Trouble

ONE

ONE

I am exceptionally good at what I do.

That sounded braggy. Let me try again. My name is Michael, but most people know me by my ring name, Ethan Carter III. As EC3, it is my job to make people hate me. Seriously, I literally get paid to piss people off. The fans love to hate me. This makes me a very good at my job.

My other job is more complicated, and it doesn't pay as well as wrestling does. Actually, it doesn't pay at all, but it should. I am a telepath. Yes, that means I know what people are thinking, and yes, I heard that. And that, too. Jeez, do you kiss your mother with that mind?

Moving on, I'm telling this story because someone should. It's not really mine to tell, it's her's... But here I am, and here I go.

I met her at her very first night wrestling with TNA. She wasn't green, but I didn't recognize her. I watched her train with Tanea, our very own Knockout Rebel. "Who's the new girl?" I asked James. You probably know James better as Spud. Yes, surprisingly, we are actually extremely close friends when not in character. He totally sends me random text messages with Winnie the Pooh quotes, too.

"Hey, Michael," he greeted me. "That's Emily. She's our newest Knockout, Abstract."

"Abstract... That's kind of badass." I studied her, liking her unique ring name and her equally unique style. "Hmmm... That's weird."

"What is?"

"I can't get a read on her. That girl's mind is completely blocked."

"I thought you don't actively try to read minds."

"I don't, unless the mind in question is completely silent. That makes me wonder what the person is hiding."

"You think she did that on purpose?"

"Only the strongest blocks keep me out, and even those I can usually break through with a little effort."

"But not with her?"

"No... There's nothing there, James."

"Why is she special?"

"Exactly." I was fascinated. It really was rare that I met a person who could keep me out of their head. "She's pretty, too..."

Emily looked toward us then and I saw amusement on her face. That's when I realized that although I couldn't hear her thoughts, she could hear me and James talking. I had the good grace to blush slightly as I looked her in the eye. I wondered how much of our psychic rambling she understood. Was she psychic? Although a lot of wrestlers were, not everyone was. If she was a mere mortal, she'd think we were nuts. If she was psychic, she was being awfully rude by not telling us.

Emily tossed her brown curls over her shoulders and laughed. She tapped Tanea's back, signalling she was ready for a break, and took a few sips of water before walking toward me and James.

"Emily Farrow," she said, extending her hand toward me.

"Hello, Emily. Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Michael."

"I know. Nice to meet you, too. I absolutely hate you, so keep up the good work!" She gave me a thumbs up.

I smiled my best smile at her. She hardly seemed to notice. I wasn't sure if I was losing my touch or if she was just immune to my charms.

A small person who was hidden beneath an enormous mass of brown curls came toward us. "Are you finished yet?" The little squeaky-voiced entity asked.

"Almost, honey," Emily said. "Abigail, this is James and Michael. Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Abigail."

"Hello, Miss Abigail," James said politely, crouching down so he was her height.