This wasn’t her first time hanging around in the back before a match, in the area that wrestlers called the ‘gorilla position’ for some strange reason. She had plenty of matches around the world, so she knew the pressure that mounted before a match, the energy that ran through you before you stepped into those lights and made your way towards the cage. Even though this was a new sport with new rules in a new setting, she’d been under the impression that this part, at least, wouldn’t be too different than what she was accustomed to.
She was wrong. It was hard to put into words, but she could hear the rumbling din from beyond the curtains, and they just sounded…different. More energetic, rowdier, crazier. Not that she hadn't fought before enthusiastic fans before, but the tenor was different, like the heavy metal cover of a pop song. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but it was a thing, no question.
It wasn’t doing wonders for her nerves, either. Here she stood, ready to fight in her first pro wrestling match, and she couldn't shake the feeling that her father was watching. Kind of a silly thought, the more she mulled it over - after all, even if there was a heaven and even if her father went to it, she could be pretty sure that they didn’t let you watch LAW there. It was a comforting notion, though, and it gave her the extra oomph she needed to go through with all of this in the first place.
Just another fight. Close your eyes. Focus. Deep breaths.
A buzz from her pocket was enough to end all of that, and she fished it out with a sigh. Probably her brother calling again to give her advice she didn’t need, or her sister posting some picture about cats, or-
It was Mina. Good.
[MINA: Hey, you.
MINA: We’re all watching back home! Do us proud!]
Those few words of encouragement from her girlfriend were exactly what she needed right now, warming her heart and fortifying her mind. She was about to text her back and tell her as much, too, when a stagehand came up from the side, tapping her on the shoulder. “Ms. Gunn? We’re about to queue up your music. Are you ready?”
She shrugged and let it all out with a long huff. “As I’ll ever be.” She cracked her neck from side to side as her music began to play and the audience’s rumbling reached a new level. “Let’s get this started.”
It was funny, when she thought about it. This was not the first time she’d been in a wrestling arena. Her father had dragged her to his matches all the time, even when she stopped wanting to come, almost never having the time to find a good babysitter for her. She’d been in crowd’s larger than this all over the states. This shouldn’t have been anything new to her.
But as she made her way to the ring with her music blaring all around her, she was able to appreciate the difference between being in the crowd and being on the ramp, having all that focus aimed straight at you. It was stultifying, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was how her father felt when he came out for his first match, too. All that pressure, all those expectations, hitting you like a tidal wave.
He’d pushed past it, though. So could she.
Bebe balled her fists, made her way up the stairs, and slid into the ring with a quick hop on the other side. She gave the audience a quick wave, feeling the need to do something to acknowledge them, then shuffled over to her corner and bounced on her toes as she waited for her music to die down. Had to keep that blood pumping, be ready for whatever was coming her way.
Bebe Gunn!
