Hold Me Down

2

To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.
- Federico García Lorca

•••

Two years later...

Staring at the monitor from my father's office, I watched as the first match of the evening commenced. It was Money in the Bank—the second pay-per-view to be in front of a live crowd since the coronavirus pandemic. The first to enter the fray was Alexa Bliss. Five feet of fury and might. With her newest gimmick, she was some sort of possessed doll. I must admit, I was a little jealous of her newfound character. It was fresh, it was exciting, and since it was being done correctly, it was intriguing. By the time she had finished her entrance, there was a knock at the door followed by a forceful entry.

My father stood before me, in one of his infamous silk suits, with a headset strapped over his greyed hair. "We're ready for you, Char," he said, slightly stepping out of the frame to give me space to go through. Kicking my legs upward, I lifted myself from his desk chair and sighed a shaky breath.

It had been two years since I had been seen on a World Wrestling Entertainment screen. We had been through hell and back since my departure. A rivaling company, a worldwide pandemic, and still, nothing seemed crazier than the reason I had to step away. I ran my damp hands over the latex bottoms I wore, rolling my eyes towards the ceiling. Once my father picked up on the nervousness, he shut the door and walked over to me. Placing his hands on either of my shoulders, my head lowered for us to be face to face.

"Charlotte, you are arguably one of the best damn wrestlers to ever get in a ring. 'And I'm not just saying that because your old man's the boss, you have undeniable star power. These people, Char, these people love you. I love you, and I'm proud of you. So get out there, give them a McMahon return of the ages."

One thing that I couldn't take away from the old guy, he had a way with his words. It was as if suddenly all the fear dispersed from my body, and I was full of hunger and aggression. Wrestling was my world, my life. When I was forced to give it up, I was devastated. I sat home, sickly and weak, counting down the days that I could be back in a ring. 'And tonight, the wait would be over.

The walk to the gorilla position felt like one of the longest walks of my life. My father and I had to take another route in order to not be spotted by any of the other talent. This return was one of the best kept ones in history. Nobody would see it coming.

Once we reached the curtains, my father gave me one more look of approval. By then we had reached, Stephanie and Hunter who sat behind the monitoring table. I went unnoticed by the couple who fumbled with their headsets, trying to keep everything in order. Shuffling my feet, I threw my guard up and swiftly rotated my wrists outward. I inhaled, I exhaled, and I threw the bottom of my entrance cape behind me. It was my time to shine.

A beautiful, familiar guitar solo filled the arena. Suddenly, fourteen thousand fans and the seven other competitors in the ring were taken aback. The crowd was thunderous, Little Dreamer performed by Van Halen signaling my cue. I pushed past the curtains, my feet carrying me through and onto the stage. The cheers and tears still hadn't faded out, and I was becoming very emotional. I still had that sultry arrogance to my walk, a know-it-all smirk spread across my lips. "Did you miss me?" I emphasized into camera being held directly in front of me.

Sauntering down the ramp, I held my arms out slightly, shrugging the coat off. My blonde curls swayed alongside my hips, a move I adapted early on in my career. Looking out in the crowd, the many faces of the fans told a soul grabbing story. It was clear they missed their resident "dream girl," as the legendary J.R. fabulously nicknamed me early on in my career. Hence the entrance song. One of the officials scrambled to the ropes, perching himself on the middle to let me through. I tiptoed up the steel stairs, taking my oh, so sweet time to enter.

Collectively, I read the faces of the women inside the ring. Tamina and Natalya, joy. Some of my oldest friends. Zelina, Liv, and Alexa, admiration. Girls I had trained during their time in developmental. Asuka and Nikki, respect. While I wanted to go through and individually hug all seven of these ladies, I couldn't. I had a role to play, and I would damn sure get it right. I was a McMahon. I was dirty, vicious, and had no weaknesses. My only goal is success, and I'd stop at nothing to get it. That briefcase would be mine.

"That briefcase will be mine." I shouted to the other women while my music faded. The bell rung, action started, and I rolled out of the ring. Rounding the squared circle, I watched these women hammer away at each other. Everyone except Alexa Bliss.

Since the beginning of the match, she stood on the ropes, zoned out in her own world. Slyly creeping on the apron, I ran full speed towards her. On the last sprint, lifting my outside leg and letting it connect harshly with her cheek. An awful smack sounded, earning an appropriate reaction from the fans. While she tumbled over the ropes and onto the floor, I shook my head wildly and started to search for a ladder.

Shoving the largest one I seen into the ring, I crawled back inside underneath the bottom rope and rushed to set it up. Looking on the outside once more, everyone else was involved in their own battles, not even worrying about the task at hand. That said, I shrugged and wasted no time climbing those steps.

While I reached the top, I felt a sudden shake from under me. Down the ladder was Nikki Almost a Superhero, attempting to shove me off. With feigned fear in my eyes, I screamed piercingly, feeling the ladder be tipped on its side. I flew off the side, bouncing off the top rope and thumping onto the outside.

'And for about ten, long minutes that's where I'd lay. My eyes repeatedly opened and shut for long periods of time, eyeing the action around me. Right next to me, Alexa had gotten buried underneath a plethora of ladders. Struggling to view the action, I crawled towards the ring apron, grasping at the material before rolling back in. Three ladders were set up side by side where the rest of the ladies fought each other, completely ignoring the briefcase.

The rest of the ladies except me.

Sneakily crawling to the opposite side of the ring, I climbed the ladder behind Liv where she was trading blows with Nikki. Hoisting myself to the top step, I reached up and unclasped the briefcase. The bell tolled, and the action stopped. The fans erupted while looks of defeat washed over the rest of the women's faces. Shrugging again, I climbed down the ladder one handedly. An official again widened the ropes for me, allowing me to step through, this time with the Money in the Bank briefcase in hand.

"I told you!" Smirking towards the ring, I lifted my hand in victory while retreating up the ramp. I repeated my previous words over and over again to the crowd, running a shaky hand over my exposed stomach. Damn, I missed this. I missed the rush, I missed the bumps, and I missed these unexpected moments. Once I reached the top of the stage, I blew a kiss towards the dejected faces still in the ring before disappearing backstage.

Welcomed by claps, I finally let the tears fall, being welcomed into a hug by my sister. She stepped back, eyes watering with astonishment. "You deserve this, Char. You were amazing out there." Stephanie rubbed a soothing hand down my back, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, breathing heavily. I lived for moments like these. Moments of approval by my sister so much that I completely forget about all the magic I create in the ring.

Just as she let go, my father approached me. He cradled a thirty pound human in his arms. Head full of hair with the stubbiest cheeks, Hayden reached out for me with grabby hands. "Mommy," he croaked, yawning in his grandpa's arms. Setting the briefcase on the monitor table, I widened my arms and took the toddler in my arms.

He was a splitting image of me, which I thanked the Lord for every night. It helped me avoid the obvious questions on his absentee father. I snuggled my nose into those red cheeks, being taken back by the smell of chocolate. "Who gave you candy?" His little finger shot outwards, my eyes following the tip of it until it landed on Hunter.

"Uncle Hunter," he told in the tiniest voice. Nodding my head, I continued to stare at the very man who refused to make eye contact with me. The very man who knew my rule on giving Hayden candy during the evening. The very man whose own son had to refer to him as uncle.