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"Hey, I'm just trying to do what's best for both of us, for you especially, since you had just debuted and in a tag team nonetheless," Barry said, spreading his arms wide. "You keep turning me down like that, people are gonna start wondering if something's wrong with you."
"That was enough."
Sandro's voice rang out, cold and firm. "I think you should leave, Barry."
Barry turned, clearly not expecting to be interrupted. His expression shifted when he saw Sandro, who was still carrying the air of someone not to be trifled with and he was someone who he shouldn't mess with.
"Oh, it's the double champ," Barry said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "You gonna save the day now?"
Sandro didn't blink. "No. I'm going to tell you one last time. Walk away."
Barry's jaw clenched, but he looked between Sandro and Alexa and clearly decided it wasn't worth it. He scoffed, muttered something under his breath, and stalked off down the hall.
Alexa let out a slow breath and gave Sandro a grateful and bright smile. "Thanks, Sandro. That guy's been a pain in my neck for some time."
Sandro nodded. "You alright?"
"Yeah. I'm just tired, seeing how Barry thinks 'no' means 'please convince me.'" She shook her head, brushing her hair out of her face. "Anyway, thanks again. You didn't have to step in but you did."
"I did," Sandro said simply. "No one should have to deal with that and if he ever bother you again, tell me and I handle him, okay?"
Alexis smiled warmly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks, Sandro. If Barry ever tries that again, I'll come to you. Promise."
Sandro gave her a nod, the kind that was solid, reassuring, quiet strength in human form. Before he could respond, Alexis stepped forward and, with a slightly hesitant motion, wrapped her arms around him.
It caught him off guard.
His body stiffened for half a second, not from discomfort, but from sheer surprise. Alexa Bliss was hugging him.
But when he saw the way she clung to him, more than just a thank you, more than a casual embrace, something inside him softened. She was smaller in his arms, delicate even, and for a brief second, he felt a protectiveness surge through him.
She wasn't just some coworker to him. Over the course of getting to know her in this life, he had started to see her as a little sister of sorts, unlike the great female wrestler he idolized in his past life.
He was always checking in with her, making sure she was getting proper ring time, that the trainers weren't giving her too much to handle.
Hell, he'd even taken time out of his own training to spar with her, work on her transitions, her footwork, and anything else, of course, he also train Charlotte as well so that he would be accused of showing favoritism.
But the way her face lit up when she finally nailed a move, the way she soaked up advice like a sponge, it reminded him of himself when he dreamed of this kind of life in his past life.
So, he relaxed into the hug and gently patted her back. "You're alright now," he said, quietly. "He won't bother you again.*
Alexis closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort. She had never had anyone stand up for her like that before, not in that way. Sure, a few of the other girls had her back in the locker room, but most were caught up in their own battles, their own stories. Sandro was different. He noticed things. He cared in a way that felt real, not performative.
When she saw him appear out of nowhere like a guardian, standing firm against Barry while actually before that several crew members just walked past and did nothing, something shifted inside her.
It wasn't just gratitude, it was something warmer, more intimate. She wasn't ready to give it a name yet, wasn't even sure if she wanted to. But it fluttered in her chest, strange and new and not unwelcome.
The hug lingered, lasting longer than what a typical 'thanks for the help' embrace should've been. But Sandro didn't pull away, didn't question it. Maybe he just assumed she needed comfort, needed someone to remind her she was safe. And maybe, he wasn't wrong.
Still, her cheeks flushed red when she finally stepped back, her eyes avoiding his as she murmured, "Bye, Sandro…" Her voice was soft, almost fragile.
Then she turned and walked briskly down the hall toward the women's locker room, her steps quick and head lowered, trying to hide the stupid smile spreading across her face.
Sandro watched her go, a small amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "She's really nothing like the Alexa Bliss I remember from my past life," he muttered to himself. "She's cuter."
He shook his head, chuckling, as he made his way back to his locker room. Slipping inside, he grabbed his duffel bag and hoisted his two championship belts, his FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship and the TNA World Heavyweight Title, onto his shoulder.
Still, his mind briefly wandered back to that hug. There'd been something in it. Something he couldn't quite place. He brushed it off. Probably just nerves on her part after the Barry encounter.
He had more important things to worry about, tonight's main event was still being talked about online, and tomorrow, he would need to go training and workout to keep his body conditioned, for the triple threat he auld have next week. But in the back of his mind, a certain hug stayed with him.
Something had changed tonight. Whether it was the beginning of something new or just a moment of comfort, he didn't know.
But he knew one thing:
Barry better stay in line. Because the next time he stepped out of it, there wouldn't be any warnings.
And as for Alexa… she'd never have to face that kind of disrespect alone again.
Not while Sandro was around.
He adjusted the straps on his duffel and left the locker room, heading toward the exit. What he didn't know, what neither of them knew, was that someone had been watching.
Barry.
The cocky, smirking face that had just walked away in apparent defeat was now twisted in barely contained rage. He had stormed off after Sandro's warning, but halfway down the hall, curiosity or maybe spite, got the better of him.
