Joining TPA, Part 3
The moment I said "start," Charina drove her elbow into Selma's chin without a second's hesitation.
Crack.
The sound was so sharp I almost thought something had actually broken.
Seizing the momentum from that single blow, Charina grabbed Selma and shoved her toward the ropes. She dipped her head as if setting up a back body drop — but Selma, rebounding off the ropes and charging back in, caught Charina's head and smashed a knee straight into her nose.
"Aaaagh!"
Charina toppled backward with a scream. Selma immediately planted an elbow drop into her throat.
Fast. And not a shred of hesitation.
Just how hard did Bibi and The Bon Dudley work these two?
Those bastards. They could spare a little of that attention for our kids once in a while.
Selma hauled Charina up by the throat and hurled her toward the corner with everything she had — a hammer throw. Charina slammed into the turnbuckle, her body flipping up and hanging inverted, as if she'd been planted into a handstand facing the ring.
Well, well. A Flair Flip?
The Flair Flip was a legendary receiving skill made famous by the great Mick Flair. The original name was the Irish Whip, but "Flair Flip" had long since become the more famous term.
Selma charged in without a moment's pause and launched a baseball slide.
Thud.
Both of Selma's feet smashed into Charina's face.
There's no way that should make a sound like that.
Selma kicked Charina in the stomach again, and once more came that solid thud. This time I saw it — Charina's hand, hidden behind her back, was slapping the turnbuckle pad with her open palm.
Holy shit. Her selling is insane.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Selma chopped Charina's midsection a few more times while she hung upside down. Only then did Charina's locked legs finally give way, and she crumpled to the canvas. Selma seized her by the hair, hauled her up, and threaded Charina's neck under her armpit, grabbing a thigh to lift — but Charina caught Selma's neck and threw herself backward. A neckbreaker, completed as naturally as breathing.
"Yaaah!"
Charina let out a roar, sprinted for the ropes, planted a foot on the bottom strand, and launched a Lionsault. Both legs tight together, jump height perfect — she traced a crescent moon through the air and crashed chest-to-chest onto Selma.
Thoom.
You could tell just from the sound. Her knees hit the canvas first, then her chest landed clean. And Selma, neither too early nor too late, threw both arms out and caught her.
These kids were ridiculously good.
Alf and James had been impressive earlier, no question — but those two had worked mostly with kicks, power moves, and dropkicks. These two were structuring a match like lightweight male technicians.
Charina pulled Selma up and dipped her head behind her, setting the pose for an atomic drop — but Selma immediately grabbed Charina's neck, bolted forward, and hit a bulldog. Charina's face slammed straight into the canvas. Selma hoisted her up and this time the Angle Slam landed clean.
"Finish it."
"Got it."
Charina murmured the words from the mat. Selma answered briefly and headed for the corner. I glanced at the clock in surprise.
Holy hell. Five minutes and three seconds.
I hadn't even noticed the time passing.
"Sorry. I completely lost track."
"It's fine. I was watching the clock."
Unlike an arena, this place had a clock on the wall. Charina had clearly been tracking it the whole match.
A rookie who graduated yesterday had the composure to watch the clock mid-match?
Who would believe that if I said it out loud?
Five months ago, Lorenzo and Vanessa — the last pair Team 3D Academy had sent us — had been so bad we cursed them out. This time, they'd sent actual monsters.
Selma climbed the top rope and leapt into a beautiful diving elbow drop.
One.
Two.
Three.
Charina didn't move through the final count. Selma took the win, and the match was over.
"Game set."
The moment I called it, both of them got up as if nothing had happened — just like the guys before them. No sign of pain. Not even breathing hard.
Apparently a five-minute match was nothing more than a warm-up for these two.
I apologized again.
"You two really put in the work. And I'm sorry I didn't call the time."
"It's fine, Coach. I was watching the clock, so it was okay."
"Hmm. So you got so absorbed you forgot, right? I was better than Alf, wasn't I? Right?"
Selma looked at me with an expression that said there's only one correct answer here.
Honestly, their match had been flashier and more entertaining.
"Yeah. You two were way better. Really well done."
"Five minutes twenty-five seconds. You timed it perfectly too. And it was excellent. Seriously fun to watch."
Sophia finally spoke up, clapping.
"Let's get out of the ring."
"Yes, Coach."
Once we were outside the ropes, Sophia shot one more withering look at the idiots lingering behind us, then pulled Charina into a hug and patted her on the back.
Damn it. This was the first time I'd ever been jealous of Sophia for being a woman.
"Charina. That was impressive in a completely different way from the showcase footage. The selling was outstanding. I especially didn't expect the Flair Flip."
"Thank you. But Selma can do it to a certain extent too."
"Is that so? Well then. Both of you picked up some excellent techniques."
Sophia hugged Selma as well, patting her back.
"Selma. Your technique was solid, but the transitions between moves were excellent too. Especially that diving elbow drop — the height was fantastic."
"Thank you."
"Anthony. You should say something too."
Sophia looked at me expectantly, but honestly, I had nothing to add.
"I've got no feedback to give. These two are ready to debut tomorrow."
"Then how about we wrap it up here?"
"Let's do that. It's not like we have sparring partners for them anyway."
"It's their first day, so let's just cover the facility tour and the essentials they need to know, then call it."
"Sounds good."
Sophia told Clint what to go over with them and sent him off to handle the rest.
"Thank you for your hard work. See you tomorrow."
James led the call, and the others bowed their heads in greeting before trailing after Clint like ducklings.
"Haaah."
"What's with the sigh?"
"Charina. That kid is completely insane."
Sophia nodded at my words.
"Yeah. I thought she was just good at striking, but her selling was incredible too. I was a little disappointed I didn't get to see something like a powerbomb, though."
Thud.
Thoom.
Apparently spurred on by the new arrivals, the existing trainees were trying something. But it was clumsy dropkicks and even clumsier selling. The attacker hadn't even jumped yet, and the receiver's hands were already covering their face.
Unbelievable.
Was raising your hands one or two seconds later really that hard? If you were that scared of getting hit, don't do it at all. Guys who'd supposedly been working the indies for two or three years were worse than kids with six months of training.
"Grab the camera. Let's talk in the meeting room."
"What? You've got something to say?"
"Yeah. Not the kind of conversation for out here. Jane needs to see the footage too."
"Alright. Let's go."
Everyone else was in New York, so right now the only people we could talk to were Jane and Clint. Sophia and I quickly gathered the cameras, called Jane Kim to the meeting room, and headed there ourselves — without so much as a glance at the kids still putting on their sorry little "show."
"You called me in for something this serious?"
When we opened the meeting room door, Jane was already there.
"All four of them were excellent. The Dudley Boys sent us monsters."
"Monsters, sure — but one of them isn't just monster-level. She's beyond that. Call her a dragon, maybe?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Charina today was on a whole different level."
I told Jane and Sophia everything I'd seen — how Charina, hanging upside down, had slapped the turnbuckle pad with her palm to generate impact sounds, and how composed she'd been, watching the clock the entire match.
"She was watching the clock during the match?"
"Yeah. I was so focused I completely lost track of time. If Charina hadn't said something first, I wouldn't have noticed even if it went past ten minutes. The Dudley Boys taught them well, sure — but that kid is a genius. A real genius."
"Let's watch the footage first. We'll talk after."
Jane's words came faster now. She immediately pulled up the video on her laptop.
She was thoroughly satisfied with Alf and James's performance, and when their dropkicks collided midair, she actually flinched in surprise.
"How much did these kids practice?"
"No idea. But at most a month or two."
It was a six-month academy program. The schedule was brutal, so to drill something like that they would've had to come in on weekends or carve out time wherever they could.
"The academy really put poison in their teaching. Not a single cent of the referral fee feels wasted."
"Right?"
Next came Selma and Charina's match. Early on it looked like Charina was dominating, but Selma seized control almost immediately. Then came the Flair Flip.
It had been stunning live in the ring, and watching it again was just as fresh. It held up even against the original Mick Flair or his daughter Charlotte Flair. And it wasn't over-the-top the way John Michaels would do it.
Then the baseball slide. From the ring I'd thought it hit her face clean, but the camera shooting from right beside them showed Charina tilting her head back at the moment of impact and taking it on the chest — while her hidden palm slapped the turnbuckle pad.
"Charina sold it beautifully, but Selma really nailed this one."
"Selma said dropkicks were her specialty, so it makes sense she'd be good at this too. She bled off the force perfectly at the end. And still had the presence of mind to hit the pad in the middle of all that."
"For a second I genuinely thought there was a mic on it."
The practice facility didn't have microphones installed, but in a real match, mics were placed everywhere — under the canvas, on the ring posts — so the impact sounds would carry louder to the crowd and the TV audience.
On the second sell, Charina slapped the pad again, layering on the sound effect.
"If they made sounds like that in a real match, the crowd reaction would be insane."
Then Selma finished the match with the jumping elbow drop.
"Right after Selma hit the Angle Slam, Charina told her to finish it. That's when I finally went 'oh crap' and checked the clock. Five minutes and two seconds, something like that."
"Taking an Angle Slam — even with a proper bump, her head should've been ringing."
"That would be normal. But Charina was completely fine. Their chemistry must be incredible. Watching these two and then seeing Mickey and Johnny practice made my eyes feel like they were rotting."
Drum-drum-drum-drum.
As she listened, Jane started flicking her fingers against the table like she was playing a piano — a habit of hers whenever she was deep in thought.
"So what are the kids doing now?"
"Clint's giving them the facility tour. I told them to head home after that."
"Head home?"
"Ha. We don't even have proper sparring partners right now. And at this level, what more are we supposed to teach them?"
"Exactly. I was the one who told them to go home."
Sophia backed me up, and Jane nodded as if she understood.
"Fair enough. There really aren't any decent practice partners for them."
Jane let out a long breath and stopped flicking her fingers.
"Whew. Maybe I should get in the ring myself tomorrow."
"Jane. You?"
"What's going on? You, getting in the ring?"
Jane had always avoided stepping into the ring, saying it brought back the lingering regrets of her in-ring career. So both Sophia and I were stunned by her words.
"I want to see it."
"See what?"
"Selma and Charina working a fifteen-minute-plus match… and the hardcore match Charina wants to do. So I need to check them myself. That's the only way I can get final confirmation from the Hardy Boys or the Dudley Boys."
"And after that?"
"I go find the CMO and tell him."
"Forget it. Your back's already bad — what are you doing selling bumps? I'll take the hits."
"Anthony, you? I'd be grateful if you would."
Apparently Jane had been wrestling with this for a while.
"Jane. Weren't you deliberately putting up a wall because they're fellow Asians?"
"Sophia. You're right. That was the plan. But after hearing what Anthony said, I changed my mind. These kids — all of them — need a real push."
I needed to make a decision too. Before I was a coach, I was a wrestling fan — and I wanted to see these kids fly.
"I'll go with you. That way Karl Overdia might actually open his ears for once."
"Jane. I'm coming too. Listening to you, I want to see it myself now."
"Alright. Thank you, both of you."
"We need to get their theme music ready ASAP. If there are no issues in the dark matches and house shows, we debut them officially right away."
Jane worked as a scenario writer and didn't put herself front and center, but her standing in TPA was on a completely different level from Sophia or me. She was the first female wrestler in TPA history to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. Even the CMO couldn't simply brush her off if she was pushing for something.
And Karl wasn't that stupid. He'd seen the showcase footage, but once he saw them in person, he'd follow Jane's judgment. Hell, he might push them even harder than Jane would.
Who could look at talent like that — that face, that skill — and turn away?
Just imagining the looks on the faces of the CMO, the staff, and the other wrestlers when they came back from New York and saw these kids… I found myself grinning without even realizing it.