Advent Calendar 19th December.
It's now or Never.
By Lucy Knott.
My heart
is rattling against my chest. Salty sweat is dripping down my nose, leaving a
small puddle at my feet. I crouch down in the corner of the ring, with my hands
on my knees. I steady my heavy breathing for, maybe, ten seconds before my
sister grabs me in a headlock.
“Come on slow coach, there’s no time for rest,” she says,
with a playful tone in her voice as she drags me to the center of the ring.
“This is our last training session before the big day, you gotta keep up,” she
adds, whilst cranking on my head, making the beads of sweat on my forehead fly
off in every direction.
“Oh, I’m aware of that Kenzie, just give me a second, that
last bump knocked the wind out of me,” I reply, “Then we’ll see who has to keep
up with who.” With a little more energy now coursing through my veins, I twist
out of the headlock, apply one of my own on my twin sister and take her down to
the mat. Another hour later and we each peel off our soaking wet knee pads,
unlace our boots and lay on the sweat stained mats to allow our heart rates to
return to normal.
The door to the gym creaks open and the murmurs of the next
class fill the air. Young boys, teenagers and even the odd thirty-year-old
traipse in, all chatting about what they want to practice today. I smile at
their trainer, Cole. With his 5ft 8in muscly frame, he looks like a wrestler,
but his curly mid-length brown hair and chiseled features make him look like a
movie star, in our world you would say he has ‘it’. He is incredibly talented
to boot and has travelled the world wrestling; England, America, Japan, Italy,
but he’s still waiting for his big break.
“It smells delightful in here,” Cole says, sarcasm in his
tone as he sends a smile my way. “Is that a new perfume, BO with a hint of
rose?” I throw my water bottle at him and he catches it with little effort.
“That’s the smell of champions,” Mackenzie replies without
missing a beat, as she gets up to pack her things, she gives Cole a gentle
shove as she walks past him. The class moves towards the mats and begin
stretching. I stand up and wince as my lower back spasms, just a perk of the
job. Cole closes in on me and places his hand where my body is betraying me,
“Does someone need a candle lit bath and a massage?” he says,
with a twinkle in his eye and low enough so that only I can hear.
“I’ll hold you to that,” I say, smiling up at him. Looking
into his flirty but kind eyes releases a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. He
has this effect on me every time.
“How about tonight then? I promise I won’t let class run
long and I’ll give you my full attention, no shop talk, ok?” Cole’s silvery
voice is sincere, I know he means it and I can’t blame him for always having
wrestling on his mind, I can’t exactly fault him for having a passion,
especially one I understand and share.
“Sounds good,” I reply, giving him a quick peck on the
cheek, not wanting to draw the class’ attention.
“See you tonight, my love,” Cole says, giving me a kiss on
my forehead, not at all bothered at the idea of the others seeing us. Yes, this
tough as nails, dynamite pro wrestler also has a heart of gold and happens to
be my boyfriend but I don’t like showing affection around other wrestlers. Back
in the day girls would get called names and be given a bad rap for dating one
of the boys. People would think they were getting into the business for all the
wrong reasons, but Kenzie and I aren’t about that. We have worked hard to prove
ourselves, we love this business as much as, if not more than, any guy out
there and I am grateful Cole knows this. Some of Kenzie and I’s most
challenging sessions were ones he put us through, he helped us step up our game
and treated us like one of the boys. Mine and his relationship sort of
blossomed. Ten years of blood, sweat and tears in this business and I shouldn’t
care what others think, but old habits and all. We shout our byes to the class
and head for home.
My body feels drained, but it’s a feeling I’m used to by
now. My sister and I have spent almost every week night over the past ten years
pushing each other’s limits in that tiny dingy room that is home to our
favourite thing in the world; a wrestling ring. Weekends would consist of
shows; travelling up and down the country performing in front of crowds varying
from twenty people to hundreds of people. From the moment, we saw wrestling on
TV at eight years old, we knew that’s what we wanted to be. The larger than
life characters caught our eyes but it was watching the tag teams, working together,
tagging in and out, their crisp movements, their matching outfits, their sharp,
smooth double teams and they’re in this together attitude that kept us tuning
in every week, wanting more. After all, since day one we have been in it
together. You could probably take every twin stereotype and apply it to
Mackenzie and me. We are attached at the hip and rarely go anywhere without
each other. It works for us.
“How are you feeling Mads?” Kenzie asks, as we walk in to
the kitchen. I immediately switch the kettle on as she reaches for the biscuit
tin.
“I think I’ll feel better after a hob nob or two,” I reply,
knowing there will definitely be a third hob nob consumed. Kenzie laughs.
“I feel good about it this time, you know Mads. I really
think this is it, this is our time to shine,” she says, settling herself at the
kitchen table and playing with the hob nob in her hand, “We’re finally going to
get our shot at the big leagues,” she looks at me, her eyes wide, searching for
a confident conformation.
“And, if not we’ll always have tea and biscuits,” I reply,
with wink.
“Ok, so when
we go in, just be confident. We gotta hold our heads high, smile at everyone
and kick some ass, ok?” Mackenzie says, her voice a touch wobbly. I must admit;
my palms are sweating and my mouth feels dry. We have just pulled up to the
Manchester arena. Today is the day. Our big tryout is mere hours away, there is
no turning back. The sun shines high in the clear blue sky, casting a bright glow
over the grand building. As kids, this building represented a place of worship
for Kenzie and me. We would bow down to the wrestlers as they made their way to
the ring, we would watch their every movement with intent and when we got lost
in the action and the drama, we would holler and scream for these superheroes.
Goosebumps would prickle our skin; our mouths would be wide open and the world
around us would become a complete blur. Nothing else mattered. Today however,
the building has a certain intimidating factor about it.
“It’s ok Kenzie, breathe. I’ve got your back, we got this,
you know that. This is going to be a blast. We’re going to go in there and show
them what we’re made of ok?” I say, focusing hard on believing in the words I
am saying too. “Today, we’re channeling The British Bulldogs and The Rockers,”
at the mention of our role models, a small smile appears on Kenzie’s face. I
continue, “We’re going to bring Tag Team wrestling back with a vengeance and
show them what they’re missing, you got that Marty?”
In my referencing one half of our favourite tag team, the
lesser known half of said favourite tag team, she lets out a roar of laughter,
“Hey, why am I always Marty?”
“Because there’s only one Showstopper,” I reply, giving her
a playful shove while opening the car door.
“There’s two showstoppers’ in this family Sis and you’d do
well to remember that, unless you want me to prove it to you again and make you
tap,” I hear Mackenzie mutter under her breath as I step out of the car. Hands
trembling slightly, I pull our bags out from the boot of the car, two medium
black roller bags; you were officially a wrestler when you owned a wheelie bag.
After checking her makeup and reapplying her lipstick, Kenzie meets me at the
back of the car and gives me one last nod, which I return, signaling we are
ready to make our dreams a reality. Before we reach the arena doors my phone
chimes with two new messages, one from our Mum and Dad;
“We are so proud of you girls, thinking of you, go and do
your best. We love you.”
And one from Cole;
“You guys have worked so hard for this opportunity, believe
in yourselves and hold your heads high. I’m so proud of you both, yes even you
Kenzie…” which is followed by a wink face, they are always teasing each other,
“…Love you Madison, go and kick ass.”
I can taste my lipstick in my mouth, my makeup
is smeared and there is no doubt in my mind that my hair resembles a lion’s
mane. When you get to the top they certainly test you and try to weed out the
weak; those not cut out for the big leagues. The drills have been intense, bump
after bump, hit after hit and barely any time to recover. My legs feel tight as
I squeeze my foot back into my four-inch heel. The rest of the night is set to challenge
me more. Standing at the monitors, face focused, to show that I respect the men
and women above me and that I am ready to learn, by watching their performances
for the next three hours. Did I mention all while standing straight in
four-inch heels? As a sign of respect, there will be no sitting down. My feet
cry but my face remains bright, a smile permanently on display. One look at
Kenzie and I know she feels the same.
