In the scorching streets of Miami, bathed in the sun, a boy jumped from the top of a course, performing three somersaults in mid-air before landing flawlessly on the concrete. Children around him shrieked, pulling out their phones to record it. That boy was Kayden Reyes. He was only 16, but already a legend – at least in his neighborhood.
Kayden was the youngest son of a Latino family. His father, Raul Reyes, had immigrated to America from Cuba in his youth and had once shaken the boxing ring in the lower weight classes. His mother, Isabella, was a salsa dance teacher; rhythm, flexibility, and the spotlight flowed through Kayden's veins. His siblings had made a name for themselves in street basketball or rap battles, but Kayden's dream was bigger: professional wrestling.
At 13, he enrolled in a local lucha school housed in a converted old warehouse. His coaches called him "demasiado loco" – too crazy. Because he wasn't afraid. Whether he was doing a diving moonsault from the corner, attempting a springboard hurricane, or submitting his opponent, there was only one thing in his eyes: the top.
His YouTube channel, "KaydenFlips," had exploded in popularity. Backyard wrestling videos, parkour clips, self-made highlights… He had over 150,000 subscribers, and the comments all said the same thing: "This kid should be in WWE."
And then the day arrived.
December 31, 2025. Florida Championship Wrestling's Christmas special mini-show. Only 300 people in the audience, the ring old and rusty, the lights flickering. But for Kayden, this was WrestleMania.
He stood in front of the mirror in the locker room. His black and white tights were newly made, without a logo yet. He tied his hair in a ponytail and took a deep breath. His coach, Miguel, came over.
"Your first match, son. Your opponent is 'Big Mike' Torres. 120 kilos, a powerbomb maniac. He wants to knock you down."
Kayden smiled. That famous charismatic smile – his green eyes sparkling.
"I want to blow him up too."
The door knocked. The attendant shouted: "Reyes, five minutes!"
His heart pounded in his ears as he stepped into the hallway. The music started – not yet his own entrance music, just the federation's generic trap beat. He saw the audience behind the curtain: some were filming with their phones, some didn't care, most recognized the local wrestlers.
But then, the curtains opened and Kayden Reyes walked towards the ring.
The audience watched silently at first. Then a kid shouted: "That's the YouTube kid!"
A few people applauded. Some muttered, "Who's this skinny dude?"
Big Mike was already waiting in the ring. 1.90 meters tall, 120 kilos, with a big belly and red tights, a true local heel. He took the microphone:
"Tonight your New Year's Eve starts with me, kids! And this little one… this little one will be my first victim!"
The audience started booing, but Kayden didn't say a word as he entered the ring. He just looked at his opponent. They made eye contact.
The bell rang.
Big Mike immediately attacked, running for the clothesline. Kayden ducked, got behind him, and landed a dropkick on his back. The crowd reacted with "Ooooh!"
Mike turned, caught Kayden, and put him in a suplex position. But Kayden spun in mid-air, attempted a cruzifix pin with counters – 1… 2… Mike threw it.
The match sped up. Kayden's speed was incredible. A springboard arm drag, a missile dropkick from the corner, then the most famous: a diving corkscrew moonsault out of the ring! The crowd rose to their feet. Phone lights flew through the air.
While Big Mike lay on the ground outside the ring, Kayden climbed into the corner. The crowd started chanting "This is awesome!" – even in a small hall.
But Mike was cunning. He got up while Kayden was in mid-air, caught him, and slammed him into the ring with a powerbomb. The crowd fell silent.
1… 2… Kayden threw it at the last moment.
Mike got angry, raised for a second powerbomb. But this time Kayden performed a hurricane counter, pinning Mike to the ground – but it wasn't enough.
The final moments. Kayden stepped into the corner, the crowd now shouting "Holy shit!"
He jumped into the air – that move that didn't yet have a name, but would later be known as the "Thunder Clash": a heel kick to the opponent's head while returning from the springboard, followed by a spinning DDT!
1… 2… 3!
The bell rang.
Kayden Reyes, at 16, had won his first professional fight.
The crowd rose to their feet and applauded. Some shouted "Encore!" Kayden knelt in the middle of the ring, his chest rising and falling. Beads of sweat dripped onto the floor.
He lifted his head and smiled.
The storm was just beginning.