Post by Qiyara Singh on Jan 19, 2020 16:17:11 GMT -6
There were times when she had been excited, the past few months had taught her that these moments were good things. Considering the enduring amount of hardship it had taken to get here and the fact that in the past few months she’d gone from barely having a shirt on her back to living the life she was now. . . these things were not lost on her. Coming from the slums in mumbai to experiencing a rich and lavish lifestyle from a man who didn’t deserve her, it all seemed to have some familiar ring to it. Like a bad movie where the heroine of the film is finally allotted her chance at revenge.
Qiyara, never felt that way, in fact she was grateful for the people who had touched her life, even the bad ones. It was a driving factor and even more so, an honest look at the hardships that life created, it made chanting words like ‘Om vajrapani hum’ truly show their significant meaning, the value of transformation and fixing one’s life. Mind you the path to do that meant she’d had to leave behind not only her family, but a target on her back. . . and in the process she’d left someone else’s family behind.
To the outside world, she and Rhett’s relationship probably seemed rather quick. He was her trainer at NightFall Fights and then her Tag Team Partner, and within a week or two of that developing he’d become her boyfriend, but their paths had crossed long before that. Not necessarily for the two of them physically, but in the appearance of another whom she was eternally grateful for.
- - - - - - - - - -
He’d taken great risk, as the rain pelted down her face and the strong grip of the man in front of her pulled her along. She hadn’t been able to pack much, for one if she had it would’ve been hard to move and for another. . . it would’ve given way to her plan. It was described as a simple trip to temple to pray, and just as she was leaving the compound he’d met her outside, ushered her along and she wasn’t allowed to look back. She had spent the evening praying to Ganesh (the elephant-faced deity) for wisdom and to remove all obstacles and like an answer to her prayers, he’d been there.
Dressed in his military green, it was a familiar color she’d grown accustomed to and his eyes were a set that had become all too memorable to her, not because of him, but because of how much they looked like Rhett’s. This man had come to her several months ago and spoke with her, you could automatically tell that he was an American and that he was in some type of organization beyond that. He was tall, broad shouldered, deep-set eyes, and simply stood stoically enough to match the part of what one would call a soldier. He reminded her of her father, blessed be his spirit. Nevertheless, she was reluctant to help him other than to teach him the customs of her country, and help him to blend in to their society. That was before she had been chosen by one that many would’ve deemed the Prince of Mumbai, Rajan Ibrahim. Unfortunately, Ibrahim’s family and their ties to India’s most notorious crime syndicate along with her mother’s need to marry her off for their family’s welfare meant that Qiyara didn’t have much choice when it came to the selection process. The process had been much like she imagined the Hunger Games to be, in that once her name had been drawn she virtually had no choice. She was young, pretty, and vivacious, and even by the slums standards she was well taken care of. Virtually the perfect choice. At first she had been okay with it, it promised her family wealth and with the absence of her father who had passed away years before, it was something they needed greatly. To get away from the poverty that persisted in her city. It seemed too good to be true and it was. Within the first month she learned of just who Rajan was and his family name shown to be exactly what the rumors had made of it. Illegal Drug Trade, Weapons Trafficking, and even bombings on the streets of her beloved city. It was too much for her to take and as she tried to back out, to convince her mother that surely there was someone else worthy, it was too late to turn away.
Somehow this man who was helping her today, knew about the plans and had deeper knowledge of Ibrahim’s outfit than she did. He told her just how bad of a man he really was and had promised her a way out. At first, she thought she was selfish for wanting to leave, knowing what it meant for her family, but she knew deep down that her father wouldn’t have allowed her to be a party to this, she knew he wouldn’t want their financial security this way and she vowed that once she was away, her family would have their needs met.
But as he led her through the rainy streets of mumbai that day, she only had him to be grateful for. As they approached the taxi cab that would then lead them to the airport she stared at a passport that he handed her, her picture and even her last name were the same, but something completely different read in the script.
Man: “I know this is happening suddenly, but I’ve made all the arrangements, Raj has found out about you helping me, I didn’t really see a better time than now.”
She felt confused about what he was saying, looking behind the passport to see a clutch like purse with a great deal of money tucked away, it made her furrow her brow and almost not accept it but he held his hand up.
Man: “Kehlani, you are in danger, if you go back there he will kill you. I will make sure nothing happens to you or your family. I’ve already spoken to your brother Vihaan in Thailand, he will be awaiting your arrival.”
She nodded and grew silent as they passed through the streets of the only home she’d ever known, despite only knowing him for a short period of time he’d given her the opportunity to be free again and that was always something she would never be able to repay him for. As the next hour or so passed, he accompanied her from the cab and paid the driver handsomely for what she imagined was his silence, before walking her inside.
Qiyara: “I’m uncertain of how I can ever repay you.”
He offered a brief smile and then led her to her terminal without so much of a word.
Man: “I wouldn’t say you owe me much of anything, you’re giving up your home and your life over a situation you couldn’t avoid. I purposefully ran from mine and now I can’t seem to get back.”
She stared at him curiously.
Man: “I know it is big within your customs to repay all debts, so I’ll say if you don’t hear from me soon, that I only have one request. I want you to find my brother Rhett, and tell him what happened.”
You simply nodded unsure or rather unaware of what he meant by what could possibly happen. You imagined he would be leaving too at the same time as you but even as he nestled you away on the plane and you soon after drifted off into sleep, by the time you awoke he was missing. You’d learned since then that his name was Rhys, and he had been the answer Ganesh given to your prayers, and his debt was one you would forever be working to repay.
- - - - - - - - - -
The Flight had been a long one and despite her best attempts at pretending she was getting used to the traveling she still had her doubts. All the times she’d heard of planes going down in the middle of nowhere, the disappearance of people who would never be heard from again, it all resonated a little too close to home, but it was a necessary evil unfortunately. She’d had the unfortunate weight of knowing too many people who had gone missing for one reason or another and one of those people is what brought her to her destination today.Las Vegas, Nevada. She’d never seen such a beautiful sight and truthfully, had she not been on a personal mission of sorts she would’ve taken more time to appreciate all of the scenery, it certainly beat the slums of Mumbai. . . but the same person she was going to meet was also the relative of the person who was responsible for her escaping her fate and while she had very much to thank him for unfortunately she’d never gotten the chance as he’d gone missing shortly after coming to her aid.
It was scary to think that she was possibly the reason for his disappearance and she felt this was the only way that she could get to the conclusion of what actually happened to him. It took some time to contact his brother, truthfully, she wasn’t even sure that he would believe her and while there was little to no doubt that he might, she was also not someone to consider a damsel by any use of the word, and he would listen to her. . . she would make him.
Philandering her way through the crowd of the overly packed restaurant she searched idly for the face of the man she was to meet. Dressed appropriately, she’d donned the most expensive dress she owned, a golden, beaded fringe piece with shoes to match giving off the appearance of something much more expensive than she actually was. Wearing minimal accessories of a golden chain around her neck and her hair styled straight with a simple part, she drifted over to a table wondering if maybe he hadn’t arrived just yet or perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all. Finding herself being seated alone she measured a nice smile to the waiter who attended her only splurging for a water as she awaited for the arrival of her guest, her stomach churned as she was a bottle of nerves.
Rhett saw Qiyara before she could see him. He had on a plain white shirt, blue jeans and a pair of the latest Jordan’s. He made his way over to her table and her eyes finally caught his. Rhett offered a wave and a slight smile, but through the smile, it was obvious he was nervous to meet one of the last people who saw his brother, Rhys, alive. Rhett finally made it to the table and almost went in for a hug before extending his hand for a handshake and then sitting down across from Qiyara,
Rhett Adelson: “Hey! It’s good to finally meet! Sorry if I kept you waiting long, traffic was kind of crazy.”
There was a faint recognition of him as he came into view and his mannerisms certainly helped to ease her mind, although there was a misconnect with their body language and he went from what she imagined was a hug to a shake of the hand. She wasn’t sure about these mannerisms in fact she wasn’t sure of much really considering the cultural differences, but she at least knew of customary greetings and returned his gesture wholesomely.
Qiyara Singh: “Nice to meet you as well, you look a lot like him you know.”
She paused momentarily not sure that was the best opening line to go with, but it was enough of one to get her to relax as she motioned for him to sit down.
Qiyara Singh: Its okay. You should see the traffic in Mumbai, you would think nothing of this.
There was a brief glimpse of a smile when it came to her homeland, though it would fade rather quickly considering the things she’d left behind there. A sordid history she wasn’t able to get into just yet or one that she’d rather not. She fidgeted momentarily sliding a loose strand of her hair behind her ear she was able to lock focus with him and smile once again as she brought herself back to the forefront of the conversation and out of the pit of her mind.
Qiyara Singh: I appreciate you meeting me considering. . .
She paused again taking a moment to consider her words carefully.
Qiyara Singh: I’m sure you’ve had many people wanting to offer you assistance. I’m not sure what help I might be, but perhaps . . .
She dwindled off into her mind once more, thinking back to the last time she’d seen him, Rhys. . . the American Marine who’d basically given her a get-away ticket. She’d taken the passport, all of the necessary information, and gotten out before she could even turn back. The last feint image of him walking off into the distance. Rhett let out a slight sigh before he shook his head, as there hasn’t been anyone who’s reached out to him in years.
Rhett Adelson: There’s nobody anymore, Qiyara. Everyone has given up, even my parents. It almost feels like I’m the last person on earth who still believes my brother is out there somewhere, alive and needing help. I can’t give up on him.
Rhett shook his head once more as he thought about his older brother, the man he looked up to his entire life, the only person who could ever go to for advice when he needed it. Rhett looked up into Qiyara’s eyes and shrugged.
Rhett Adelson: I don’t know where to look. I’ve used up all of my money that I’ve earned wrestling to try and get answers but every time I thought I had an answer, it led to nothing. So, now it looks like I’m going to have to get back in the ring soon, to be honest.
Rhett chuckled to himself for a moment, realizing that he was rambling on.
Rhett Adelson: Sorry, I should probably let you talk, since you’re the one who might have some kind of valuable information. All I have is dead ends and dead memories I’ve been holding onto.
As he looked into her eyes, she could only purse her lips together further, she’d gone from facial expressions of thought to something more sincere, holding his gaze for longer than she intended to. She empathized with him truly, considering her brother too had disappeared some time ago, though she knew there was no hope for him. Rayhan had been the light in her dark world for a long time and taught her things that she wasn’t even entitled to know truly. Things that women in India weren’t supposed to be taught. Though times were changing her family for one still held onto a more patriarchal structure until her papa had passed away, and then that left them all sort of squandering in the slums, her mother barely able to scrape by selling cloth.
As he responded to her she gave that same empathetic smile before she nodded.
Qiyara Singh: I am not certain that I can promise much.
She said this with a light laugh one that still held the tiniest amount of Southern India in her accent as she looked at him, eyes glowing like warm cinnamon she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
Qiyara Singh: There were some people he helped me escape from, back in Mumbai. They’re very bad people.
She emphasized, truthfully she was supposed to have been married to one of them, but a long list of craziness had led her here, her name had changed from Kehlani to Qiyara as had her entire life, but she’d never forgotten the man who helped her escape it all.
Qiyara Singh: They have ties with militant groups, Russia, the Taliban. . . the list goes on.
She stopped briefly now not really sure she should encourage going after these people. She knew what it was like to miss your sibling and to also need answers, but she was also worried what this information might encourage him to do.
Qiyara Singh: I’m not certain that they did anything to him, but it was just before you told me he went missing.
She reached outwardly in an effort to grab his hand though she didn’t realize the implication of such an action.
Qiyara Singh: These are not the type of people you can take down . . . at least not alone.
She thought of her family then and the number of ways she would bend over backwards to try and save them, to help them escape from the slums of India, she knew it wouldn’t be easy to deter him from choosing a similar path to her own. She’d worked on her diction to lose some of the accent she had when speaking English, and had even been training in multiple principles of martial arts, luckily she’d not lost any teeth yet nor had she been knocked in the face too many times, but she was managing to at least scrape by.
Rhett seemed a bit shocked as Qiyara finished speaking about the entire situation. She could see him mouth the words, “Taliban” and “Russia”, it’s obvious he had no clue how deep into things his brother truly may have been. Rhett finally let out a sigh and shook his head.
Rhett Adelson: I can’t give up on my brother. I need answers, I need to find out what happened and whether he’s dead or alive. If I have to do it alone? Then so be it.
Rhett grabbed Qiyara’s hand and forced a smile.
Rhett Adelson: I appreciate the information, Qiyara, I really do. But there’s no need for you to put yourself into harm's way again. My brother helped you escape that mess and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you too.
Rhett paused for a moment and shrugged his shoulder before he squeezed Qiyara’s hand.
Rhett Adelson: At the end of the day? You’re kind of all I have left when it comes to my brother. Not only were you one of the last people to see him, but you were the last person he helped. I can’t let that go to waste because I’m on some wild goose chase.
She took a moment to listen to him before shaking her head softly, there was a look of concern in her expression, but also that hint of stubbornness that sometimes made her eyes turn a different shade, almost to the color of Jade.
Qiyara Singh: You are under the impression that I was asking.
She lightly reached her other hand across the table to pat the top of his. There was always that hint of rebellion in her, though she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of going back into that situation, she had to admit the odds against Rhett were much too great. She knew her country, knew these men and who to contact there, she knew the various locations of their hide outs. As a former insider she had more information than she could truly ever volunteer, because where she came from or at least the situation she’d come from . . . information kept you alive.
Qiyara Singh: I won’t be responsible for another Adelson going missing. . . or worse.
Her smile was polite, but her mannerisms were also finite.
Qiyara Singh: I won’t try to stop you from doing what you need to, but I’m certainly not going to let you do it alone either, that’d be reckless and irresponsible.
