July 10, 2018
Candi Bratton is sitting down with her lawyer as they look over the papers that were drawn up to allow her to buy a bar. It might not have been the one she originally wanted, but it’s something for her to call her own. This living life on her own shit is actually better than she originally had thought it would be. Her youngest daughter Lara was correct. It was time for her to cut the strings and start living her life. She’s got her own place states away from her kids. She’s about to buy a bar, which is something she has always considered doing especially when she considered winding down her career.
Maybe it is about that time. The scars, the aches, the pains.
Wrestling is rather therapeutic for her and she knows it. She’s not going anywhere. She’s not going to retire until she’s a hundred percent certain.
What she has done, is kept her mouth shut about this new deal. Rumor most certainly led to the Shieldmaidens finding out about her potential purchase and this time she kept everything quiet.
Her lawyer slide the papers over to her, placing a nice little sticky arrow on all the spots she’s supposed to sign and she begins to add her signature to the document.
As she walks out of the office there’s a sense of relief that washes over her as she has sealed the deal. Again, it wasn’t her first choice but it was easily her next best choice and she’ll make due.
And now she can focus one hundred percent on tomorrow’s match.
She climbs into her truck and she considers going to her bar and just enjoying the quiet for a bit before patrons start to enter. But, that isn’t quite what she needs. Instead, she gets on freeway towards Phoenix.
The long drive gives her opportunity to reflect on the importance of this match. Was it more important than the match in which she originally won the championship? In almost every way, yes.
This first title defense would, in fact, dictate how her title reign is perceived. She isn’t typically concerned with the thoughts of others but there is a history here. Her first World Title run.
She defeated the long standing Battling Ring Angels World Champion. Many before her had tried and failed to defeat that champion and yet in Candi’s first opportunity for a title, she was able to defeat that champion.
And then a short time later, her first defense. She was defeated. She never complained about that loss because she lost fair and square by a much better wrestler. No doubt. But now, she’s under the same sort of circumstance.
Of course, if she manages to retain that would prove everything to her that she needed to know.
If not, then perhaps – just perhaps, she should consider retirement. Maybe it would be time.
She smirks, shaking her head. Nope. Not happening. She’s going to beat Scrubs and keep her damn title and that was all there is to that.
She reaches for the radio, flipping it on. How the fuck had she never heard of satellite radio before?
She pulls into the valet area of the Palomar Hotel and steps out of her truck as she reaches into the back for her bag and Candi Bratton hands the keys off to the valet as she carries her bag into the hotel, despite the offer from a bellboy to carry it for her. She pays for her room, gets her key and soon is settled in her room. It’s the night before the Rise and she suddenly has the urge to drink.
What the fuck, right?
She makes her way down to the bar of the hotel and slides into a vacant stool and orders a beer. The bartender slides it over to her and she takes a long drink.
“Aren’t you Candi Bratton?”
Someone slides into the seat next to her as she gives him a sideways glance. “Yeah, so?”
The man and his buddy take up the seats next to her and he grins, “I have tickets for the show tomorrow. Can you sign them?”
She gives a shrug and takes the offered pen and signs the back of those tickets before sliding them back.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Give Skrabz hell tomorrow.”
She reaches for her beer, “I sure will. Enjoy the show.”
Later that evening, Candi turns on her phone to record her promo.
“So, tomorrow is the Rise in Phoenix and it’s going to be you and me Scrubs. The main event. People are gonna turn in to see Stanton and Forget, Hamilton and Carbajal, the HCW vs. the MHW. Hell, someone might event tune in to see Adams and Mitchell going at it in a supposed dream match. All of that may be true, but what they’re really tuning in to see is the feature match, the main event, the drawing attraction. You and me.
“Everyone is going to get their time to shine but at some point during the night, someone’s getting up to pee, get something to eat or drink or maybe even a smoke break. What I can guarantee you, is that no one is going to do what when we hit that ring.”
Candi glances off to the side for a second and then turns back. She isn’t her normal agitated self, she’s acting very calm.
“I’m not going to scream and yell about how you don’t have a chance in hell in beating me, because on any given night some motherfucker can beat another motherfucker. And it might be that I’m a little drunk right now, but I say you have a chance of winning this match. As small as it may be, that chance is there and to be honest — when it’s all said and done, you were probably the right guy for this spot.”
“And so it will be. I hope you’re one hundred percent prepared because if you give me even one percent, I’m going to take it and I’m going to walk out of Phoenix still the Mile High Wrestling Champion. You see, I hear the rumors, the rumbling. I doubt anyone in that locker room gives me a chance in hell of retaining this championship. But those are the same motherfuckers who didn’t give me a chance in hell of winning this championship in the first place. They all counted me out from day one. So, I not only have to retain this championship, I am going to prove to every motherfucker out there that I deserve to be the Mile High Champion.
“One way or another, we’ll find out tomorrow.”
Candi reaches down and clicks off the recording.