Post by 🐝BumbleBree on Jun 26, 2020 18:22:37 GMT -8
I sit in the locker room looking down at the World Title draped across my lap as I perch on the bench. I pet it as though it were a lap pet such as a cat, stroking it slowly as though it were as preciously alive. I hum in a gentle manor, as though soothing over the emotional loss of the night as though it were the title that took the emotionally embarrassing beating that my body endowed earlier in the night.
I Lost…
The fact that will never be erased from my status of my first singles match since winning the top tier title of the federations. It didn’t bother me. I knew it was coming for various reasons. I know that Zachariah is a monster in the ring. He took out David Smith. He defeated Oliver Black for the Television title. He defeated the World Champion after only a month of earning it. Krahe was no joke to the federation. I was terrified to go against him, knowing what was coming, and yet, I still put on a brave face and attempted to do my best against him. I had zero chance of winning that match, and after everything Ive said and done, maybe it was coming to me. I deserved it. I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, and maybe it was the punishment I needed.
Standing, I place the title in a case and close it for safekeeping. I wouldn’t be needing it for a few more weeks for the next show scheduled at the end of June. I don’t care for accessories and I’m not the kind to gloat, especially about questionable conquests. So, I click the locks on the case sealing its contents inside for the time being. Lifting it, I then swoop up my duffle bag, having already showered and changed into my street clothes. It’s nearly summer but the heat still rises every day and lingers well into the night. Still, I dress in tight jeans with a tight comic looking shirt and converse sneakers. I kick the door open and exit the premise and head to my canary yellow colored topless jeep. I throw my contents into the back and then slide into the doorless vehicle and rev the engine to a gunning start. I hook up my bluetooth earpiece and then maneuver the car into reverse to pull out when I’m stopped from behind by a shiny sleek looking red car. My eyes narrowed into slits as I stare at the sporty looking thing. I don’t know cars but I can tell it comes from money. I slam my car into park, and exit out as the person sits behind tinted glass.
“What the hell?!” I yell waving my hands around in a WTF motion. I place my hands on my hips when the person remains behind the wheel.
Frustrated, I slam my hand on the hood of the car, praying I don’t leave any dents. I just want the person's attention. The door slowly opens and the sound of a click on the concrete is heard, echoing through the parking garage of the arena. A slim figure emerges and my eyes widen in recognition. I take a step back as a second click of a heel meets the slab under the car. The door swings shut and the slow steps of high heeled, probably Louis Vuitton, shoes meet me at the hood. I take a step back as the taller than me vixen leans against her own car, peering down at me with emerald colored eyes, piercing me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her, looking around for the one person who is usually with her.
“Warning you…” she states.
“Warning me?” I repeat as a question.
“What happened tonight and the events leading up to tonight would be an embarrassment not only on his part, but yours as well. I may not be able to come to every event, Aussie, but I see and know things. Don’t make me embarrass you publicly, Brianna, because it could further damage your little career more than you’ve already done on your own. Don’t let your career hinder when it’s only truly just begun.”
Her warning is crystal clear, and I know exactly what she’s referring too. A sly smirk makes its way on the corner of my lips.
“Where is he?” I ask looking around.
“Where he needs to be,” the red head says, taking a step back toward the running car.
“Retired?” I challenge.
“Awaiting,” is all she says before she steps into the car and shuts the door. She revs the engine for a moment before backing up a foot and peeling out.
I stare after the vehicle long after it's gone, and my heart races, my smirk still accounted for.
“He doesn’t need to wait, he knows I’ll give him a wrestling match anytime he wants,” I state more to myself, a naughty humor heard to myself.
I go back to my car and throw it back in reverse and as I pull out of the garage, I pull up my phone on the screen of the car and scroll down my contacts until I find a certain number.
“Hello?” is heard after three rings through my earpiece.
“We need to talk…” I state with authority.
(Scene fades)
……………………………………………………………….
