My childhood was anything but perfect. I may have had a mother, father. A house and everything I technically deserved to grow up well but I wasn't loved. Not like a child should be loved. I was just a pawn for business. It is like a step up from human trafficking. I was born to be a pawn at some point in my Father’s business. If I married some other rich guy’s son then boom... instant merger deal. They already had a son and one to spare to take over the business.
So I played nice for a long time. Going on dates with the sons. I even toyed with one guy who asked me to marry him at least once a week. I played the part until birthday twenty-one and I got my trust fund. I withdrew the whole thing. I took half and donated it to homeless shelters. I took the other half and invested most of it. A little fall back insurance.
After that stunt, I sorta blacked out. And when I woke up I had no recollection of what I had done. I was immediately diagnosed with IED.
If I agreed to get counselling, the people I maimed would not press charges.
That is where I met Kahlan. A fellow recovering IED survivor. When she talked about the things that got her through, the professional wrestling thing seemed to strike a chord with me. So I found her gym, I took the tour and signed myself up, much to the dissatisfaction of my parents.
That first day I came home with a black eye, they were in complete hysterics. It made my day. It wasn't long after, I moved out.
And at this point, my money is starting to run out since I do not want to touch my investments yet. So Kahlan suggested I do something with all this training.
So here I am. Ready to take names and kick asses.
You’re welcome.
***
Olympia Gym - Nevada
I was watching. I always watched though. It was sort of my M.O. you know? Most of the time I was good about keeping myself so far out of the picture I was basically unnoticed. Except, Kahlan saw me. She saw me in that group class, even though I had sat in the very back and kept my head down. I was determined to do my hours and move on with my life. But that first meeting with her... It was funny how alike we were. Only I haven’t gone and fucked like twenty-million guys and I don’t have a kid and two failed marriages... but I digress. I liked her regardless that she had screwed up her life. She was a good trainer and even better mentor. She even said so herself that it was the first time she had really tried to play big sister to someone from the group.
Deacon and Percy were in the ring. Percy was still kinda messed up from having not one but two submission holds put on his right arm. Although, I would never admit this publically, I think that Tyler guy’s was probably more painful. But you know, with a name like Percy... you were kinda asking to be the chump in the ring.
Percy called it a day and slipped out of the ring. Bliss was at the front desk, dealing with some phone calls. I could hear her voice even from the back where the ring is. Deacon looks down at me.
Deacon: “Hey kid, What some practice? I’m not really ready to check out yet.”
Deacon was not nearly as large as Ty was but he was bigger than me. Not saying much since I was 5’3 and nearly everyone was taller than me.
I offer him a shrug and climb up onto the ropes. Deacon was okay looking. I mean in that rugged, unkempt way. He had a beard. I dunno why beards were sexy to women nowadays. I saw a beard and thought... That is like pubic hair on your face. Like what nasty stuff is hiding in there. And then the idea of putting my face close enough to it that it rubs and all those germs get on my skin... yup. Nope. any guy I date has to be clean shaven. No beard. Sorry Deacon.
Deacon: “So how are you liking getting to be backstage at a real show?”
I shrug as I start stretching out my arms.
Deacon: “You don’t talk much, do you?”
Damn. A question that if I just answered no or yes I would have to elaborate with more probing questions.
Effie: “Not really. Kind of a waste of time unless you have something important to say.”
He nods. I think that I just lost some hotness points to him. Good. I didn’t want him getting any ideas. Which was why I made sure to shoot down Ty at every opportunity. I knew how guys worked. THey saw a girl like me and it was like a challenge to soothe this savage beast. Nope. Don’t need a man. I didn’t even know if I liked guys... or girls... it hadn't ever really been a thing for me. I kept to myself. I observed without actually having any personal emotional feelings about anyone.
Deacon: “And this is one of those times?”
Effie: “Yes. Can we just spar or what? This isn’t ladies social tea.”
He laughs. FUCK. ME. I don’t want him to laugh... it meant he thought I was funny. Thinking someone is funny means that you don’t hate them enough to not try to get to know them. I didn’t want people getting to know me. I didn’t want people in my life other than to serve my purpose to survive. Like Ty and me; having to follow him around backstage at the SCW shows. It was mutually beneficial to us both at this point. Bliss would kill either of us, if either of us got killed.
Deacon: “Right you are.”
We went back and forth with grappling. He showed me a few moves, helped me practice a few top rope maneuvers. It was all good. Then when he said he was done, he held onto my arms a little too long and I saw his nasty, red beard coming right for me and I sidestepped, then promptly kneed him in the balls. It doubled him over and I quickly walked away.
Deacon: “What the fuck Effie?”
I shrugged as he looked at me, there was hurt in his eyes and it wasn’t just from being nearly castrated either.
Effie: “Beards are gross.”
He rolls his eyes. He slowly stands up straight.
Deacon: “You seriously kneed me in the sack because I have a beard?”
I hold up a finger.
Effie: “NO. I kneed you in the sack because you thought it was an open invitation to kiss me. Having a beard is just gross.”
As if. He doesn’t get it and that original thought process he had been developing that I may be datable was gone. Success. Crisis averted. He looks angry as he leaves the ring. He stops to talk to Kahlan on his way to the locker room. She looks over at me still in the ring and then back to Deacon. She then walks over to the ring and stands outside it.
Bliss: “I guess that didn’t go as he wanted then?”
I shook my head and started rebounding myself from one side of the ring to the other, using the ropes to propel myself.
Bliss: “I understand why, but what I don't get is why you are such a man hater.”
I wasn’t a Man hater...
Effie: “I just hate people in general. I am not a sexist. I don’t discriminate against penis or vag.”
I think Bliss always thought I was like her but in this regard, I think I was further gone than she was. At least she had brothers and a Dad to love her growing up and then later in life, she added two adopted sisters and tonnes of nieces and nephews. The Fischer family were a regular Brady Bunch.
Bliss climbs up onto the apron.
Bliss: “I am not in the habit of prying Eff, but what’s going on?”
This was that chick’s influence. What's her name... Lexi or something... Electra.. That’s right. Like the Daredevil side chick.
Effie: “Nothing that hasn’t been going on for the last twenty-three years boss-lady.”
Bliss smirks.
Bliss: “I think Ty got you using that word.”
Damn it. She was right. Ty always called Kahlan that in conversation, as one sided as it usually was between us.
Effie: “Sorry. Bliss.”
Bliss: “I am not going to force you to talk to me. But if you ever do need to do that... you know where to find me and please... just do me a favour... don't break my students. They kinda put food on my table.”
She jumps down from the apron and starts to walk away. She calls out over her shoulder as she does.
Bliss: “I’m closing up soon so better get your shit from the locker room.”
I hated that I actually kinda liked her. Just when I was trying to be as antisocial as possible she comes up and has to relate to me and shit.
***
I found myself once again scouting.
This chick was good, I mean she had made it through the BFTP tournament with flair. I didn't want to sound cocky but I felt like I could take her. People always seemed to assume rookies were all the same. They were green. They made errors that the decrepit geezers didn't. In my opinion, it was more than just having your moves down to a fine point. It was being adaptable as well. The young have been proven to be more creative, so while I respect people that have been in a ring since the Quaternary period they need to make like early man and evolve or get busy dying in an ice age.
Anyway... chicky poo is going back and forth with some dude that looked like he took a nosedive from the ugly bastard tree and double hit every branch on the way before slamming face first into the ground. He was obviously no match for her and within minutes, the mock match was over and the guy looked like the dude from Mask... you know where the kid has this gigantic face disorder? This guys face was swelling like he got stung by a billion Wasps.
Chickee is checking her wraps. I don't want to be presumptuous and think she hasn't noticed me. This is probably the 5th or 6th time I have observed her. I considered her my toughest competition and in so doing, someone I needed to watch for weakness.
When I did finally get into an SCW ring, this was the girl I wanted to mangle. Mostly because she was an arrogant know it all but the other part was because she messed with my friend. I don't have many of those so I am like a bear.
Grrr Baby, grr.