She paused momentarily, thinking about her situation, about everything that was happening around the both of them. She’d been working nights at an Indian restaurant collecting tips, she’d used what little money she had to travel from there to here, staying with some of her distant relatives that had moved here years ago, it had been enough for her to get by but she knew if she were going to help him. . .if she were really going to make a difference she was going to have to do something more, something with a little more reward.
Qiyara Singh: Getting back in the ring?
She questioned now taking her hand away, her hair dropping over her shoulder halfway, as she rested her hand into her chin. She had some experience with fights, she’d done a few kickboxing matches for extra money back in Thailand, before she’d come here and truly she had enjoyed herself until she’d almost broken her jaw. After that she’d had to caution herself, but she had seen the type of moves they performed, they were liquid in motion and while the aspect of being injured was there, the sport wasn’t necessarily meant for knock out purposes which offered it a little less of a dangerous aspect.
Qiyara Singh: Could you teach me?
She questioned now with curiosity growing in her eyes. She wasn’t sure how else to word the phrase.
Rhett furrowed his brow and tilted his head as he looked at Qiyara. He was surprised that she wanted to get in the ring but he wasn’t going to turn her down either. While Rhett may be a wrestler, he’s also spent a good portion of this last year as a trainer at Nightfall. He eventually leaned forward over the table, keeping his eyes on Qiyara.
Rhett Adelson: If you’re truly serious about it, then yeah, I can. As soon as you’re ready to get started, I’ll get you settled in at Nightfall. But just to get an early start right now, is there any fighting styles or techniques that you have a background in? I only ask just so I know you’ll end up being with the right teachers at the gym.
There was a brief glimpse in her eyes as she smiled and nodded.
Qiyara Singh: My brother was a wrestler. . . not the same type as you. He did Pehlwani, they’re forced into camp and basically spend all of their time training, very similar to gladiators if I can think of an accurate example.
She paused thinking of her brother Rayhan, she wouldn’t mention his death as a cause his career, but instead elected to glimpse over it.
Qiyara Singh: I learned some from him. . . I’m not certain it would apply here, but I've also trained in Muay Thai, Kickboxing, and self-defense. India can be a cruel country, a woman has to be prepared.
That statement was too true, even though she very much enjoyed her homeland, there was also a lot of injustice when it came to how society was treated, much like the Arab world and other places where women weren’t always regarded so highly, she wouldn’t say that she suffered much because of it due to her family’s rather unique beliefs, but there were still some old world traditionalist who believed in the old way of life. Rhett listened to her intently, nodding along as she finished talking.
Rhett Adelson: While all of that isn’t wrestling, it’s still a plethora of fighting styles that you can translate into the ring, so you have a head start over most people who seek out being a wrestler. But I will make sure you’re ready for this.
Rhett nodded his head confidently as he paused for a moment, thinking about eventually training Qiyara. While he’s been helping train people at Nightfall, he hasn’t taken anyone under his wing yet. Not because he can’t, but simply because of the responsibility that comes with it. After a few seconds, he finally speaks up again.
Rhett Adelson: While the world here in the states isn’t as cruel as it can be where you’re from, it can be extremely cruel inside of the ring. People will want to break you and end your career because you’re trying to take their spot, their livelihood. Wrestling isn’t just knowing what moves to do but it’s also a mind game. Psychology is the most important part and if you stick by me? I’ll make sure you get that part down to where nobody will take you by surprise.
She took a moment to think about what he was saying and she nodded along as he let her in on the keen elements of American Wrestling. Maybe she didn’t understand everything, but this was the point of her asking, it was the point of their entire conversation truthfully, this was the only way she would be able to help him find his brother and perhaps even build her livelihood.
Qiyara Singh: I would be very grateful.
She admitted truthfully giving another soft smile as she stared at him. It was strange to think that some time ago he was a stranger to her along with his brother, and yet unlike anyone else they’d helped her so much to get as far as she had.
Qiyara Singh: I know a thing or two about that, but I am certainly open to learning more.
She acknowledged, in essence to someone’s livelihood to the psychology behind the sport. It had many parallels in comparison. Everyone wanted to be the best.
Qiyara Singh: When should we get started?
Rhett smiled at her reply, as he could tell she wanted to get started right away. He then shrugged his shoulders and replied.
Rhett Adelson: Tomorrow! But you’ll be studying and watching what’s going on in the gym. It’ll show you how it all works, while also giving you the idea of what teachers you want to learn from based on their particular skills that they teach. Then we can get you started the day after and I’ll be there to help you every stop of the way, alright?
Rhett’s tone was sincere and he wanted to give off the vibe that he wasn’t doing this for Qiyara because she could be the key to finding out what happened to his brother. No, Rhett wanted to help Qiyara train because he could tell she was a good person who was willing to learn and give her absolute best.
- - - - - - - - - -
The moments that led to where they were now, were still plenty ahead, but from the training and the work they put in together, there was also their personal quest. Finding out what happened to Rhett’s brother, Even investigating the disappearance of one of her own, and perhaps even making Qiyara face a couple of demons she wasn’t quite ready to face yet.
To be Continued
Qiyara, never felt that way, in fact she was grateful for the people who had touched her life, even the bad ones. It was a driving factor and even more so, an honest look at the hardships that life created, it made chanting words like ‘Om vajrapani hum’ truly show their significant meaning, the value of transformation and fixing one’s life. Mind you the path to do that meant she’d had to leave behind not only her family, but a target on her back. . . and in the process she’d left someone else’s family behind.
To the outside world, she and Rhett’s relationship probably seemed rather quick. He was her trainer at NightFall Fights and then her Tag Team Partner, and within a week or two of that developing he’d become her boyfriend, but their paths had crossed long before that. Not necessarily for the two of them physically, but in the appearance of another whom she was eternally grateful for.
- - - - - - - - - -
He’d taken great risk, as the rain pelted down her face and the strong grip of the man in front of her pulled her along. She hadn’t been able to pack much, for one if she had it would’ve been hard to move and for another. . . it would’ve given way to her plan. It was described as a simple trip to temple to pray, and just as she was leaving the compound he’d met her outside, ushered her along and she wasn’t allowed to look back. She had spent the evening praying to Ganesh (the elephant-faced deity) for wisdom and to remove all obstacles and like an answer to her prayers, he’d been there.
Dressed in his military green, it was a familiar color she’d grown accustomed to and his eyes were a set that had become all too memorable to her, not because of him, but because of how much they looked like Rhett’s. This man had come to her several months ago and spoke with her, you could automatically tell that he was an American and that he was in some type of organization beyond that. He was tall, broad shouldered, deep-set eyes, and simply stood stoically enough to match the part of what one would call a soldier. He reminded her of her father, blessed be his spirit. Nevertheless, she was reluctant to help him other than to teach him the customs of her country, and help him to blend in to their society. That was before she had been chosen by one that many would’ve deemed the Prince of Mumbai, Rajan Ibrahim. Unfortunately, Ibrahim’s family and their ties to India’s most notorious crime syndicate along with her mother’s need to marry her off for their family’s welfare meant that Qiyara didn’t have much choice when it came to the selection process. The process had been much like she imagined the Hunger Games to be, in that once her name had been drawn she virtually had no choice. She was young, pretty, and vivacious, and even by the slums standards she was well taken care of. Virtually the perfect choice. At first she had been okay with it, it promised her family wealth and with the absence of her father who had passed away years before, it was something they needed greatly. To get away from the poverty that persisted in her city. It seemed too good to be true and it was. Within the first month she learned of just who Rajan was and his family name shown to be exactly what the rumors had made of it. Illegal Drug Trade, Weapons Trafficking, and even bombings on the streets of her beloved city. It was too much for her to take and as she tried to back out, to convince her mother that surely there was someone else worthy, it was too late to turn away.
Somehow this man who was helping her today, knew about the plans and had deeper knowledge of Ibrahim’s outfit than she did. He told her just how bad of a man he really was and had promised her a way out. At first, she thought she was selfish for wanting to leave, knowing what it meant for her family, but she knew deep down that her father wouldn’t have allowed her to be a party to this, she knew he wouldn’t want their financial security this way and she vowed that once she was away, her family would have their needs met.
But as he led her through the rainy streets of mumbai that day, she only had him to be grateful for. As they approached the taxi cab that would then lead them to the airport she stared at a passport that he handed her, her picture and even her last name were the same, but something completely different read in the script.
Man: “I know this is happening suddenly, but I’ve made all the arrangements, Raj has found out about you helping me, I didn’t really see a better time than now.”
She felt confused about what he was saying, looking behind the passport to see a clutch like purse with a great deal of money tucked away, it made her furrow her brow and almost not accept it but he held his hand up.
Man: “Kehlani, you are in danger, if you go back there he will kill you. I will make sure nothing happens to you or your family. I’ve already spoken to your brother Vihaan in Thailand, he will be awaiting your arrival.”
She nodded and grew silent as they passed through the streets of the only home she’d ever known, despite only knowing him for a short period of time he’d given her the opportunity to be free again and that was always something she would never be able to repay him for. As the next hour or so passed, he accompanied her from the cab and paid the driver handsomely for what she imagined was his silence, before walking her inside.
Qiyara: “I’m uncertain of how I can ever repay you.”
He offered a brief smile and then led her to her terminal without so much of a word.
Man: “I wouldn’t say you owe me much of anything, you’re giving up your home and your life over a situation you couldn’t avoid. I purposefully ran from mine and now I can’t seem to get back.”
She stared at him curiously.
Man: “I know it is big within your customs to repay all debts, so I’ll say if you don’t hear from me soon, that I only have one request. I want you to find my brother Rhett, and tell him what happened.”
You simply nodded unsure or rather unaware of what he meant by what could possibly happen. You imagined he would be leaving too at the same time as you but even as he nestled you away on the plane and you soon after drifted off into sleep, by the time you awoke he was missing. You’d learned since then that his name was Rhys, and he had been the answer Ganesh given to your prayers, and his debt was one you would forever be working to repay.
- - - - - - - - - -
The Flight had been a long one and despite her best attempts at pretending she was getting used to the traveling she still had her doubts. All the times she’d heard of planes going down in the middle of nowhere, the disappearance of people who would never be heard from again, it all resonated a little too close to home, but it was a necessary evil unfortunately. She’d had the unfortunate weight of knowing too many people who had gone missing for one reason or another and one of those people is what brought her to her destination today.Las Vegas, Nevada. She’d never seen such a beautiful sight and truthfully, had she not been on a personal mission of sorts she would’ve taken more time to appreciate all of the scenery, it certainly beat the slums of Mumbai. . . but the same person she was going to meet was also the relative of the person who was responsible for her escaping her fate and while she had very much to thank him for unfortunately she’d never gotten the chance as he’d gone missing shortly after coming to her aid.
It was scary to think that she was possibly the reason for his disappearance and she felt this was the only way that she could get to the conclusion of what actually happened to him. It took some time to contact his brother, truthfully, she wasn’t even sure that he would believe her and while there was little to no doubt that he might, she was also not someone to consider a damsel by any use of the word, and he would listen to her. . . she would make him.
Philandering her way through the crowd of the overly packed restaurant she searched idly for the face of the man she was to meet. Dressed appropriately, she’d donned the most expensive dress she owned, a golden, beaded fringe piece with shoes to match giving off the appearance of something much more expensive than she actually was. Wearing minimal accessories of a golden chain around her neck and her hair styled straight with a simple part, she drifted over to a table wondering if maybe he hadn’t arrived just yet or perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all. Finding herself being seated alone she measured a nice smile to the waiter who attended her only splurging for a water as she awaited for the arrival of her guest, her stomach churned as she was a bottle of nerves.
Rhett saw Qiyara before she could see him. He had on a plain white shirt, blue jeans and a pair of the latest Jordan’s. He made his way over to her table and her eyes finally caught his. Rhett offered a wave and a slight smile, but through the smile, it was obvious he was nervous to meet one of the last people who saw his brother, Rhys, alive. Rhett finally made it to the table and almost went in for a hug before extending his hand for a handshake and then sitting down across from Qiyara,
Rhett Adelson: “Hey! It’s good to finally meet! Sorry if I kept you waiting long, traffic was kind of crazy.”
There was a faint recognition of him as he came into view and his mannerisms certainly helped to ease her mind, although there was a misconnect with their body language and he went from what she imagined was a hug to a shake of the hand. She wasn’t sure about these mannerisms in fact she wasn’t sure of much really considering the cultural differences, but she at least knew of customary greetings and returned his gesture wholesomely.
Qiyara Singh: “Nice to meet you as well, you look a lot like him you know.”
She paused momentarily not sure that was the best opening line to go with, but it was enough of one to get her to relax as she motioned for him to sit down.
Qiyara Singh: Its okay. You should see the traffic in Mumbai, you would think nothing of this.
There was a brief glimpse of a smile when it came to her homeland, though it would fade rather quickly considering the things she’d left behind there. A sordid history she wasn’t able to get into just yet or one that she’d rather not. She fidgeted momentarily sliding a loose strand of her hair behind her ear she was able to lock focus with him and smile once again as she brought herself back to the forefront of the conversation and out of the pit of her mind.
Qiyara Singh: I appreciate you meeting me considering. . .
She paused again taking a moment to consider her words carefully.
Qiyara Singh: I’m sure you’ve had many people wanting to offer you assistance. I’m not sure what help I might be, but perhaps . . .
She dwindled off into her mind once more, thinking back to the last time she’d seen him, Rhys. . . the American Marine who’d basically given her a get-away ticket. She’d taken the passport, all of the necessary information, and gotten out before she could even turn back. The last feint image of him walking off into the distance. Rhett let out a slight sigh before he shook his head, as there hasn’t been anyone who’s reached out to him in years.
Rhett Adelson: There’s nobody anymore, Qiyara. Everyone has given up, even my parents. It almost feels like I’m the last person on earth who still believes my brother is out there somewhere, alive and needing help. I can’t give up on him.
Rhett shook his head once more as he thought about his older brother, the man he looked up to his entire life, the only person who could ever go to for advice when he needed it. Rhett looked up into Qiyara’s eyes and shrugged.
Rhett Adelson: I don’t know where to look. I’ve used up all of my money that I’ve earned wrestling to try and get answers but every time I thought I had an answer, it led to nothing. So, now it looks like I’m going to have to get back in the ring soon, to be honest.
Rhett chuckled to himself for a moment, realizing that he was rambling on.
Rhett Adelson: Sorry, I should probably let you talk, since you’re the one who might have some kind of valuable information. All I have is dead ends and dead memories I’ve been holding onto.
As he looked into her eyes, she could only purse her lips together further, she’d gone from facial expressions of thought to something more sincere, holding his gaze for longer than she intended to. She empathized with him truly, considering her brother too had disappeared some time ago, though she knew there was no hope for him. Rayhan had been the light in her dark world for a long time and taught her things that she wasn’t even entitled to know truly. Things that women in India weren’t supposed to be taught. Though times were changing her family for one still held onto a more patriarchal structure until her papa had passed away, and then that left them all sort of squandering in the slums, her mother barely able to scrape by selling cloth.
As he responded to her she gave that same empathetic smile before she nodded.
Qiyara Singh: I am not certain that I can promise much.
She said this with a light laugh one that still held the tiniest amount of Southern India in her accent as she looked at him, eyes glowing like warm cinnamon she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
Qiyara Singh: There were some people he helped me escape from, back in Mumbai. They’re very bad people.
She emphasized, truthfully she was supposed to have been married to one of them, but a long list of craziness had led her here, her name had changed from Kehlani to Qiyara as had her entire life, but she’d never forgotten the man who helped her escape it all.
Qiyara Singh: They have ties with militant groups, Russia, the Taliban. . . the list goes on.
She stopped briefly now not really sure she should encourage going after these people. She knew what it was like to miss your sibling and to also need answers, but she was also worried what this information might encourage him to do.
Qiyara Singh: I’m not certain that they did anything to him, but it was just before you told me he went missing.
She reached outwardly in an effort to grab his hand though she didn’t realize the implication of such an action.
Qiyara Singh: These are not the type of people you can take down . . . at least not alone.
She thought of her family then and the number of ways she would bend over backwards to try and save them, to help them escape from the slums of India, she knew it wouldn’t be easy to deter him from choosing a similar path to her own. She’d worked on her diction to lose some of the accent she had when speaking English, and had even been training in multiple principles of martial arts, luckily she’d not lost any teeth yet nor had she been knocked in the face too many times, but she was managing to at least scrape by.
Rhett seemed a bit shocked as Qiyara finished speaking about the entire situation. She could see him mouth the words, “Taliban” and “Russia”, it’s obvious he had no clue how deep into things his brother truly may have been. Rhett finally let out a sigh and shook his head.
Rhett Adelson: I can’t give up on my brother. I need answers, I need to find out what happened and whether he’s dead or alive. If I have to do it alone? Then so be it.
Rhett grabbed Qiyara’s hand and forced a smile.
Rhett Adelson: I appreciate the information, Qiyara, I really do. But there’s no need for you to put yourself into harm's way again. My brother helped you escape that mess and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you too.
Rhett paused for a moment and shrugged his shoulder before he squeezed Qiyara’s hand.
Rhett Adelson: At the end of the day? You’re kind of all I have left when it comes to my brother. Not only were you one of the last people to see him, but you were the last person he helped. I can’t let that go to waste because I’m on some wild goose chase.
She took a moment to listen to him before shaking her head softly, there was a look of concern in her expression, but also that hint of stubbornness that sometimes made her eyes turn a different shade, almost to the color of Jade.
Qiyara Singh: You are under the impression that I was asking.
She lightly reached her other hand across the table to pat the top of his. There was always that hint of rebellion in her, though she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of going back into that situation, she had to admit the odds against Rhett were much too great. She knew her country, knew these men and who to contact there, she knew the various locations of their hide outs. As a former insider she had more information than she could truly ever volunteer, because where she came from or at least the situation she’d come from . . . information kept you alive.
Qiyara Singh: I won’t be responsible for another Adelson going missing. . . or worse.
Her smile was polite, but her mannerisms were also finite.
Qiyara Singh: I won’t try to stop you from doing what you need to, but I’m certainly not going to let you do it alone either, that’d be reckless and irresponsible.
She paused momentarily, thinking about her situation, about everything that was happening around the both of them. She’d been working nights at an Indian restaurant collecting tips, she’d used what little money she had to travel from there to here, staying with some of her distant relatives that had moved here years ago, it had been enough for her to get by but she knew if she were going to help him. . .if she were really going to make a difference she was going to have to do something more, something with a little more reward.
