Changing the Player Bonus Scene
Flynn
One month after the Super Bowl
“Arrrghh, you all having a good time tonight?” Jesse Gunn shouts into his microphone as the sold out crowd cheers in response.
“I yam what I yam,” Wyatt Douglas sings his response with a smirk.
“Wait. What?” Jesse looks confused. “Isn’t that what Popeye says?” Both men are dressed like pirates and standing center-ring inside the North Charleston Coliseum.
“Aye, matey,” Wyatt shoots back. “It tis.”
“Wyatt, Wyatt, Wyatt, my friend. Popeye was a sailor man—not a pirate,” Jesse whispers into Wyatt’s ear, and over the microphone.
I’m standing behind the curtains backstage, watching them cut up on a large wall monitor. World Class Wrestling is in town, and it’s a big night in Charleston, and for me.
“Hey, fanboy, who let you back here?” I spin around and find Ronnie Gunn standing behind me. She’s dressed in a Charleston Pirates shirt and not much else.
“Hey, Ronnie. Good to see you. Thanks for having me here tonight.”
“No worries. I’ll see you out there.” Ronnie winks before slipping through the curtain. The crowd erupts in a frenzy of cheers as she walks to the ring.
It’s getting closer to my spot and I can’t believe how nervous I am. I don’t think I was this anxious going into the Super Bowl.
“What are you two doing and why are you wearing those outfits?” Ronnie joins the in-ring fun as soon as she arrives.
“We’re pirates.” Jesse smiles, posing with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Yo-ho,” Wyatt adds as he looks her up and down in an exaggerated manner for the crowd.
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps back with her red lips curved in a devilish grin.
“And what are you wearing?” Jesse teases his sister. The crowd goes wild, hooting and hollering, and then turns silent as Ronnie struts into the center of the ring.
“I’m a Charleston Pirate,” she announces into her mic.
And the crowd jumps to their feet.
“Aye, heard those are the best kind,” Wyatt jokes, keeping up the pirate speak.
“Aye,” Jesse agrees. “Champions they say.” The crowd explodes with it’s approval. “We here at the Gunn Club do like champions,” Jesse continues, slapping the championship belt currently slung over his shoulder.
“We do,” both Ronnie and Wyatt respond as they look down at the gold belts currently strapped around their waists. “We do.”
“You ready?” A production assistant taps me on the shoulder.
“Good to go.” I give her a quick thumbs up.
“Thirty seconds.” She points to the large curtain on my left. I’m sweating profusely and my heart’s rapid beat pulsates inside my chest. I’m itching to get out there and join in on the fun.
“I think I heard something about a football team around here being champions,” Ronnie says, looking to the crowd as if she’s unsure. They call out their love for her. This crowd is crazy about all three of them.
“I might know someone who could confirm that for us.” Jesse smiles wryly. The crowd buzzes with excitement, their heads angling for a clue of what or who’s to come.
“Who?” Ronnie asks.
“Yeah, who?” Wyatt responds.
“Who?” Jesse echoes, his dark eyebrows jumping upward on his forehead.
“Who?” Wyatt shouts, pumping his outstretched arms to get the crowd going.
“Who?” Ronnie sings into the mic and immediately the entire coliseum audience starts chanting it together.
Who? Who? Who?
Suddenly, the sound system blasts the signature Charleston Pirates’ air-horn, followed by one of our stadium’s more popular music selections during home games—“Crazy Train”.
“Wish me luck,” I call back to Nadia, who’s being escorted to the front row so she doesn’t miss any of the action.
“Have fun. You’ve earned it.” She smiles and disappears through a side door with security.
I take a deep breath and feel the adrenaline rush through my veins, just like before a game.
Here we go.
The crowd loses their minds when I step into view wearing an official Gunn Club shirt. I make my way to the ring, playing to and soaking up the energy from the crowd as I go.
I’ve been a lifelong pro wrestling fan and this is all a childhood dream come true. I hope I don’t screw it up.
By the time I reach ringside, I’m amped and ready for action. I run up the stairs quickly and jump over the ropes into the ring.
The first face I notice as I stare down is Nadia’s standing ringside below. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. As much as I dreamt of playing professional football as a kid, I’ve also imagined being in the ring almost as much. Having her here with me to share this makes it complete.
The big moment is here and everything else around me becomes a blur. I exchange banter with Jesse, Wyatt, and Ronnie as we entertain the crowd, all the while I’m thinking, this is the coolest fucking thing ever.
I’m so lost in the moment, I barely remember the words we say. I watch Jesse’s current challenger come to the ring as planned. He’s huge, big enough to play on the Pirates as one of our defensive linemen. The feeling of performing a running swan dive over the top rope to take him out is indescribable, and the fans’ reaction to it is an ear-splitting roar. This crowd is as loud as any of the football fans I’ve ever heard, rivaling even the Super Bowl.
Beaming, I climb to my feet. Wyatt and Ronnie each hold my arms up in the air in celebration. I stand there basking in the audience’s approval. What an awesome feeling.
Wyatt and Ronnie release their hold and Jesse moves closer. “Dude, you killed it. I hope you’re ready for what comes next.” He steps away before I can ask what he means.
My eyes land on Nadia as she slips between the ropes, making it look completely normal, as if it’s something she does every day. And in business attire to boot. I find myself wondering if she has indeed done this before and if so, when?
Tipping my head to the side, I hold still, watching her walk toward me. Her pink glossed lips gently curve in a nervous smile, letting me know she’s anxious. I notice the microphone in her hand and meet her brown eyes with my questioning blue gaze.
She comes to a halt in front of me, and though I’m not sure what’s going on, my need to touch her is overpowering. Catching hold of her hand, I raise it to my lips and press a soft kiss to her skin. “Aww,” the crowd sighs out.
“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing up here.” Nadia stares up at me, speaking into the mic. Smiling crookedly, I nod. “I have something to tell you and I figured now is the perfect opportunity.”
Where is this going?
I have no idea what’s going on right now. Nadia standing in the ring in front of me is surreal. She hates the limelight and gives me crap because I enjoy the attention. In fact, she usually tries to avoid extra attention at all costs. So why is she willingly placing herself in this position?
She crooks her finger and I lean down, placing my ear above her lips. “How do you feel about being a daddy?” she whispers so only I can hear.
I raise my head slightly, arching a brow in question. I’m not sure I understand what she said. “You want me to be your daddy?” I ask, the microphone broadcasting the question to everyone in the building. And the millions of viewers watching from home. The crowd erupts, laughing uproariously.
Fuck me.
Nadia’s eyes bulge outward and her mouth forms a perfect circle, showcasing her surprise.
I guess I misunderstood.
She shakes her head emphatically and a lone giggle slips from her lips. And then another. I bark out an echoing laugh and then we both lose it. We forget where we are and laugh until our stomachs hurt and our eyes are wet with tears.
Nadia raises the mic to her lips, clearing her throat and the crowd goes silent. “No, I don’t want you to be my daddy. The question I asked was, ‘How do you feel about being a daddy’.”
I feel my eyes opening wide, stretching to capacity. “You’re pregnant?”
Eyes welling with happy tears, she nods, smiling. The fans shout out their approval. My gaze lowers to her still flat stomach. My child is growing there? I’m going to be a father. Closing my arms around her, I hold her to my chest and try to swallow past the emotion clogging my throat. “Thank you,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Drawing back, I meet her emotion-filled stare with my own. She’s never looked more beautiful to me. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too,” she replies.
As long as I live, I’ll never get tired of hearing those words or feeling her love. She grounds me in a way that nothing or no one else could. I’m the man I am today because of her. But as much as she’s calmed me down, I’m still me at heart, which is why I bend over the mic and ask, “Does this mean I get to call you Mommy?” The crowd roars with laughter and Nadia’s nose wrinkles with disgust. I press a kiss to the tip of her nose and lean over the microphone once more and whoop, “I’m gonna be a dad.”