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The banter kept the mood light, and the drinks kept flowing. By the time midnight rolled around, the energy in the room was looser. Conversations got louder, laughter came easier, and the little bar had turned into their own private afterparty.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Nikki kept up her act. It wasn't constant, she'd chat with the other Divas, laugh at a joke from Kelly Kelly, or sip her drink, but every so often, she'd drift over to Sandro.
Sometimes it was a touch on the arm, sometimes leaning in to say something in his ear, other times just standing a little closer than necessary when they talked.
It was enough to send a message, and it worked, none of the women who'd been eyeing him earlier tried again as they thought Nikki likes him and from the looks of it, Sandro reciprocated her as well.
The only people who thought something very different and like the others doesn't know what was really going on were Triple H and Shawn. They both noticed the way Nikki seemed to hover around Sandro, and both came to the exact same conclusion.
"He's definitely going home with her," Shawn muttered to Triple H at one point, shaking his head like it was inevitable. "Kid doesn't stand a chance. Look at her."
Triple H chuckled. "No kidding. Hell, I'm surprised he's lasted this long."
To them, it was just a young guy being tempted beyond reason. And while they kept their comments mostly between themselves, they couldn't help but trade knowing looks whenever Nikki made another move.
Sandro, meanwhile, stayed calm. Nikki's teasing wasn't new to him, it had been part of their private dynamic for a long time, but he was confused about why she was pushing it so hard tonight, especially when everyone here knew he was publicly with Alexa Bliss.
Even though nobody in the locker room knew the truth, that Nikki alongside April had been with him longer than Alexa, it still felt risky. And from his perspective, it didn't do much for her reputation.
The party stretched late into the night, the clock pushing past 1 AM, maybe closer to 2 by the time the group started breaking up. People had flights to catch in the morning, early calls for gym sessions, or just the good sense to know they'd had enough.
When it finally wound down, wrestlers left in twos and threes, some heading to their hotels, others to rented apartments for the week.
Sandro didn't have that problem, being in his hometown meant he could go straight home.
Nikki, too, had her own arrangements, but a few blocks from the bar, she slipped quietly into his car. It was a calculated move, they didn't want the others to see or suspect anything about their relationship.
The city lights flickered across her face as they drove, the hum of the road filling the silence for a moment. Eventually, Sandro glanced over at her.
"So…" he began, keeping his tone casual. "What was all that about tonight?"
She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "All what?"
"You know what I'm talking about babe," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "The whole… 'hover around me, make it look like you're staking your claim' thing."
Nikki's smirk deepened. "Oh, that? Just fulfilling my pact with April and Alexa."
That made him blink. "Your what?"
"Our pact," she repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "We agreed we'd make sure women, especially the beautiful ones—don't get too close to you. You're a magnet for trouble, Sandro. We all know it."
He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You really think I'm that easy to sway?"
She gave him a pointed look. "If the one teasing you was someone like Kelly Kelly? Yeah. You'd be tempted. Maybe you wouldn't fall for her, but you me tempted and think about it. And I'm not giving them that opening."
He couldn't exactly argue. She wasn't wrong. He wouldn't cheat, but he was human, and certain kinds of attention could get in his head if he wasn't careful.
They reached the Zhang family mansion not long after. The driveway lights glowed warmly against the night, and when they stepped out of the car, the old butler was there waiting.
"Welcome home, Young Master Sandro, Young Miss Nikki," he said with a polite bow. "Your parents are away on a business trip and will not be returning until later in the week."
Sandro smiled faintly and nodded. "Thanks for letting me know."
As the butler turned to head back inside, Nikki leaned in close enough that only he could hear. Her voice was low and teasing. "Well… that means we can do it in your room tonight without worrying about disturbing your parents."
He gave her a look, half exasperation, half something darker, before taking her by the hand and leading her upstairs without another word.
The days that followed blurred together in a mix of workouts, light training, and downtime. The memory of the afterparty was still fresh, but the focus shifted quickly, Monday Night RAW was coming, and Sandro had his debut match on the red brand.
When Monday came, Chicago's United Center buzzed with pre show energy. Backstage was a hive of activity, crew members rushing with cables and gear, producers running through last minute changes, wrestlers stretching or going over their matches.
Sandro stood in front of his locker, putting on his gloves with focused precision. His gear for the night hung neatly beside him, and in the mirror's reflection, his expression was calm but sharp. This was the next step, and he was ready.
The atmosphere backstage had a different kind of electricity now. That nervous hum before a debut match, it wasn't just Sandro who could feel it. Everyone around could sense it too.
Even the veterans, guys who'd been walking through the curtain for decades, still knew the weight of a first night on the main roster.
Behind Sandro, a deep voice rumbled like it came from somewhere in the earth.
"Hey, kid."
He turned to see the towering figure of Big Show, arms folded but wearing a faint grin. Beside him stood John Cena, already in his bright red gear, cap turned backward.
Big Show nodded toward him. "I hear it's your first official RAW match tonight."
Sandro smirked faintly. "That's right."