Qiyara Singh: Getting back in the ring?
She questioned now taking her hand away, her hair dropping over her shoulder halfway, as she rested her hand into her chin. She had some experience with fights, she’d done a few kickboxing matches for extra money back in Thailand, before she’d come here and truly she had enjoyed herself until she’d almost broken her jaw. After that she’d had to caution herself, but she had seen the type of moves they performed, they were liquid in motion and while the aspect of being injured was there, the sport wasn’t necessarily meant for knock out purposes which offered it a little less of a dangerous aspect.
Qiyara Singh: Could you teach me?
She questioned now with curiosity growing in her eyes. She wasn’t sure how else to word the phrase.
Rhett furrowed his brow and tilted his head as he looked at Qiyara. He was surprised that she wanted to get in the ring but he wasn’t going to turn her down either. While Rhett may be a wrestler, he’s also spent a good portion of this last year as a trainer at Nightfall. He eventually leaned forward over the table, keeping his eyes on Qiyara.
Rhett Adelson: If you’re truly serious about it, then yeah, I can. As soon as you’re ready to get started, I’ll get you settled in at Nightfall. But just to get an early start right now, is there any fighting styles or techniques that you have a background in? I only ask just so I know you’ll end up being with the right teachers at the gym.
There was a brief glimpse in her eyes as she smiled and nodded.
Qiyara Singh: My brother was a wrestler. . . not the same type as you. He did Pehlwani, they’re forced into camp and basically spend all of their time training, very similar to gladiators if I can think of an accurate example.
She paused thinking of her brother Rayhan, she wouldn’t mention his death as a cause his career, but instead elected to glimpse over it.
Qiyara Singh: I learned some from him. . . I’m not certain it would apply here, but I've also trained in Muay Thai, Kickboxing, and self-defense. India can be a cruel country, a woman has to be prepared.
That statement was too true, even though she very much enjoyed her homeland, there was also a lot of injustice when it came to how society was treated, much like the Arab world and other places where women weren’t always regarded so highly, she wouldn’t say that she suffered much because of it due to her family’s rather unique beliefs, but there were still some old world traditionalist who believed in the old way of life. Rhett listened to her intently, nodding along as she finished talking.
Rhett Adelson: While all of that isn’t wrestling, it’s still a plethora of fighting styles that you can translate into the ring, so you have a head start over most people who seek out being a wrestler. But I will make sure you’re ready for this.
Rhett nodded his head confidently as he paused for a moment, thinking about eventually training Qiyara. While he’s been helping train people at Nightfall, he hasn’t taken anyone under his wing yet. Not because he can’t, but simply because of the responsibility that comes with it. After a few seconds, he finally speaks up again.
Rhett Adelson: While the world here in the states isn’t as cruel as it can be where you’re from, it can be extremely cruel inside of the ring. People will want to break you and end your career because you’re trying to take their spot, their livelihood. Wrestling isn’t just knowing what moves to do but it’s also a mind game. Psychology is the most important part and if you stick by me? I’ll make sure you get that part down to where nobody will take you by surprise.
She took a moment to think about what he was saying and she nodded along as he let her in on the keen elements of American Wrestling. Maybe she didn’t understand everything, but this was the point of her asking, it was the point of their entire conversation truthfully, this was the only way she would be able to help him find his brother and perhaps even build her livelihood.
Qiyara Singh: I would be very grateful.
She admitted truthfully giving another soft smile as she stared at him. It was strange to think that some time ago he was a stranger to her along with his brother, and yet unlike anyone else they’d helped her so much to get as far as she had.
Qiyara Singh: I know a thing or two about that, but I am certainly open to learning more.
She acknowledged, in essence to someone’s livelihood to the psychology behind the sport. It had many parallels in comparison. Everyone wanted to be the best.
Qiyara Singh: When should we get started?
Rhett smiled at her reply, as he could tell she wanted to get started right away. He then shrugged his shoulders and replied.
Rhett Adelson: Tomorrow! But you’ll be studying and watching what’s going on in the gym. It’ll show you how it all works, while also giving you the idea of what teachers you want to learn from based on their particular skills that they teach. Then we can get you started the day after and I’ll be there to help you every stop of the way, alright?
Rhett’s tone was sincere and he wanted to give off the vibe that he wasn’t doing this for Qiyara because she could be the key to finding out what happened to his brother. No, Rhett wanted to help Qiyara train because he could tell she was a good person who was willing to learn and give her absolute best.
- - - - - - - - - -
The moments that led to where they were now, were still plenty ahead, but from the training and the work they put in together, there was also their personal quest. Finding out what happened to Rhett’s brother, Even investigating the disappearance of one of her own, and perhaps even making Qiyara face a couple of demons she wasn’t quite ready to face yet.
To be Continued