Emmie Ward prided herself on her appearance, her fashion sense and her ability to motivate people. Not even someone like Jonathan Asherson King the third could crack her surface, despite how stubborn and insufferable he was. So she had been determined to try and motivate him to get back in a ring since his loss to Lachlan Kane had defeated his will to fight, leading to their first loss as a tag team.
She knew what he was capable of, the scar on his hand was proof of that. She knew that he would do whatever it took to become the king of the mountain. She just needed to nudge that person inside him.
The guard that sat in the booth outside Jack’s gated community knew her and waved her in. she had been there every single day in the weeks since their last match. She rolls down the window of her beat-up little corolla and he leans out from his booth.
“Think you’ll make any headway today Miss Emmie?”
George Franklin was a nice man. Emmie had taken the time to get to know the man, to the point of always asking him about his wife, his kids, and his ill mother. She had a way of making an impression on anyone, even the seemingly impeachable Jack Asher.
“I come with an actual match and it has meaning, so I think so,” she replies. She is still getting used to being on the opposite side of the car and the road, but unlike what most people complained about the most, she had taken to the adjustment quite well, further proof that most Americans that came to the UK were wimps when confronted with a real issue... like adapting to a different way of life.
“Well, I offer you all the luck in the world.”
Emmie isn’t stupid, not by a long shot. She had given up a scholarship to Oxford University to go after her wrestling dream, much to the dismay of her parents and her much older first cousin once removed, meaning that her father and Mark Ward were first cousins. She just called him Uncle Mark out of respect though. He had actually been like an uncle to her growing up and had been instrumental in making sure that when she refused to give up on her dream of being in the wrestling business, she got a decent trainer. And just to prove that Mark didn’t hand out contracts, he told Emmie she had to prove herself worthy, by teaming with the most difficult man on the roster, Jack Asher. She knew he was just trying to dissuade her further from being in the business. He was always mentioning how she should go to Uni, be a doctor or a lawyer. But Emmie wanted this. She had always wanted this. Since she was eight years old and she had gone to a show with her ‘unke’ Mark.
She pulls into the driveway of the house that Jack’s father owned, of course, he owned a Tesla Model S. She rolled her eyes. While she was more than happy to do what she could to help the environment, spending nearly sixty K on a car was just more than she was willing to sacrifice but for the King family, that was peanuts. Much like the house. It wasn’t a huge house by house standards but for Emmie, who had grown up in a semi in London’s downtown, this house was huge. Three bedrooms, open concept main floor and a fully functioning personal gym in the basement. She sighs deeply and waves at a neighbor walking their poodle across the street. She smiles in a way that Emmie knows is that way that snooty people do when they are about to go home and gossip. She was sure there were rumors circulating since Jack’s long-time girlfriend had left him and now that she had been showing up every day for weeks, well...
She then turns her attention to the lock on Jack’s door. It was coded instead of key’d so she types it in. It beeps at her.
“Oh, Bollocks...” she scrambles through her purse for a piece of paper but manages to dump half of its contents on the concrete of the porch. And that’s where she is when Jack answers the door. He smirks at her mess.
“Jesus Ems, you’ll wake the dead with how much noise you make.”
He then turns, leaving her to clean up her own mess. She respected that he wasn’t one of those guys that bent over backward to impress people but in the same respect, the man had no idea what chivalry was, or that it wasn’t dead like most women tried to claim it was.
When she finally collects the receipts and makeup from the porch, she walks into the house and immediately notices the smell. It reminded her of a locker room. That errant stale smell of just generally being unwashed wafted up and made her flair her nostrils in disgust, and even though she had been here nearly every day in the last few weeks, she still wasn’t prepared for it and it seemed to ferment more every day. He had returned back to his lounger, his laptop on his lap and on the screen is an animated game. One in which the user can clean, remodel and flip a home to resale.
Emmie got the concept. She thought she might even enjoy playing it too but this had been all Jack had been playing. For hours. Except when she came over and they worked out in the gym in his basement. The ring set up down there was not nearly as big as the six-sided one that SCW used but it was enough to practice their skills and get to know each other’s moves so they could anticipate each other. It was part of what made being partners stronger. To know each other well enough. To have each other’s backs. To not make the same mistakes that they had made a month ago against Amy and Vinnie.
She watches him for a moment before she reaches over and presses the power button on the laptop.
“Wha... Emmie... What the...”
Emmie crosses her arms across her chest.
“You have been holed up in this place for too long. When was the last time you actually went outside?”
He shrugs. “Yesterday.”
“Really?” she raises her eyebrows, skeptical.
“Yes. I went to get the mail.”
Emmie sighs deeply. “That doesn’t count. You’ve been using a service to bring you food. You haven’t cleaned this living room for over a month. Your house smells like you had the entity of the Manchester footie team changing in here. I think it’s time to clean this up. I just got word from Uncle Mark. They’re forcing Gamer’s Inc to vacate and they’re doing a tourney. We are wrestling this Sunday and we need to beat that dragon team from SCU to advance.”
Jack’s immediate displeasure with the game being shut off is disrupted as he looks at her with a smirk. “Really? Those imbeciles think they can play in our schoolyard?”
He chuckles as he places his laptop on the coffee table, which by the way was littered with empty cartons and cans that once held various kinds of beer.
“This is a big opportunity, Jack. We have to be ready for this and that means you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself. Yes, you lost to Lachlan Kane. Yes, we lost to Amy and Vinnie but not again.”
She knew that it was the motivation he needed to get off the lounger. It was the motivation he needed to stop pouting, to stop feeling pity that his girlfriend left him.
“You claim to be the uncrowned prince well people just think you are some fool that can’t live up to that. Don’t you think it’s time to shut up those wankers? I’d like to see you shut up Kane and his girlfriend.
“They kept talking about their past success as tag champs but yet they couldn’t cut it in the singles division. Lachlan beat me but couldn’t get past Griffin. So here they are crawling back to tags like there is no competition. Plus the #1 thing that makes us the best candidates is that we are one hundred percent committed to SCW, no secondary companies. If you divide your time how can you be worthy? But there is us and they are already underestimating us. I won’t let that happen.”
He stood and the waft of sweat causes Emmie to gag.
“Go have a shower and I’ll call a maid to clean this house. I'd do it myself but I think I’d end up speaking welsh..”
Jack raises an eyebrow. “What?”
Emmie immediately laughs. “You Americans... You’ll know our slang soon enough. Throw up I believe is what you say. Just go get yourself cleaned up, alright. I’ll meet you downstairs and we’ll discuss strategies. I’ve been doing some research on these... Dragons.”
He nods and disappears upstairs. Emmie looks around and rolls her eyes. She wasn’t an advocate for thinking that relationships actually made things better but she was seriously considering letting Bobbie be his wingman and at least get him laid. Maybe it would make him feel manly... or something.
***
“Dragonade” - A Promo
There is no physical proof that Dragons ever really existed. Just like Unicorns, trolls, and elves. They are all fantasy, much like the idea that Fire Dragons will win. I am well aware that they have more experience in the ring together, but Jack and I have spent every day together for the last month, learning, getting to know each other. There is nothing that can truly replace that. I don’t want to use that old adage of “They’re on the B show” like Jack does because I think everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, however... There is more to being a champion than just being thrown together by chance and being successful and successful has been a good word for them in Sin City Underground.
But this isn’t underground. This is Sin City Wrestling. The main show. And the Tag titles are more than just one of how many sets you could win while there? Three was it I believe? If you want to be an SCW tag champion you gotta be the best in the division and I truly believe that Jack and I have what it takes.
Say what you will about Jack and his attitude, but Tell me, Mark? Valentina? Would you put your hand willingly into the fire to obtain the titles? And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Because Jack did to get the chance at the Roulette title. Then he put that contendership on the line despite the stakes. Yes, he lost to Lachlan but that was because of me. I distracted him because I didn’t know him then. If we were in the place we are now, back then, then he would still be the Roulette #1 Contender... or better yet, the Roulette champion.
Life has this funny way of throwing us curves. And you can either take those curves on the chin or you can let them knock you down. We are getting back up. We are not letting a few missteps leave us in the dust. We have used those curves to be better. Because that is what you are supposed to do when life hands you lemons. Make some lemonade. And that’s what we’re doing, only we’re going to be making fire dragonade.
Honestly, I have nothing against either of you personally. You both seem like lovely folks, but this isn’t tea social. We aren’t here to make friends, we are here to win some titles. I'm not sorry about that and I hope you aren’t either. In fact, I would rather people not feel bad about coming into a match with me, especially if they think I am too nice or too sweet. I am a Ward. I can be very nasty if the mood strikes but get on my good side and you have a friend for life.
And by all means, if either of you wanna grab a pint sometime I am more than happy to, but I have wanted this since I was eight years old and I have sacrificed a fair bit just to be here. I wasn’t handed anything, despite me being related to one of the owners. He has made me work even harder than most of you lot ever will have too. But I’m glad for it, it just means that there should be no doubt about how much I deserve to be here. So if you guys or anyone else think I just batted my eyes and got signed then you are most certainly wrong.
I have a good partner, he knows wrestling and he’s good at it, but like me, he’s new to this particular industry as a participant so a lot of people take that for granted. That won’t be the case this time though. Not just the Fire Dragons, but every team entering this tourney is going to be surprised at the chemistry that Jack and I have. It’s not friendship, it’s not because we’re sleeping together, which we are not, by the way, It’s because we have the same goal, the same focus.
I may not be as strong as Devona, or as decorated as Mercedes but I am not without skills. Frankly, I love being me. I don't mind being small or thin. I don't mind being new either because I won't be new forever. I don't like when anyone thinks they are invincible. I know I am not, and Jack definitely knows he isn't either but that doesn't mean that one loss as a team indicates what we will be going forward. We are not destined for failure, we are meant to be the mixed tag champions.
Jack wanted so badly to put Gamers Inc in their place but now, he has new 'fish to fry'.
So like I said, I like Unicorns and Dragons but that doesn't mean I believe they have any sort of magical influence over my confidence in a ring. I'll show that with a win on Sunday.
The first and most important part about being part of a team is thinking like a team. That’s why we are what SCW needs. We are the saviors. Get used to that idea, we are not going anywhere.
***
Emmie Francis Ward was a stubborn girl. She refused to give up simply because someone said she should. Once she had an idea in her head, she went for it and she pushed until she succeeded and much to the chagrin of her parents, Patrick Ward and Sylvia Parker-Ward, she had turned down a full scholarship to Oxford University in lieu of training to become a professional wrestler. Her ‘uncle’ Mark had even offered to pay for her own flat if she decided not to go through with it but it wasn’t enough. She had decided at eight years, four months and twenty-six days old that she was going to be a professional wrestler and now, at age seventeen, three months and sixteen days she was going forward with that.
Her mum was a pleasant-looking woman, an implant from Nevada USA into London via a job with a well-known lawyer's office had brought her here. It had only been a year-long contract but that year had her falling in love with Patrick Ward and staying permanently.
At this point, She leaned on the doorframe of Emmie’s room and watched as Emmie filled her suitcase with her clothing. She was moving to Nevada herself, staying with her Maternal Grandparents while she was trained by the best. Sylvia was trying her best not to cry at the idea of her only daughter leaving. The only daughter that the couple had been able to carry to term.
Emmie got lonely sometimes growing up being an only child, but she was thankful for her parents and for the life she had, despite never being particularly wealthy, but now, she had to spread her wings even if it meant facing the disappointment from her parents, even if they were trying hard not to let it show.
“Have you got everything you need?” Sylvia asks. She hides her sob in a kleenex by pretending to sneeze. It was her allergies of course, not that her daughter, not even an official adult by USA standards, was moving away.
“Yup. And I'm sure Granny and Poppy will have everything else.”
Sylvie bites her lip but then can’t hold it back and immediately starts to sob. Emmie is quick to give her mother a hug of comfort.
“I know Mum. I know you and Da don’t like that I'm going but you’re both trying too hard to be supportive anyway and you know I love you both all the more for that. I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll call home every weekend. And I’ll come home when I can. Uncle Mark has said that if I ever needed that, he’d pay for my ticket.”
And he had. Emmie had returned home for both Christmas and Easter every year since she had gone to the United States.
“I know. And I know you’ll be fine. I grew up in Nevada. I mean it’s changed a lot but still, You’re just as bullheaded and strong as I am. I just wish...”
She cuts herself off, not wanting to make her daughter feel guilty.
“I know mum. It’s okay. You don’t have to like everything I do. I just need you to be my parents, ya? And I know that won’t change.”
Once when Emmie was young, she had asked her mom if there was ever something she could do that would cause Syvie not to love her anymore, the woman and replied, “there is nothing you could ever do that would ever make me stop loving you Emmie, even if you murdered someone. Mind you, I would want you to pay for your crimes, but that wouldn’t change my love for you.”
And Emmie had lived with those words, understanding that it wasn’t her behaviour that her parents loved or didn’t love, it was just her. Whoever she turned out to be, that love was never dying. It was for that reason that Emmie was comfortable with her career decision. It was also why she had turned out to be a pretty terrific kid.
Emmie returns to her suitcase to latch it closed and then looks up at her mother with a smile.
“I know this is going to be hard but I know that this is what I was meant to be. I can feel it, in my stomach. It’s like a need. I can’t fully explain it.”
Sylvie clears her throat. “I get it. I wanted to be a lawyer since I was little too. And I fought to be one even though the odds were against me. I had to do extra credit work, I had to take summer school. I had to take so many tutoring classes in college and university but I got there and I’m better for it and one of the things that helped me succeed was because my parents treated me the same way your Dad and I treated you. I am proud of you Emmie. I really am.”
During the flight to Las Vegas, where her grandparents had relocated in the years after her mother had left home, she kept thinking about how she could have been a much different person had she had different parents.
Her 'uncle' Mark gives her a curious look over his newspaper.
"You good?"
Emmie smiles. "Absolutely."
"Because if you still wanna take that scholarship..."
He raises an eyebrow. Her cousin had never had siblings and so her own father had been something of a surrogate younger brother, hence why he was more of an uncle than her father's cousin.
"I have never been more sure of anything..."
Flash forward to the current day and Emmie is standing at the top of the ramp. The stage is being setup in preparation for Sunday's show. She's in yoga pants and a t-shirt tied in a knot on the side. The words, "WARD-EN of the north" cheekily embossed across the lime green. She's more nervous about this match then her debut against Amy Santino and Senor Vinnie. Because this one meant more. This was the one where she made it up to Jack. Where she proved to him that she was as good as she claimed to be. A hand on her shoulder doesn't even startle her. Partly because she had seen him coming but she wasn't going to tell him that.
"So, big opportunity huh?"
It's Ty West. A man that she respected. A man that she had to admit was very good looking.
"You bet. I will not fail."
He offers her a smile. "I wish I could say you had a great partner though..."
She turns angry eyes to the former Roulette champion. "I do have a great partner. I really wish people would stop treating him like he doesn't have any business here. Especially you... Mr. Actor-turned-wrestler..."
Ty steps back. "Woah...I didn't mean..."
"To offend me? Ya I bet. Look, I respect you a lot and despite what Jack says, I think you will be champion sooner rather than later, but please don't add to the growing amount of jokes about Jack. It might seem trivial to you but he had his heart smashed and his confidence crushed. Cut him a break."
Ty smiles. "You are a Ward." He laughs. "Alright, I'll reserve judgement on his skills in a ring. He's still an arrogant prick outside it though."
She waves it off. "We can't all be a boy scout." She winks and he laughs again.
He shakes his head as he walks away and Emmie feels proud. She wasn't some girl that shied away from conflict. This was her chance and she was not going to let everyone down.
