by Tony Correia
I thought coming out was supposed to make my life better. But I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. I wish I had never agreed to go on a date with him.
“Okay, everyone, take ten,” Romeo shouts.
We all climb out of the ring and guzzle water from our bottles. I towel off and check my phone for messages. There’s a missed call! Oh my God! Thom called me!
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Romeo. “I have to make an important call.” “We start in five minutes,” he warns.
I go outside. My sweaty body freezes in the chilly March air. I dial Thom’s number.
“Hi,” Thom says, all peaches and cream. “I’m glad you called me back. I was worried you were avoiding me.”
“I’m at wrestling practice.”
“So that’s why you sound out of breath. I thought you were happy to hear from me.”
“I am. I was working up the nerve to call you to see if you wanted to go out again.”
“Actually, I was calling to see if you would be interested in going to a protest with me on Sunday.”
“What kind of protest?”
“The pipeline.”
Pipeline? Which pipeline? There are so many.
“Sure,” I tell him.
Romeo sticks his head out the door. “Are you coming back in to practice? Or are you going to gossip on the phone all night?”
I hold up my finger.
“I have to get back in the ring,” I tell Thom. “Can you text me the details?”
“Sure thing,” Thom says.
“I’m glad you called.”
“I’m glad you called back.”
“Talk soon.”
I jump for joy and shout, “Yahoo!” at the stars. Then the cold attacks the sweat on my skin and I run back inside.
Arshdeep grabs me by the shoulders as soon as I enter the gym. “You missed the big announcement! Romeo said I’m going to make my pro debut at next month’s show!”
“That’s awesome, Arshdeep! We should go celebrate after practice.”
“For sure!”
I can see that Thunder is fuming. I’m sure he was expecting Romeo to put him in the next show.
The second half of practice is amazing. There’s a spring in my step. All my moves pop like fireworks. I can’t remember when I felt this good about myself.
Thunder is still pissed that he’s been passed over for a spot in the next show. The angrier Thunder gets, the stiffer his punches and uppercuts get. Every time I’m paired up against him, I have to be careful. I don’t want him to give me a black eye before my next date with Thom.
The session ends with practice matches. Thankfully Romeo puts me up against Troll. Our match goes pretty well, but I wouldn’t charge anyone to watch it.
The next practice match is between Thunder and Arshdeep. You can feel the anger rolling off Thunder like a storm. His hands are balled into fists. He’s asking for trouble. I know Arshdeep can handle himself in the ring, but I have a bad feeling about this.
The match seems to be going fine. Thunder still has steam coming out of his nostrils but Arshdeep is like a dancer in the ring. He can make anything look good.
Halfway through the match Thunder lifts Arshdeep for a body slam. Arshdeep’s head is pointed toward the floor and his stomach is against Thunder’s chest. Then Thunder bends Arshdeep’s arm behind his back. All of us watching gasp, including Romeo. This is a risky move even for a veteran. It’s not the type of thing you do on a whim.
“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Arshdeep shouts. Thunder ignores Arshdeep’s protests and drops him into the mat.
CRACK!
I grab my arm in sympathy pain. Thunder stands over Arshdeep who is writhing in pain. Romeo hops over the top rope into the ring. He pushes Thunder out of the way and kneels down next to Arshdeep.
“Grab the first aid kit and the ice packs from the freezer!” Romeo shouts.
I run to the office and grab a couple of ice packs from the old fridge. Romeo puts the packs on Arshdeep’s shoulder. He tells me to start his car so we can take him to the hospital.
I see Thunder standing in the corner on my way out of the ring. I swear there’s hint of a smile on his face.
07
The Protest
There are about 500 people in front of the Vancouver Art Gallery. They are voicing their anger about the proposed pipeline. I’ve never been to a protest before so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.
“What do you mean you’ve never been to a protest before?” Thom says when I tell him that.
“I’m a shy guy. I don’t like crowds. I get nervous speaking into the microphone at the drive thru.”
“How is it you can wrestle in front of a mob of angry wrestling fans but you don’t like crowds?” Thom says.
“When I wrestle there are ropes between me and the audience.”
“Just repeat what the crowd says, and cheer after someone speaks.”
“That sounds more like a dictatorship than a protest,” I observe.
“Don’t get smart with me or I’ll have to put you in a headlock.”
“You don’t have to get aggressive to touch me.”
“I’ll remember that,” Thom purrs into my ear. “How’s Arshdeep?”
“He’s pretty depressed that he can’t wrestle for six weeks. I want to drive out to Burnaby to cheer him up.”
“It sucks that he’s not going to be able to be in the show.”
“It’s a wrestling card, not a show.”
“Tomayto, tomahto. It still sucks.”
“At least Romeo kicked Thunder out of the School of Hard Knocks. Rumour has it he marched right over to Lion’s Gate Wrestling. He’s working as a manager there.”
“That sounds like a promotion to me.”
“He’s basically an extra.”
We listen to a few more speeches and rhyme off a few more chants with the crowd. Then I ask Thom, “Have you told your parents about me yet?”
“They know I met someone.”
“But you haven’t told them that I’m a high-school dropout. Or that I’m training to become a pro wrestler.”
“It hasn’t come up yet.”
“Do they know my name?”
“They know you have one.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. Maybe the protest has empowered me, so I just say what’s on my mind. “Do I embarrass you?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Look at us. You’re wearing a hundred-dollar shirt. I got mine on sale at Old Navy.”
“This was a present from Lionel.”
“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working.”
“This might shock you but my parents are quite conservative. I didn’t tell them about Lionel until we had been dating for three months.”
“That does shock me. You seem so confident about being gay.”
“I am. But I live in Surrey. It feels like we’re five years behind the rest of the world.”
“Some of my relatives are still stuck in the seventies.”
“But Portugal is one of the most liberal countries in the world! They legalized gay marriage and decriminalized drugs.”
“Since when do you know so much about Portugal?”
“Since I started dating you.”
“So we’re dating?”
“Maybe,” Thom says, grinning.
He kisses me on the lips. He pushes his tongue in my mouth. I freeze for a second and then I start to relax. We wrap our arms around each other and go for it.
“Fags,” someone mutters as they walk past.
I feel my shoulders start to tense up.
“It’s not mean if it’s true, asshole!” Thom shouts in the guy’s general direction.
“Thom?”
&nb
sp; Thom turns around to see who called his name. A good-looking Asian guy weaves his way through the crowd toward us. He’s dragging another guy behind him by the hand.
“Lionel?” says Thom. “You didn’t tell me you were coming to the protest.”
“I’m here on a date,” Lionel says. “Thom, this Eddy. Eddy, this is my ex, Thom.”
Eddy steps out from behind Lionel and nods hello. He is as good-looking as Lionel.
“What a coincidence,” Thom says. “I’m here on a date too! This is Jorge.”
“Great turnout, huh?” Lionel says.
“I don’t know if it will do any good,” Thom says. “The premier and the prime minister seem intent on pushing this thing through.”
“Don’t be such a cynic,” Lionel says, and then turns to me. “What did you think, Jorge?”
“Of the protest? It was fun. I’m with Thom, though. I feel like this pipeline is a done deal.”
“You two are made for each other,” Lionel says.
“My parents own a small business. They’re always getting shafted by City Hall and the Province,” I explain.
Thom squeezes my hand in approval.
“Eddy and I were about to get some coffee,” Lionel says. “Want to come?”
“Wouldn’t you two rather be alone?” Thom asks.
Eddy’s face says that he would.
“You don’t mind do you, Eddy?” Lionel says, ignoring the look of agony on Eddy’s face.
“That should be fine,” Eddy says. But his voice is saying something else.
“Do you mind?” Thom asks me.
There’s a pained look on Thom’s face. He obviously doesn’t know how to say “no” to Lionel. I begin to wonder if Lionel will always get the last word in our relationship.
“Lead the way,” I tell Lionel.
* * *
At the coffee shop, Thom asks, “So how did you two meet?”
“Dating app,” Lionel says.
“I thought you hated those things,” Thom says.
“It’s not like there are a ton of queer spaces for teens. Unless you want to sneak into a gay bar. How about you two?”
“A wrestling show at the fairgrounds,” Thom says.
“You hate pro wrestling!” Lionel says. “You told me it’s for morons.”
“Actually Jorge is a pro wrestler,” Thom says. Is he trying to one-up Lionel?
“Training to be a pro wrestler,” I correct him.
“Tell Lionel what you told me about good guys and bad guys,” Thom says. He nudges me like it’s the greatest story in the world.
Thom seems like he’s trying to make up for something. I don’t like it.
“Yeah, Jorge. Explain pro wrestling to me,” Lionel says. He has a cocky grin on his face.
Well, if Lionel is going to be a smartass about this . . .
“At its heart, pro wrestling is a tale of good versus evil. The little guy is constantly being tested by the big guy until the little guy finally wins,” I explain. “It’s like the protest we were just at. The oil companies are the bad guys. We call them the Heel in pro wrestling. The protestors are the good guys, or the Face. And like real life, the fight is never really over.”
“And what’s your role in this battle?” Lionel asks.
“I don’t know yet. But I want to be the good guy. Most wrestlers want to be a Heel because they get more money and fame.”
“Just like real life,” Thom says.
“Why would you want to be the good guy if all it gets you is walked over?” Lionel says.
“We don’t always get to choose the roles we play,” I tell him. “Besides, being gay, we’re always treated as the bad guys. Like we’re asking too much by expecting to be treated like human beings. Is it really too much to ask to be gay and the hero?”
“I just think it’s silly to parade yourself in front of an audience pretending you’re something you’re not,” Lionel says.
“Would you say that to a drag queen?” I ask.
There’s a silence. I expect Lionel to make some bitchy comment. But he doesn’t.