An hour into the show and I start getting a queasy feeling
in the pit of my stomach. A little voice inside my head is telling me that I
should be in my wrestling gear right now. Why
did you change? It hisses. Trying not to draw attention to myself I nudge
Kenzie, without a word she follows my lead. Grabbing our bags, I whisper as we
enter the toilets, “Get ready as fast as you can, OK?” Kenzie nods and instead
of seeing fear in her eyes, I see a twinkle, and instead of questioning her
crazy sister, she does as I say with an even crazier grin on her face. Einstein
would have been proud. Throwing our jackets over our wrestling outfits we make
our way back to the monitors as casually as possible, and are met with a
commotion.
Suddenly a man with a headset comes running over to us, “Are
you girls ready for a match? Our Women’s champion is stuck on the runway in
Manchester airport,”
My head feels ready to explode, words evade me, Kenzie squeezes
my hand.
“Yes, yes sir,” she says politely and with a sense of calm,
as I stand trying to contain myself and my rattling heart.
“OK, good, you’re up in twenty minutes. I’ll get your
opponents,” the man says and briskly walks off.
“It’s go time,” Kenzie says, the mad scientist look back on
her face.
We walk
through the curtain, after what feels like the best tag team match we’d ever
had, it feels like I’m walking on air. Here in the WPW, they truly are the
cream of the crop. Our opponents were on top of their game. We had chemistry,
we clicked inside that ring. Everything felt smooth, we listened to each other,
we listened to the crowd. I felt high on the story we told, the people’s
reaction. I can’t help the single tear that rolls down my cheek as the four of
us embrace, thanking each other for keeping each other safe, putting our lives
in each other’s hands, working together and making magic. Contract or no
contract, ten years of hard work and grafting for this moment alone feels worth
it. To experience wrestling on this level, it doesn’t get much better.
“Girls,” the gruff, unmistaken voice of WPW Owner, Phil
Wyatt, makes me jump. “Girls, I would like a word with you in my office,” he
barks.
I look at Kenzie, fighting the emotions and the fact that I
am kecking myself, she looks at me her eyes big, with that same twinkle inside
and then she laughs. I take in my sister, her features, the memories from our
entire lives being attached at the hip and then the past ten years, side by
side training to be the best tag team the world has ever seen and I laugh too.
It is now, or never.
His make shift office for this UK tour is simple, just a
giant brown desk in the middle of the room, with two chairs in front of it and
one behind it.
“Please, take a seat girls,” his voice sounds kinder now. “I
don’t normally do this, but that performance you just gave, well, I’m
impressed. I have a feeling you girls would take our Women’s division to new
heights. It’s rare you see a women’s tag team so in tune with each other, not
one trying to compete with the other. I can tell you’re in this together and
from watching you perform tonight, I think it’s time we got to work on a
Women’s Tag Team Division.”
I am trying to take in everything he is saying but my
hearing is stunted by the beat of my heart, did he just say Women’s Tag Team
Division? I gulp and tug at the neck of my outfit, feeling hot.
“If you would take these contracts and look them over and
let me know your answer as soon as you can, I would love to have you on board,”
Call it twin tuition but no thinking it over or discussing
it is needed. Kenzie and I move to the edges of our chairs, each grab a pen
from the pen pot on the desk and speak the words we have been busting our butts
for the past ten years to speak,
“Where do we sign?”
The end!
We know it isn't Christmas themed but we hope you enjoyed this story. Lucy wrote it a while ago and finally decided she was brave enough to let me share it with you today! :) Be sure to check out Lucy's debut novel 'How to Bake a New Beginning' and follow her:
Amazon
and The Blossom Twins
Happy Reading!
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