He doubled back, ducking behind the wall on the opposite side of the corridor, just in time to witness the entire exchange between Sandro and Alexa.
The hug. The way she looked at him. The way Sandro let her. It was like a dagger to his pride.
Jealousy simmered under Barry's skin, bubbling hotter with each second. His fists clenched at his sides as he watched Sandro chuckle and walk off, seemingly unfazed. Like he could swoop in and be the hero, get the girl, and walk away with two titles strapped to his shoulder. It made Barry's blood boil.
But as much as he wanted to scream, to march back in and throw a punch, he knew better. Sandro wasn't just another indie guy or some developmental no name.
No, Sandro had backing. His family was crazy rich and people in high places liked him. Dusty Rhodes. Steve Keirn. Even there's word that Stephanie McMahon had been watching him closely. Barry couldn't afford to cross him directly, not unless he wanted his own push to get buried six feet under.
Alexa, on the other hand… she was expendable.
A rookie. No family in the business. No generational name to protect her. Just another fresh face trying to survive in a place where people like Barry were born to thrive, well that's how he look at it.
He grinned, a nasty, cold curl of the lips.
"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered under his breath. "You think Sandro can protect you forever?"
He stepped away from the wall, slowly, disappearing back into the shadows of the hallway with a plan already forming.
Back in the women's locker room, Alexa stood in front of the mirror, her hand pressed to her chest. Her heart was still racing. She tried to shake it off, telling herself it was just adrenaline. Just leftover nerves from dealing with Barry.
But deep down, she knew it wasn't just that.
She thought about how Sandro had looked at her. How he didn't treat her like a burden, or a distraction. How he didn't try to flirt or push or mock. Just… cared.
It felt different.
And maybe, just maybe, if she worked hard enough, if she improved enough, she could stand beside someone like him not just in the ring… but maybe outside of it too.
But that was a thought for another day. For now, she had better focus on her match next week that she needed to prep for. A tag match with Charlotte against Eve and Tiffany. She tightened her ponytail and gave herself a nod, taking her things and head back to her apartment.
After that, days passed by, and it was Friday.
The Florida sun hung high over Tampa, casting a golden hue through the windows of the FCW headquarters as the muffled sounds of weights clanking, ropes snapping, and shoes hitting mats echoed throughout the training and workout area.
Sandro, dressed in black training shorts and a sleeveless gray tee damp with sweat, moved effortlessly through a set of heavy squats. His muscles tensed and glistened with effort, but there was ease to his rhythm, a product of relentless conditioning and the quiet fire he always carried with him.
Beside him, his usual crew Big E, Nick Nemeth, Drew McIntyre, Sheamus, Kofi Kingston, Taylor Rotunda, and Stu Sanders, were mid session too. The group was hyping each other up, pushing past limits, and cracking jokes just to make the grind go down easier.
"Yo E!" Kofi shouted from a bench, grinning. "You sure you ain't hiding dumbbells under that hoodie? That chest ain't human!"
Big E let out a booming laugh, throwing his towel over his shoulder. "Man, this is all natural, baby. God's favorite son, forged in the fires of protein and pain!"
"Someone get me a priest," Drew said, smirking as he wiped down a set of dumbbells. "Because I'm ready to confess I'll never catch up to that bench press."
Laughter rippled through the crew, the kind that only came from people who'd bled together on the mats and built respect through hardship. Sandro chuckled too, shaking his head as he racked the barbell and rolled his shoulders.
But then, a sharp, high pitched scream sliced through the noise. The laughter died instantly.
All eyes turned toward the far corner of the training area, where a small crowd of female wrestlers had gathered in a huddle. The energy shifted in an instant, from playful to concerned. Sandro's eyes narrowed, scanning quickly. He could make out a few familiar faces Charlotte, Rebecca, Davina… and April.
April was standing at the edge of the circle, her expression unreadable. To the untrained eye, she looked like she was just another concerned trainee, her brow furrowed in worry. But Sandro knew better. She was his girlfriend, and he knew every micro expression on her face. And right now, her jaw was tight with something close to fury.
"C'mon," Sandro said, already moving toward the group.
His friends followed without a word, their previous light hearted banter forgotten. As they got closer, the group of women parted slightly, revealing what they'd been surrounding.
Alexa.
She was standing stiff and pale, her eyes wide with fear. Sweat glistened on her forehead, not from training, but from something far more unnerving. At her feet lay an overturned box, its contents spilled out in disturbing display. Several small dead mice and cutter blades.
The air went still.
Sandro's heart dropped, his protective instincts kicking in like a thunderclap. Without waiting, he stepped through the circle and knelt beside Alexa.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, voice calm but edged in steel.
April stepped forward, arms folded across her chest. Her tone was composed, but Sandro could see the storm behind her eyes. "Someone left that for her. It was sitting right outside of our locker room. She brought it with her and opened for her and us to see and well—" she gestured at the grotesque mess.
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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, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion