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Sandro rubbed the back of his neck and offered a sheepish smile. "I just wanted to say… about that promo earlier. I didn't mean any disrespect with some of the stuff I said. I know some of it got kinda sharp."
Booker let out a loud laugh. "Kinda sharp?! Man, you called us fossils and told Joe he was a washed man!"
Sandro winced. "Yeah… that part."
Joe laughs seeing this and shakes his head. "You have said far worse compared to this before when we rivaled each other man, chill. The crowd believes what you have said is genuine and that's what matters."
Scott Steiner cracked his knuckles but had a grin on his face. "Kid, I've heard worse. Hell, I've said worse on live television. Don't compare your words to big poppa pump words."
Kevin Nash raised his bottle. "Promo was fire. Real old school versus new school energy. Don't sweat it."
Even Sting nodded in approval, his face paint slightly smeared from the heat, but his tone calm. "You played your part and we played our part. That's what we're here for."
Finally, Kurt stood up, walked over, and looked Sandro in the eye. For a moment, it felt like another showdown, but then Kurt clapped a hand on Sandro's shoulder.
"You did good out there, much better than the one we had two weeks ago," Kurt said. "You got the crowd. You sold the match. That's your job. Don't ever apologize for doing your job well."
Sandro exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thanks. I just didn't want anyone thinking I was trying to shoot."
"Nah," Kurt waved it off. "Trust me, I've done promo battles with guys who really did want to shoot. That wasn't it. You were in character. And honestly… that line about 'past your prime'? That's nothing. The one I said to Shawn back in '05? That was brutal."
They all laughed.
Big E popped his head into the doorway. "Hey! You done apologizing to the legends, champ? You owe me and Beer Money some beers."
Sandro grinned, "On it."
Before he turned to leave, Booker called out. "Hey, Sandro!"
"Yeah?"
"Better bring that fire at Forbidden Door. 'Cause we ain't slowing down just 'cause the calendar flipped."
Sandro grinned wider. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
That night, Sandro sat in the locker room with his title on his lap, the Forbidden Door poster taped up on the wall behind him. The image showed him and Kurt face to face, the FCW and TNA titles glinting between them. Fire. Lightning. Bold red letters that said:
"FORBIDDEN DOOR: WHEN LEGACIES COLLIDE."
Sandro smiled seeing this, never expecting that he would wrestle Kurt Angle, Kurt Freaking Angle, at this stage of his career. He leaned back against the bench, the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship heavy across his lap.
His eyes lingered on the poster taped up on the locker room wall, still a little surreal even after all the years he'd spent adjusting to this new life. If someone told me when I first got reborn into this world that I'd be wrestling Kurt Angle? He let out a soft chuckle. I'd have told them they were crazy. Out of their minds. But now? Now it's happening. One week.
One week until he stepped into the ring with one of the greatest technical wrestlers in history. The Olympic Gold Medalist. The multi time world champion. A man who once wrestled with a broken freaking neck.
Sandro ran a hand through his damp hair and muttered to himself, "Damn. I gotta be on point for this."
The next morning, still riding that strange wave of adrenaline and nerves, Sandro arrived at the FCW Headquarters for a meeting with Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn.
The room was as familiar as ever, with championship photos, faded posters, and the unmistakable scent of strong coffee that Dusty always insisted on brewing himself.
Dusty was already seated, leaning back with that classic wise grin on his face. Steve stood next to him, arms folded, both men eyeing Sandro with the kind of look that usually came with a new idea.
"Sandro," Dusty began, voice smooth like gravel and honey, "we been thinking…"
Steve took over. "We want to put out a training montage. Something special, y'know? For the FCW YouTube channel. You versus Kurt? That ain't just a match. That's a moment. We want to show you grinding, preparing, becoming."
Sandro blinked. A training montage? Like Rocky? Honestly, the idea lit a spark in him.
"I like that," he nodded. "Actually… I've got an idea."
Dusty's brow quirked in interest. "Let's hear it, kid."
"What if I go back to UCF?" Sandro said. "You know, back to the wrestling mats where it all started for me. Train with my old coach on camera. We make it real technical, focused on amateur wrestling. Grit, sweat, takedowns. Real roots of wrestling. And it's not just good for me, it's good for the UCF wrestling team too. They get exposure. They attract talent."
Steve and Dusty shared a glance, then smiled.
"That's real," Dusty said. "That's what I'm talkin' about. That's storytelling. That's heart."
"Make the call," Steve added. "Let's make it happen."
Sandro pulled out his phone immediately and dialed a number he hadn't called in a while. It only rang once before a warm, familiar voice picked up.
"Coach Grady!" Sandro grinned. "It's Sandro."
"Well, I'll be damned!" came the voice on the other end, full of surprised joy. "Sandro Zhang. State Champ. You finally remembered us, little people?"
Sandro laughed. "Never forgot. Actually, Coach, I got a favor to ask."
After explaining the idea, about FCW, the training montage, the match with Kurt, and the opportunity to feature the UCF wrestling team identity, Coach Grady didn't even hesitate.
"Are you kidding me?" he barked, voice booming with pride. "You were one of our best graduates and wrestler. You brought home that state title like a monster, and you turned down the damn Olympic invite. This? This is nothing. You tell me the day and the hour, and I'll have the mats ready."
Sandro grinned ear to ear. "Two days?"
"Two days," Coach confirmed. "You better be ready to sweat."
Two days later, Sandro landed at Orlando International Airport alongside Big E and the FCW YouTube crew. The team was buzzing, hauling camera rigs and bags while Big E munched on trail mix and cracked jokes about Sandro finally going full Rocky Balboa.
"The only thing missing is you running up some stairs with 'Eye of the Tiger' blasting," he teased.
"I'll consider it," Sandro smirked, "as long as you're chasing me with a Taser."
They loaded into two rented SUVs and headed straight for the University of Central Florida. As they pulled into campus, the sight of the old sports auditorium made Sandro's chest tighten with nostalgia. The banners. The worn down steps. The memories of countless hours of drills, mat burns, and victories.
Coach Grady was waiting out front like a general waiting for his troops, arms crossed over a UCF jacket that barely fit his broad frame anymore. His hair was a little grayer, but his fire was the same.
"There he is!" he bellowed as Sandro stepped out. "The golden boy returns!"
Sandro laughed and walked over, wrapping his old coach in a hug. "Good to see you, Coach."
Coach Grady stepped back and looked him over. "Damn, you got bigger. And what's this I hear about you wrestling Kurt Angle in our call?"
Sandro just shook his head, amazed himself. "Yeah. It's happening."
The coach turned to the others. "Y'all rolling?"
The YouTube crew gave him a thumbs-up. Big E walked over, giving Coach Grady a respectful handshake.
Coach waved them all in. "Come on. Let's get to work."
Inside, the wrestling room looked almost the same. The mats were cleaned, and the walls were still lined with plaques and old trophies. The moment the cameras started rolling, Sandro and Coach Grady went to work.
Coach began with light drills, chain wrestling, stance drills, then take downs. Sandro moved with precision and fluidity, a mix of natural talent and hard won experience. The YouTube team captured every bead of sweat, every grunt, every moment of intensity.
During one of the water breaks, Coach Grady turned to the camera crew. "Let me tell you something. This kid right here? He was fifteen when he won the Florida State Wrestling Championship, for us. He was going up against grown men, seniors, and he pinned most of them like it was just practice."
Big E's jaw dropped.
Coach continued, "And after that, you know who came calling? The U.S. Olympic Committee. Wanted him to join the team. Train for the big show. And you know what he told them?"
Sandro rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face.
"He said, 'No thanks.' Said he had other goals. I thought he was crazy. But now look at him. Champ. Main eventing a match with Kurt freaking Angle."
The room went quiet for a moment.
Big E looked at Sandro like he was seeing him for the first time. "Dude… you were fifteen?"
Sandro shrugged. "Different life, different mindset. I wasn't ready for the Olympics. But I knew I wanted this."
One of the YouTube team suggested that this to be put inside the training montage, where Coach Grady talked about that while watching Sandro trains, and this idea was approved by everyone except for Sandro who couldn't do anything as he lost in the vote.
The cameras kept rolling as the training continued. Sandro worked through suplex drills, reversal counters, and conditioning. His footwork was crisp, his focus razor sharp. At one point, Coach made him run suicides across the mat for five minutes straight. No cuts. No edits. Just pure grind.
When it was all done, drenched in sweat and acting like he was very sore to his bones, Sandro sat on the bleachers with a bottle of water and Big E beside him.
"Think it's enough?" Big E asked.
"For Kurt Angle?" Sandro said. "Not even close. But it's a start."
Coach Grady walked up and handed him a towel. "You've got the drive, kid. Just remember, Angle's a shark. He'll smell hesitation the second you show it."
Sandro nodded slowly. "Then I'll give him nothing but fire."
The cameras captured one last shot, Sandro alone on the mat, the lights above casting a long shadow. He stood, turned toward the lens, and said:
"I've trained my whole life for this moment. And come Forbidden Door, I'm walking in as FCW Champion. I'm walking out as FCW and TNA Champion with my legacy intact. You want to see what the future of wrestling looks like? Watch me."
Later that night, back at the hotel, Sandro reviewed the footage with the YouTube team. They were ecstatic.
"This is gold," one of them said. "Real. Raw. Inspiring. People are gonna eat this up."
Sandro leaned back in his chair, eyes on the laptop screen as the montage ended with a slow fade on the words:
"FORBIDDEN DOOR: WHEN LEGACIES COLLIDE."
And underneath it, in smaller but bolder print:
"Sandro Zhang vs. Kurt Angle — One ring. Two eras. Only one legacy survives."
The next day, the morning sun cast long shadows across the UCF campus as Sandro was meeting with Coach Grady, giving him a check. Coach Grady accepted the check and was surprised by it.
"You sure about this donation, kid?" Coach asked, nodding toward the check Sandro had just handed to him, a cool million dollars made out to the UCF wrestling program.
Sandro hearing that smirked. "Positive. You guys need new mats, better equipment, hell, maybe even a damn scholarship fund. Consider it payback for all the times you let me prove myself even though I was the youngest in the team and that doesn't make it hard for me."
Coach Grady barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Damn right, you owe me. But I'm just doing what any sane person does, and thanks for this as it will help us."
Big E, already lounging in the passenger seat with a protein bar, called out, "Yo, champ, we rolling or what? FCW's expecting us back by noon and we have a flight to catch."
Sandro gave Coach one last handshake, which turned into a rough hug, the kind only wrestlers and soldiers understood. "Keep an eye out for the montage. It's gonna blow up."
Coach Grady grinned. "Oh, I know. And Sandro?"
"Yeah?"
"Kick Angle's ass."
By the time Sandro, Big E, and the YouTube team landed in Tampa and arrived at the FCW Headquarters, the YouTube team uploaded the training montage. The FCW social media team didn't waste time, within minutes, the official Twitter account blasted it out with the caption:
"THE MAKING OF A CHAMPION. @SandroZhang's journey to Forbidden Door starts HERE."
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 19 (2009)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style
Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion