Brandi Lauren didn’t break into wrestling so much as she floated into it—like a haunted daydream with legs that go on forever and a stare that could split glass. She didn’t come from the rough side of the tracks, but she made damn sure she earned every scar the long way. She’s been called a model, a starlet, a flavor of the week. But to those who’ve paid attention, who watched the rise and quiet fade of Ava Storie or the electric shimmer of Skyler Story, she’s something else entirely.
She’s a ghost in four-inch heels.
A half-smile in a world full of scowls.
A bruised flower in a business that only remembers the weeds.
Buffalo Baby, Built for the Burn
Born September 26, 1996, in Buffalo, New York—Brandi Lauren Pawelek arrived into the world like a spark in a snowstorm: easy to miss at first, but impossible to ignore once she caught fire. At 5’9” and built like a billboard fantasy, she had every reason to coast on looks. But Brandi didn’t coast. She trained under Jay Lethal, a man who doesn’t teach softness. She didn’t ask for respect—she earned it with bruises, sweat, and the kind of quiet toughness that gets lost in the noise of the loudmouths.
She debuted in 2016. March 5th. Remember the date, because it was the day the glitter met the grind.
Shine, Suffer, Survive
Her early years on the indie circuit were full of potholes and promise. Shine Wrestling took her in, chewed her up, and spit her out like every other dreamer with good cheekbones. She lost to Aria Blake. Then to Jessie Belle Smothers. Then Malia Hosaka. Then Thea Trinidad. One after the other, like a jazz song with no chorus—just pain, repetition, and a faint heartbeat that kept her showing up.
Most wrestlers drown in that stretch—the purgatory between potential and payday. But Brandi? She got better. Hungrier. Prettier, even, which pissed off everyone she beat along the way. On February 18, 2017, she snagged her first taste of gold—beating Lacey Lane for the inaugural Full Throttle Pro Wrestling Ladies Championship. It wasn’t Madison Square Garden, but it was hers.
It lasted 40 days.
Then Lindsey Snow snatched it in a gauntlet match, and Brandi was back to square one.
And square one is where she built her house.
Ava Storie and the Impact Mirage
In 2017, she walked into Impact Wrestling as Brandi Lauren and left as Ava Storie—a repackaged, rebranded, renamed hope, the kind they hand out to pretty girls with some seasoning and no direction. She tangled with Brandi Rhodes in a match that ended in a no contest. Her reward? A seat in a gauntlet battle royal where ODB got the shot, and Brandi got the bruises.
She lost to Angelina Love. She lost to Laurel Van Ness. She lost to Christina Von Eerie. At some point, even the most optimistic locker room prophets might’ve pulled her aside and said, “Kid, maybe modeling’s your lane.”
But then, October 1, 2017—Ava Storie beat Amber Nova. Her first win in Impact. A small victory, yes. But the kind that changes something deep inside you. Like finally getting the bartender’s name right after a year of drinking in silence.
It didn’t last.
By January 31, 2018, her profile moved to the alumni section. No press release. No swan song. Just gone.
She’d learned the wrestling world’s cruelest truth: pretty girls are replaceable. Survivors aren’t.
The NXT Curtain Call
In May 2018, WWE’s NXT gave her a dance. Under her real name, she got in the ring with Lacey Evans and took the pin. No shock. The machine doesn’t offer warm welcomes. On August 31, 2020, word broke that she’d signed officially. They gave her another new name—Skyler Story. Sounded like a perfume, felt like a branding experiment.
By May 2021, she was cut loose. No storyline, no spotlight, just another flame flicked out before it had the chance to burn.
Brandi didn’t complain.
She never does.
The Return Nobody Noticed
August 19, 2021—Impact again. Different year. Same silence. She wrestled Melina. Lost. No fanfare, no buildup, just another night at the office for a woman who’s seen every kind of indifference.
But there’s something weird about Brandi Lauren—she keeps showing up. Like a poem nobody wants to read out loud but can’t stop thinking about. She’s been Ava Storie, Brandi Lauren, Skyler Story. She’s been pushed down, pushed out, pushed aside. And every time she just smiles, reapplies the lip gloss, and shows up again in boots laced tighter than your tax refund.
She isn’t the loudest. She isn’t the biggest. She may never get a belt with her name etched in gold.
But she’s there.
And there, in this business, means everything.
A Model in a Monster’s World
You’ll find her face on calendars, glossy prints, and social media feeds that sizzle. But don’t be fooled—this isn’t some influencer dabbling in suplexes. Brandi Lauren’s a fighter. A woman who’s been sold the dream a dozen times and still sleeps with gloves on.
She doesn’t do five-star matches.
She is the intermission.
The breather between bloodbaths.
The calm before the next storm.
But don’t mistake quiet for weakness.
Because Brandi Lauren’s career is less about moments and more about survival.
She’s not your favorite wrestler.
She’s not even yours to understand.
She’s the background music you never skip.
The cut that never scars.
The story they didn’t finish—but that doesn’t mean it’s over.
Not yet.