Becoming A Wrestler

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"I mean," Sandro said, tossing his championship onto a nearby bench, "you three need to step it up if you want to get to the next level. And lucky for you, I just happen to have some free time."

Alexis crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? You sure you wanna go another round after that war you had last night?"

Sandro smirked. "Trust me, I'm good. The question is, are you?"

Ashley rolled her shoulders. "Let's find out."

Before they could step into the ring, Windham and Taylor walked over, having overheard the conversation.

"What's going on here?" Taylor asked, intrigued.

"Extra training," Sandro said. "These three think they're ready for the big time training, so I figured we'd put that to the test."

Windham smirked. "Sounds fun. Mind if we join in?"

Sandro gestured toward the ring. "More the merrier."

With that, the six of them climbed into the ring, setting the stage for an intense training session.

Sandro started off by running them through advanced drills, faster paced chain wrestling, quicker counters, and more complex sequences that tested their timing and ability to think on the fly. He wanted to push them beyond the basics, beyond their comfort zones.

Ettore's power was undeniable, but Sandro focused on helping him refine it. "You're strong, yeah, but strength without control? That's wasted energy," Sandro told him. "Don't just throw your weight around, make every move count."

Ettore nodded, adjusting his approach. Instead of just overpowering his training partners, he started to control his movements more deliberately, making sure his strength had precision.

With Alexis, Sandro emphasized speed and impact. "You're small," he said bluntly, "so you need to make up for it with agility and explosiveness." He had her work on reaction, speed, quick evasions, and counters that played to her size.

Ashley, already an athlete thanks to her family background, was a natural in the ring. But Sandro pushed her on psychology, how to command the ring, how to control a match's pace. "You're Ric Flair's daughter," he told her, "but you gotta be more than that. Don't wrestle like you have something to prove. Wrestle like you already belong."

Windham and Taylor, though more experienced, jumped in to help guide their training partners, adding their own insights. Windham, fully embracing his 'Bray Wyatt' mentality, gave tips on character work. "Moves are just moves unless you make them mean something," he told Alexis and Ettore. "Every time you hit a move, make sure the crowd feels it."

Taylor, on the other hand, helped keep the session lighthearted but competitive, cracking jokes in between drills. "C'mon, Ewen, you can't be that big and still let Alexis dodge you like that."

Ettore shot him a playful glare. "Oh, you wanna take a spear next?"

Taylor grinned. "Not a chance."

After over an hour of intense training, Sandro decided to end with a challenge, a mini-gauntlet match where each of them would have to go one-on-one with him for two minutes straight. No breaks, no easy outs. Just survival.

Alexis went first, using her speed to try and outmaneuver Sandro, but he kept cutting off the ring, forcing her into tough positions. She landed a few sharp kicks, but he eventually caught her in a counter and took her down.

Ashley followed, showing off her growing technical skills, but Sandro tested her ability to adapt. "You can chain wrestle, sure," he said mid match, "but what happens when the plan falls apart?" He threw in unpredictable counters, making her think on her feet.

Windham and Taylor had their turns, but neither could outlast him.

Then it was Ettore's turn.

From the moment the bell rang, the energy shifted. Ettore came at Sandro full force, and for the first time, Sandro had to brace himself. Ettore wasn't just reacting anymore, he was asserting himself. He wasn't hesitating.

Sandro grinned mid-match. That's more like it.

Ettore pressed forward, showing that he had absorbed everything he learned that day. He didn't just rely on his strength; he timed his movements, and controlled his bursts of power.

The two-minute mark hit, and Sandro called it.

"That's enough," he said, breathing heavier than before. "That's what I wanted to see."

Ettore grinned, wiping sweat from his face. "Yeah?"

Sandro clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah. You're getting it."

He looked around at the rest of the group.

"All of you are."

As they all climbed out of the ring, exhausted but satisfied, Sandro glanced at them and smirked.

"You keep training like this," he said, "and one day, you won't just be part of this business, you'll run it."

Ettore, Alexis, Ashley, Windham, and Taylor all exchanged looks, the weight of those words sinking in. Sandro nodded. He had seen the future, and it was standing right in front of him, and from his past life he knew that each of them was going to leave a legacy.

As Sandro left the training area, still buzzing from the session, he made his way toward the parking lot, eager to finally get some rest. But before he could step outside, he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"Sandro! Hold up, kid."

He turned to see Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn approaching, both of them looking pleased to have caught him before he left. Sandro could tell by their expressions that this wasn't just a casual conversation, they had something important on their minds.

"Man, I was just about to head out," Sandro said with a smirk. "Y'all got a new drill for me or what?"

Dusty chuckled, shaking his head. "Not quite, son. We have been meanin' to talk to ya about somethin' real important. Got a minute?"

Sandro nodded. "For you two? Always."

Steve clapped him on the back. "Good, 'cause this ain't just any conversation. Let's take this to Dusty's office, a bit more private."

That caught Sandro's attention. He knew if Dusty and Steve were pulling him into a closed door discussion, it had to be something serious. He followed them through the hallways of FCW, exchanging nods with passing trainees, until they reached Dusty's office. Once inside, Dusty closed the door, gesturing for Sandro to take a seat.

Steve leaned against the desk while Dusty settled into his chair. "Alright, Sandro," Dusty began, resting his arms on the desk, "you remember that little midcard title idea we were workin' on?"

Sandro nodded immediately. "Yeah. You guys finally got the green light?"

Dusty grinned. "Sure did. Steph and the office folks gave us the thumbs up. FCW's gonna have its own midcard championship."

Sandro's eyes lit up. He knew how important this would be for FCW. A midcard title would give rising talent something to fight for, something to elevate them before they moved up the ladder.

"That's huge," he said. "You got plans on how to introduce it?"

Steve nodded. "We do. I have a few ideas for how we wanna crown the first champion. But we're stuck on somethin'."

Dusty leaned in. "The name."

Sandro arched a brow. "The name?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "Dusty and I been goin' back and forth on it, and we just can't seem to land on one we both love. So, we figured why not ask the guy who's got the best instincts in this place?"

Sandro blinked, taken aback. "You're asking me to name FCW's new midcard championship?"

"That's right," Dusty said with a grin. "So, what ya got, kid?"

Sandro exhaled, leaning back in his chair. This wasn't something he wanted to rush. A title's name wasn't just a label, it carried weight and prestige. It had to mean something.

He thought about other midcard titles in history. The Intercontinental Championship. The United States Championship. The Television Championship. But FCW needed something unique, something that stood apart.

Then it hit him. In his past life, when FCW rebranded into NXT, a title was introduced that carried a sense of prestige, something that felt fresh but still had a traditional wrestling aura.

The North American Championship.

Sandro leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What about the FCW North American Championship?"

Dusty's eyebrows lifted slightly. Steve tilted his head, considering it.

"It's got a nice ring to it," Steve admitted.

Sandro continued, "It feels big enough to stand out, but not so grand that it overshadows the Florida Heavyweight Championship. Plus, it connects FCW to a larger scale, it's not just Florida anymore. It represents all of North America, making it feel important from the jump."

Dusty rubbed his chin, clearly liking the idea. "North American Championship…" he muttered, rolling the name around in his mouth. Then he grinned. "Damn, kid, that might be it."

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I like it."

Sandro smirked. "Glad I could help. So, who's gonna be the first champion?"

Dusty and Steve exchanged a look before Dusty turned back to Sandro with a knowing smile. "That's the other thing we wanted to talk to ya about."

Sandro's smirk faded slightly. "Oh?"

Steve folded his arms. "We need someone who can carry this title with legitimacy from day one. Someone who ain't just holdin' it as a prop, but actually makin' it means somethin'. Someone who can put on bangers every night, elevate the title, and help build the next generation."

Dusty leaned in. "We want that someone to be you."

Sandro sat back, a little stunned. "Me?"

"You, kid," Dusty confirmed. "Ain't nobody better suited for the job."

Sandro ran a hand through his hair, processing the offer. Being the first champion meant setting the tone for the belt's entire legacy. It meant being the standard-bearer.

Sandro leaned back in his chair, exhaling as he weighed Dusty and Steve's offer. The idea of holding two titles, of solidifying himself as the face of FCW, was tempting, hell, it was something he had dreamed about. But as much as his ego liked the sound of it, his heart told him otherwise.

This title wasn't about him.

He already held the Florida Heavyweight Championship, the top prize in FCW. He had proven himself as the guy. But this midcard title? It was for the guys who hadn't had their shot yet, for those still clawing their way up.

If he accepted, sure, the title would have instant credibility, but at what cost? It would be just another accolade in his growing list, instead of serving its true purpose: to elevate the next generation.

After a few moments of silence, Sandro finally looked up, meeting Dusty and Steve's expectant gazes.

"Look," he started, running a hand through his hair. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. The fact that you guys believe in me enough to offer this means a lot. But…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I have to say no."

Dusty raised an eyebrow, while Steve shifted slightly, surprised. "No?"

Sandro nodded. "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to hold two belts, I mean, who wouldn't? But this title? It's not for me. It's for the guys who haven't gotten a chance yet, who need that push to show they belong. I already have the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship. I've got my spot. There are others here who need this more than I do."

Dusty and Steve exchanged a glance, clearly not expecting Sandro to turn them down. Most guys would've jumped at the opportunity without a second thought. But Sandro saw the bigger picture, and that only made Dusty respect him even more.

Steve let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Damn, kid. Not a lot of guys in this business would turn down a title run just 'cause they think someone else needs it more."

Dusty grinned, nodding in agreement. "That's what makes Sandro different," he said. "He ain't just lookin' at his own career. He's lookin' at the whole damn business."

Sandro smirked. "Well, someone's gotta."

Steve exhaled, rubbing his chin. "Alright then. If you ain't takin' it, we gotta figure out who should. Maybe a tournament? Or a battle royal? Hell, maybe we get creative and try somethin' else."

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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 & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion