MidReal Story
Wild Hearts Tangled in Love
Scenario: Samuel Savage is a strong, stubborn and crazy young man. He is the youngest in his family. He has 5 brothers and 4 sisters. He grew up in a wrestling family because of his dad and his mom is a nurse. Samuel doesn't listen sometimes but he loves a girl named Paige. She is strong, crazy, and very flirty.
Create my version of this story
Mrs. Savage
Samuel's mother and a nurse, caring and supportive of her family.
Paige
strong and flirty with a wild side, the love interest of Samuel, has a close relationship with Samuel's family.
Mr. Savage
Samuel's father and a former wrestler, works as a wrestling coach, has a significant influence on Samuel.
I was young and stubborn, but I knew what I wanted.
I wanted to be a wrestler.
I wanted to be the best wrestler.
And I wanted Paige.
I was the youngest of ten kids, and my family was all about wrestling.
My dad had been a wrestler in high school, and he’d gone on to coach the wrestling team at our high school.
He’d met my mom when she was in nursing school, and they’d gotten married right after she graduated.
They’d had my oldest brother, and then they’d had nine more kids in quick succession.
We were a big, loud, crazy family, but we were also close-knit and loving.
My dad worked as a wrestling coach at the high school, and he also ran a wrestling camp for kids in the summer.
All of us kids had grown up going to the camp, and we’d all started wrestling as soon as we were old enough to walk.
My older brothers were all good wrestlers, but I was determined to be the best of them all.
My life revolved around wrestling, and so did my entire family’s.
Every morning, we’d get up at four a.
And then we’d go for a run together.
After that, we’d come home, and my mom would make breakfast.
I’d eat with my brothers and sisters, and then we’d all get ready for school.
We all lived in the same house—my parents included—and we were all within a few years of each other in school, so we all got on the same bus together.
At school, I was a good student, but I spent most of my time thinking about wrestling.
I’d get through the day as quickly as possible, and then I’d go to wrestling practice.
After practice, I’d go to my dad’s office at school, and he’d help me work out or go over different wrestling moves with me.
I ate dinner with my family every night, and then I went to bed early so that I could get up at four and do it all over again.
My days were full of the sounds of my mom cooking breakfast in the kitchen, the laughter of my brothers and sisters, and the smell of sweat and hard work in the wrestling room.
My brothers teased me mercilessly.
They were always trying to make me cry or back down during practice or wrestling matches.
But I never did.
I loved that they challenged me.
I loved proving myself to them.
More than anything else, I wanted them—my dad included—to know that I was tough like them.
Getting them to see me that way was my biggest goal in life.
And then there was Paige.
She was a year younger than me, but she was in my grade because she was super smart.
She was also super beautiful and super flirty—and she was the captain of the girls’ wrestling team.
She seemed to have it all together.
She was pretty much perfect.
And I was pretty much obsessed with her.
I knew she liked me too—she flirted with me whenever she saw me.
But she was older than me, and she was really popular, so I didn’t know if she would ever want to be my girlfriend.
I hoped she would.
More than anything else in the world, I wanted Paige to be my girlfriend.
But until then, I just tried to be near her as much as possible.
I walked her to class whenever our schedules matched up, and sometimes she even let me carry her books for her—which felt like the greatest honor ever when it happened.
My heart beat faster whenever she was near me, and my whole body hummed with excitement whenever she smiled at me or laughed at one of my jokes.
I didn’t know how long I could keep up this friendship without trying to take things further with her, but for now, I didn’t care.
I just liked being around her however I could be, even if it was just as friends for now.
The bus drove past row after row of identical houses on our way home from school, and we all stared out the windows at nothing in particular until the bus finally pulled into our driveway and came to a stop.
And I wasn’t the first or last one in my family to fall in love with wrestling.
I was six years old when I first started wrestling at my dad’s wrestling camp.
We had a mat in our basement, and it was there that I first learned to wrestle.
My older brothers showed me how to do basic moves like a single-leg takedown and an ankle pick.
They taught me how to sprawl and how to pummel for an underhook.
But it was my dad who was really in charge of my wrestling education.
He taught me every move I knew and pushed me harder than anyone else ever would.
He made me run sprints until I thought I would throw up.
He made me do push-ups until my arms felt like they were going to fall off.
He made me do sit-ups and pull-ups and chin-ups and burpees until I felt so sore and tired that I couldn’t even move.
He taught me how to be tough and stubborn and persistent.
He taught me how to work hard and how to never give up.
He taught me everything I knew about wrestling—and more.
My dad loved wrestling, and he loved coaching it too.
He’d been the wrestling coach at our high school for more than twenty years, and he had a lot of success with his team during that time.
He had high expectations for his wrestlers, and he made us work hard every day to meet them.
That was why we all loved him so much, I think—not just because he was our dad, but because he was fair and supportive and encouraging and tough and determined, just like a good coach should be.
He wanted us all to be the best wrestlers we could be, and he pushed us to make sure that happened.
That was why he watched us practice every day after school, even though he was also the coach of the high school team and had other responsibilities related to that job.
He wanted to see what we were doing on the mat, and he wanted to make sure that we were doing it right.
Because, in his mind, it was the little things that mattered most when we were on the mat—like our head position and hand fighting and footwork and stance and motion.
And he wanted to make sure we were doing them right.
That was why he also ran his own wrestling camp every summer—a camp I went to every year until I was old enough to help out at one instead.
He wanted to give back to the sport that had given him so much, and he wanted to help other young wrestlers develop their skills just like his coaches had helped him develop his when he was their age.
And that was also why he’d started a kids’ wrestling program at our elementary school when my oldest brothers were young—and why he’d run it himself until he could find someone else who could do it instead.
He wanted all kids who were interested in wrestling to have a chance to learn about the sport just like they did, regardless of their age or experience level or skill set.
And I loved wrestling almost as much as I loved my family, which was why I didn’t mind going to practice every afternoon to work on the things I needed to improve on—even though it could be boring and monotonous at times, since I did the same thing every day—because I knew that the time I spent there would make me a better wrestler in the long run, even if I didn’t see it at the time.
And I loved wrestling almost as much as I loved my family, which was why I didn’t want to be anywhere else except on the mat, even though it could be intense and exhausting at times—because I knew that the things I did there would help me develop the skills I needed to be successful in the sport, as long as I worked hard at them, even if I didn’t want to do it at the time.
And I loved wrestling almost as much as I loved my family, which was why I didn’t mind going to tournaments every weekend with them to compete in the sport, even though they could be long and boring at times—since I spent most of my time during them sitting around waiting for my turn to wrestle—because I knew that the experience I gained there would help me become a better wrestler in the future, even if I didn’t know what to do with it at the time.
And I loved wrestling almost as much as I loved my family, which was why I didn’t care whether or not I won every time I stepped onto the mat to compete in the sport—even though I hated losing more than anything else—because I knew that the only way I could get better at wrestling was by wrestling opponents who were better than me, and by learning from the mistakes that I made while doing so, even if they hurt at the time.
And I loved wrestling almost as much as I loved my family, which was why I was willing to do whatever it took to be successful in the sport, even if it meant sacrificing some other things that were important to me—like my free time and social life—and even if it meant taking some risks that scared me a little bit, because I knew that if I didn’t try then I’d always wonder about what might have happened if I had instead, and because my dad had told me that those who were willing to pay the price for success would always come out ahead.
And that was why he’d also told me that my family wouldn’t let me fail, even if they wanted me to figure out how to succeed on my own.
Because, in my family, we were all winners, on the mat or not.
And it was that winning attitude that had helped me become the wrestler—and the person—that I was today.
But, most of all, it was the love and support of my family that had made all the difference in the world when it came to my success in the sport.
And it was the love and support of my family that had taught me how to be a true Savage, too.
Because being a Savage meant doing whatever it took to get the job done, even when it was hard—and doing it with confidence and determination, even when it seemed impossible.
And that was why my dad had always said that, in our family, we were all Savages, through and through—because we were all tough enough and strong enough and good enough to do whatever we wanted to do, as long as we believed in ourselves.
