Staring into the locker room’s mirror, the gigantic 18-year-old Cory Stenson ran a comb through his hair. His nice, new, green hair.

He smiled to himself with a sense of satisfaction; gone were his waves of generic brown hair, and in its place was something fresh. Something different.

It was the end of another day of training at the Golden Wrestling Academy where he had been literally learning the ropes the past six months. All he had ever wanted to do after high school was pursue professional wrestling. It made sense considering his prowess on the matt while attending Glen Miller High School.

“Hey Cor’, looking good!” a friendly voice behind him said.

Leaning against the lockers was his good friend Ben Miller, grandson of Golden Glen Miller. Ben was a stout 6’6” with the same beautiful golden hair his grandfather once donned. Albeit Ben wasn’t nearly as big as Cory.

As far as their relationship, Ben wasn’t just a fellow trainee and friend; he was practically Cory’s big brother. Ben was nearly eight years older than Cory and had been pitching in wisdom and character-building affirmations during Cory’s development. He had become the mentor Cory needed while finding himself in early adulthood.

“Thanks, B,” Cory responded. “I thought that… just… you know…”

“It was time for a change?” interrupted Ben with a smile.

“Yeah, something like that. What with the first shows coming up and all, I just didn’t want to be the same ol’ boring Cory Stenson I’ve always been.”

Ben frowned.

“Cory, firstly, your hair looks awesome. If I didn’t have these golden locks, I would have done the same as you.”

Cory couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Secondly,” Ben continued. “The fans, well, they aren’t going to appreciate because of something you’ve done to your hair. They’re going to appreciate you because of who you are.”

“Yeah?” asked Cory with a sense of self-doubt. “And who is that, exactly?”

Ben shook his head and stopped leaning against the tall locker; Cory never seemed to believe in himself.

“You’re Cory Stenson,” Ben stated. “Strong, athletic, polished, powerful, loyal, hardworking, earnest. You’re exactly who my grandfather wants to build Golden Pro Wrestling around.”

Cory looked back in the mirror and smiled again.

“You’re right, B,” the young man replied, running a comb through his green hair once more. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” said Ben, already exiting the locker room. “See you tomorrow.”

In the mirror, Cory saw a lot of things. Green hair, yes. But now he was finally starting to see the man he hoped he would become.