Becoming A Wrestler

If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!

Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12

___________________________

Sandro didn't back down, his voice rising. "You keep calling me 'kid,' but after Saturday, you're going to call me 'champ.'"

Dusty held up his hands, signaling for a break. "Alright, that's the fire I wanted to see. Take five, then we'll run it again from a different angle."

As Sandro and Joe stepped away, the room buzzed with energy. The production staff exchanged nods of approval, and even Marty cracked a rare smile. Dusty walked over to the two men, clapping them both on the shoulders.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. You're making people care, and that's what sells tickets. Keep that fire going, and Saturday's gonna be one hell of a show."

Sandro grabbed a bottle of water, taking a long sip before glancing at Joe. "Not bad, champ. You almost made me believe you're not scared."

Joe smirked. "Scared? Of you? Please. The only thing I'm worried about is how long it's gonna take to shut you up."

They both laughed, the tension momentarily easing. But as they returned to the set for the next take, the rivalry was back on full display.

The rest of the day was spent fine tuning the promo, with Dusty and Steve guiding them through each scene. By the time they wrapped, everyone in the room knew they had something special. The promo wasn't just a marketing tool, it was a statement.

As Sandro and Joe left the studio, they shared a quiet moment outside, the weight of the upcoming match hanging between them.

"You ready for this?" Sandro asked, his voice low.

Joe nodded. "Born ready. You?"

Sandro smirked. "More than you know."

With that, they parted ways, each man heading off to prepare for the fight of their lives. Saturday wasn't just another match, it was a defining moment for both of them.

Returning home from the studio, Sandro tossed his car keys onto the living room table, the faint clink echoing through his quiet apartment. He shrugged off his jacket and headed to the kitchen, pouring himself a tall glass of cold water.

Leaning against the counter, he stared out the large window that framed the bustling area below his apartment. The soft hum of the city at night gave him a strange sense of calm, but his mind was anything but quiet.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. It wasn't just any match for him, it was his first shot at a heavyweight title. The thought filled him with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. This was a moment most wrestlers only dreamed of, and here he was, standing on the cusp of history.

At just 19 years old, he was already in the spotlight, and if he could pull off the win, he'd become the youngest champion in WWE history as FCW was part of FCW as its developmental brand.

Randy Orton was the youngest champion recorded in WWE history, winning a world title at the age of 24, but Sandro's time might be now and if he win, he would replace Randy Orton and etched in WWE history, if it was acknowledged by Vince.

Still, there was one nagging thought in the back of his mind, that is he didn't know if he was actually going to win. Dusty and Steve hadn't told him or Joe who was going over, leaving the result a mystery.

It was unconventional, but it added an air of unpredictability that only heightened the stakes. For Sandro, just having the chance to compete at this level was incredible. Winning, though? That would change everything.

The days leading up to Saturday seemed to crawl by and fly past all at once. Sandro spent his mornings in the gym, pushing himself harder than ever, and his evenings studying footage of Joe's matches.

He knew Joe's strengths, his technical prowess, his brutal submission holds, his uncanny ability to adapt in the ring. But Sandro also knew his own determination and creativity could be the edge he needed to keep up with Joe and create a great performance in the ring.

Midweek, the promotional video they had shot at the studio went live. It hit every platform FCW put on across Orlando even cities near Orlando: television, YouTube, social media, and even physical billboards in key wrestling markets.

The video was electric, showcasing the raw intensity of Sandro and Joe's rivalry. It juxtaposed their words with dramatic in-ring highlights, slow-motion shots of their standoffs, and clips of the crowd's reactions during their previous encounters. The tagline hit like a thunderclap: "No Holds Barred. No Excuses. Only One Will Survive. Still Or New?"

Within hours, the internet exploded. Twitter was ablaze with fans dissecting every moment of the promo. The FCW Official Forum lit up with threads speculating on the match's outcome.

Some fans were firmly Team Sandro, calling him the future of wrestling and rallying behind his underdog story. Others were diehard Joe supporters, betting on the reigning champ's experience and unmatched toughness. Heated debates broke out, with one post even jokingly suggesting a "civil war" inside FCW fanbases.

Sandro scrolled through his phone one evening, a small grin tugging at his lips as he read the comments.

@WrestlingFanatic88: "If Sandro wins, it'll be the biggest upset in FCW history. Kid's got talent, but Joe's a monster and had the experience alongside achievements to back him up."

@Sandro4Champ: "Are you kidding? Sandro's been killing it lately. Joe's reign ends on Saturday. This is the time of Sandro's Era"

@NoHoldsJoe: "Joe is walking out with that belt. No way a 19-year-old rookie, not even hit one year in the business, dethrones the champ in his prime."

The support and skepticism didn't faze him. If anything, it fueled him. Sandro had always been the type to thrive when people doubted him. Every time someone told him he wasn't ready, he proved them wrong. Saturday would be no different.

By Thursday, the hype was reaching a fever pitch. Sandro attended a brief media appearance alongside Joe, with Dusty moderating. The reporters threw questions at them, trying to stir the pot and get an insight into their game plans.

