Becoming A Wrestler

Chapter 341: 320. Show Changes



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On FCW's official Twitter account, they reposted the couple's tweets with cryptic captions like "Undisputed... and undeniable?" Clips of Alexa in the ring got more play. Charlotte posted a backstage photo of her and Alexa smirking with the caption "Someone wasn't here to smile and be friends anymore."

It was working.

And then, like clockwork, Monday rolled around again, time for another episode of FCW Live Monday weekly program.

The locker room buzzed with energy hours before the show started. The production crew wheeled cases of lighting and props. Sound checks echoed through the arena.

The fans couldn't wait for the performance tonight.

As the arena filled to the brim with buzzing energy, the crowd's anticipation reached a fever pitch. The air was electric, thick with the scent of popcorn, fresh pyro smoke, and the weight of weeks of speculation.

Online drama had spilled into the real world and FCW had not only refused to squash the flames, they'd fanned them into a bonfire. So when the unmistakable entrance music of Charlotte Flair and Alexa Bliss hit as the opening match kicked off, the response was a sonic boom.

A wave of cheers surged through the crowd, but tucked inside were scattered boos that echoed with just enough volume to be noticed. That wasn't surprising, this storyline had made waves.

Fans had read Charlotte's tweet. They had seen the smirking backstage photo. The caption, "Someone wasn't here to smile and be friends anymore," had ignited a thousand think pieces, fan threads, and Reddit theories. Now, seeing Alexa walking beside Charlotte without her usual sparkle, many fans in the arena were quietly nodding. It was her. It had always been her.

Charlotte strutted down the ramp with her signature confidence, eyes forward, chin up, like she owned the ring and everything around it. But Alexa? Alexa wasn't skipping. She wasn't blowing kisses. Her trademark sass was muted tonight.

Her smile was faint, more a flicker than a beam. She walked in lockstep beside her partner but with a coolness that hadn't always been there. And Charlotte? She didn't glance at her once. Not in concern. Not in encouragement. Nothing. It was as if she expected this. As if she wanted it.

They entered the ring with practiced ease, each taking a corner to pose. Charlotte raised her arms, soaking in the cheers and jeers like a queen above the fray. Alexa simply tilted her head and stared out into the sea of faces, unsmiling. Cold. Distant. The message was clear. She wasn't here to play nice anymore.

The reaction was immediate. Fans around the arena shared glances, whispers, and excited reactions. This wasn't just a tag match. This was storytelling. Real or not, they were buying in.

Then, just as the crowd settled, Davina Rose's entrance music hit, and the mood shifted again.

The reigning FCW Divas Champion burst onto the stage with a burst of energy, greeted by a warm cheer. She beamed at the crowd, waving enthusiastically and pointing to her title belt slung over her shoulder.

The golden plate caught the arena lights as she took her place at the top of the ramp. Then her music faded… and was replaced by a roar of approval that nearly shook the rafters.

April.

The inaugural and longest reigning FCW Divas Champion stepped out with confident swagger, her presence commanding. She joined Davina at the top of the stage, and the two best friends exchanged a quick look and smile before heading down the ramp together.

Their camaraderie radiated as they slapped hands with fans along the way. April, always magnetic, leaned into the ropes and flipped into the ring, then did a pose alongside Davina to the delight of the crowd.

This wasn't just two teams squaring off. This was the past, present, and future of the division converging.

The referee, with the seriousness of someone well aware of the weight behind this match, stepped in. Davina handed her title to the ringside crew, and the ref made his final checks, ensuring both teams were ready. Then, with a dramatic sweep of his arm, the bell rang.

It was on.

From the opening lock up, it was clear that storytelling was more important than the scoreboard. Davina and April worked like a well oiled machine, crisp tags, synchronized attacks, and an emotional investment that the crowd felt with every move. They were the heart of FCW's women's division. And Charlotte and Alexa? They were the storm clouds gathering.

Charlotte handled most of the early ring time for her team. She held her own with brutal precision, showing off her athleticism and power, but she couldn't match the cohesion of her opponents. And when Alexa was finally tagged in, fans immediately noticed the difference.

Gone was the bubbly, mischievous Bliss.

Alexa moved like someone with something to prove, and something to hide. She was colder, more methodical, and for the first time in a long time, she bent the rules.

A rake to the eyes when the ref's back was turned. A foot choke in the corner that lasted just a second too long. She wasn't breaking the rules recklessly, she was toying with them. And the fans noticed.

You could hear the murmurs rising. The shift in Alexa's demeanor hadn't just been a social media tease. It was being woven into the match.

Her association with Sandro, which fans initially dismissed as a piece of juicy relationship news, was now being interpreted as part of her slow transformation. It was no longer just a relationship, it was a turning point.

Charlotte, oddly, didn't interfere when Alexa was in trouble. When Davina knocked Bliss down with a missile dropkick, Charlotte stepped down from the apron and watched. Cold. Measured. And maybe just a little satisfied.

The match built to a crescendo with fast tags and high spots, culminating in a massive suplex from April that sent Charlotte tumbling across the ring. As Charlotte stumbled to her feet, Davina caught her with the Rose Plant and immediately went for the pin.

One! Two! Three!

The bell rang, and the crowd erupted.

Davina and April's arms were raised in victory, and the chemistry between them reaffirmed. They shared a quick hug in the center of the ring as the referee returned the FCW Divas title to Davina.

Meanwhile, Alexa slid into the ring, standing behind Charlotte, who was still recovering from the pin. For a split second, the crowd tensed. Was she going to help her partner up? Berate her? Walk away?

None of the above. Alexa just looked down at Charlotte, her face unreadable. Then she turned and exited the ring on her own, leaving Charlotte to roll out a few moments later.

Frustration flickered across Alexa's features as she walked up the ramp alone. It wasn't a full blown tantrum. Just a slight clench of the jaw. A blink too long. A subtle tension in her shoulders.

The message was clear and that is something was brewing.

As the show continued with backstage segments and solid in-ring matches, fans couldn't stop talking about that tag match. Online threads exploded with speculation. "Is Alexa turning heel?" "Was that tension real?" "Is Sandro influencing her character change?" FCW had struck gold, they'd turned relationship news into a wildfire.

And then, as the night reached its final act, the lights dimmed. It was time for the main event and this match was an important main event, because it was for the War Games advantage.

At this time, "SHOCK THE SYSTEM" blared through the speaker, and then the Undisputed System's music hit as fans let out loud boos.

Not polite jeers. Real heat. The kind that vibrated through the floor and up your spine. This faction had become synonymous with power, control, and manipulation, and the fans hated them for it.

From behind the curtain stepped Sandro Zhang, the leader of the Undisputed System, dressed to kill in a sleek black suit stitched with gold thread that shimmered under the arena lights. He moved with the confidence of a man who believed he was untouchable, and even if he had just lost his TNA World Heavyweight title.

Flanking him were his enforcers, Big E, Drew McIntyre, and Ryback, all dressed in matching custom-tailored black suits. Each man radiated a different kind of menace.

Big E with that unreadable smile, Drew with those intense, stormy eyes, and Ryback looking like he could tear through the arena walls if Sandro merely asked him to. And behind them, in his ring gear and already stretching out his arms like he was warming up for a fight, came Stu Bennett.

Seeing Stu dressed for combat, the fans instantly understood. He was the representative for the Undisputed System in tonight's main event, a singles match with massive implications.

The winner would secure War Games advantage for their team next Saturday, meaning first entry, early control, and likely momentum that could carry all the way to victory.

And in a match as chaotic and career altering as War Games? That meant everything.

Sandro stepped up behind Stu at the top of the ramp. He placed both hands on Stu's shoulders and leaned in close, his face unreadable as he whispered something into Stu's ear.

Whatever it was, it seemed to sharpen the smirk already spreading across Bennett's face. Sandro then made a grand, sweeping gesture toward the ring, granting his approval, his command, for Stu to take care of business.

Stu gave a subtle nod, then headed down the ramp, ignoring the searing boos that rained down from every direction. He didn't pose. Didn't strut. He just walked, laser-focused, cocky smirk intact. His eyes never left the hard cam as he slid into the ring and backed into his corner. The image was chilling: the calm before a calculated, brutal storm.

The rest of the Undisputed System turned and walked back through the entrance curtain, leaving Stu alone in the ring, but far from outnumbered. He didn't need backup. Not tonight. He was the tip of the spear, and everyone in the arena knew it.

Then, the sound changed. Hope pierced through the tension.

Then Mick Foley entrance music "Wreck" hit the speakers, and the place blew up like a powder keg.

Mick Foley stepped out to a thunderous ovation, wearing his signature flannel over a black shirt, a gleeful grin stretching across his face as he hit his classic "Bang Bang" pose at the top of the ramp.

The nostalgia, the respect, the legend, he carried it all with him as he made his way down the ramp, slapping hands, hyping the crowd, bringing that unique Foley energy that had made him a fan favorite for decades.

But as he reached the ring, the smile changed. Not vanished, just… narrowed. It was time to fight. He rolled into the ring, posed for the hard cam one more time, then turned, locking eyes with Stu and giving him a little mocking wave, like he was greeting an old friend he was about to punch in the mouth.

The fans roared with anticipation. This was it.

The referee checked both men, asked for any last-minute questions.

None.

He turned, gave the timekeeper the signal—

DING DING DING!

And the War Games Advantage match was officially underway.

Stu circled the ring first, low to the mat, eyes sharp. Mick stood more upright, hands up like he was back in the bingo halls of ECW. When they locked up, it was more like a clash than a tie up, and Stu with the size advantage, backing Mick into the corner with brute strength. The ref rushed to separate them, and Stu stepped back… but not before mushing Mick in the face with a dismissive hand.

Bennett laughed. Mick didn't.

The crowd booed again, louder this time. Stu played into it, throwing his arms out, grinning like he owned the building.

But when he turned around and bang! Mick hit him with a flurry of wild punches, fists flying from every angle like a barroom brawl come to life. The fans exploded.

Stu stumbled back, trying to shield himself, but Mick pressed the advantage, pushing him into the ropes and whipping him across the ring, only for Stu to reverse it. On the rebound, Mick ducked a clothesline and came back with a running knee that staggered Bennett.

And then, leg drop! Right across the chest!

Cover!

ONE!

Stu kicked out immediately, furious. Mick stayed on him, though, raining down forearm after forearm onto Stu as the crowd chanted his name. The main event match wasn't going to be pretty. It wasn't about flips or finesse. This was war. A preview of the chaos to come at War Games.

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 20 (2010)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles

Faction: The Undisputed System

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion


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