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Jack laughed too. "Of course it does. It was Stephanie herself who called me personally. Said Vince was already talking about you this morning. I just wanted to say I'm proud of you, Sandro. You've done something few could even dream of doing and you did it your way. Without any help from your mother and me to advance in your career, as for what others do due to us, that's what they do themselves."
Sandro felt something tighten in his chest, no matter how many times he heard word of encouragement or praise from his after. Not in a bad way of course, as family affection is very important to him. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot coming from you."
"You've earned it," Jack said firmly. "And this is just the beginning. You're walking into a room that very few people get to sit in, Vince, Steph, and Triple H are going to ask for your vision. Don't be afraid to give it to them. They don't need a yes man, something you never are. They need someone who knows this business from both the inside and the future."
Sandro nodded slowly, staring out the window. "I have a couple of ideas I've been saving. Might be time to let them out."
Jack chuckled. "I'm sure they'll want to hear every one of them."
They spoke for a while longer, about Stamford, about the party April and Alexa were planning, and about what came next. When they finally hung up, Sandro stood in silence, phone still in hand.
The next day, Sandro's phone blew up with messages from his old friends, FCW wrestlers, producers, and trainers. All of them reached out to congratulate him and wish him well. The announcement of his contract termination had already been made internally in FCW, and the word was beginning to leak that he was moving to the main roster.
But what really caught his attention were the texts from the remaining Undisputed System members. Wade simply sent a beer emoji. Big E sent a long voice note that started off with "BROOOOOOOO" and ended with "Proud of you, but I'm still sour that we have to lose for the story to end."
Ryback replied with a flex emoji and a message, "Let's drink tomorrow. I'll bring the rage and the drunk." Drew, on the other hand just sent, "Let's talk soon mate. You've got a long road ahead from now."
Meanwhile, Alexa took it upon herself to design a farewell invite card and spread it around to their private and close friends, sending it as a picture through WhatsApp. April followed up with the venue confirmation.
The bar was downtown. Reserved the whole bar. DJ booth. And of course an open bar.
Then time passes by and the night had finally arrived. The night that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of something far bigger. Sandro, dressed in a dark button up shirt with the sleeves rolled just below his elbows, stepped out of his apartment with April and Alexa by his side.
April wore a form fitting, wine colored dress with her hair in gentle curls, while Alexa opted for a sleek black mini dress with silver accessories that glinted in the low light. They got into Sandro's car, the engine rumbling to life as he turned the key.
The drive to the downtown bar was mostly quiet, filled only with low music playing from the car speakers. Occasionally, Alexa would mention who texted her that they were on the way, while April kept fixing Sandro's collar or playfully reminding him to look presentable for the dozens of pictures they were about to take.
When they arrived, the city lights bathed the pavement in hues of gold and blue. The bar stood like a beacon, a tucked-away gem that April had managed to reserve completely. The neon sign outside blinked gently, casting a glow on the entrance.
Inside, the trio walked to the front desk where Sandro gave the name for the reservation. The manager, already briefed by April earlier that day, nodded and gestured for a staff member to lock the front doors behind them. From that point forward, no one except Sandro's guest list would be allowed entry.
"Looks great in here," Alexa said as she surveyed the setup. Soft ambient lighting, a stocked open bar with two bartenders ready, a buffet table loaded with snacks, sliders, and finger foods, and a small elevated DJ booth pulsing with low beats.
Sandro, April, and Alexa took a seat near the bar as the staff made final preparations. And then the arrivals began.
Wade Barrett was the first to arrive, walking in like he owned the place, arms wide open. "Oi, mate! I didn't bring a crown, but I did bring myself for you."
Big E, Ryback, and Drew McIntyre followed just moments later. Big E immediately charged Sandro with a bear hug that lifted him off the ground. Ryback patted him on the back with enough force to make his bones rattle. Drew simply nodded, giving him a quick bro hug.
"You made it, brother," he said with quiet sincerity.
Not long after, a bigger group stormed in, Kofi Kingston, Taylor Rotunda, Nick Nemeth, Bray Wyatt, Luke Harper, Erick Rowan, Sheamus, and Austin Creed. Their entrance was loud, full of laughter, and it made the bar feel truly alive.
Bray raised his glass, shouting, "Tonight we drink not just for Sandro... but for the legacy he's about to leave behind here in FCW!"
The women weren't far behind. Charlotte Flair came in confidently, followed by Natalya, Angela, Tiffany, Maryse, Rosa Mendez, Rebecca Knox, and Davina Rose. They looked like they had just stepped off the red carpet. Hugs were exchanged, drinks handed out, and the music got louder.
Then came the real surprise to Sandro. The TNA guys.
Sandro turned just in time to see AJ Styles walk in, followed by Chris Sabin, Alex Shelley, Bobby Roode, James Storm, Samoa Joe, and Bobby Lashley. For a moment, Sandro blinked in disbelief.
AJ grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "You didn't think we'd let you leave without saying goodbye, did you?"
Sandro laughed. "No way. You guys really came."
"You earned our respect, man," Joe said, raising a beer.
As if on cue, the last guests arrived, Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn. They entered with a group of FCW wrestlers, producers, trainers, and crew who had all played some part in Sandro's journey. Dusty's cowboy hat bobbed as he moved through the crowd with his unmistakable charisma.
"You sure do know how to throw a shindig, boy," Dusty said with a grin.
The party was wild. Music, laughter, memories being shared over drinks and food. People toasted to Sandro all night.
Every few minutes, someone came up to say a few words, some heartfelt, some hilarious. Wade gave a sarcastic but secretly emotional speech. Big E tried to start a dance off that ended with Drew awkwardly doing the robot.
April and Alexa on the other hand made sure everyone had what they needed, occasionally sneaking glances at Sandro who was clearly trying to soak it all in.
At one point, Sandro stood on a table, drink in hand. "I don't have a long speech, but I want to say this. Every single one of you helped me become the man I am. And I'll carry that with me when I walk into WWE tomorrow. This isn't a goodbye. This is a 'see you soon.'"
Cheers erupted. Glasses clinked. Someone cued up Sandro's entrance music Cult of Personality as a joke, and even he had to laugh.
The party went on well past midnight, slowly thinning out as guests left in waves. Hugs, final selfies, and lots of "Don't forget us when you're famous" jokes were exchanged. Eventually, only Sandro, April, and Alexa remained.
Sandro handled the bill at the bar, nodding to the staff in thanks. Then, the three of them walked out into the quiet streets of the city, got into the car, and headed back to Sandro's apartment.
By the time they got home, the alcohol and fatigue had kicked in. April kicked off her heels at the door and collapsed onto the couch. Alexa followed, dragging a blanket over the both of them.
Sandro chuckled and made sure they were okay before heading into the bedroom. He barely changed before falling asleep.
The next morning, the sun cut through the blinds like a blade. Sandro groaned and rubbed his temples, the unmistakable throb of a hangover pulsing behind his eyes.
He sat up slowly and looked over. April was asleep beside him, a light snore escaping her lips. Alexa was on the other side, sleeping peacefully, still in her clothes from last night. Thankfully, nothing happened, not that it needed to. They had simply crashed after an emotional and exhausting evening.
Sandro rose and shuffled toward the bathroom, peeling off his clothes as he went. The hot water helped, the steam worked like a miracle to bring him back to life.
Feeling refreshed, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into the kitchen. He began preparing a simple breakfast, some omelet, bacon, toast, and some fruit on the side. The smell of food slowly started to stir the others.
April was the first to move, groaning softly as she sat up. Her eyes still half closed, she stumbled into the kitchen.
"Mornin'," she said, voice hoarse.
Sandro turned and gave her a kiss. "Morning. Hangover bad?"
"Death. But worth it," she replied before heading to the shower.
Alexa emerged a few moments later, far more energetic. "No hangover, thank God," she said with a bright smile, kissing Sandro on the cheek before grabbing a plate. "Someone's husband material."
"Don't start," Sandro teased.
April returned, hair damp and eyes clearer, and joined them at the table. The three of them ate slowly, chatting softly about the night before, the people who came, and what was ahead.
After breakfast, Sandro packed his suitcase methodically. His gear, a few outfits, his laptop, and a notebook full of ideas he wanted to pitch in Stamford. April and Alexa helped him fold and zip everything with care.
Time moved quickly. Before long, the afternoon had crept in and it was time to go.
Sandro stood at the doorway, his luggage by his side. April hugged him first, tightly, resting her head on his chest. "Make them listen to you, okay? Make them see what we see."
"Always," he whispered.
Alexa hugged him next, resting her hands on his shoulders. "You're ready for this. We'll be watching everything."
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
With one last group hug, Sandro stepped into the elevator and left for the airport. The cab ride was quiet, just him and the hum of traffic. When he boarded the plane, his mind was already racing, ideas, strategies, plans. By the time the flight landed in Stamford, the sun had set again.
He took a cab to the five star hotel he had booked, checked in, and entered his room with the weight of everything finally hitting him. He dropped his bags at the door, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed onto the bed.
Tomorrow, he would meet Vince McMahon, Stephanie McMahon, and Triple H.
The next morning, Sandro woke up early. Despite the long flight and emotional weight of the last few days, his body jolted awake like it knew today was important. No snoozing. No dragging his feet. This wasn't just another meeting, it was the meeting.
He rolled out of bed, the sheets a tangled mess, and padded toward the bathroom of his suite. The marble tiles felt cold beneath his feet as he turned on the hot water and let the steam rise. A quick shower helped rinse off the fatigue. He brushed his teeth methodically, staring at himself in the mirror as if trying to ground himself.
Back in the main room, Sandro opened his suitcase and pulled out the suit he had specifically chosen for today: deep navy blue with subtle black pinstripes, tailored perfectly to his athletic frame.
A crisp white shirt underneath, paired with a matching black tie. He slid on his polished leather shoes, adjusted the cuffs, and finally added a touch of flair, his gold aviator sunglasses.
With one final check in the mirror, he brushed back his hair, added a hint of product to keep it styled just right, and took a deep breath. He looked sharp. He looked ready.
Downstairs, he caught a taxi just outside the hotel entrance. As he slid into the back seat and gave the driver the address to WWE Headquarters, his phone buzzed.
A message from Stephanie McMahon lit up the screen. "Hi Sandro, when you arrive at the lobby, just let the front desk know you have a meeting with Mr. McMahon. They'll know and direct you to the correct conference room. Looking forward to seeing you soon!"
Sandro typed back quickly. "Got it. Thank you, Stephanie. On my way."
The ride through Stamford was peaceful. A clear sky, morning sun, and the hum of the car engine made for a perfect moment of mental preparation. Sandro stared out the window, thinking over the ideas he had scribbled into his notebook, the vision he'd been shaping for years, and how today might just be the day it all began to take form.
Finally, the taxi slowed to a stop in front of WWE Headquarters, an imposing glass building that stood like a fortress of wrestling history. Sandro paid the fare, thanked the driver, and stepped out, the morning air crisp and refreshing.
Inside the building, the lobby was modern and grand. Screens showed highlights from Raw, SmackDown, and old WrestleMania moments. Memorabilia lined the walls, championship belts, posters of iconic moments, and framed photos of legends past and present.
Sandro approached the front desk where two receptionists sat.
"Good morning," he said, offering a polite smile. "I have a meeting with Mr. McMahon."
The receptionist in front of him blinked once, then checked her monitor. Her eyes widened slightly as recognition set in. "Of course, Mr. Sandro," she said with a respectful tone, standing up. She briefly spoke with her colleague, handing over her current tasks, then stepped around the desk. "Right this way. I'll take you up."
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA X Division Champion