Becoming A Wrestler

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The next Monday, FCW's live television broadcast opened with a tense promo segment that would set the Faction storyline where it would set the direction of the story slowly to the six man tag tea match, and then slowly War Games. The arena lights dimmed as Creed's entrance music hit, the crowd erupting into boos. He sauntered to the ring with a smug grin, Drew and Stu flanking him, their matching Empire jackets glinting under the spotlights.

Grabbing a mic, Creed began, his voice dripping with venom. "Last week, we showed you what the Empire is all about. Taylor, Sandro, Kofi, the three of you felt it firsthand. The beating we gave you wasn't just a statement; it was a promise. This is our time. But Taylor, I've been waiting for this moment, face-to-face, to finally say what's been eating at me."

He paused, pacing the ring as the crowd booed louder. "What does it take to succeed in wrestling? Relationships. Connections. I've been in this business long enough to see it. I've trained harder, bled more, and sacrificed everything, yet every federation I've been in favors the second and third-generation stars. My crime? Not belonging to a dynasty."

The crowd stirred, the tension palpable as Creed continued, his voice rising with emotion. "When I came to FCW, I thought it was finally my chance. But history repeats itself. They put you, a third-generation wrestler, on a pedestal, someone who's done nothing to earn it. It disgusts me to watch everyone grovel at your feet like you're royalty giving you opportunity after opportunity to showcase yourselves."

Creed stepped closer to the ropes, pointing toward the stage. "Then Stu and Drew opened my eyes. They showed me another way to make a name: not by playing politics, but by using my fists and dominating everyone in my path. Call me a sellout or a coward, but I'll never accept this business' favoritism. I'm fighting for survival, while you sit in your ivory tower, ignorant of the real struggle of us who started from down or the streets."

After Creed's words fell down, Taylor's entrance music blared through the arena and the crowd roared when they heard his music. He stormed out, mic in hand, with Sandro and Kofi by his side. The three of them stood at the top of the ramp, their expressions steely as Taylor raised the mic to his lips.

"You're not wrong, Creed," Taylor began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. "Being from a wrestling family opens doors. But it's no gift I tell you, it's a curse or a shackle. People don't see me as Taylor who wanted to learn, they see a Rotunda. The expectations are crushing. Anything less than perfection is failure, and there's no room for weakness."

He took a few steps closer to the ring, his gaze locked on Creed. "You think I have friends? Most people just want to use the family name. And when I lost to you the first time and then kept losing to you, I started doubting myself. Am I weak? Just average? I don't even know my real level because I keep comparing myself to my family's impossible legacy."

The crowd quieted as Taylor's voice grew more vulnerable. "I'll admit, even Sandro and Kofi made me doubt. Were they with me because of my name, or did they see me for who I am? Turns out, they see me as myself, teaching me the ropes, and that's why I trust them. I hope it's the same for you and the Empire."

He paused, his tone hardening. "But make no mistake, Creed. I'd fight in hell for the both of them… even if it's for people like you, Drew, and Stu who still don't get it."

Creed smirked, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps doubt, perhaps respect. Before he could respond, Sandro raised his mic, stepping forward. "Creed, you're good at talking, with those two backing you from the back. But let's see if your fists can do the same when the three of you will face the three of us on a six man tag team match next Monday!"

The crowd exploded at the mention of the six man tag team match, chants of "This Is Awesome!" filling the arena. Creed chuckled darkly, stepping back to rejoin Drew and Stu. "Careful what you wish for, Sandro. You might just sign the death warrant for the three of you."

The tension in the arena reached a fever pitch as Taylor took another step toward the ring, his fists clenched and his jaw set hearing the arrogant words that Creed had just said.

The crowd roared with anticipation, chanting louder and louder, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Sensing Taylor's boiling anger, Creed smirked and mockingly dropped his microphone, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome the impending fight. Drew and Stu followed his lead, gesturing for Taylor to come into the ring.

The scene was electric, fans on the edge of their seats as Taylor's rage threatened to boil over. Before he could charge forward, Sandro stepped in front of him, placing a firm hand on his chest. "Not now," Sandro said, his voice calm but commanding. "Save it for next week. Don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you lose control."

Kofi chimed in, his tone equally measured. "Yeah, man, don't play their game. Creed wants you to rush in, but we're smarter than that. We'll take them out when it counts."

Taylor looked at his two teammates and mentors, his breaths heavy as he fought to rein in his anger. Slowly, he nodded, taking a step back but never breaking eye contact with Creed. The crowd, sensing the restraint, booed lightly, wanting the fight to break out right then and there, turning the whole arena upside down.

The tension was cut short as Steve's entrance music hit, drawing an eruption of cheers from the crowd. The head booker of FCW walked out onto the stage, a microphone in hand and an air of authority surrounding him. His presence immediately commanded attention, the chants dying down as fans anticipated what he had to say.

Steve stopped midway down the ramp, surveying the scene before him. On one side, Creed, Drew, and Stu stood in the ring, looking smug and defiant. On the other, Taylor, Sandro, and Kofi stood united at the top of the ramp, their energy controlled but no less intense.

"Good evening, FCW Universe!" Steve began, his voice booming over the sound system, eliciting another cheer from the crowd. "Now, I've been watching this unfold backstage, and I gotta say, the smell of smoke is in the air because there's a war brewing right here in FCW!"

The crowd erupted into cheers again, fully invested in the rivalry playing out before them.

Steve turned toward the ring, pointing at Creed and his faction. "Creed, Drew, Stu, you three talk a big game. And you've proven you can back it up. Last week, the three of you made a statement. But tonight, it's clear you're itching for more."

Then he shifted his attention to the ramp. "And Taylor, Sandro, Kofi, I see the fire in your eyes. You're ready to take this fight to the next level. So here's what we're gonna do: Next week, on FCW Live, we're making it official. It'll be a six-man tag team match: Creed and The Empire versus Taylor and the tag team champions Dragon Boom!"

The crowd exploded at the announcement, chants of "This is awesome!" echoing throughout the arena.

Steve wasn't done. "But here's the deal gentleman, this isn't just about settling scores. This is about proving who truly runs FCW. So you better bring your A-game, because the whole world is watching!"

In the ring, Creed's confident smirk faltered, replaced by a look of annoyance. Drew and Stu exchanged uncertain glances, clearly unhappy with the announcement. Meanwhile, on the ramp, Taylor, Sandro, and Kofi huddled together, nodding and hyping each other up. Their resolve was clear: they were ready for war.

Steve wasn't finished yet. "Oh, and Creed?" Steve added, turning back toward the ring. "You think FCW favors second and third-generation talent? Here's your chance to prove you're more than just words. Let's see if you can hang with the best."

The crowd erupted again, a mix of cheers and jeers directed at Creed, who grabbed a mic from the mat. "You think this scares us, Steve?" Creed sneered, stepping to the ropes. "Next week, we'll show you why the Empire isn't just a faction—it's a revolution."

Taylor raised his mic one last time. "Creed, Drew, Stu, the three of you get ready. Because next week, the Empire falls and will never rise again."

The crowd roared as Taylor's music hit, signaling the end of the segment. The camera lingered on both teams, the animosity between them palpable. The match was set, and the stakes couldn't have been higher.

After returning to the backstage, the fans thought that the show would end tonight as they thought the promo segment just now was the end of the show, but they were surprised by the titantron that suddenly changed to the backstage area which showcased a segment for them.

The camera was on the Empire's locker room, focused on Creed, Stu, and Drew who were still fuming, the arrogance they displayed in the ring now underpinned by frustration. Creed leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw tight as Drew paced the room.

"This isn't just about Taylor, Sandro, and Kofi," Drew muttered, his voice low but filled with tension. "This is about Steve trying to humiliate us."

Creed scoffed, his voice cutting through the tension. "Let him try. Steve's just another suit who doesn't understand what we're building. We're not just a faction. We're the future of FCW."

Stu sat on the bench, his confidence unshaken. "They can chant all they want, call us cowards, but we've proven our dominance before, and next week won't be any different. Taylor's riding on legacy fumes, and Sandro and Kofi are only as good as their last win. Let's remind them who runs this place."

Drew wasn't convinced. "I'm just saying, we shouldn't underestimate them. They've been working as a unit longer than we have. And Sandro and Kofi? They're not just good; they're champions."

Creed stood up straight, his voice sharp. "That's exactly why we're going to crush them. We're not just going to win; we're going to dismantle them piece by piece. By the end of next week, FCW will have no choice but to recognize the Empire as its future."

The arrogance of Creed's words only fueled the boos from fans in the arena who were still watching the segment on the titantron. For the fans at home, the disdain for the Empire spilled into live chats and social media threads. The Empire's overconfidence struck a nerve, especially given Sandro and Kofi's track record of defeating them in the past.

Meanwhile, in their locker room, Taylor, Sandro, and Kofi were winding down from the adrenaline of the night. They sat in a loose circle, each man deep in thought.

"That was good tonight," Kofi said, breaking the silence. "The crowd's with us, and Creed's finally starting to crack. Did you see how defensive he got when Steve made the match official?"

Sandro nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "He's feeling the pressure. They're all feeling it. But we can't rely on their mistakes. We need to focus on what we do best."

Taylor looked up, his face serious. "I've been thinking about next week. It's more than just a match. It's about proving I'm not just here because of my name. I need this win."

Sandro placed a hand on Taylor's shoulder, his voice steady. "You've got nothing to prove, Taylor. You've earned your spot. Next week isn't about your past; it's about us, as a team, showing we're stronger together."

Kofi grinned, his easy demeanor lightening the mood. "And don't forget, we've got the crowd. Creed may talk a big game, but when we step into that ring, the fans will have our backs." The three men shared a moment of camaraderie, their bond solidified as they prepared for the challenge ahead.

As the show ended, the online wrestling community exploded with chatter. On FCW's official forums, threads dedicated to the upcoming six-man tag match quickly became the most popular topic. Fans debated the strengths and weaknesses of both teams, dissecting every promo and match from the past few weeks.

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 19 (2009)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions