A/N: I used to be like you guys and insult and degrade ring rats. Then...life happened. Do me a favor, boys and girls. Stay away from the wrestling business. Far, far away. Remember, this is AU. No, I don't like Kelly Kelly, but she fits oh so perfectly.
My name is Barbie and I like wrestling.
That statement just sounds like a train wreck waiting to happen.
I went to a show one day and fell in love with it. People beating up on each other...What more could you want? Not to mention that the guys are kind of yummy...
My name is Barbie and I'm a ring rat.
I never thought that I would call myself that before in my life. I was sitting in the back at a show by myself. None of my friends like wrestling. They called it fake and stupid, not understanding the physicality that wrestling actually requires. One of the guys, who I happened to have a major crush on, went to grab a beer from the bar and started talking to me. One thing led to another and...you know.
A close friend of mine, meaning that I'm his ride to and from shows and he introduces me to whatever boy I want, told me that a lot of the guys talk about me in the locker room. I'm partly embarrassed, but also shocked and flattered at the same time. I asked him why they picked me out of all of the girls. He answered with three things.
One, obvious reasons of putting out to the wrestlers.
Two, I'm hot and have special "talents".
Three, they could smell from a mile away that I have the lowest self-confidence they've ever seen. They could tell just by looking at me that if they talked me up, I'd give in so easily.
And it was true. Wrestlers prey on girls that don't give a damn about themselves.
They were the lions and I was the antelope.
My name is Barbie and I am a stupid girl.
I wish my younger self could have seen into the future and yelled at my present self. I never would have become this. I wouldn't have let myself. I used to be smart. Being sucked into the horror that is the independent wrestling scene has blinded me.
I knew that, but yet I continued to go to the shows. I continued to let it all drain me.
I loved it.
My name is Barbie and I'm about to hit the jackpot.
The same friend that I talked about earlier...he is trying to get a referee contract with WWE. He is quite popular in the Midwest and is friends with a lot of guys in WWE. He has Goldust's number in his phone and regularly goes out drinking with Hornswoggle.
Well...WWE was in town. I guess Batista was looking for a little fun for the night and asked him to find a girl to mess around with.
Guess who he called? Yep, me.
I drove to the bar with my friend. Being only nineteen, I feared not being able to get in. There was no one at the door, and it was nearing bar close anyways. He and I walked in, and all of the guys' eyes went to me.
Batista. Cena. Orton. Edge. There were a few younger guys there, but those were the ones that caught my eye right away. The boys that I didn't recognized I assumed to be roadies or part of the production crew.
"Is this her?" Batista asked as we walked in. I gave him a million dollar smile as he pulled me on his lap. I could smell the Jack Daniel's on his breath.
Orton was sitting next to Batista and myself, giving me glances up and down. He seemed to be just as trashed as Batista. Cena was chatting up the bartender, appearing to be almost tipsy. Makes sense for him not to get wasted, if you think about it. Then there was Edge. He was sitting all alone in the corner of the bar, checking up his cell phone. He looked very tired, but with no drink in front of him.
I felt another hand brush up against my leg. I looked up to see Randy Orton grinning at me, his eyes glazed over. I was starting to get uncomfortable. Batista must have sensed this. He put down his glass and wrapped both arms around me, kissing the top of my head.
"Mine," he said softly yet aggressively to Orton.
My friend was buying everyone drinks and acting like a little bitch. This honestly shocked me. In the year I've known him, he never let anyone do that to him. He finally bought himself a shot and set it down with the new round of Jack he got for Batista. He left it there as Cena called him over for something. As he returned to get the shot, I picked it up. I needed a drink.
"Hey!" he said, trying to grab the tiny glass from my hands.
"Let her have it," Batista ordered. My friend let go and backed up.
"Whatever you say, man."
I downed the burning liquid and set the glass back down on the bar top. "Thanks, buddy!" I squealed teasingly. He usually got whatever he wanted from me. Tonight, I got what I wanted.
"Last call guys!" the bartender announced. The majority of the men howled in disapproval.
"Sorry, guys. I get mean at 2AM."
The boys finished their drinks and we all slowly drifted out of the bar. I drove myself, my friend, and Batista to the hotel. He was rooming with Orton, but he was catching a ride with Cena and Edge.
We took the elevator up to the room. Orton was already half passed out on the bed, but he stirred slightly when we walked in.
"Why are you here, girl?" he asked me, slurring his words.
I didn't know how to answer that.
Orton sat up and called me over to him. He sat on the edge of the bed and I stood in front of him.
"I'm going to ask you again. Why are you here?"
"Why are you getting all fatherly on me?"
He started poking me in my vagina area. I mean, I was fully clothed and all, but it was strange to have a grown man doing this.
"You're better than this! Go home and go to school! Don't be a whore! What you have is a gift!"
Batista and my friend loudly groaned.
"He's ruining it!" my friend yelled.
I looked over at him and arched an eyebrow. "Ruining what?" I asked, smiling. I walked over to Batista, giving him my best bedroom eyes. I took his hand and led him to the bathroom and closed the door. He sat on the ledge of the tub. I straddled him and we started making out. His hands ran all over me, and my hands quickly went down and unbuttoned his jeans.
Once he saw what I was going for, he shoved me off of him, and I fell on my ass. He pulled down his pants and sat back down.
"Let me ask you something, girl. Your friend says you want to be a wrestler. True?"
I slowly nodded my head. I can't believe he said that...
"Show me how bad."
I crawled on my knees up to him and went to work.
Ladies, I don't suggest you fantasize about him. If you only knew the truth, you'd be sorely disappointed.
My name is Barbie and I just lost a friend.
"Fucking whore," my friend said when he called me the next day. "My plan backfired! BACKFIRED!"
"Why are you calling me a whore? YOU wanted me to do this!"
"Just wait, Barbie. Just you wait for the surprise of your fucking life."
My name is Barbie and I'm Kelly Kelly, WWE's newest Diva.
A/N: Damn, I'm rusty.