Your Coffin A Dollhouse

[Ryan LeCavalier]

Your Coffin A Dollhouse

There is something fascinating about wrestling that draws Ryan in, and draws her back every time: the bright lights, the loud crowds, every fiber of the mat, and the promise of competition (something she feels is exclusively reserved for top notched wrestlers). It’s hard to explain, really, to feel the adrenaline rush one gets from the ring, to hear (and feel) the sound of the jubilation of the crowd – to be surrounded by diehard fans who pay their hard earned money to see FGA Wrestling, who often dipped into chiming in online, shelling out their opinions about the product, her person or wrestling; alternatively even someone else entirely.

Ryan’s greatest delight is and always will be the outbreak of an actual fight: the rise of volume in the voices (most often men’s, though it’s even more amusing when there’s a woman involved, to create an imbalance in proportions), the contortion of their faces, and then – the first blow. She’s learned so much, just watching: the way noses crack when they are broken, the patterns of blood that spills out – or how to tell an experienced fighter from an amateur.

The play of muscles holds a certain enjoyment, of course, but Ryan’s focus lies more on the path of destruction those fights always leave. She examines the aftermath, sometimes, when no one is looking, of the puddles of blood, died into dark patches on the ground, or the splinters that stick out of broken chairs. She has memorized the colors –that are mirrored in bruises that turn purple with coagulated blood.

But she is always careful to stay on the sidelines, too worried that she might have to apply herself (and she’s far too fond of the soft lines of her profile to have them destroyed while destroying someone else’s), until she’s forced to fight within an MMA Cage, she’s like a civilian watching war hungry warriors. That’s where wrestling comes in, society’s construct always consisted of timing, in a wrestling ring that fondness of wanting to punch someone in the face was legal and it was effortless. In the ring, she found a home to act accordingly to well-hidden desires.

(In reality one’s bloodlust doesn’t fade with time: sharpens, instead, until even her own twitching hands are reduced to a labyrinth of tantalizing veins, and the aortic circuit takes on a certain devotional appeal,)

There’s something about wasted potential that makes her skin crawl—the way the echoes over the greatest of matches, running over like water. It’s the opportunity that so many spectacular moments have the likelihood of happening; It’s what eats at her most. Last week was an illustration of this when she fought Savannah Taylor – her every instinct flared to attention: an adrenaline rush that almost turned into a high. Within those very short ten minutes she felt as if everything was right with the world, it traveled down her spine, culling passion from action on display. In the end she was left unsatisfied – Taylor couldn’t repeat her magical Above and Beyond performance.

A sore winner is she.

(In the ring she’s always been: hostile and oppressive.)

Not to mention she’s always been her own worst critic.

Now she’s pitted against Annie Zellor (or “The Zealot” if you asked her.)

Ryan refused to acknowledge that that she was certainly years younger than her and already built up a cult following far more massive than hers in FGA alone. However these were not normal times, wrestlers where always ever going to evolve over time. Still, her hues fixated on the task at hand as if it were a figurative object.  She looked directly  to Zellor as if she were a fugitive and idly she wondered if this would be a brief encounter…

which is all to say, she’s as focused as ever whenever she enters the ring:

She deduced ahead of time that Zellor was a tough task – she was the Mid-Atlantic Legacy Champion for a reason – a championship “established in the roots of the company.” It was a known starting point for most wrestlers on the roster; it was almost encouraged that the belt should be any wrestler’s first stop in ‘forging’ a legacy worth remembering. And so any move she makes has to be calculated, any false moves and she walks right into Zellor’s trap. Safe to say she already possessed a champion’s mentality and she was only just looking for the right fight.

“Are any wrestlers within FGA you see as a dream opponent?” he asks, prying for an answer, “I know you must get this question a lot, but inquiring minds want to know.”

Inquiring minds want to know?

Instinctively, she wants avoid the question entirely. She can’t though, because she’s on a podcast (where questions like this were asked all the time; sometimes more than others it was easier to lie on the fly. However, these questions only came with the territory of becoming a known ticket in professional wrestling); knowingly it somewhat kill her to an extent. She wants to throw a hundred different answers his way; as a wrestler she’s learned how to stave off negativity as quick as wrestling out of a submission hold, her views don’t always have to reflect her actual opinion.

“I don’t have a single wrestler I fawn over. I’m always focused on taking my career one match at a time; if that makes any sense. I always try to remain in the moment. It’s the best way to push forward, hard to have fantasy match-ups in mind when you’re trying to prove you’re one of the best.” she had to pause; the heaviness of her words the honest truth. She shook of her answer by tucking her hair behind her ear.

Ryan was used to routine. She found comfort in the predictable, the regular, and one of her favorite parts was coming onto shows or doing interviews to promote herself and the company she wrestled for. Somewhere along the line, everything had become old hat – she’d been at this for ten years already – it was weird going from rookie to veteran in a blink of an eye.

“Ryan, your first-hand introduction to Frontier Grappling Arts was Dynamic Duos. After you and Salem Cartier exited early from FGA’s Dynamic Duos. Many die-hard fans thought it would be your first and last appearance in the company.” indicated Jamie firmly, “However, you officially joined the FGA ranks. You’ve had a couple of matches under your belt now. How adjusted to it do you feel? What are your thoughts about your standing in the company?”

“I like to think that I have a good relationship within FGA, though, I haven’t done anything noteworthy.” Ryan revealed, “Honestly I like to adjust as I go along, as far as I stand I’ve got time to prove myself.” she said automatically, biting her lower lip.

He nodded, “Most of the wrestlers that we’ve had on the show in the past have stated that FGA is a place you go to test your skill and prowess.” he gave Ryan a look as if he was fishing for a reaction, she listened contently. “You’ve mentioned before you joined FGA to obtain a fresh start. Out of all the promotions, why did you believe FGA was the place for that fresh start?”

“It’s just the place to be,” Ryan insisted, her lips pulled into a smirk then. “Listen, sometimes you just know.” she nodded then, “I was in a really bad situation months ago. I thought I was doing the right thing by wrestling over in the UK, if I had known the company was going under—I wouldn’t have signed on the dotted line,” she wasn’t sure if she should’ve said that, but she hated leaving out details as vague as that was. “I needed the chance to reinvent myself and FGA allows for me to do whatever I see fit, within the rules of course in getting the job done.”

Jamie was smooth continuing his hard hitting line of questioning, “Ryan, most onlookers would classify you’re in-ring style as unique, to say the least. In your opinion, how does your style differ from the rest of the wrestlers in FGA?”

The question made Ryan think for a second as she pursued her lips. “I like to think of myself as a Rubix Cube. I can trade holds with just about anybody – as a woman, I think that’s pretty empowering as a wrestler. I can go with just about anybody in the world, male or female.” She’s all smiles as she looked back towards Jamie, “I know it’s a boring style to most, but it’s one that I’ve developed over the past two years. I feel like I’ve married the best of both worlds into my style striking and wrestling. I’ve frustrated many a challenger as of late,”

Now Jamie began to smirk while nodding, “We’re almost reached the end of our program – so, I’ll read a tweet from one of our thousands of listeners – is that alright?”

Ryan nodded, “Why not?”

“traderboyjoe sent us a question to ask you. He says, “Yo’ LeCavalier, how the hell do you move around the ring with dem chicken-legs of yours? You ain’t heard of squats?” Jamie feared for his life and then added, “You can respond to that question if you’d like. Or, we can skip it; whichever you’d prefer.”

She began to laugh, “Skipped.” She slowly came to a giggle, “I only deal with this on the internet, it's more fun that way...”

“I was going to ask you another question, but we’re out of time. Anyway, I’m Jamie Kemper – this has been the Ten Count Podcast.” Jamie closed out the show, “If you’re looking to see Ryan wrestle – she’ll be live in action with Frontier Grappling Arts this weekend in Broomfield, Colorado at the 1st Bank Center for Vertigo tickets are still available.”

It was rare for Ryan to get a day off. Usually, even on her days off she found herself going to ‘the office’, just to see what was going on. Either that or she’d request an entire weekend off to recharge (which was rare.) But on this particular Evening, Ryan had the day all to herself. Usually she would use such a day to recharge, or even to catch up on her hobbies. She chose to climb into bed with her MacBook Air, intending to record her thoughts down from just the week: most of them ranged from life in general, different wrestling matches she’s had, or random situations that became idle thoughts

“Are you upstairs?”

“I’m in here.” she announced, her words were focused as fingers kept at the keys as she conveyed her thoughts. She noticed Nina’s presents in the room instantly, however, she didn’t care to look up right then.

Nina noticed Ryan was dressed to lounged around, her legs were folded Indian-style, she wore a large sweater (that was definitely Nina’s) and a pair of very form fitting boy shorts; that were uncharacteristic of her. She didn’t help matters with her large framed glasses adorned on her face, or even the fact that her hair was in a bun.

“How long have you been here?” Nina questions, while traveling toward the bed witnessing the display.

Ryan eye’s finally broke away from her laptop, “Today was my day off, remember. I decided climb into bed with the full intention of making a day of it, lounging around.” she patted Nina’s side of the bed, suggesting she climb into it.

It’s not like Nina needed to be told twice, once the offer was out there she slipped into bed dropping her purse onto the floor sliding underneath the covers cuddling to her wife, “What are you writing?”

“Just getting my thoughts down,” Ryan said running her hand down the front of Nina’s leg, “I’ve been keeping a journal for the past few months. Took my therapists advice; he’s always on about trying not to micromanage every little thing,”

Nina only nodded, “So what’s in it?” she tried to look towards the screen.

Ryan closed the laptop on reaction, “Top Secret, for now.”

Nina puffed her cheeks, “We’ve only been married a little over two months, and you’re already keeping secrets?”

Ryan sighed out of rebellion, “It’s nothing like that, and you know it.”

She watched her wife kiss her neck and resting against her shoulder, “What is it then?”

“Keeping Secrets – selectively.” she retorted, jokingly of course. Ryan Lecavalier joking, it’s a completely new concept. Surely Nina must know that too. After all she’d been the one to wave a proverbial crossbow around in Ryan’s face and trying to get a laugh in return.

Glancing up at Ryan, she smirked a sad sort of smirk. “We’ll see if you’re all jokes when I leave you while taking all your money. Remember Mrs. Lecavalier, you didn’t sign any prenuptial agreement.”

“My therapist also said you’d do something like that; it’s one of four signs we’re incompatible or so he says.”

There was a brief pause before Ryan’s toned change, “Hey Nin, we need to talk…”

“What do we have to talk about?”

Her thoughts were on the future at the moment. “The fact we’re house hunting, we’re both working a lot, and we haven’t gotten a chance to have our honeymoon—” Ryan looked down at Nina, whose eyes were closing as she cuddled for security.

“Mmmm…Keep talking.” her voice was instantly sheepish, oblivious was Ryan.

And then, She was sleep. Ryan took notice mid-sentence.

Returning to the laptop with a single hand, Ryan finds herself pulling up the tab for her browser, there’s a large image of a dollhouse within her virtual shopping cart purchases. Something about the dollhouse brings about a small smile across her face as she closes the laptop, once more.

There is an immeasurable amount of distance in that moment of ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too’. A universe of atoms and particles and galaxies swirling in the depths of an oxygen molecule. Civilizations rise and live and fall in less time, conquerors commit genocides and heavenly bodies smash together. Ryan had read once in one of her romance novels, that she tucked away once she got into a real relationship. It must’ve rang true, because even now with her wife asleep next to her she caught herself saying it.

‘I love you.’ she whispered,

‘Good talk.’

“So, this all started with my first glimpse at what FGA ‘had to offer’ during Dynamic Duos.”

Ryan opened as the camera was trained on her, she was sitting in her living room, there was a giant gift box in front of her legs. Her palm were flat against its white appearance, and there was a giant pink bow stuck against its side.

“While I teamed with Salem, I honestly thought we would’ve gone farther than we did. I think we banked too much on our previous experiences, teaming against each other. I kind of convinced myself that was the same synergy displayed by an actual tag team. I was wrong. For the most part, I was hooked I couldn’t get enough, and I ended up signing with Frontier Grappling Arts. Most of you already know my story…it’s been quiet thus far, I wrestled  Harter and lost, somehow I was able to pick a win against Rick Young…after that, I robbed Savannah Taylor of any momentum she had of bringing to her scuffle for the contendership for Fujiko’s Pride Title.”

“…I beat a contender. Someone who’s in line for the Pride Championship and this week? That risk what’s met with reward alright, I’m taking on “Hard Knox” herself in Annie Zellor.” she sighed, “What a shame that is; I was forward to actually taking it easy this week. Now I’ve been tasked with beating a champion? Everybody knows that the first chance at championship gold goes through whoever is in possession of the Mid-Atlantic Legacy championship belt.” she drummed her finger on top of the box, “The key word there is ‘legacy’ currently Annie Zellor is trying to pave her own path to greatness. As wrestlers we often are supposed to do things that are expected of us, and in my current predicament I’m ‘supposed to aspire to be’ Mid-Atlantic Legacy Champion.”

She tilted her head for a second, conveying her point.

“I guess I should see this match as some sort of gift. It’s a chance to succeed where others have failed. It’s a single moment where I’m expected to strive for something; where I can long for something with much more… lineage.” her words trailed for a second, echoing importance.

“Speaking of gifts I got you something, Annie. It would’ve been rude of me to buy you a coffin, so I got you the next best thing.” Ryan revealed a dollhouse already unpacked from behind the box, “You see this dollhouse is a metaphor for everything you’ve witnessed, been part of, and achieved in FGA thus far. It’s like watching a bad teen movie.” Ryan’s eyes shifted from the camera, “You’re frantically searching for something as a desperate attempt to make someone pay some sort of attention to you. Well, it worked, but don't think that I don't see it for exactly what it is. You can hit people with championships to your heart’s desire and you throw as many tantrums on Afterburn, but in the end, it means nothing.”

Her eyes shifted down, opening the front door of the dollhouse checking if it worked.

“Because for you being Mid-Atlantic Legacy champion isn’t a priority – you’re just as bad as your predecessors. We all know how that turned out, don’t we? They spilled their blood, sweat, and tears in an attempt to find some sort of resolution. Instead, what did they find? Absolutely nothing, if you want to get technical. Every single bad thing that Dom has done as champion was reflected onto Izzy with her winning the championship; so what about you when you won it from her? I know exactly what happened. You inherited it all – his and hers.”

“I’m not a caricature of myself like you are, or anything less than real.” She flipped open the dollhouse setting it on top of the box.

“If I’ve ever had to question anyone’s mentality right now is as good a time as any. I didn’t ask for any favors being given this match. In fact, I clearly remember saying that I was here for the challenge, nothing has changed since then.” she paused slightly, “Hopefully I haven’t besmirched anyone’s legacy by talking down anything that might come of this – what I’m getting at is that I could care less about both this match or your Mid-Atlantic Legacy Championship in the same breath. What do I have to truly gain from beating you? There isn’t a single thing that I can think of that comes to mind.”

“I think it’s from a lack of creativity and overall enthusiasm. I get that way sometimes, when I’ve mentally classified someone as trash subconsciously; It’s funny how I’m the one always looking for a challenge, yet you’re the one slinging titles like you’re Mark McGuire, not to mention all the while going through the early signs of schizophrenic episodes, or maybe it’s panic attacks? I hate beating a dead horse, again, where is the interest in that?”

She smirked slightly, "Oh, right there is none. I’m terribly sorry – it’s just that you’re so closed to mirroring the actions of Harter, and therefore, it’s hard to see any humor in this.”

“Am I actually allowed to say that I’m better than you? I just can’t bring myself to say it – imagine that. There’s no substance there; and where there’s no substance, there’s no key elements in having this match. If you’re wondering how I’ll show up to Vertigo this week, it’s simple. I plan on coming into Bloomfield, Colorado with every intention of winning this impending war. Only one thing is for certain, I have what it takes to put you away. Annie, for all intensive purposes it’s you who needs to step up. For every single moment that I remain in that ring, as  every second of time limit ticks away, you’re being proven to be a lackluster champion.”

“I’ve already run every scenario a few hundred times. But go ahead, vilify me; you’re already going to anyway, since it’s so much easier than admitting that you screwed up and lost me. A victory here is well defined. If anything, it’ll get me one step closer to what I really want: To be remembered.” she reaches forward closing the dollhouse with both hands.

“Why don’t you make this dollhouse your coffin? I hear it’s got ample room for dashed hopes and tarnished championship reigns. I’ll buy you a white picket fence, promise. ”

The camera fades out.