JUNE 10th
This stay at home social distance order was driving me insane and I was more than happy to hear that the bar that I’ve been working at for a few months now was allowed to reopen its outdoor dining five days ago. When I got the call from my boss, asking me if I was interested in coming back as a waitress as the bar would be closed until indoor dining was reopened, I jumped at the opportunity. We had a meeting the Friday before the reopen to go over procedures of how the new normal would impact the way we worked, but it got me out of the house.
Sanitizer stations would be available throughout the building, tables would be spaced a minimum of six feet apart, and the restrooms would have six foot circles people would stand on to use a single stall to keep people from being too close at once. We would be required to wear the face masks, but that was the least of my worries. My worries were people wouldn’t come and be too paranoid of contracting the pandemic virus they would stick with takeout restaurants been thriving off of, lucky but my fears were answered the first night. Reservations made online made it a requirement for people to enter the building and those without would have to wait to see if a table was open. We were sold out of reservation times, and the restaurant didn’t put nearly enough waitstaff on to keep patrons happy but most were understanding.
Today it was just as crowded on a Wednesday as it was Friday and Saturday, full of people just as cabin fevered as I have been the last three months. I bring out an order when someone raises a hand at me indicating my attention. I set the basket of wings on a table and make my way over, clasping my hands together.
“What can I do for you?” I ask as politely as possible.
“I’ve been waiting for a refill for a while,” a man in his early fifty states.
“I’ll be right back with that. Anything else in need of refilling?” I ask.
“A round of water please, it’s scorching out tonight,” a woman fanning herself with a paper napkin.
“Coming up,” I say with false enthusiasm.
I turn and roll my eyes, mouthing under my breath beneath my mask. I make my way to the outdoor bar and lean against the counter on my elbow, hoisting myself off the floor so my feet dangle a few inches from the floor.
“Yo, Carlos, I need four waters and a diet Coke, stat!” I shout and he looks up at me and winks.
I lean further over the counter and pluck a cherry out of the fruit bin for mixed drinks. I plop it in my mouth after lowering my mask and bite into the maraschino goodness.
“I hope you wash your hands,” my boss's voice comes from behind. I roll my eyes before I turn around and smirk into my mask.
“Of course I am. After I bring these drinks to my number one customers!” I say sweetly.
“No, now, do you want to get this place closed down?” he asks.
I turn and march over behind the bar and wash my hands, drying them on a paper towel and throwing it away.
“Happy?” I ask with pep.
“Ecstatic,” he growls before turning away.
“All set, BriBri,” Carlos tells me and hands me a round tray with the drinks.
I thank him and head back over.
“Here you are,” I say and place the drinks on the table top.
“Finally,” the man says, picking up his diet coke and sucking it down.
I turn to face other patrons, scurrying around as my phone goes off. Taking a quick glance around to see if I’m wanted I allow myself a five minute break and go into a little cubby near the kitchen. I open up my email for the next card on Chaos and learn that I don’t have a title match at least, however I am in the main event once again.
“A bloody tag match?” I ask aloud.
And who is my bloke of a partner? My good old mate, Oliver Black!
I let out a sign and prop my head against the wall with a light thud. I look up at the ceiling, dread seeping through my body.
A tag match…
With my former partner….
In the main event….
Against some idiot named Van Halsted with enforcer….
Against Bombtrax……
This is going to be fun…. (Insert sarcasm)
…………………………………………
I set up the video camera on my laptop in my room. Hey, it’s all I can manage with people still on lockdown technically and the social distance thing is hurting for these kinds of promos. I can’t have a camera crew. I can’t go to the arena unless it's to film the matches, and I can’t go to the public gyms as I apparently normally do since they are still closed and don’t open til phase four, so I’m forced to resort to simpler methods.
I prop up on my bed, my feet in the air behind me, as I go live on my vlog page.
“Hey, there my little bumble-brees! I am excited to announce that this weekend I’ll be competing again in the ring and this time to hopefully redeem myself after the fiasco last time on Chaos when I got my arse handed to me by my fellow champion, Krahe. I have no ill words to say to him. He earned that win and I know I more than deserved that loss. All I can do is look forward to the future and hope for the best as this weeks competition draws closer,”
I take a deep breath and let out a small smile.
“This week, in a slight turn of events, I’m being reunited with my former Unholy Alliance member, Oliver Black, as we team up against Bombtrax and Enforcer teaming with Vin whatever his name is. Do I think Oliver and I have a chance to win this match? Possibly. If he can pull his epiphanies out of his ass long enough to help me get the job done. I could say screw this and say fuck this match, but as a World Champion, with a title that has a history of bad champions, I want to change that tradition. SO I won’t be backing out of this match. I’ll be participating in it wholeheartedly. “
I sit up and move the laptop to my lap, looking down into the lens.
“The last time I faced Bombtrax, I was tag teaming with my former tag team partner, Astrid Samson. I ultimately cost us the loss and this time I’m vowing to myself not to do the same thing. This week, I will be putting everything I can to cost us a win, but to also make sure that it’s not my fault that my team loses shall we not be the winning tag team. SO it would be a fair settlement for me to state that my goal, while it may be to win, is ultimately to not LOSE. I’ve gone up against Enforcer before in the past, I don’t even recall Vin Hilsteds name, but I’ve beaten enforcer on numerous occasions, the most recent being the World Title Tournament. I advanced to the final round, he not so much. That was a singles match, maybe this time as a tag team he will be a stronger competitor. When I was on a downward spiral, Astrid helped me to regain my confidence in tag team partnership mode when we became a solely dominant team until Bombtrax dethroned us. Maybe this week, the same will happen with Enforcer and he will relish in the tag team division as he has failed in the singles department.”
Standing, I carry my laptop out of my bedroom and walk down the hallway with it.
“To be frank, I am kind of confused about this match up. A tag team? This is only asking for a gluttony of punishment on my end. Forcing me to compete against Bombtrax, a sure way to make sure I don’t lose again, but adding gunpowder to the match by making me tag team with the one person I shouldn’t be trusting as a tag team partner with Oliver Black. He turned his back on me when we were the strongest Alliance in Iconic. He turned his back on me last Chaos when I called him out on his motive for turning on me to begin with. And in turn I turned on his bodyguard and laid him out flat when his muscle wasn’t around to play after departing because he obviously couldn’t face what was happening in the ring at the moment on Fade to Black. And you don’t think that Black will be looking for equality for laying out his brains when I drop kicked him on Chaos on his own show? Pfft.”
I shake my head at the failure of this booking.
“This isn’t going to be a triple threat tag team match. It’s going to turn into a fucking rumble. Enforcer has zero allegiance to Vin Halsted or whatever his name is. Like I hold no allegiance anymore to Oliver Black. Bombtrax will be sitting back eating the popcorn as we decimate each other because that’s what's bound to happen in the end. Oliver will do something stupid to fuck up this match, and I’ll be forced to react. Why not turn this into a fatal fourway and allow Youth and Cross to be special commentators or something for comic relief in this doom and gloom match.”
I enter the kitchen and put the laptop on the counter then open the fridge. I pull out a carton of milk and open it and take a small sip, leaving a white mustache on my upper lip. I then wipe the back of my hand to get rid of it and smirk into the camera.
“This match is as fucked up as Covid 19. It’s an epidemic full of viruses that no one can find a cure for. Once one is infected, we all become infected. It would certainly impact why there is a lack of activity going on in the backstage area. Maybe I am that virus. It seems as though since I’ve become the World Champion, some form of mutiny has been placed with the crew and some of them are bailing ships. No pun intended.”
I smirk as I put the milk back and pick up the camera once again.
“But that just means less people to get in my way when the real matches come back. For now though, I’ll have my hands full watching my back as I face Bombtrax, enforcer, Vin, and my own tag team partner. I’ve learned not to trust Oliver the hard way, and I won't fall for that same trap again. If I have to start the tag match, then I may need to finish it as well.”
I put the laptop down on my coffee table.
“But then after this match, the real fun will begin. Oliver has yet to answer for his true reasoning for turning on me, and I can’t let it go without one. He had some kind of hogwash about why he did, but then he couldn’t face my response, and after this match, I plan on placing my feet in front of him, and give him a reply of my own.”
I smirk.
“After this match, Ollie, after this one last hurrah of Unholy Alliance……… you sir, have further explaining to do, and next time, you will not walk away….. You’ll be crawling.”
I lean into the camera.
“Ollie Ollie Oxen Free… I’m coming for thee….”
……………………………
I enter the arena for the first time in weeks, and nearly three weeks since the reopening of restaurants. I’ve been busy and it’s kept me so busy that I’ve lost focus of this match the moment after it was announced. Working late shifts well after closing to sanitize everything that anyone may have touched. Waking early to serve the breakfast rush, going straight to lunch then a busy dinner service. People, mainly servers, were too afraid to come back so soon after the reopening and only a select few were brave enough to put back on a uniform and return to the work field. On my days off I spent most of the time catching up on sleep, and the weeks slipped by, everyone saying ‘I’ll start training Monday”... Three weeks have gone by, including Father's Day, not that I had much to do on that day as I have no idea who my father is, where he is, or if he’s still alive.
“Here we go again.”
It’s Chaos day, and I have only been at the private gym of my complex twice since the property managers opened it. Suddenly, everyone wants to use that gym so my time has been limited to making workouts work at home or running in the parks when it’s not so crowded.
“There is no way this is going to end well,” I mutter.
Slinging my duffle bag on the floor of the divas locker room I open up my bag and take out my signature uniformer. Black wrestling boots, black spandex shorts with a belt, a red printed shirt with a black skull embroidered across the chest, and fishnet tights. I set my hair in my signature ponytails and then quickly dress before the other divas can show up, if any of them do. I haven’t seen or heard of Avery Stardust since her signing and Brodie has once again gone into hibernation or some shit. Always late to the party, that one. Other than that, no other bitches have been assigned to a match, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Astrid made some kind of appearance.
“I really should reach out to that sheila,” I state under my breath.
It’s been a while since I’ve attempted to reach out to her, and as much as we will both claim we have attempted to, we both know that's a lie. We drifted. Maybe it was my new relationship with Oliver. I seemed to have chosen him over her, when the fact was that Astrid seemed to draw away from me since her sister came to live with her and her marriage to her new wife has taken up a lot more of her time. Joshua, although an asshole, is still my brother and I should try to rekindle some form of relationship with him.
“Oh Joshua, how much I’ve missed you,” I whisper with a smile.
Mostly the banters, but sometimes the insults.
Upon exiting the room, I am met with a glance. Butterscotch stands there with a microphone in hand, a smile plastered to her pretty face.
“Hey Champ, care if I get in a word?” she asks me.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the champion…” she starts.
“No, I mean, why do you always bother me?” I broadly ask.
“Well, you’re usually one of the first ones to arrive,” she states.
“It’s a curse,” I mutter.
“Brianna, last time on Chaos, you lost to Krahe in a non title match in a Champion versus Champion Battle! What do you do to move forward after such a devastating blow to your record?”
I shake my head and clear my throat, piercing my eyes at her to try and throw mental daggers at her head.
“Well, I guess I’ll start with this match, and attempt my shot at redemption against one of the best tag team members in Bombtrax. I’ve lost to them before and it would be nice to finally get some closure and finally defeat them for once in a bit of a tag pay back. If I can do that, that will be one more thing on my check off list of accomplishments, and then we can go from there.”
“You kept telling everyone that your goal as the new champion was to bring honor to it. How do you feel you are doing thus far since winning the title? Do you feel that loss has hindered the chances of you reviving the titles worth and polishing it back to the top title on the ladder?”
My smirk twitches.
“Well, of course it didn’t help it. But I don’t think it hindered it either. The last time a female held the title, she quit within 1 day. So far, I’ve held it for 1 month. I’m not saying it’s a huge accomplishment as I haven’t had to defend it thus far, but I haven't quit over the pressure of holding it. I haven’t gone MIA like our last champion, Mike Mason after winning it. I showed up to my first match, and I competed as hard as I could for it. I’m showing up again for my second consecutive match. So I think it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Do you regret not walking away last Chaos as you contemplated?”
“I only contemplated because I knew what the outcome was going to be. I didn’t go in there blinded by a point to prove. I went in there and accepted the outcome of a prestigious match. I didn’t make it easy for Krahe if I can pat myself on the back for that one, but I didn’t want to be the kind of champion that when faced with a real challenge, gave up. Even if I lose my title in my next match, or whenever I’m forced to put it on the line, then I’ll go down as a champion that gave it my all in every match while I held the title.”
“Last Chaos you were also the featured star of Fade to Black. After what happened at Civil War it was your first close encounter with the Benedict Arnold of Unholy Alliance. You called him out and he kind of gave a vague answer before he abandoned you once again in the ring. Now, this week, he is your tag team partner. How do you go about this match and approaching the ring with the man you should be watching over your shoulder for, is standing right beside you?”
I place my hands on my hip and pop it out cocking my head.
“There’s no reason to watch out for Oliver over my shoulder. When he attacked me at Civil War, he did so to my face. I wasn’t turned around. He didn’t attack me from behind. He didn’t stab me in the back. He stabbed me in the heart. When it comes to Oliver, he’s like a puzzle. First, you start with the border to get the edge pieces out of the way. He did that when he declared war against me when I won the World Championship. Last Chaos, he separated the patterns. He figured out what the image was and announced what it was he was looking at. The World Champion. Now, he’s trying to fit the remaining puzzle pieces in, but some of them wont fit where it looks like the patterns match. I’m not afraid of this match and his opportunity to turn on me because he hasn’t finished separating the pieces into sections yet. If anyone knows how Oliver Black works, it’s me. He bides his time, he doesn’t rush and if he has nothing to gain, he won’t force the pieces together if they don’t align with his end game. He’s taking his moment to linger in the background, and he apparently wants me to see the bigger picture. He already knows what the final image to his endgame looks like and he’s giving me one piece at a time to place on the board until I can finally see the finished product. I have an inkling on what it is. But I’ll wait for him to put the last piece of the puzzle together and announce what it is he’s officially after…. And WHY.”
“You have more to gain from a win this week and more to lose in a loss than anyone involved in this match. If you’re the one pinned, it will prove you aren’t as strong as a competitor the World Title deserves and if you win are the one doing the pinning, you’re proving to the world that you still have what it takes to come out on top. But what happens if you're neither the one pinned nor the one doing the pinning?”
“Meaning if Oliver wins it for our team or if one of the other teams pins the other? I’d call it a draw. It means I'm neither the weakest link nore the best competitor of the night. But tonight, you were right. There is more on the line at stake than reputations. And maybe instead of concentrating on the other people involved in this match, I should be concentrating on another tactic.”
“What do you mean by that?”
My smirk returns.
“Maybe, instead of coming out here and attempting to do what I feel I should be doing, I should be coming out and doing what I NEED to be doing.”
“And what would that be?”
I glare at Butterscotch.
“Anything it takes to win.”
With that I flip my braid over my shoulder and start to skip down the hallway humming, looking over my shoulder as I go at the camera, a wicked grin and a wink.
Time to start putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
`
I Lost…
The fact that will never be erased from my status of my first singles match since winning the top tier title of the federations. It didn’t bother me. I knew it was coming for various reasons. I know that Zachariah is a monster in the ring. He took out David Smith. He defeated Oliver Black for the Television title. He defeated the World Champion after only a month of earning it. Krahe was no joke to the federation. I was terrified to go against him, knowing what was coming, and yet, I still put on a brave face and attempted to do my best against him. I had zero chance of winning that match, and after everything Ive said and done, maybe it was coming to me. I deserved it. I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, and maybe it was the punishment I needed.
Standing, I place the title in a case and close it for safekeeping. I wouldn’t be needing it for a few more weeks for the next show scheduled at the end of June. I don’t care for accessories and I’m not the kind to gloat, especially about questionable conquests. So, I click the locks on the case sealing its contents inside for the time being. Lifting it, I then swoop up my duffle bag, having already showered and changed into my street clothes. It’s nearly summer but the heat still rises every day and lingers well into the night. Still, I dress in tight jeans with a tight comic looking shirt and converse sneakers. I kick the door open and exit the premise and head to my canary yellow colored topless jeep. I throw my contents into the back and then slide into the doorless vehicle and rev the engine to a gunning start. I hook up my bluetooth earpiece and then maneuver the car into reverse to pull out when I’m stopped from behind by a shiny sleek looking red car. My eyes narrowed into slits as I stare at the sporty looking thing. I don’t know cars but I can tell it comes from money. I slam my car into park, and exit out as the person sits behind tinted glass.
“What the hell?!” I yell waving my hands around in a WTF motion. I place my hands on my hips when the person remains behind the wheel.
Frustrated, I slam my hand on the hood of the car, praying I don’t leave any dents. I just want the person's attention. The door slowly opens and the sound of a click on the concrete is heard, echoing through the parking garage of the arena. A slim figure emerges and my eyes widen in recognition. I take a step back as a second click of a heel meets the slab under the car. The door swings shut and the slow steps of high heeled, probably Louis Vuitton, shoes meet me at the hood. I take a step back as the taller than me vixen leans against her own car, peering down at me with emerald colored eyes, piercing me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her, looking around for the one person who is usually with her.
“Warning you…” she states.
“Warning me?” I repeat as a question.
“What happened tonight and the events leading up to tonight would be an embarrassment not only on his part, but yours as well. I may not be able to come to every event, Aussie, but I see and know things. Don’t make me embarrass you publicly, Brianna, because it could further damage your little career more than you’ve already done on your own. Don’t let your career hinder when it’s only truly just begun.”
Her warning is crystal clear, and I know exactly what she’s referring too. A sly smirk makes its way on the corner of my lips.
“Where is he?” I ask looking around.
“Where he needs to be,” the red head says, taking a step back toward the running car.
“Retired?” I challenge.
“Awaiting,” is all she says before she steps into the car and shuts the door. She revs the engine for a moment before backing up a foot and peeling out.
I stare after the vehicle long after it's gone, and my heart races, my smirk still accounted for.
“He doesn’t need to wait, he knows I’ll give him a wrestling match anytime he wants,” I state more to myself, a naughty humor heard to myself.
I go back to my car and throw it back in reverse and as I pull out of the garage, I pull up my phone on the screen of the car and scroll down my contacts until I find a certain number.
“Hello?” is heard after three rings through my earpiece.
“We need to talk…” I state with authority.
(Scene fades)
……………………………………………………………….
JUNE 10th
This stay at home social distance order was driving me insane and I was more than happy to hear that the bar that I’ve been working at for a few months now was allowed to reopen its outdoor dining five days ago. When I got the call from my boss, asking me if I was interested in coming back as a waitress as the bar would be closed until indoor dining was reopened, I jumped at the opportunity. We had a meeting the Friday before the reopen to go over procedures of how the new normal would impact the way we worked, but it got me out of the house.
Sanitizer stations would be available throughout the building, tables would be spaced a minimum of six feet apart, and the restrooms would have six foot circles people would stand on to use a single stall to keep people from being too close at once. We would be required to wear the face masks, but that was the least of my worries. My worries were people wouldn’t come and be too paranoid of contracting the pandemic virus they would stick with takeout restaurants been thriving off of, lucky but my fears were answered the first night. Reservations made online made it a requirement for people to enter the building and those without would have to wait to see if a table was open. We were sold out of reservation times, and the restaurant didn’t put nearly enough waitstaff on to keep patrons happy but most were understanding.
Today it was just as crowded on a Wednesday as it was Friday and Saturday, full of people just as cabin fevered as I have been the last three months. I bring out an order when someone raises a hand at me indicating my attention. I set the basket of wings on a table and make my way over, clasping my hands together.
“What can I do for you?” I ask as politely as possible.
“I’ve been waiting for a refill for a while,” a man in his early fifty states.
