Our final match of the tour brought us back to the Orlando Performance Center. For the first time inAftershockhistory, the place was sold out. They were here to see not just the final date of the summer tour, but to see Cal and I give it our all.
And to top it all off, Rob Harlow was backstage to watch us. Cal and I knew this was the final size up. This would determine what our meeting would look like in just a few days, if it would be a conversation on what we needed to do better, or if this was the official call up. This match would make or break that ruling. And we knew it.
“You ready for this?” I said to Cal as we walked into Gorilla position. The cheers and roars of the crowd waiting for the main event felt like they were shaking the foundation of the building.
Cal nodded, cracking his neck. “Try to make me look good,” he said with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes as my music hit. “Centuries”byFall Out Boyfilled the arena, and the screams grew louder as I stepped out. I had never seen a venue more packed; it looked as if they had even sold the venue over capacity.
Cal followed not even sixty seconds later. “Death March” byMotionless In Whiteblared, and the crowd screamed for him in a different way, a way that felt more electric than it was for myself.
We locked eyes as we stood in our own corners of the ring. This was it. We didn’t have to say it. We didn’t have to communicate to know that this moment right here would change it all.
The ref nodded to me, then to Cal.
The bell rang.
We locked up immediately, the impact of our bodies echoing. Then let go. Then back again. Cal threw me into a headlock; I countered. Our pace quickened. Thrown into turnbuckles, maneuvers off the ropes. I even did a catapult move off the ropes to which Cal caught me midair, slamming me down into the mat with a force that rattled my teeth.
Somewhere in between, we rolled out of the ring onto the mats around us. I flung Cal into a barricade and got a running start, landing a clothesline that sent us both tumbling into the crowd. I was the first to my feet, dragging Cal back toward the ring. He began to fight me, laying in stiff shots to my ribs before I overpowered him.
We’d planned a move for weeks for this. I cleared the table, shoving monitors aside. I pulled Cal to his feet.
“You ready?” I whispered, ducking my face so only he could hear.
He tapped me with a swiftness, a signal nobody else would see.
I tossed him onto the table. He sprawled out, acting dazed. I ran back to the ring and climbed the top rope. The fans knew what I was thinking, and my nerves hit me. I’ve done my finisher a million times, but never from this distance. I looked down at Cal, thinking of everything that could go wrong, but knowing we’d made sure it wouldn’t.
In a split second, I let fear go. I hit my finisher, The Transcendence, a spinning corkscrew Senton bomb.
The world blurred into a rotation of lights and faces. I landed the move perfectly, and the table collapsed with us instantly in a crash of plastic and metal. Cal tapped me to let me know he was alright, and I rolled off him in agony, clutching my back. I inevitably pulled him back into the ring and went for the pin.
“One… Two…”
The crowd screamed. Cal kicked out. Nobody could believe it. I made myself look as shocked and overwhelmed as possible, running a hand through my hair. I pulled Cal to his feet to try and wear him down more, except he countered. He laid into me with energy nobody saw him regaining. He was wearing me down, and the crowd was going wild.
After twenty-seven minutes of war, it was time for the ending.
It was time for The Deadlock.
Cal’s alternate finisher looked brutal to the fans and beyond technically impressive to the locker room. He hadn’t used it in the ring before, favoring hisLockOutrunning spear from the corner.The Deadlockwas a snap trap crossface that turned into a rolling choke, swiftly transitioned into a body scissor dragon sleeper. It happened so quickly, you almost missed it.
This was it. The moment that would set this match ablaze. We locked in. The pressure on my neck was real, the air cutting off. Instead of tapping out, I let my eyes roll back. Giving the illusion that I had passed out.
The bell rang. The ref pulled Cal off me. I acted lifeless on the ground as paramedics ran up. Their whispers were barely audible, praising the match and checking that I was actually okay. Which, of course, I was. I knew I would be.
“And here’s your winner… Deadlock!” yelled the ring announcer.
The paramedics went through the theatrics, putting me on a stretcher, making it look like I was far worse than I technically would be. The crowd devoured every moment. Fans were screaming at a blood curdling volume, and I knew Cal was soaking up every damn minute of this.
We did it. I knew we did. We cemented our spot onMonday Night Showdown. There was no question about it.
The paramedics rolled me into Gorilla, and I hopped off the stretcher with ease, being greeted with nothing but applause and compliments on the grueling match Cal and I just put on. Cal walked through Gorilla a moment later, sweat dripping from his hair, his chest heaving. Our eyes locked briefly as others paid him the same respect they gave to me. He seemed unimpressed anytime others commented on how good he was, or how strong his abilities were. But when we talked, and I made similar comments, he never seemed to mind them. I guess the level of comfort with one another just made that better for him.
I walked over to Cal and patted his shoulder. He was attempting, and very much failing, to escape the tight quarters of the Gorilla position, but he didn’t seem to care about me stopping him. At least, he didn’t act like he did.
People walked around us, some saying congratulations on what we all knew was about to come.
