Diamonds Aren't Forever

[Ryan LeCavalier]

Diamonds aren’t forever

She can’t pinpoint the exact moment she became so purposefully aloof, the moment when her heart became cold and unwelcoming. Before the rise, before the fall, before her drive and determination became a mere figment of her imagination, she’s almost certain that she has and always will be a credible wrestler. Faint memories of holding championships, of acting as a ray of light litter her memories. Moments of utter pride cascaded as she whenever she was considered an example, a role model. The bright flash and glow of cameras trained on her face, the fortitude well-placed at the balls of her heels whenever she stood for something. Shoulders were always square, raised above the ground floating with a world of opportunity before them.

The memories come and go in waves, taking her beneath a tide weak enough to weather, but strong enough to make her wonder just how much longer she is to fight. She’s half her father, but half her mother, too. Like the wayward wanderer, she goes for days at a time. A bandage here and a stitch there. Eyes red, back sore, knees weak. There’s never enough time to heal, never enough time to help herself, she has to sustain what’s never foreign to her. It never seems to be enough. She wishes she could be more like her mother; soft, kind, gentle. Even as the world grows colder, her mother’s resolve to take care of everyone - even at the cost of her own health - grows stronger. But at what cost? To care for someone deeper than surface level meant to risk your own sanity when war and battle inevitably took them away. She wouldn’t – couldn’t (until Nina) - allow herself to go through the motions for anyone other than her family.

Wrestling: Ryan’s guiding light through the darkness, the proverbial anchor that ties her to shore. Without wrestling, Ryan’s is certain she couldn’t survive. While she is thirty-two years old and living out something that became a passion, turned to a full blown fantasy (mainly drifting through life in a wine induced numbness), her wife’s arms were always home; her ample frame a soft place to land.

There’s always a soft place to land. Something she needs now more than ever. Some nights were spent with wine and chocolate on the floor of her newfound home with competition knocking at her door; it didn’t exactly cut it. Some nights like the ones spent reflecting on her matches, when she’s undressing and allowing the adrenaline of it all to come down; she needs someone who’s willing to rub her tired aching shoulders and tell her everything will be okay, even if neither of them believe any of it will.

One look at Ryan’s current situation you’d assumed that she’d just about had it under control – you’d be surprised to realize that she didn’t. Chris Madison: was a very challenging individual. You wouldn’t expect him to be adding to the ire or frustration she already held for her employer; at least not after the whole crowning of a new World Champion in Cordy Stevenson – keep in mind she did deserve it – however, the timing was a bit off. If you would have told her that single fact would be the least of her worries – she would’ve laughed right into your face firm and directly.

Now here they were on the eve of some great battle; from certain perspective, onlookers were hoping for an enticed war.

‘An enticed war’

Is the strongest form of warfare.

It was situations like these – where she could grit her teeth, while staring someone straight in the face daring someone to hit her. Where she had a possibility of being busted open did she smile and rise to the occasion. Adversity has always been her ‘thing.’ She enjoys meeting it head on. That was Madison in his purest form, the toughest test of her lengthy career. She needed to overcome him…

No she will overcome him.

6:00 A.M.

In the room of to omen, the sky grows a confusing and moody indigo. Frustration casts itself around the room, like fading dusk; it’s lightly orphaned of any warmth. Said warmth was reserved by the light that was barely keeping her awake in their room, without looking over she’s already realized Nina’s gone, though she was kind of enough to let her sleep through at least two of her alarms before she takes her brisk morning jog into daybreak. The air, salt-charged with the dew of the morning, nips at her nose. She shifts, sitting up running her fingers through her hair clad of any clothing minus the band t-shirt she wore.

As she drift on wards, reaching further and further into the solemn mouth of the morning, Ryan feels as though she’s aimless enough to have almost left the world. For a moment, she imagines climbing to the top of a lighthouse and free falling off of it back first: how she could look back in one direction to see the orange glow of houses bobbing in darkness, the distant crackle of firelight and hearths, the tide as she hit it directly as it pulled her into a whole different undercurrent. And in the other direction, a meadow of moonlight: the sea turning like a planet in motion, infinite, rolling, raging.

The usual churn and grind of her thoughts settle, content just to wander the shallow waters of her mental surroundings. She stretches out her legs, swinging them to her bedside. Her shoulders tense and then relax, like spitting amber sparks into darkness. Besides her, the cool side of Nina’s pillow serves as a heavy reminder of her own actions. Ryan reaches for the nightstand beside her, inspecting how the light collects and urges her to collect an item or two from it. She presses against it, using her weight to slowly stumble to her feet. As she rose to her feet she got some sense and wits about, perhaps, or she could just as easily imagine feeling awake enough to function.

Heading towards the mirror in the corner of the room her thoughts start rolling like movies; she had challenged Chris Madison? Yeah, that was a thing. As she looked towards it she attempted to take a depended breath without screaming.

Have the days gotten longer, or is time simply catching up with her?

Yes – on both counts.

In reality she does not sleep, but still she dreams of success. The chance to matter, it’s both a vice and a crippling weakness of hers. Where is she now? Is she safe? She tries to force the image of coming away with the victory from her mind, she’s obsessed. She smiles faintly to herself in the mirror, knowing she needs to go workout.

He doesn’t care about her one bit.

She shouldn’t be surprised. She knows he doesn’t really care.

It stings, anyway.

The vicious cycle continues as she exits the room…

12:00 P.M.

“So how are you holding up?” he says, stirring his beverage in front of him, eyes charged, ferocious relaxed as they talk.

Her focus was sent adrift, her eyes shifted towards her glass of water, and then she answered, “I’m fine, I guess,” she murmured trying to keep everything together. “Given the situation everything’s fine. C’mon, Andrew I’ve dealt with worse.”

He smirked.

“As optimistic as always…”

Look at her, divine and peachy. Tender and fair—something he wants to sink his teeth into, make her drip down his chin till he cuts himself on a harsh pit. Andrew’s always been fond of Ryan since the beginning; he’s been her agent since she returned to professional wrestler, and dove into the world of MMA. And then Ryan married Nina; begrudgingly his hopes were dashed – and yet he retained on as both her Agent and PR person.

She could taste the tension in the room on her tongue. Instead, her breath falls short against his statement, soft and venomous.

“I’m serving a suspension in another company; can’t think anything else other than optimistic.” Ryan retorted, “It’s one of the first times I can remember I’ve violated the sport; I lost myself in a moment of weakness. I can only hope to learn from my mistake.” she mused, bringing her finger tips together as she surveyed the rest of the diner that they decided to patron.

He remembers when his life was like hers:

He used to think he wanted to be an athlete, night-dusted and champagne-spent, spontaneous and free. Alive is the spill of your smile on a blank canvas jaw. Alive is starry-eyed twilight's, counting passersby from the rooftops. Not to mention tons of money and women, fast cars, and mansions. He had all the tools to turn into the next All-American name in the sport of Football on an unprecedented level in the mainstream media.

“We’ll according to Topher they’re ready to settle. They’ve forgiven you, at least from my point-of-view and they’ve got all the intentions of accepting your deal,” he nodded conveying a sense of being her ‘protector’ “I think they just want to get their windshield fix. Also, it was nice move on your part to offer them money – I think that’s a sign of good faith no matter how large the amount is.”

Now he’s the hired help of an athlete.

Ryan sighed, “That’s what I was going for.” Ryan scrolled through news articles on the subject, “Its better letting the rumor mill run out of control, I’ve had some pretty horrible things written about me in the past.”

Andrew didn’t pay the internet any attention when it came to dealing with his client, “Haven’t I told you to stop reading into their propaganda? You’ll get cancer or something you keep reading that stuff,”

There as a slight chuckle out of Andrew, and Ryan couldn’t help herself from laughing either.

“I didn’t know you had your PHD, Andrew.” Ryan rolled her eyes supporting her comment, and then she looked towards the door watching a family of five come into the diner.

“Legal matters set aside; what gives with you and that Madison guy?”

Ryan didn’t break eye contact with the family as the little girl they brought in noticed she was looking at them, and then she waved. “What about him?”

Andrew tilted his head for a second, “You’re going up against him pretty soon aren’t you? We got the finalized papers that you need to sign.” he said while sliding the folder that was beside him the entire time onto the table, he also offered her a pen to finalized matters legibly.

She blew air passed her lips escaping in hopes of showing her anxiety, “Of course..."

Split her,

silver-sheered,

running raw cruelty in the cracks.

And a thought flares recklessly behind the blank mirror of her gaze, not of indifference or ruin or ravishing—

So what?

“This Beat the Clock challenge is interesting; It’s just a match that leads to my intended match at the end of the month.” She said narrowly as she signed on the dotted line, leaning forward she couldn’t help but appear to be a ball of confusion thinking about how hard their beat the clock challenge would be – not to mention having to wrestle Chris Madison so soon at Final Frontier. “Win, lose, or draw I’m going to make sure I leave everything on the canvas against Chris Madison.”

So what if she lost to him at Final Frontier, and so what if she sees him as her toughest challenge to date: wrestling as her sport, she’d live and die by the sword no matter what, the steel—all the things her father left within her as his heir to his throne? What if he knows—what if he beats her—this is going to be a larger piece of the ever changing puzzle of Frontier Grappling Arts.

They say that diamonds are forever – however, I don’t think this is the case. This week I’m taking on one person who highhandedly thinks he’s one of the most untouchable wrestler on the roster. Self-proclaimed or not, that’s a pretty big statement to make when you’ve got so many other people out there scratching and clawing their way towards the top of the Frontier Grappling Arts ladder. As one of many who’ve attempted to climb and haven’t had a single chance to prove themselves, I’ve had to make best of every opportunity I’ve been given – even if it wasn’t a clear cut opportunity – I made it an opportunity.

I mentioned last week how I felt I took Tony Carmine to his limit. Somehow he surpassed his limits, and was the better wrestler. On the other hand I still think that might be my most memorable match in FGA to date. It’ll be something that I’ll be proud to watch more than a few times once it hits a DVD Compilation. Still, it’ll pale in comparison to what’s all but a surefire bet to happen at Final Frontier: Chris Madison and I one-on-one. As a strong a match as it sounds on paper last week he threw down the gauntlet and he and Frankie Morrison devised this Beat the Clock challenge to decide who gets to name the stipulation for our first match against one another.

Obviously I could complain at him drawing Kyle Ohio, however, that doesn’t even matter. Here’s the reason why: I’m confident that I could dust off Danny Diamond in half the amount time it takes Madison to beat Ohio. That’s not to say that Madison’s in for a rough out, but he’s really not focused on the task at hand, nor will he be at Final Frontier. While at face value you Diamond might not look as appealing on the surface, it’s only when you delve deeper into the hidden meaning of our match that you see its brilliance.

Diamond represents perfection (that’s mind boggling I know) but hear me out; what’s the first thing you realize when you gaze at the largest diamond you’ve ever seen in your life? If you’re me, you see everything wrong with professional wrestling today. For starters Diamond’s egotism knows no bounds, and he’s unapologetic for it, needlessly to say that’s his downfall. Just because you can run your mouth about your opponents, post on social media of their fault, and think you’re doing something – when you get into the ring, that’s a whole different story.

Its’ all well and good to be able to sell the masses on how you’re so much better than me, it’s an entirely different story when I’m in the ring ripping you limb from limb. I intend on this being a record-breaking experience for everybody involved (i.e myself, Madison, Morrison, and last but not least Diamond.) For Madison and Morrison they’ll be sitting on their hands like they’re waiting a selection on NCCA’s Selection Sunday as they wonder where exactly will the battle lines be drawn. As for Diamond, he’s legit just here along for the ride—like Ohio, they’re just placeholders for what quite possibly will be dubbed match of the year by obvious standards.

I’m not particularly looking for a fight. I’ve already made up my mind I’m legitimately in there to subdue Diamond before he even gets started, it’ll serve as a warning to Madison that he shouldn’t take me lightly; might as well go as far as submitting him, showing off the MMA background while I’m at it.

Simply put. I’m here to do one thing and one thing only: I’m here to turn a diamond back to coal.

As always, I’ll preface that it won’t be pretty. I have to do whatever it takes to make a statement against Diamond, and further more Chris Madison. As I’ve said in the past, I’m willing to do just about anything for the win. It’s well-known that I don’t know limits. I’m going to ignore them one more time…in hopes of coming one step closer…
At the end of the month I will enter unknown territory.

I’ll navigate the Final Frontier,

And then,

I’ll return a hero.