“I’ll be right back with that. Anything else in need of refilling?” I ask.
“A round of water please, it’s scorching out tonight,” a woman fanning herself with a paper napkin.
“Coming up,” I say with false enthusiasm.
I turn and roll my eyes, mouthing under my breath beneath my mask. I make my way to the outdoor bar and lean against the counter on my elbow, hoisting myself off the floor so my feet dangle a few inches from the floor.
“Yo, Carlos, I need four waters and a diet Coke, stat!” I shout and he looks up at me and winks.
I lean further over the counter and pluck a cherry out of the fruit bin for mixed drinks. I plop it in my mouth after lowering my mask and bite into the maraschino goodness.
“I hope you wash your hands,” my boss's voice comes from behind. I roll my eyes before I turn around and smirk into my mask.
“Of course I am. After I bring these drinks to my number one customers!” I say sweetly.
“No, now, do you want to get this place closed down?” he asks.
I turn and march over behind the bar and wash my hands, drying them on a paper towel and throwing it away.
“Happy?” I ask with pep.
“Ecstatic,” he growls before turning away.
“All set, BriBri,” Carlos tells me and hands me a round tray with the drinks.
I thank him and head back over.
“Here you are,” I say and place the drinks on the table top.
“Finally,” the man says, picking up his diet coke and sucking it down.
I turn to face other patrons, scurrying around as my phone goes off. Taking a quick glance around to see if I’m wanted I allow myself a five minute break and go into a little cubby near the kitchen. I open up my email for the next card on Chaos and learn that I don’t have a title match at least, however I am in the main event once again.
“A bloody tag match?” I ask aloud.
And who is my bloke of a partner? My good old mate, Oliver Black!
I let out a sign and prop my head against the wall with a light thud. I look up at the ceiling, dread seeping through my body.
A tag match…
With my former partner….
In the main event….
Against some idiot named Van Halsted with enforcer….
Against Bombtrax……
This is going to be fun…. (Insert sarcasm)
…………………………………………
I set up the video camera on my laptop in my room. Hey, it’s all I can manage with people still on lockdown technically and the social distance thing is hurting for these kinds of promos. I can’t have a camera crew. I can’t go to the arena unless it's to film the matches, and I can’t go to the public gyms as I apparently normally do since they are still closed and don’t open til phase four, so I’m forced to resort to simpler methods.
I prop up on my bed, my feet in the air behind me, as I go live on my vlog page.
“Hey, there my little bumble-brees! I am excited to announce that this weekend I’ll be competing again in the ring and this time to hopefully redeem myself after the fiasco last time on Chaos when I got my arse handed to me by my fellow champion, Krahe. I have no ill words to say to him. He earned that win and I know I more than deserved that loss. All I can do is look forward to the future and hope for the best as this weeks competition draws closer,”
I take a deep breath and let out a small smile.
“This week, in a slight turn of events, I’m being reunited with my former Unholy Alliance member, Oliver Black, as we team up against Bombtrax and Enforcer teaming with Vin whatever his name is. Do I think Oliver and I have a chance to win this match? Possibly. If he can pull his epiphanies out of his ass long enough to help me get the job done. I could say screw this and say fuck this match, but as a World Champion, with a title that has a history of bad champions, I want to change that tradition. SO I won’t be backing out of this match. I’ll be participating in it wholeheartedly. “
I sit up and move the laptop to my lap, looking down into the lens.
“The last time I faced Bombtrax, I was tag teaming with my former tag team partner, Astrid Samson. I ultimately cost us the loss and this time I’m vowing to myself not to do the same thing. This week, I will be putting everything I can to cost us a win, but to also make sure that it’s not my fault that my team loses shall we not be the winning tag team. SO it would be a fair settlement for me to state that my goal, while it may be to win, is ultimately to not LOSE. I’ve gone up against Enforcer before in the past, I don’t even recall Vin Hilsteds name, but I’ve beaten enforcer on numerous occasions, the most recent being the World Title Tournament. I advanced to the final round, he not so much. That was a singles match, maybe this time as a tag team he will be a stronger competitor. When I was on a downward spiral, Astrid helped me to regain my confidence in tag team partnership mode when we became a solely dominant team until Bombtrax dethroned us. Maybe this week, the same will happen with Enforcer and he will relish in the tag team division as he has failed in the singles department.”