Show clapped a massive hand on his shoulder, so big it almost covered Sandro's entire upper back. "You'll do fine. You've got the tools, the presence, and you've already made a splash. Just remember, slow down enough to let the people feel what you're doing. They already want to boo you, so let them. Let it breathe."
Cena chimed in with that trademark calm confidence. "Exactly. You don't need luck tonight, but take it from me, debut matches go fast in your head. One second you're walking down the ramp, the next you're in the back wondering what happened. Just stay present in there."
It wasn't the kind of over the top pep talk you'd see in a movie, it was practical, measured, and exactly the kind of advice a young performer could actually use.
Sandro gave them a nod of respect. "Thanks, both of you. Really. I appreciate it."
He took a breath before adding, "I'll have to pick your brains after the match. I want to hear your takes on in ring psychology, especially with live crowds this size. I'm still learning how different it feels compared to smaller venues."
Big Show chuckled. "Anytime, kid. As long as I'm not on a plane, I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
Cena nodded. "Same here. We all started somewhere. Somebody took the time to help us, now it's our turn."
That meant something to Sandro. Not everyone backstage was so open or generous. He'd heard enough stories from older wrestlers about the days when the locker room was a lot less forgiving. This was different.
"Thanks again," he said sincerely. "I'll let you guys get back to your own prep. I've gotta get into gear."
Big Show gave him one more solid pat on the back, Sandro swore he felt that one in his ribs and Cena tipped his cap before the two of them moved along.
Sandro headed to his locker, unzipped the gear bag, and began methodically changing into his ring attire. Every piece of it had been laid out with care, his gloves, the custom tights, the boots polished to a mirror shine. The ritual of putting it on steadied him.
Once ready, he stepped out of the locker room and began the slow walk down the hallway toward gorilla position.
The sounds of the live crowd grew louder with each step, muffled at first, then sharper, like a constant rolling wave. The show had been going for a while now, and the big screen just ahead showed exactly where things stood, MVP was in the ring with The Miz, the U.S. Championship on the line.
Sandro stopped just shy of Vince McMahon's chair and focused on the monitor.
Even though his match was next, he wasn't in a rush. There was always something to learn from watching others work. MVP and Miz had a rhythm, MVP's explosive bursts of offense against Miz's sly, underhanded tactics.
It wasn't a long bout, he could tell from the pacing it would wrap under ten minutes, but both guys made every second count.
Sure enough, after a quick referee distraction and a well-timed cheap shot, Miz hit the Skull Crushing Finale. The crowd erupted in boos as the three-count landed.
"Still your WWE United States Champion… The Miz!" Justin Roberts' voice rang over the arena sound system.
Sandro smiled faintly, clapping his hands for the performance as Miz's theme hit. Say what you want about him, Miz knew how to milk every ounce of heat from a crowd.
Behind him, Vince's voice cut through the noise. "Sandro."
Sandro turned to face him. Vince leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto him with that intensity that always made people sit up straighter.
"You're up next. I've given you a decent window out there, longer than most debuts get. I want it to be spectacular. Show them exactly why I put you here."
Sandro didn't hesitate. "I'll make the most of it, sir. Promise. I'll follow the story we've laid out, but I'll make sure the crowd remembers it."
Vince gave the faintest approving nod before shifting his focus back to the show.
Miz appeared through the curtain then, the U.S. Title draped over his shoulder. A couple of crew members clapped for him as he passed, and Sandro stepped forward to offer his own nod.
"Good work out there," Sandro said.
Miz gave him a small grin. "Thanks. Go kill it out there tonight. First impressions are everything."
Sandro returned the smile and gave a thumbs up. Moments later, MVP followed, sweat still dripping from his forehead.
"You've got this, kid," MVP said, still breathing heavy.
"Appreciate it," Sandro replied, but before he could say more, Vince gave the hand signal.
It was time.
Sandro's heartbeat slowed, not sped up, as he positioned himself just behind the curtain. The opening chords of "Cult of Personality" ripped through the arena sound system, and the reaction was immediate.
Boos. Loud ones.
Out in the arena, the titantron lit up, showing his name, SANDRO ZHANG, and a slick highlight reel from his Royal Rumble run and the kayfabe brawl with Shawn Michaels.
The crowd hated him for it. Perfect.
Sandro stepped through the curtain with slow, deliberate confidence. He didn't rush his entrance, he wanted them to get a good look, to know exactly who they were booing.
He spread his arms wide halfway down the ramp. Right on cue, pyro exploded upward in brilliant red and gold.
The ring announcer's voice filled the arena.
"Introducing first… from Orlando, Florida… weighing in at 220 pounds… SANDRO ZHANG!"
The chorus of boos grew louder. Sandro didn't flinch. Didn't smirk. Didn't shout back. He simply walked the rest of the way to the ring, climbed the steps, and slipped through the ropes.
At the commentary table, Michael Cole and Jerry Lawler picked up the narrative.
Cole, playing his role as heel commentator to perfection, leaned into his mic. "This is a huge moment, King. Sandro Zhang's first official match on RAW. We've already seen what he's capable of when he eliminated Shawn Michaels at the Rumble, and I have no doubt he's going to prove tonight why he's one of the brightest prospects in WWE."
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
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