster. I think Dawn Marie has a crush on me, which is a bit creepy. There's something about her I can't put my finger on. Not that it matters; I'm hearing rumblings about being transferred to Raw. It might not be true, but I've heard that they are impressed enough with my work to put me on the A-show. That would be the best thing that could happen. To be a guy on Raw, with opportunities to battle guys like Triple H and Ric Flair. Battling Ric Flair would be a dream come true; I remember as a kid I used to dress up as him and emulate him as best I could. Of course, he is often imitated, but never duplicated. I think my parents kind of got a kick out of it, because they never gave me hell for it.
If I got drafted to Raw, I'd need to really pick it up. Work harder than I'm working now. Prove that I'm good enough to hold a title, to work with the best guys in the business. I could feel pressure starting to crush down on me, but I refused to allow it. Not this time.
John Cena
Kurt Angle made me look amazing in my first match, and for that, I'm forever in debt to him. He's a pretty cool guy; deceptively fast for his size. Guy won a gold medal back in 1996 for amateur wrestling, so there's no doubt that they threw me in with the best right away.
It's been an insane ride the last few months, watching my friends and I on the two separate brands, trying to make names for ourselves in the industry we've loved since we were children. My family was just over the moon when they caught my first match on the tube. It's not bad for a small town kid.
Randy's been moodier than usual lately, but I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that he hates working with Hardcore Holly. Can't say I blame him, since I've heard a lot of the rookies complaining about the liberties he takes with everyone but the veterans who wouldn't stand for it for two seconds.
Amberlea's been a lot busier lately, thinking of moving, since Lisa Marie is talking about moving in with her boyfriend. I have no idea where she's planning on moving, but I hope it's not too far. I'd hate to not be able to see her all the time. She's been pretty much my anchor, someone I could look at as family while I'm away from mine.
I should be asleep; not sitting on the couch watching some network-edited version of Caddyshack. After all, Randy and I have to be on a plane to Peoria tomorrow morning, in time for Amberlea to arrive home. It's kind of funny how life can tear the best of friends apart. A huge part of me hopes that between the three of us, nobody has to leave the equation because of our work schedules. But I digress.
Better judgment tells me I should at least lie down and hope to get some sleep. But I don't really care tonight. I wonder if Amberlea is sleeping; I don't think Randy's sleeping. Since the two of us got called up to the main roster I'd be surprised if we average two to three hours of sleep per night now. It seems like since we got called up, the stress level has increased on all of us. Not that I'm complaining too much, though it's getting harder to remember what a good night's sleep feels like. We all love the opportunities we've been getting in the WWE. I know they've already got me signed up for a trip to Europe. I didn't see Randy's name on there, but I think they have different plans for him. What they are, neither of us know. But something tells me we're going to be hustling pretty hard the instant we find out.