"Joe, how do you feel about facing someone as young and hungry as Sandro? Do you think he has what it takes to dethrone you?"

Joe leaned into the microphone, his trademark smirk in place. "Look, Sandro's good. I'll give him that. But being good isn't enough when you're in the ring with someone like me. Saturday, he's gonna find out what it means to face the best in FCW and even the business."

The room turned to Sandro, who didn't flinch under the spotlight. "Joe can talk all he wants about being the best, but every reign has to end sometime. Saturday, I'm not just taking the title, I'm proving I belong at the top."

Meanwhile, Dusty couldn't hide his grin as he sat between the two men. These two were selling the match without even trying.

Friday night, Sandro found himself sitting on his apartment balcony, the cool breeze brushing against his face. He sipped on a protein shake, trying to calm his nerves.

The city lights glittered below him, but his thoughts were on the arena near FCW Headquarter that would host tomorrow's pay per view. He pictured the roaring crowd, the bright lights, and the energy that would pulsate through the building as he and Joe went to war.

He glanced at his phone, tempted to rewatch the promo for the hundredth time. Instead, he opened a text thread with his dad, Jack.

Sandro: "Big match tomorrow. Wish me luck. Say hi to Mom from me also."

A few moments later, the screen lit up with a reply.

Jack: "Luck? You don't need it. Go show them why you're my son. Proud of you. Mom also says hi." Sandro smiled, pocketing his phone. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Saturday arrived, and the air was electric. Sandro woke up early, heading to the arena to get a feel for the space. The ring crew was already set up, and the production team was running final checks. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride seeing several posters of himself and Joe plastered around the venue. This was it.

As the hours ticked by, Sandro went through his pre-match routine, stretching, visualizing the match, and listening to music to calm his nerves. Joe arrived later, giving Sandro a nod as they passed each other in the locker room.

There were no words exchanged, just a mutual understanding that tonight would be unforgettable. By the time the show began, the arena was packed. The crowd was electric, their energy palpable even backstage.

The opening match of the night set the tone for what would be an unforgettable event. The crowd roared with anticipation as the lights dimmed and the entrance music for April blared through the arena. A surge of cheers erupted as April Lee, clad in her signature plaid shorts and hoodie, stepped onto the stage, her energy infectious.

She wasn't alone, Davina Rose, her ever-supportive ally, flanked her side. Davina's bright smile and encouraging words visibly lifted April's spirits as they made their way down the ramp, high-fiving fans along the way.

April paused at the foot of the ramp, glancing back at Davina, who gave her a quick hug and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was, it worked, April climbed the ring steps with renewed confidence, raising her fist to the crowd, who responded with a thunderous cheer.

Moments later, the mood shifted as Nicole Bella's entrance music hit. The cheers turned to a mix of boos and scattered applause as the reigning FCW Divas Champion stepped onto the stage, her twin sister Brianna by her side and her imposing bodyguard Rebecca Knox trailing behind. Nicole exuded confidence, her championship belt gleaming under the spotlight.

With a smirk, Nicole strutted down the ramp, basking in the mixed reaction. Brianna followed closely, clapping sarcastically at the fans who booed her sister, while Rebecca Knox, ever the silent enforcer, glared at anyone who dared get too close.

The trio was an intimidating sight, and the contrast between the challenger's humble energy and the champion's cocky swagger couldn't have been starker.

As they entered the ring, Nicole unhooked her championship belt and handed it to the referee with an air of nonchalance, as if she had already decided the outcome of the match. April, standing across from her, tightened her gloves and locked eyes with Nicole, her determination palpable.

The ring announcer stepped forward, microphone in hand. "Introducing first, the challenger, accompanied by Davina Rose... APRIL LEE!" The crowd erupted again, chanting April's name as she raised her hand and smiled, clearly feeding off their energy.

"And her opponent," the announcer continued, "accompanied by Brianna Bella and Rebecca Knox, she is the reigning and defending FCW Divas Champion... NICOLE BELLA!"

A chorus of boos rained down, but Nicole seemed unfazed. She held up her hands, gesturing for the crowd to quiet down, which only made them boo louder. She laughed, turning to April with a mocking grin.

The bell rang, and the match was underway. April darted forward, trying to use her speed to her advantage, but Nicole was ready, meeting her with a quick arm drag that sent April sprawling to the mat. Nicole wasted no time, following up with a series of strikes that showed why she was the champion.

But April wasn't one to back down. She dodged a clothesline and countered with a dropkick that sent Nicole stumbling into the corner.

The crowd rallied behind her, chanting her name as she climbed the ropes and rained down punches on Nicole's head. The referee started counting, and April leaped down just before reaching the five-count, playing it smart.

The match continued with high intensity back and forth action. Nicole relied on her power and underhanded tactics, often distracting the referee so Brianna or Rebecca could interfere. At one point, Rebecca grabbed April's leg from outside the ring, causing her to stumble and allowing Nicole to take control with a vicious DDT.

_______________________

Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 19 (2009)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions