Blindfolded, Part Two

So now I've made the decision to walk behind you

In the dark, for the rest of my life

And I'll never show my face again

Because it's too scarred and bloody to be enough

And I don't have the right stuff

All I have are empty boxes to carry away your heart

And I think that tonight

I will sneak into your house

And I'll sing songs and wake you up

And I'll take you blindfolded, dancing onto bridges





- “Blindfolded” by Saves the Day





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There was a sickening thud heard in the echoes of the Nightfall Fights Gym. Having a booked a private session all you could see were tendrils of hair falling over her face as Qiyara Singh hit the mat hard. A loud groan visibly escaping her lips as the fully clad Ahalya Patel stood above her pads and shields protecting her visibly sensitive areas of her body. Patel placing a hand on her hip as she let out a sigh of her own.



Ahalya Patel: “Again!”



She echoed as Qiyara seemed to be wobbly when getting up to her feet, the visible sweat and fatigue obviously showing in her features. They’d probably been at this for hours, but Patel if nothing else was consistent. Especially noting they had a match coming up together in the next week to take on Bad & Boujee, the stylish and innovative tag team champions of MWE at the moment.



Qiyara Singh: “I need a moment.”



Yara stated, trying her best to still catch her breath, and Ahalya let out a laugh. Having already seen the week before just where her headspace was you could tell that The Indian Queen wasn’t anywhere near sympathetic enough to Qiyara’s plight and though it might be for good reasoning, there was still a hint of cynicism in her demeanor when it came to this situation.



Ahalya Patel: “What you need is to get your head out of your ass, and focus. Turn off whatever in the fuck is going on up there in that pretty little head of yours and get your shit together. Your little boy toy might be okay with watching you screw shit up every week because ya’ll are partners for life and shit, but I’m not about that life. This match might be put together by a matter of circumstance, but I have a championship opportunity coming up that I could be prepared for and instead I’m taking time out to work with you and get you back where you need to be.”



There was tough love there, but you could tell it came from a good place although Qiyara’s laugh as a response clearly indicated she didn’t take it as such.



Qiyara Singh: “You act as if I asked for this myself. I am perfectly fine going it on my own, so do not pretend you’re doing me any favors.”



Ahalya could visibly be seen gulping down whatever she might have said next. She instead began to unfasten the hit pads she had on to aid in Qiyara’s training. As she looked at the clock you could tell that the time for their session was ticking and a gym as busy as Nightfall had plenty of bookings to go around. As she placed the pads down, Qiyara walked over to the corner leaning over the turnbuckle to continue catching her breath, though the arch of her back was strong, almost like she was heaving. Ahalya was gritting her teeth as she tied her hair up and almost in a hint of madness she ran up behind Qiyara rolling her backwards into a submission hold. Qiyara screamed out trying to break it early on, but as a specialist in many types of Martial Arts and with Qiyara having let her guard down, you could tell the Mumbai native was in for a moment of torture with this hold locked on her.



She yelped, but this caused Ahalya to only lock in it tighter.



Ahalya Patel: “I don’t know what your problem is, but quite frankly I’m got damn tired of it. You’re not going to go out to this ring and make me look bad, do you hear me?! Now yeah you ain’t asked me for any favors, but as someone who helped you work and develop your style into a ring persona early on in your career, I think I deserve a little fucking credit.”



Qiyara’s anger was coming through then and she attempted to power out of the move twisting and writhing her body but it only enabled Ahalya to lock in it tighter. A friendly patron of the gym strolled in then to remind them of their training time coming to an end, but Ahalya was hell bent on keeping the hold locked in, and instead the man plead with her to release the hold.



Ahalya Patel: “Nah Dog, fuck that! I’m not releasing it until she breaks out of it. That’s been the problem up until now anyways. People letting you stop, letting you quit, letting you give up. No one making you stick to your guns like the proud Indian that you are supposed to be. You cower when making a misstep, you display sadness and rage when you don’t get the job done, and then you sit here in dark corners festering in anger and pity like someone is supposed to come save you. Bump that shit man!”



She was mixing her native Indian tongue with a little boy of New York and whatever else you might call her street vernacular, but when she was outraged or pissed that is what came out. You could tell that despite her saying these things to Qiyara there was a bit of personal reflection seeping through her words, perhaps things she used to say to herself during moments of her own transgressions.



Ahalya Patel: “You’re discounting yourself and everyone who has ever fucking believed in you Singh, and for what? HUH?”



You could hear the gym patron telling her that she was going to break her arm if she kept it up and Lya only laughed before she shook her head. Releasing hold of Qiyara’s wrist which is where the hold was actually locked in at and she rolled up onto her feet.



Ahalya Patel: “No I wasn’t, and she knows that.”



Ahalya said now grabbing the supplies she had with her. Qiyara now rolled over gripping her free hand to her shoulder and cupping her wrist close to her chest. There was some moisture in her eyes that was visibly seen as she attempted to roll out of the ring, but it was hardly from being put in the move. This was a woman who fought in Muay Thai matches long before she ever climbed inside of a wrestling ring. She had shown more times than not that she was capable of holding her on in a fight, but there was no spirit there, no drive. Whatever affliction was plaguing her mind wasn’t going to be beaten out of her and that much was clear to see. Whatever she was feeling it was deeply instilled and Ahalya who probably considered her a friend had grown tired of trying. Both women seemed to be lacking of the energy it took to be considered anything positive in that moment.



As they both gathered their things and headed towards the gyms exit, Qiyara could be seen taking a seat on a bench outside of the facility, the sun was getting low in the sky and Ahalya was quick to follow behind her. Sitting nearby, but not close enough to invade her space like she had previously.



Ahalya Patel: “I’m sorry for losing my shit in there, but you know what. I think I’m going to let Elsa know this shit just isn’t going to work. I’ll take the twins on myself in a handicap match or something. I don’t know what to do to help you and quite frankly this whole sad, depressed, don’t cry for me Argentina vibe is not my flavor.”



Qiyara couldn’t help but laugh at that in the moment before she looked up and let out an even bigger laugh that seemed weirdly inappropriate for the time.



Qiyara Singh: “Actually you doing what you did, represents the first time I have felt alive in quite some time. It more than likely will not last more than a brief moment, but. . . the pain is nice.”



Ahalya stared at her for a moment, but you could tell she was trying to process just what in the hell this girl was on about. This was not the ambitious Indian Woman she’d met years ago who wanted to show the world just how talented she was through the means of Muay Thai and Pehlwani wrestling. She was legit In her want to spread many of the talents of India that hadn’t been allowed into the international main frame. In truth, they resonated a lot of similarities with one another in their goals, though Lya was a bit more ambitious with everything that she wanted to do, while Qiyara had been content in just working with the love of her life.



The thought of that made Ahalya want to gag, but she had to admit they were good together, they offered a bond and kinship that a lot of tag teams didn’t and she could appreciate that. What she couldn’t appreciate though was a woman who she knew exuded an inner strength she’d envied once upon a time and now just wanted to give all that up, the sudden kink for pain was a bit disturbing too she had to note.



Qiyara Singh: “I don’t like feeling this way you know.”



She stated breaking Ahalya out of her thoughts. This was the first time in weeks that she had seen her fellow Indian speak with clarity, when she wasn’t pretending to be happy and trying to appease those around her. It was refreshing truthfully considering how guarded she’d been only the week prior.



Qiyara Singh: “I feel as if I deserve it though, in some way I have been responsible for changing the lives of everyone around me, thus I deserve whatever pain and sadness I need to feel. I need to burden it because I am the reason for its occurrence.”



Ahalya stared at her again, and she wanted to scoff at that notion, but she didn’t. Because deep down the absolution of that statement resonated with another part of her life that it had taken her a very long time to get through. A time where she had to do so many things, she didn’t want to just survive. To hear a woman she not only respected but admired in a lot of ways speak in that manner that took her back to that place, was triggering to say the least.



So she didn’t say anything, instead she let the other woman speak as clearly there was something on her heart that she’d been holding in.



Qiyara Singh: “I just feel as If I have been trying to roam around with a blind fold on, blocking things out in hopes that it would fix itself. That I could change what I have done by refusing to acknowledge it and that maybe with enough chanting, enough clearing of the mind, enough prayer. That perhaps I wouldn’t see it any longer, but I cannot do that. Each time I try it is there and it creeps up and it blocks me from doing what needs to be done. It is exhausting. . . it is . . . terrifying.”



She let out an exasperated sigh that showcased the drain in her energy that she was feeling and truthfully Ahalya could empathize, again being taken back to a moment in her life when she too was In that all too familiar place. He’d put his hands on her, she’d think it was her fault, rinse and repeat. She knew that wasn’t Qiyara’s situation though, the dude she was with didn’t hold anything but mind-numbing love for her in a way that was both admirable and sickening.



Ahalya Patel: “You can’t help the way you feel ma, but you know as well as I do. You can’t keep the blinders on forever. Whatever it is, its just going to fester there until it eats you whole if you let it. Trust me when I say I’ve been there. Its not cute, its not fun, and it certainly ain’t bad and boujee.”



Ahalya chuckled at that, giving a nod to the tag team duo she’d come to respect over the past couple of weeks.



Ahalya Patel: “I will tell you what though, you keep opening up, being honest about your feelings and all that shit, and eventually you’ll get to where you need to be. I’ve been there queen and it takes time, believe me it takes A LOT of time, but when you finally break through that shit. You’re going to be the baddest chick in the building. I’ll see you tomorrow.”



Ahalya stood now, placing some sunglasses over her eyes and walking to her motorcycle that was park out front, sliding on a faux leather jacket that had become all too synonymous with her image as she slid on her helmet and pulled out of the lot. Qiyara just sat there staring at her leave and she only smiled seeing Rhett pull up and she slid into the passenger side of their ride.



Rhett Adelson: “How’d it go babe?”



He asked, as she stared at him with his backwards cap and clean-cut grin. She offered a smile to him, one she’d come to mask rather well over the past few weeks, but this one held a genuine nature to it.



Qiyara Singh: “Better. . . strangely.”



She said, trying to pretend she wasn’t still favoring the arm that Ahalya had marked her signature submission on as she leaned over towards him kissing him softly.



Qiyara Singh: “I missed you though. No team will ever compare to Adelson-Singh.”



She measured with a grin, As Rhett began to drive off from the lot, and they headed back to their home.