Blindfolded, Part One

OOC: If you take the time to read this I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’ve really been trying to step out of my comfort zone to give this character a few more layers to show some diversity in her reactions, interactions, etc. So far I am truly enjoying it and I do hope to continue these pieces in the next few weeks.



“ Days like this, no, nothing feels right

Nothing sticks, I can't get out of my mind

Tell myself to let it go (Tell myself to let it go)

Wish that I could let it go

It's hard to keep it down now

But I need to let the fever sweat out



Now I can't stand still, should be running free

And all these nightmares used to be daydreams

I got my eyes wide open

Don't wanna care 'bout nothing

Wish I could know less, just go back to bed

'Cause all my pink skies have been painted red

If this is real, don't show it

I wanna run blindfolded



Reality's a bitter taste (Bitter taste)

But fantasy can be so deceiving

All my good intentions gone to waste (Gone to waste)

I'll do anything to shut out this feeling

I can't go back, no, I've gone too far

I miss the way that my eyes filled with stars”



- “Blindfolded” Against the Current



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Get out of your head, get out of your head, GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD! Qiyara could hear herself screaming inwardly as she aggressively pounded her taped hands into the heavy bag, there were transitions, transitions she typically flowed through rather easily, but these were more aggressive, more enraged. She was wild and chaotic and lacking control.



The past few weeks had been like this, every time she tried to calm herself and find her center it was like some piece of her was missing. It was like there was a disconnect between her mind and body and for whatever reason, the rhythm she needed to control that was entirely too hard for her to find. It had been super frustrating being the reason that every single match they’d participated in, she’d been the reason they lost. A misstep here, missing one of her kicks there, her confidence had begun wavering and while she normally would’ve been able to refocus and work it out for herself, all she found herself capable of doing was messing it up again. Every. Single. Time.



Rhett had tried to help, he’d supported her as best he could and truthfully there wasn’t much he could do. He thought that maybe it was anxiety, why would it not be considering everything she’d gone through. An almost marriage to one of the world’s most notorious criminals who’d in turn hunted her down, forced her to change her name, and put both Rhett and his brother Rhys in danger on numerous occasions. They’d solved that problem now, but Rhett believed that maybe there was some residual damage. That she was experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from everything she’d been through. Whatever he could do to wrap his brain around why his girlfriend and tag team partner couldn’t get her shit together long enough for them to simply pin someone for a three count.



Rhett wasn’t the only one either. There was Donovan of course, he’d always been there for her as a friend in ways that she’d never expected. Almost like her brother had been reincarnated into Donnie’s spirit because they carried a similar energy in never wanting to give up no matter how hard the task may be. He was strong, resilient, and he wouldn’t give up on his friends.



She was appreciative of everyone she knew really. They all had tried to comfort her with whatever she had going on, but they couldn’t get inside of her head, they couldn’t read her mind or experience her thoughts and while she had tried to maintain her brave face, she merely couldn’t do that anymore. She was tired of pretending like she was happy just so others wouldn’t be uncomfortable with her unpleasant state. She was tired of being disrespected by others who wanted to replace her in a match because she wasn’t the standard of beauty they sought in their female competitors. Quite frankly. . . she was just tired and it felt like she’d been running on zero sleep for the past two weeks.



Yet, hiding away in Nightfall Fights seemed to be the best way that she could work through whatever energy she had that was burning up inside of her. There was still that rage of not being able to find her balance, the disconnect in her chakra that made it seem impossible for her to find herself again. She threw so much of her rage into her kicks and her punches that eventually her vision became blurred and she found herself tumbling to the floor, her knees automatically curling to her chest so that she could wrap her hands beneath them tightly and sob even if it was only for a moment.



That momentary release felt like the weight of the world just lifted if only for a second and even just that little bit of release helped relieve some of the pressure that had been building in her chest as well. There was no way that what she was going through was simply related to losing these matches, or not being able to find her groove, but the more she pondered over what it is that was really bothering her, it seemed the less of an answer she had.



Voice: “Don’t think taking it out on the bag is going to help your situation, Ma.”



There was a voice there, one she hadn’t been expecting, quite frankly she’d been enjoying her time here along because it was the one place of solace where she didn’t feel like someone was judging her for something. Her reactions, her emotions, her ability to recover from them. So much was conflicting her spirit, she just wanted to be left alone to deal with it without someone coming up to her and acting like they suddenly had the cure.



Yara was quick to look in her direction, surprised to see none other than Ahalya Patel, her fellow Indian Wrestler who albeit was much more successful than she was, but still offered a lot of support and encouragement to her during her early stages of training. For some reason when you looked at Ahalya you could simply feel her strength, she had such an inner presence and that strength always showed through in her eyes. It wasn’t just that she could spout words, or that she was an incredible performer, when she was able to convey herself she did so with the utmost integrity. Qiyara used to believe that she also had that gift until these past few weeks, because she always remained honest and grounded whenever she needed to deliver her words.



but lately, she just doubted everything. It felt as if she were moving through the world with a blindfold on at all times. There seemed to be no end to it in sight.



Ahalya Patel: “Alright, alright, c’mon, get up.”



She stated now walking over to give Yara a hand, and Qi was quick to not accept it as she stood up to her feet on her own, though her steps were wobbly now that her muscles had begun to cool down and stiffen up.



Qiyara Singh: “I’m fine”



Qi stated, knowing that whatever ability she had to fake her feelings for the rest of the world would not be able to show through now. She was not fine and she damn well knew that. Yet, to rely on someone else, someone she only knew just barely, didn’t sit well with her. If Rhett, Rhys, Donnie, and Chris Night hadn’t been able to help her, what exactly did Ahalya think she was going to be able to do for her?



Ahalya Patel: “You’re lucky I am stubborn and don’t take no for an answer there, Singh. Or else I might be offended and have to put you on your ass again.”



There was a slight delay in her speech as she said this and Qiyara could barely muster a laugh. She knew that she probably could indeed do so because of her recent struggles, but normally that would’ve been a harder task to muster. Qiyara may be kind by standard terms, but she’d had her fair share of physical fights that appealed to her toughness. It was why being in such a weak and vulnerable state was so frustrating to her.



Ahalya Patel: “Look. I know the whole thing with Bad and Bougie was awkard the other day, them tagging me, pretending like you weren’t deserving of being the match because you aren’t someone they consider cute, that ish was just them attempting to cover their mistake because they couldn’t tell the difference between the two Indian Girls. It was a pathetic attempt at that and then that douche bag Haven, Javen, what the fuck ever. Just has a hard on for the twin peaks sisters, alright. I know that ish bothered you, but there’s not reason for you to get all pissy with me about it.” 



Qiyara couldn’t help but laugh, while that situation had certainly made her angry that was hardly where her anger steered from, in truth she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had caused her anger, but that situation certainly hadn’t helped. All of her life she had been compared to other women, growing up in the slums of Mumbai it was not always easy to uphold the efforts of beauty standards, but as she had progressed in the world and found herself living more extravagantly then she’d ever imagined, she’d felt she’d moved past some of those insecurities and there were times where she was reminded just how easily that could get to her.



However, She was not dumb. Rhett was beautiful in every way possible and he’d chosen her out of many, There were others who always seemed to note her presence as that of a beauty queen, and thus the opinion of one man, however angry it may have made her, was not something that would have totally destroyed her image, nor would the opinion of the tag team champions wanting to fight Ahalya instead. They clearly were intimidated by facing the former tag team champions in Qiyara and Rhett, but luckily for them, Qi couldn’t seem to get her shit together, so they could’ve actually been highly grateful that she was in the match in place of Ahalya.



Still though, she found that this was only a bystanding issue of something much deeper, that she didn’t really seem to connect with all that well.



Qiyara Singh: “I hoped you’d think better of me than to think that I would let something so trivial truly bother me more than the few moments that it did. I merely made an observation about those things not mattering when It came to facing off in the ring and that being cute was not a direct result of showcasing talent.”



Her answer was matter-of-fact and she earnestly hated the attitude she was giving off to someone who simply wanted to help her succeed in the industry, but truthfully she was just drained at this point. The emotional capacity it would take to even try and continue was too difficult for her at the moment. She felt so tired and she just wanted to sleep away this pain, and wake up with it gone.



Ahalya Patel: “Alright then, how about we talk about your other problem then.”



Ahalya took that moment to cross her arms and Qiyara turned crossing hers as well, giving an off the wall look of intensity towards her.



Qiyara Singh: “I already told you, I would do that when I felt ready.”



She was matter-of-fact once again, but this time Ahalya wasn’t having it.



Ahalya Patel: “So having a nervous breakdown while working out at the heavy bag doesn’t constitute as a moment when you need to speak? Come on Yara, I know we aren’t all that close and shit, but anyone with eyes can see you’ve been going through it. I’m not the type to just stand by and let a strong, talented, beautiful woman beat herself up because she’s not living up to her own expectations. We all do that shit to ourselves way too much anyways.”



Ahalya was very vocal about that though Qiyara seemed to still not be as appreciative as Lya may have intended.



Qiyara Singh: “It was a private moment, one in which you interrupted and weren’t supposed to be present for, nevertheless, yes even then it doesn’t showcase that I am ready to speak to anyone about what is going on inside of my mind. You wouldn’t understand even if I did take the time to explain it to you.”



There was a slight pause and for a moment Ahalya looked as if she were about to escalate further, but in a surprising move she backed down. There was some element of truth it seemed to whatever was going on with Qiyara not really being her business, no matter how much she wanted to help her. It was something she was going to have to figure out on her own.



Ahalya Patel: “Yeah you’re right. Not Sure why I even bothered. Have a sit, cry your eyes out, mope around and continue doing whatever it is you’ve been doing to try and compensate for fixing your problem. Forget I brought it up.”



She now went to leave, tossing her duffel bag up onto her shoulder and heading towards the locker room looking as if she was going to change to ready for her own workout, Qi went to throw a punch and yet she stopped, the exhaustion setting in. She looked in Ahalya’s direction for a moment weighing her options, it seemed she was too tired to even think clearly at this point, but truly being kind was not something Qiyara should snap at someone for.



Qiyara Singh: “Look I’m sorry.”



She stated, and for a moment Ahalya halted in her step, but she didn’t turn around instead she simply waved.



Ahalya Patel: “Don’t worry about it Yara, one day you’re going to be ready to take that blind fold and get back to being the woman you used to be. Until then, you’ve got to do your own thing. I’ll see you later.”



There was a moment of ease in the air then and Qiyara nodded gracefully, she wasn’t ready just yet to try and explain what was happening, but in the main scheme of things, she just wanted to forget that all of this was happening.



After her trip at the gym, she would go home to curl up beside Rhett, when he left to do his own bits of individual training, she would let the tears race from her eyes again. Whatever this was it wasn’t disappearing and there was something more she needed to do to find out why, she just knew . . . she wasn’t going to like it. . . Because all this time she was supposed to keep it a secret, but it seemed no matter what she tried to do, Kehlani was not ready to rest just yet.