Post by figgles on Dec 24, 2022 2:11:08 GMT -6
Missy sat at the bleachers of the courtyard engrossed in a composition notebook on her lap, some of her contemporaries might notice such an item was always with her. A lot has weighed on her mind recently. She wasn’t the stand-out among her team, but it does seem that the couch puts a lot of faith in her, and she doesn’t know why. Sure, she had proven herself able to perform, but she seemed to fall short whenever opportunities presented themselves. She choked. That’s just what she does. Much like when she tries to talk to anyone outside of her parents. Her mind was pulled from the negativity when she heard someone approach the courtyard. Riot color commentator: Jacob Figgins. He raised what appeared to be a work I.D to the security team to be allowed through. Once given clearance, he headed toward the bleachers to meet Missy.
Missy began to gesture wildly toward the man. What may seem like wild gestures, anyway.
Figgy: Ok, slow it down. I can understand sign language, but not you throwing jutsus at me.
Missy took a breath and slowed down the rapid pace of her signing.
<You got my texts? You never answered. I mean, I know you are busy>
Figgins pulled a small envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it over to Missy. He spoke while she opened it.
Figgy: I have been. But your mother wanted me to make sure this got to you. Knowing Lacey, it’s probably gift cards. But yeah, I also noticed your texts seemed kind of down lately. I know I haven't seen you since you were ten, but I promised Nate I’d keep an eye out for you.
Missy opened the paper and rolled her eyes. Giftcards, a lot of them and it seemed like three of each. Her mother served as an agent for many wrestlers back in her day, she was all about networking. She expected Missy to win the right people over with clothing and lattes. She tucked the contents into her notebook before glancing up.
<I think I made a mistake. Trying to do all this. I get so nervous I literally cannot talk to anyone outside of my parents. Yet here I am trying to play professional wrestler. And it just seems like excellence is expected of me, but no direction is given. Like I did this for my uncle, he was my favorite person. Was this the right thing?>
Figgins froze for a minute. First, cause he wasn't all that great with sign language, second because he realized the doubt coming from Missy.
Figgy: Ok, I am not going to say this as your cousin. I'm saying this as a guy who has been doing it for a long time, a guy who commentates on this. A guy who judges matches as part of his job. You are a natural. On things trainees would hesitate on, you took right to it. And for someone who has yet to say a word, there is still an audience that you connect with. Your couch picked you early in that draft. Your couch has also placed some faith in you. Communication might not be great, but she sees something.
Missy raised her hands in order to say something but she is quickly cut off by her cousin.
Figgy: You still have a lot to improve. That girl Reign. She's making a lot more noise…gets more buzz than you
Figgins paused. Figuring "making noise" was not the greatest turn of phrase to use when talking to his mute cousin.
Figgy: You want direction. It's right there. Simplify your goal. Be the best of your team. Make more buzz than Reign. Yeah, that's intentionally seeking the spotlight and that probably scares the crap out you.
Missy bit her lip contemplating those words. She hadn't really had friends before the academy. The person in question may not be a friend in any sense, but they had friendly interactions. She wasn't entirely sure about trying to steal Reigns spotlight.
< But I don't want to start off making enemies. I haven't even had friends outside of family yet. I don't I need to go around trying to steal spotlight from my teammates.>
Figgins chuckled.
Figgy: I stole the spotlight from Nate in 2004. He didn't catch up till 2013. Johnny Maverick stole the spotlight from me and I never got it back. We're still best friends. Rivalries can be friendly. It's part of the dance. You are rivals with everyone who steps between those ropes. You can make friends in this sport. But when time passes. You gotta stop kicking for Kayla. Stop kicking for Nate. You gotta Kick for Missy.
Missy had a flat expression on her face.
< Was that last part needed? That was corny. Like still on the cob. But thanks. I still don't know what I'm doing. But I think I might get a few ideas. >
Figgins pats the shoulder of Missy before turning to take his leave.
Figgins: Shoot me a text whenever you need. My words may not mean much to the biz these days, but I have a lot of them.
Missy rose from her seat. Face contorting as her lips part.
Missy: Th…th..
She tried to force words out. Though they seemed unable to escape
Figgy: Baby steps…