“Jeez, you can see it on the TV screen right there. Have a look at her face. That’s the look of death so many before tonight have crumbled underneath. Ava Beckinsale may have over eighty thousand people here wanting to see her, but only one will stand in front of her and she wants victory. Badly.”
Ava held her breath for a few seconds, then let it out. She could hear the boos of the crowd, which could only mean Nash had entered the Cage. Would they cheer for her when she appeared? Ava would like to think they would. Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. Hero or villain, everything was even in the ring. Noise or no noise. Cheers or boos. The only person that Ava needed to focus on was the one opposite her when that bell rang.
“Babes,” Ruben called softly, beckoning her over, glancing at the clock. “We’ve been with you since day one. We’ve seen you grow and evolve into a fighter like we had never imagined. We are so proud of you, but we saw what she did to you last time. We suffered right alongside you. We won’t let that happen again. We believe in you, but if you get into trouble, we are going to call it. Understood?”
“But I—”
“Understood?” he repeated.
Ava relented, nodding. She knew where he was coming from, and although the fighter in her didn’t ever want to quit, or agree to quitting, she had to push that aside and think logically. Quality of life had to be a factor, and there was a decent possibility she could get seriously hurt again at the hands of Veronica Nash. Facing up to that fact, recognising the issue but walking out there to meet her anyway, and giving it her best despite the risk of history repeating were key to moving on.
She wasn’t here because she had to be. She was here because she wanted to be. She needed to be. She had to know if she had what it took. She had never wanted anything more than the gold that resided around Nash’s waist except, perhaps, the knowledge that she could stand toe-to-toe with the best. That she belonged there.
Her dad, who pressed his forehead against hers, was next. “Remember where you came from. Remember what you had to endure to get here. And remember we all love you.”
“I love you too, Dad,” Ava whispered.
“No matter what, just know I am so proud of you. Takes a hell of a lot of guts to get back in the ring after all that.”
She hugged each of them and made her way out to the gorilla press position, waiting for the literal green light and her theme music.
“Oi!” Ruben said from behind her. “Who are you?”
“Ava Beckinsale.”
“You show her that. Got it?”
Ava cracked her neck. “Got it.”
“What is that title?”
“Mine.”
“What?”
“Mine!”
“Let’s do it!” he screamed as the crowd began chanting her name. “Damn, that arse is bangin’. But hate those shorts by the way. Cannot believe you actually asked me to tailor them to fit you. Had to soak my hands in disinfectant, I was so ashamed...” He sniggered until Chris smacked the back of his head.
Ava grinned, appreciating the attempt to break the tension. But suddenly the time for joking was over. All three collectively focused. On the other side of the curtain in front of them was a massive crowd, a championship opportunity and her destiny, whatever that was.
“AND THERE SHE IS! This place is going insane! Listen to this crowd as Beckinsale makes her way out! She’s wearing fighting shorts in the design of the Australian flag, no doubt an homage to her homeland, if not a present to the crowd.”
“I think you’ll find... Yes, the cameras have closed in on them. Those are the shorts made famous by none other than Owen Gasnier, aren’t they? Maybe she thinks they’ll bring her luck.”
“I’m sure she’ll take any advantage she can get. She’s taking her time, you notice? Really going over each part of the stadium with her eyes. Do you think the occasion is getting the better of her, John?”
“No, not at all. I think she’s well in control. Soaking up the adulation while she can. Soon all the cheering and screaming won’t matter. You notice Nash hasn’t moved? Beckinsale still hasn’t noticed.”
“Wait! Now she has! Beckinsale and Nash have locked eyes! It’s a standoff from fifty metres apart. NO! Less! Here. She. Comes! There certainly ain’t no anchor tied to her behind! Flags and signs are waving all over this stadium, on both sides of the ramp that Beckinsale is walking down! She hasn’t moved her gaze from the Cage or Nash inside it. And NOW BECKINSALE JOINS HER! What was a stand-off is now a face-off. They are inches away from each other. Neither blinking! Neither moving! Ladies and gentlemen, the greatest champion who ever lived is once again face-to-face with her fiercest opponent. Look at their faces. Look at the eyes of these two women! Holy hell, are we in for a show. The moment of truth is at hand! The rematch of all rematches is seconds away!”
Ava bit down on her mouthguard. Staring into the hazel eyes of Veronica Nash, she felt something pulsing through her she didn’t really recognise. It wasn’t hatred, and it wasn’t fear. It flowed next to the adrenaline and determination. It was just a stare down, but for Ava it was the first battle, even if a mini one, she was determined not to lose.
The crowd was deafening, yet at the same time, muted. Ava was so close she could feel the small puffs of breath on her nose from Nash. She moved slowly back only when she felt Ruben take her arm.
Seeing this, Nash turned and headed to her corner, handing the belt to the ringside official. The man who would present it to the winner.
“Remember,” Ruben called out over the crowd, “first round is crucial. She’s going to want to set the tone, but you don’t let her, right? It’s your fight. You don’t fight her way. You fight your way. You cover up! You block! Move! Frustrate her into giving you an opening and you fucking smash!”