* * *
Back in the car Thom leans over. He gives me a peck on the cheek.
“That was beautiful the way you shot Lionel down,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say. “But I have to ask. You’re not into me to fulfill a boyhood fantasy, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you bragged that I was a wrestler to Lionel. It sort of made me feel like one of those stuffed animals you win at the Pacific National Exhibition.”
“I got a little flustered. Lionel can be a real jerk sometimes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’d be lying if I denied that part of what attracted me is that you and Lionel are night and day. But that’s not what this is about. From the moment I saw you I felt something true and honest. I knew if I didn’t go for it, I would spend the rest of my life kicking myself.”
“When you put it that way . . . I guess that’s all right.”
We start to make out in the front seat of the car. Thom puts his hands down my pants but I stop him.
“Sorry,” I tell him. “I’m not ready for that yet.”
“I understand. Is it okay if we kiss some more?”
“Definitely.”
I open my coat so I can feel Thom’s arms around me. I can’t believe I got the two things I want most at the same time: a boyfriend and a shot at becoming a wrestler.
08
The Push
Romeo has me up against Golden Adonis in the next student show. Adonis has been with Canadian Pacific Wrestling Federation for a couple of years. He’s one of the few wrestlers in Romeo’s fed who is under forty. Romeo wants me to try my hand at being a Heel. Adonis is the most popular Face on his roster.
“Just because you’re the Heel doesn’t mean you get to call the match,” Romeo tells me. “Adonis is a worker, so whatever he says goes.”
“Got it.”
“Adonis, I need you to work with Jorge and help him shoot on the stick to get some heat going before the match starts,” Romeo says. Shoot on the stick is wrestle-talk for using the microphone to talk trash about your opponent.
“But I hate talking on the mic,” I say.
“You’re going to have learn sooner or later, Jorge,” Romeo says. “You need to start working on your gimmick now that Arshdeep is out of commission.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I ask.
“That’s right, I’m giving you Arshdeep’s spot in the next card.”
“Awesome!” Adonis says, shaking my hand. “Good work.”
“This is only a trial run,” Romeo says. “You screw this up and it’s back to the bush leagues.”
I’m speechless. I wasn’t expecting to make my debut for another three months at least. I want to call Dad and tell him. But he’s sitting in the bleachers with Thom and Arshdeep.
Arshdeep . . . I wonder if Romeo has told him yet. Suddenly I feel awful. This was not how I wanted to make my pro debut, taking Arshdeep’s chance.
“Let’s go through the match,” Adonis says, snapping me out of my head.
Adonis and I spend the next ten minutes working out what we’re going to do in the ring. We’re both high-flyers so there’s the potential for a lot of excitement.
“What are you going to say on the stick?” Adonis asks me while we wait for our match to start.
“No idea.”
“Don’t overthink it,” Adonis says. “Just say the first thing that comes into your head.”
I listen to the audience as Atom Bomb tears Troll a new hole in the ring. When he dives onto Troll from the second rope and covers him for the pin, it sounds like he’s going to go through the apron.
“All yours,
boys,” Atom says as he comes back through the black curtain.
The announcer stands in front of the ring. He introduces me with the name I chose. “Hailing from Whitehorse, Yukon . . . Chinook!”
I run through the curtain. The announcer covers the mic with his hand and whispers, “You need a new ring name. That one sucks.”
My cheeks go red. I grab the mic from the announcer and drop it immediately. Everyone plugs their ears because of the feedback. I can see Dad hiding his eyes in embarrassment. Arshdeep and Thom are trying not to laugh.
“You suck!” one of the Schlepp sisters shouts at me. This is not how I wanted to get heat.
I pick up the mic and fumble with it some more. Then I get it in front of my mouth. My hands are shaking like a leaf.
“I-I just want you all to know that by the time I’m done with A-Adonis, he’s going to need more b-b-Botox than the Real Housewives of Vancouver.”
“You talk like a baby!” the other Schlepp sister shouts.
“That was personal,” I say. I break my gimmick and speak in my regular voice.
The announcer grabs the mic from me before I can shame myself more. “And now for the main attraction . . . Golden Adonis!”
Adonis bursts through the curtain. The regular fans get up on their feet to cheer him into the ring. I feel small standing in my corner, waiting for him to finish making his entrance.
The bell rings. We circle each other and lock up.
“Don’t sweat your entrance,” Adonis whispers in my ear. “Just focus on the match.”
It takes me a few minutes to shake off my embarrassment. Adonis is a master in the ring, but I manage to hold my own. The high point of the match is when I throw Adonis out of the ring, then leap over the top rope and land across his chest as he gets up from the floor. One of the Schlepp sisters applauds. I’m finally connecting with the crowd. Adonis wins the match, but I’ve made my mark.
Thom winks at me as I walk past him to go backstage. I wink back at him. I can’t believe my boyfriend is in the audience and the marks don’t even know it.