Three

Stretching his legs out as far as they'd go, Fergal reached for the floor. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5" he stood straight. inhale, exhale He reached for the floor once more, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5".

I said the kids don't, the kids don't stand a chance. The lyrics rang through his headphones, the song doing its duty in blocking out the craziness from backstage. The crew was just finishing up last minute tasks when Fergal found this spot tucked into the corners of the stairwell, the low lights hid him off in the shadows - allowing him solace to collect his mind. The show's signature did a run through an hour ago, since then a small crowd gathered in the arena. From his point he could hear them bustling about, coming alive with excitement.

The hairs on his neck stood at attention. Fergal tried to push the nerves to the back of his mind, but he couldn't ignore his pounding heart. In just a few minutes he'd make his official appearance to a live WWE audience. The thought alone was enough to send a cold chill down his spine. He lifted his leg on the rail before bending in a squat. Just breath Devitt.

Inhale

Exhale

"Don't choke Fergy boy" Claudio teased as they made their way back to the locker room, earlier. It felt like years ago to Fergal who watched the ticking clock in front of him. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5..."

You're a top performer Fergal, one of the best in the business - there's nothing to fear. You've got this. You've. Got. This. Empowering words defied his nerves.

"Fergal?" The song came to an end just in time for him to hear his name being called. He removed the ear buds.

"Lad?"

"Jame's looking for you," the boy, an intern no more than twenty Fergal would've guessed, pointed in the general direction of where he should head next. "Said he would like to talk to you before your match".

"Yeah," Fergal picked his towel off the ground and followed the kid to the office of James Kislow. He knocked once before he got the okay to come in. "'Ello, you wanted see me Jimmy?"

James Kislow, Director of Talent Development motioned towards the empty seat beside his, "how ya' doing Devitt? Ready for tonight?"

"As I'll ever be".

"Nervous?" He guessed, to which Fergal nodded begrudgingly. James chuckled, turning towards the make shift table, he picked up a piece of paper and handed it over. "Us higher ups have been talking to creative a lot lately and we've decided to make some changes. So I'm just giving everyone on my roster a quick update. Basically the creative team has been getting a lot of flack from most of the talent and so they've decided to put the ball in you alls court." Fergal nodded in reply keeping along so far, "now they're willing to work with you all and make changes you agree to but for the most part, it's your show".

"Dat means...?"

"Means you're in charge of your character, your gimmick and story for the most part," James expressed. "It's this new thing we're trying out. Seems the fans know more and more each day - more than what they use to and since we pride ourselves on giving the 'Universe' what they want ..." He left it hanging in the air for Fergal to interpret. "However, just so we're clear this does not guarantee you a shot at a title just because you want it or for the sake of it - a main event match at Mania. You're work ethic and deliverance will still play a major role in that area. But if you go out there and win your matches, put on a good show then everything should line up accordingly. You understand?"

"I tink so," Fergal stood up. "Will dat be all?"

James nodded, "for the most part, yeah," he stood following Fergal out into the hall. "Good luck out there, alright?" He patted him on the back once more, motioning for another guy to come in. "Matt my man, come on in".

Looking down at the paper, Fergal skimmed over what he and James discussed. He started to fold it when he felt the slightest bump to his shoulder.

"Sorry" a girl with dark hair muttered rushing past him. "S'okay," He responded but not fully catching a good look at her.

The arena was filling to its capacity quickly, he could hear as cheers for respective Superstars and Divas reached his ears. The time was vastly descending upon his debut. Some added pressure was there as he was set to open the show against Stu.

Claudio patted his back upon his appearance, shaking Fergal from the confinements of this thoughts. "My friend, you start the show tonight and I just wanted to say, in all seriousness," Claudio's smirk formed into a true satisfied smile. "I am glad you are here," he clapped Fergals' back soundly. "Really".

Fergal watched him for a moment, waiting for the bout of laughter that usually followed but when none came he took a step back. Claudio was being serious. "Stay safe out there and have a great show". The show's theme rumbled through the arena drowning the last of what Claudio said, but Fergal got the message loud and clear. He nodded his thanks as talent from each side started to trifle about when Stu's theme played. It was time. "Break a leg my friend".

There was a split second of silence where he could hear the underlying rumble of the crowd. In all his life, he never thought he'd make it to this stage of his career. Once crowned an Indie King, he never thought he'd have the opportunity to show a larger stage what he could truly do. Give them 110%. Give them hell.

The first beat of his song dropped. "One..." inhale, "Two..." he stepped out from behind the curtain, "Three." The roar of the crowd paused his step as he took in the thousands of faces in attendance. The nerves in his stomach swarmed around until they wrestled into feelings of excitement, and he smiled.

"And his opponent," Lillian's voice rang over all the noise taking place inside the Pepsi Arena, "From Bray County, Ireland - Finn Balor!"