
Record(W/L/D) 2 / 1 / 0		Next Opponent(s) Mike Van Pelt
{I walk through the door of my hotel room. A large, comfortable bed is displayed in the center of the room. The bed isn't what I'm worried about right now. I walk straight for the bathroom. I enter the bathroom, turning the light on as I do. I head over to the sink and look at myself in the mirror. My mask is ripped from the forehead to the cheek from the fights I had with Amanda Davis and, more importantly, Mike Van Pelt. I reach up and delicately unbutton the back of the mask. I slide it off and look at my face in the mirror. I see a monster...A monster with a trickle of blood slowly gliding down his forehead, to his nose, and eventually, to his chin. I run my fingers across my scarred face. No, these scars were not caused by the match I was in just a few hours before. They were caused by a life full of bad decisions and wrong turns. No one has ever seen my face, except Reina and Gunthor. I know Reina can accept me even though I look like this, but even though Gunthor tries to accept it, he cannot. I don't blame him though. He's a loyal friend, who deserves more than being my training partner. I've tried many times to convince him to join the OWF, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. I turn the water on and put the plug into the drain of the sink. I walk over to a small closet and open the door. I grab a wash cloth and a hand-towel out of the closet before I close the door back. I walk back to the sink and shut off the water. I dip the wash cloth into the sink, just barely dampening it. I wring out the cloth before placing it on my face. Two different feelings kick in at the same time. Pain, caused by the feeling of the cloth against my open wound on my forehead. Satisfaction, caused by the cool cloth against my still-burning face. I gently rub the cloth around on my face, washing off the dried blood as best as I can. I reach to a drawer near the left side of the sink. I pull out a butterfly-bandage and gently apply it to the open cut. I pull the plug out of the drain and place it near the faucet, allowing the water to drain out. I grab my mask and very gently slide it back on. I button the back and return to the "Living Room" portion of the hotel room. I reach for my gym bag and pull out a bottle of metal-wax and a small waxing-cloth. I pour some of the wax onto the cloth and reach for my Cruiserweight Title...which I just cannot find. I look around, confused, for a moment before I remember that I had lost it to that cheating bitch, Amanda Davis. The actions that had followed the match and the declaration of my match against Mike Van pelt in the upcoming week had taken my mind off of the lost title. Damn...I lost the OWF Cruiserweight Title...Fuck...I just received my first loss here in the OWF. What a bad fucking day! There's no way it could get worse...Could it? Yes, it could...My phone rings. I pick the phone up, out of the gym bag. I look at the caller I.D., expecting Reina or Gunthor to be calling. Or even The Higher Force. The answer is none of the above. It is my mother. What could she possibly want? I haven't spoken with her or my father for five years. She doesn't even know that I wrestle! How the hell did they even get my number? I let the phone ring a few times before I reluctantly answer.} -Dios-: Hello? -Mother-: Dominique, it's your mother...I have some bad news...It's about your brother Alejandro. -Dios-: Ooh God...What did he do now? Caught with pot again? Stole some more motorcycles? -Mother-: No, Dommie...He was pulled over by the police for speeding... -Dios-: Another speeding ticket? Jesus Christ! -Mother-: No, mi hijo...He had two bags of crystal meth with him...He swallowed them to keep the police from finding them...One of the bags busted and he's not doing very well... {Wow...Alejandro had always been big on drugs and gang-related stuff like that, but he had never gotten hurt, other than a few bruises and cuts from fights. He had never been shot at. Never had a knife pulled on him. Never had anything to do with that...At least that is what he told me and my family. I never thought that this would happen. He was always so careful. Why the hell did he have to be such a dumbass? Why couldn't he just be a guitarist like my father...Or a land-title executive like my mother? What caused him to stray from the pack?} -Dios-: Is he okay? -Mother-: Right now, yes...The two bags were different sizes...The smaller one busted. The hospital gave him drugs to counterbalance all of the meth in his system...He's just really drowsy and pretty much knocked out right now...But if that other bag busts...He could die. The doctors say that they'll have the emergency surgery room waiting just in case. There is a fifty/fifty chance of the doctors being able to save him even if the big bag ruptures...So right now, he's not out of the woods yet. -Dios-: Well, at least they have him stabilized...Do you want me to come down there, mother? -Mother-: No, mi hijo...Stay there and continue your career. -Dios-: Mother, the dry-wall business isn't doing good for me right now...I can come. {I had told my mother that I was going into the drywall business five years ago to keep her from worrying about me.} -Mother-: Don't lie to your mother, Dominique. Do you think that Mexico City doesn't get OWF Wrestling? I even saw your debut match against those Plague and Sangre people. -Dios-: I am sorry for lying to you, mother...I just didn't want to upset you...I know how you worried about me when I went to that wrestling camp. -Mother-: Let me worry, Dominique. It's my job to worry. It's your job to get out there and entertain those OWF fans. You make your father and me proud every time we see you on television. I will stay here and look after Alejandro with your father. But please do one thing for me? -Dios-: Of course, mother. -Mother-: Call me more. I miss talking to my baby boy. -Dios-: Yes, mother. I will call a lot more often. -Mother-: Good...Now, I must go attend to Alejandro...Goodbye, Dominique. -Dios-: Goodbye, mother. {I flip my phone closed and sit on the bed for a few minutes. I let all that just happened sink in. My mother calling me after five years of silence...My brother, laying in a hospital, his life in the balance of a bag of meth...Knowing that my wrestling makes my parents proud. Those three things, along with my experiences from earlier in the night seems to have an effect on me. I feel sadness for the first time since...I don't know when. I feel another trickle of blood on my cheek. I wipe it away and look at my hand, expecting it to be red from the blood. It is not. It is clear...A tear...}