Post by olympia on Apr 25, 2012 0:48:07 GMT -5
Sophie Fong chewed absentmindedly on a piece of celery at the end of a long, boring day. Students were beginning to file out of the War Path Professional Wrestling school and pile into their cars for the drive home. A few of them walked past her and headed for the bus stop at the end of the street. She would stay. There was nowhere else for her to go. Home was far away. Out on the other coast far away. She was a twentysomething from San Francisco who'd crossed the country to find her dreams in New York City, the way dozens of young women had. Her dreams though? They were a little bit unorthodox. When other girls dreamed of being an actress, she dreamed of being a warrior. For Sophie Fong, that meant this place. That meant being a professional wrestler.
She trained later than anyone. Oh, sure, throughout the day she worked with the rest of the class. The trainers at War Path were amazing and she'd never insult them by not using them to the best of their ability. But, when everybody else went home? When everyone else was resting their aching muscles? Someone else showed up at War Path. Someone who the students only spoke about in hushed little whispers between cardio sessions. Someone who was more a rumor than anything else. Someone no one else saw but her. Tonight, she was there to train with him.
When the last car pulled out of the lot, held by independent wrestling stars Marcus Draven and Alex Kincaid, she rushed back to the building and unlocked the door. It'd taken years to earn enough trust for a key. She wondered often if they'd think she was abusing it by these sessions. Still, he had to have a key right? Otherwise, how did he get into the building every night? Unless he was already there. Maybe he was a student already who-
She caught herself. It was always this. Always trying to figure out his identity when it'd long proven impossible. She opened the door and headed inside. War Path was old school. No machines mucking up the weight training area. Just a lot of free weights. There was a VCR set up in the corner, which would go toward watching the dozens of old tapes they had from wrestlers all over the world. What dominated the building though, and indeed it should, was the ring. The eighteen by eighteen foot squared circle with it's white ropes, tape around them frayed and starting to fall off. Duct tape fixing tiny holes in the canvas. No matter how terrible it looked though, it was home to all of them.
Which included him.
She drew in a breath when he saw him. There was a quality to him that drew the eye. No matter what he was doing, he just had this regal element to him. Yet, he also looked stunningly natural no matter what he was doing. At the moment, he was doing a bridging drill. He was in a headstand against the bottom turnbuckle, bringing his legs up in a headstand then bringing them back to the ground. Over and over, he repeated this action. He was dressed in a pair of baggy track shorts. He was shirtless, revealing a build that was well built but more lean than many of his contemporaries in the wrestling business. Finally, he wore his mask. The silver mask that she had never seen him without. It covered all of his face save for his eyes. It had a metallic sheen to it, seeming to reflect rainbow patterns of light across it's surface. Near as she can tell it left no room to breath, yet somehow he did. Somehow.
“Hello, Sophie Fong.”
The voice was stiff and formal. That was how he always addressed her the first time he spoke to her during these sessions. He didn't stop his drill, but she could see his eyes behind the mask turn to look at her.
“Hello Olympia.”
Olympia. It was absurd that she didn't know his name right? She'd been training at this school for months, she'd been training with him personally almost since the beginning. He finally finished another bridge and rolled up to his feet. She wondered what his expression was like under the silver. Was he smiling? What he happy to see her? He sounded serious. Constantly serious.
“I saw a bit of the training session today.” He said curtly “Looked like you were having a little trouble with the springboard.”
She bit her lip, slightly embarrassed. She had been. She'd tried to springboard a few times and had failed. It should have come naturally but it wasn't “Yeah. It'll come. I don't know, I'm just...I'm having a weird time with it you know? I thought it'd be easier given my background.”
“Wrestling isn't the circus, as similar as it might feel.” Olympia corrected. He walked over to the ropes and climbed through to stand beside her. She swallowed nervously, standing there beside him. He broke the silence a second later “What's the matter?”
“Nothing. Just a little strange to be learning like this without anyone around to help.”
“You can trust me.” He said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. He nodded his head behind her “Go to the corner. Stand there.”
Sophie moved down the apron and stood there, hands on the ropes. She watched him. He sprung into the air, his feet landing against the rope and he jumped from the ropes into the middle of the ring. He landed softly on his feet and turned to face her, waiving for her to try. She leaned back, pulling on the ropes and making sure they were snug. It would be easy right? Just bend your knees and hop up, all you had to do was get to the top rope and then use that to fly. It'd be simple. The corner of the ring had more spring than anywhere else. Easy. She pulled back as hard as she could and she leaped. It happened in less than a second, her toes catching the rope and her stumbling into the ring. Everything slowed down. The canvas swelled impossibly larger in her view as she hurtled toward it. Then, he was there trying to snatch her up before she hit the ground. It didn't work. Her face collided with the mat and she saw stars as he rested her seated in the corner.
“Sophie.” He whispered “Sophie. Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
“Ow.”
“Well...yes.” He replied “You took quite the tumble. Do you need anything? Water? Anything?”
“You're...” Sophie muttered, waving him away and trying to clear her head “You're not supposed to give a person water when they fall on their head. Seriously.”
Her vision cleared a bit and she looked at him. Now she was sure he was smiling underneath the mask, just by the way his eyes moved. “Fair enough. The things you know, little one. Impressive. Why are you having so much trouble with this? You've been talking about wanting to fly for months.”
Sophie sighed and held her forehead “Nobody will drill it with me. They keep telling me that we're not that kind of school. We're here to wrestle. Oh, clotheslines we'll drill all damn day. Boston crabs get a freakin' seminar but that's...I just want to fly you know?”
“So fly.” Olympia said softly “Lucha Libre's never been taken seriously by the wrestling community. They see it as showmanship for the sake of showmanship. They don't understand the art. They don't hear what you and I hear. That little voice in our hearts that tells us we have to fly. We have to soar like Icarus to the sun.”
“You do know what happened to Icarus right?” She joked.
He nodded “I believe he stumbled over the ropes and slammed his face into the mat.”
She slapped him away and used the ropes to pull herself up, before sliding out to the apron. She held the ropes again and bent back and the masked man clicked his tongue “No, no, no. Listen. You're too stiff. You're trying to manhandle the ring. It's canvas, little bird. We're artists. You brush with a paint brush. You don't stab. Be calmer.”
Sophie laughed nervously at how poetic the wording was and moved back and forth on her heels. What if she fell again? Next time could be worse if he didn't catch her. Had to be careful. Had to be-
“Don't jump, Little Bird. Fly.”
That was it. Sophie flew. Her feet were on the ropes before she knew it and she jumped into the air, higher than she'd ever been in the ring before. Again, things slowed. She was high above the ring with her eyes wide and the warm air that ran through the training center in her face.
Thud! She was back on earth. She turned to face him, giving a joyful whoop and running across the ring to wrap her arms around him. He coughed uncomfortably and she took a step back, brushing a strand of hair away and smiling nervously “Thank you. Thank you so much. I...I think I get it. I mean, I'll have to practice but I think I can do that again.”
He nodded and hopped to the floor “Wrestle how your heart tells you to wrestle. Don't let this school dictate who you are. Make the choice to be who you will be.”
“...Who ARE you Olympia?”
Her question made him freeze in place. Then, he turned around to face her. He stared at her and for a minute she was worried she had offended him. A second later, and the paranoia set in. Oh sure, she knew how to fight. She was also a relatively tiny asian girl alone in a dark gym with a mysterious man who could be some kind of masked axe murderer. She sighed and tried to elaborate “I know you're a good person. I know you have access to this gym. I know you're...you're an artist in the ring. That doesn't do it though, we're friends right? So who ARE you?”
“I am Olympia.”
The answer was infuriating. Simple to say, and yet it brought a dozen stunningly complicated questions to her mind. She climbed through the ropes and dropped to the floor “I mean when you're not wrestling. I mean...I mean the real you. I mean behind the mask.”
She stood in front of him and stared into his eyes. He looked uncertain at first, but then spoke in a confident tone “I am still Olympia. There hasn't been a behind the mask in many, many years.”
“Why stay here?” Sophie asked, throwing her hands up helplessly “I never hear about you on shows. I never see you wrestle. I just see you train. Constantly. Over and over again. Why? What's the point? What are you doing?”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her expression. Then, he walked away from her and over to the VCR. He bent down to dig through a gym bag she hadn't noticed and came up with a flyer. The masked man walked back over and handed it to her. She unfolded it, seeing a wrinkled up piece of paper advertising New York City Championship Wrestling.
“I'm getting ready to fly again, Little Bird.”
With that he walked away from her. His silver mask vanished into the shadows while she watched him leave, uncertain of what to say. She would search for him a few minutes later and be unable to find him. How he made it out of the building without her seeing him would be anyone's guess. She would be sure to be at NYCCW though, to see if he would wrestle there. To see who Olympia really was.
She trained later than anyone. Oh, sure, throughout the day she worked with the rest of the class. The trainers at War Path were amazing and she'd never insult them by not using them to the best of their ability. But, when everybody else went home? When everyone else was resting their aching muscles? Someone else showed up at War Path. Someone who the students only spoke about in hushed little whispers between cardio sessions. Someone who was more a rumor than anything else. Someone no one else saw but her. Tonight, she was there to train with him.
When the last car pulled out of the lot, held by independent wrestling stars Marcus Draven and Alex Kincaid, she rushed back to the building and unlocked the door. It'd taken years to earn enough trust for a key. She wondered often if they'd think she was abusing it by these sessions. Still, he had to have a key right? Otherwise, how did he get into the building every night? Unless he was already there. Maybe he was a student already who-
She caught herself. It was always this. Always trying to figure out his identity when it'd long proven impossible. She opened the door and headed inside. War Path was old school. No machines mucking up the weight training area. Just a lot of free weights. There was a VCR set up in the corner, which would go toward watching the dozens of old tapes they had from wrestlers all over the world. What dominated the building though, and indeed it should, was the ring. The eighteen by eighteen foot squared circle with it's white ropes, tape around them frayed and starting to fall off. Duct tape fixing tiny holes in the canvas. No matter how terrible it looked though, it was home to all of them.
Which included him.
She drew in a breath when he saw him. There was a quality to him that drew the eye. No matter what he was doing, he just had this regal element to him. Yet, he also looked stunningly natural no matter what he was doing. At the moment, he was doing a bridging drill. He was in a headstand against the bottom turnbuckle, bringing his legs up in a headstand then bringing them back to the ground. Over and over, he repeated this action. He was dressed in a pair of baggy track shorts. He was shirtless, revealing a build that was well built but more lean than many of his contemporaries in the wrestling business. Finally, he wore his mask. The silver mask that she had never seen him without. It covered all of his face save for his eyes. It had a metallic sheen to it, seeming to reflect rainbow patterns of light across it's surface. Near as she can tell it left no room to breath, yet somehow he did. Somehow.
“Hello, Sophie Fong.”
The voice was stiff and formal. That was how he always addressed her the first time he spoke to her during these sessions. He didn't stop his drill, but she could see his eyes behind the mask turn to look at her.
“Hello Olympia.”
Olympia. It was absurd that she didn't know his name right? She'd been training at this school for months, she'd been training with him personally almost since the beginning. He finally finished another bridge and rolled up to his feet. She wondered what his expression was like under the silver. Was he smiling? What he happy to see her? He sounded serious. Constantly serious.
“I saw a bit of the training session today.” He said curtly “Looked like you were having a little trouble with the springboard.”
She bit her lip, slightly embarrassed. She had been. She'd tried to springboard a few times and had failed. It should have come naturally but it wasn't “Yeah. It'll come. I don't know, I'm just...I'm having a weird time with it you know? I thought it'd be easier given my background.”
“Wrestling isn't the circus, as similar as it might feel.” Olympia corrected. He walked over to the ropes and climbed through to stand beside her. She swallowed nervously, standing there beside him. He broke the silence a second later “What's the matter?”
“Nothing. Just a little strange to be learning like this without anyone around to help.”
“You can trust me.” He said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. He nodded his head behind her “Go to the corner. Stand there.”
Sophie moved down the apron and stood there, hands on the ropes. She watched him. He sprung into the air, his feet landing against the rope and he jumped from the ropes into the middle of the ring. He landed softly on his feet and turned to face her, waiving for her to try. She leaned back, pulling on the ropes and making sure they were snug. It would be easy right? Just bend your knees and hop up, all you had to do was get to the top rope and then use that to fly. It'd be simple. The corner of the ring had more spring than anywhere else. Easy. She pulled back as hard as she could and she leaped. It happened in less than a second, her toes catching the rope and her stumbling into the ring. Everything slowed down. The canvas swelled impossibly larger in her view as she hurtled toward it. Then, he was there trying to snatch her up before she hit the ground. It didn't work. Her face collided with the mat and she saw stars as he rested her seated in the corner.
“Sophie.” He whispered “Sophie. Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
“Ow.”
“Well...yes.” He replied “You took quite the tumble. Do you need anything? Water? Anything?”
“You're...” Sophie muttered, waving him away and trying to clear her head “You're not supposed to give a person water when they fall on their head. Seriously.”
Her vision cleared a bit and she looked at him. Now she was sure he was smiling underneath the mask, just by the way his eyes moved. “Fair enough. The things you know, little one. Impressive. Why are you having so much trouble with this? You've been talking about wanting to fly for months.”
Sophie sighed and held her forehead “Nobody will drill it with me. They keep telling me that we're not that kind of school. We're here to wrestle. Oh, clotheslines we'll drill all damn day. Boston crabs get a freakin' seminar but that's...I just want to fly you know?”
“So fly.” Olympia said softly “Lucha Libre's never been taken seriously by the wrestling community. They see it as showmanship for the sake of showmanship. They don't understand the art. They don't hear what you and I hear. That little voice in our hearts that tells us we have to fly. We have to soar like Icarus to the sun.”
“You do know what happened to Icarus right?” She joked.
He nodded “I believe he stumbled over the ropes and slammed his face into the mat.”
She slapped him away and used the ropes to pull herself up, before sliding out to the apron. She held the ropes again and bent back and the masked man clicked his tongue “No, no, no. Listen. You're too stiff. You're trying to manhandle the ring. It's canvas, little bird. We're artists. You brush with a paint brush. You don't stab. Be calmer.”
Sophie laughed nervously at how poetic the wording was and moved back and forth on her heels. What if she fell again? Next time could be worse if he didn't catch her. Had to be careful. Had to be-
“Don't jump, Little Bird. Fly.”
That was it. Sophie flew. Her feet were on the ropes before she knew it and she jumped into the air, higher than she'd ever been in the ring before. Again, things slowed. She was high above the ring with her eyes wide and the warm air that ran through the training center in her face.
Thud! She was back on earth. She turned to face him, giving a joyful whoop and running across the ring to wrap her arms around him. He coughed uncomfortably and she took a step back, brushing a strand of hair away and smiling nervously “Thank you. Thank you so much. I...I think I get it. I mean, I'll have to practice but I think I can do that again.”
He nodded and hopped to the floor “Wrestle how your heart tells you to wrestle. Don't let this school dictate who you are. Make the choice to be who you will be.”
“...Who ARE you Olympia?”
Her question made him freeze in place. Then, he turned around to face her. He stared at her and for a minute she was worried she had offended him. A second later, and the paranoia set in. Oh sure, she knew how to fight. She was also a relatively tiny asian girl alone in a dark gym with a mysterious man who could be some kind of masked axe murderer. She sighed and tried to elaborate “I know you're a good person. I know you have access to this gym. I know you're...you're an artist in the ring. That doesn't do it though, we're friends right? So who ARE you?”
“I am Olympia.”
The answer was infuriating. Simple to say, and yet it brought a dozen stunningly complicated questions to her mind. She climbed through the ropes and dropped to the floor “I mean when you're not wrestling. I mean...I mean the real you. I mean behind the mask.”
She stood in front of him and stared into his eyes. He looked uncertain at first, but then spoke in a confident tone “I am still Olympia. There hasn't been a behind the mask in many, many years.”
“Why stay here?” Sophie asked, throwing her hands up helplessly “I never hear about you on shows. I never see you wrestle. I just see you train. Constantly. Over and over again. Why? What's the point? What are you doing?”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her expression. Then, he walked away from her and over to the VCR. He bent down to dig through a gym bag she hadn't noticed and came up with a flyer. The masked man walked back over and handed it to her. She unfolded it, seeing a wrinkled up piece of paper advertising New York City Championship Wrestling.
“I'm getting ready to fly again, Little Bird.”
With that he walked away from her. His silver mask vanished into the shadows while she watched him leave, uncertain of what to say. She would search for him a few minutes later and be unable to find him. How he made it out of the building without her seeing him would be anyone's guess. She would be sure to be at NYCCW though, to see if he would wrestle there. To see who Olympia really was.