And we were all winners, too.
Because sometimes it meant doing things you wouldn’t have otherwise done—things you never would have imagined yourself doing—just so you could get there.
That was why I’d done something a little bit crazy a few months before that hot summer day, when I’d decided to take a chance on Paige by sending her a follow request on Instagram after seeing her name mentioned by one of our friends the night before.
She was a junior at our high school who was well-known for dating college guys—and who was also a cheerleader, too.
But there was something about her that made me want her more than anything else in the world, from the first time we met each other at one of our wrestling matches a few months before that day, even though she acted like she was too good for me back then.
Not that it mattered to me at all.
Because all I knew was that my heart skipped a beat every time she smiled at me—and that my heart broke into a million pieces every time she scowled at me—when she walked by without saying a word one way or another.
But, despite all of the reasons I shouldn’t have, I sent Paige a friend request anyway, because I figured that the worst thing she could do would be to say no—and because I wanted to get to know her better if she said yes.
And I knew that I had nothing to lose by doing so, except for a little bit of pride—but that wasn’t anything that I couldn’t live without, either, since my siblings teased me about being the baby of the family all the time.
So what did I care what anyone else thought, anyway?
And, even though I knew that I probably wouldn’t get a response from Paige right away—if ever—I hoped that the message I sent along with my request would catch her eye, too, so we could start talking to each other sooner rather than later.
Because, even though I wasn’t sure what we’d talk about once we started talking to each other, I knew that I wanted to do something to get her attention more than anything else in the world, so she’d know how I felt about her.
Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her after the first time we met each other at our match—and I didn’t want to stop thinking about her, either—since I hoped that she felt the same way about me as I did about her, even though I wasn’t sure about it at all right then.
So, after I sent Paige my friend request on Instagram that afternoon, I did some push-ups and posted a picture of myself doing them on social media later that night—because working out was one of the things I loved almost as much as wrestling—and then went to bed feeling good about myself because of it.
But what really made me smile before I drifted off to sleep was how much fun I’d had talking to Paige earlier that night after I prank called her with my good friend Jake during dinner—because she didn’t know who we were at first when we called her phone—and how much fun she seemed to have had talking to me, too, after she did find out who I was once we started talking to each other.
And my heart was beating out of my chest as soon as I saw the first few words of Paige’s reply to the direct message I sent her on Instagram later the next afternoon, because I couldn’t wait to find out what she’d said—so I clicked on it to read it right away, and then couldn’t help but smile when I realized what it meant, too, because
I think you need to call me and apologize for what you said to me when you called me last night, and then we’ll see what happens from there, Paige’s reply to my message read, and I couldn’t wait to find out how she wanted me to make it up to her, either, because I knew that I’d do whatever she wanted me to do as soon as I got the chance to do it, too—whatever it was.
And then, a few minutes later, my phone rang, and I answered it right away, because I couldn’t wait any longer—even though I was still a little bit scared about what she might say when I did, too.
“Where do you want to meet?”
“In the parking lot,” Paige replied, and even though I didn’t know which one she was talking about when she said that at first, either, I figured it out pretty quickly after thinking about it for a few seconds, too, because she was already waiting for me when I got there—looking even more beautiful than she did the first time I saw her—standing next to the driver’s side door of her car, so I parked right next to it as soon as I saw her.
And then I got out of my truck and walked over to where Paige was standing, because I couldn’t wait to see her up close again if I tried, either—even though my heart was beating even faster than it was the first time we met each other at our match right then—because I wanted to kiss her just as much as I wanted to see her face-to-face again as soon as possible, too.
“Do you know how much I missed talking to you today?”
Paige said as soon as I was close enough to hear her voice—and I couldn’t help but smile when I heard it, too, because I was still a little bit scared that she might be mad at me after what I said to her when I prank called her phone with Jake during dinner earlier that week even though I was glad that we were talking to each other again—but I didn’t get a chance to say anything back before Paige kissed me first, so I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close when she did.
“Do you have any idea how much I missed you?”