Standing, I carry my laptop out of my bedroom and walk down the hallway with it.
“To be frank, I am kind of confused about this match up. A tag team? This is only asking for a gluttony of punishment on my end. Forcing me to compete against Bombtrax, a sure way to make sure I don’t lose again, but adding gunpowder to the match by making me tag team with the one person I shouldn’t be trusting as a tag team partner with Oliver Black. He turned his back on me when we were the strongest Alliance in Iconic. He turned his back on me last Chaos when I called him out on his motive for turning on me to begin with. And in turn I turned on his bodyguard and laid him out flat when his muscle wasn’t around to play after departing because he obviously couldn’t face what was happening in the ring at the moment on Fade to Black. And you don’t think that Black will be looking for equality for laying out his brains when I drop kicked him on Chaos on his own show? Pfft.”
I shake my head at the failure of this booking.
“This isn’t going to be a triple threat tag team match. It’s going to turn into a fucking rumble. Enforcer has zero allegiance to Vin Halsted or whatever his name is. Like I hold no allegiance anymore to Oliver Black. Bombtrax will be sitting back eating the popcorn as we decimate each other because that’s what's bound to happen in the end. Oliver will do something stupid to fuck up this match, and I’ll be forced to react. Why not turn this into a fatal fourway and allow Youth and Cross to be special commentators or something for comic relief in this doom and gloom match.”
I enter the kitchen and put the laptop on the counter then open the fridge. I pull out a carton of milk and open it and take a small sip, leaving a white mustache on my upper lip. I then wipe the back of my hand to get rid of it and smirk into the camera.
“This match is as fucked up as Covid 19. It’s an epidemic full of viruses that no one can find a cure for. Once one is infected, we all become infected. It would certainly impact why there is a lack of activity going on in the backstage area. Maybe I am that virus. It seems as though since I’ve become the World Champion, some form of mutiny has been placed with the crew and some of them are bailing ships. No pun intended.”
I smirk as I put the milk back and pick up the camera once again.
“But that just means less people to get in my way when the real matches come back. For now though, I’ll have my hands full watching my back as I face Bombtrax, enforcer, Vin, and my own tag team partner. I’ve learned not to trust Oliver the hard way, and I won't fall for that same trap again. If I have to start the tag match, then I may need to finish it as well.”
I put the laptop down on my coffee table.
“But then after this match, the real fun will begin. Oliver has yet to answer for his true reasoning for turning on me, and I can’t let it go without one. He had some kind of hogwash about why he did, but then he couldn’t face my response, and after this match, I plan on placing my feet in front of him, and give him a reply of my own.”
I smirk.
“After this match, Ollie, after this one last hurrah of Unholy Alliance……… you sir, have further explaining to do, and next time, you will not walk away….. You’ll be crawling.”
I lean into the camera.
“Ollie Ollie Oxen Free… I’m coming for thee….”
……………………………
I enter the arena for the first time in weeks, and nearly three weeks since the reopening of restaurants. I’ve been busy and it’s kept me so busy that I’ve lost focus of this match the moment after it was announced. Working late shifts well after closing to sanitize everything that anyone may have touched. Waking early to serve the breakfast rush, going straight to lunch then a busy dinner service. People, mainly servers, were too afraid to come back so soon after the reopening and only a select few were brave enough to put back on a uniform and return to the work field. On my days off I spent most of the time catching up on sleep, and the weeks slipped by, everyone saying ‘I’ll start training Monday”... Three weeks have gone by, including Father's Day, not that I had much to do on that day as I have no idea who my father is, where he is, or if he’s still alive.
“Here we go again.”
It’s Chaos day, and I have only been at the private gym of my complex twice since the property managers opened it. Suddenly, everyone wants to use that gym so my time has been limited to making workouts work at home or running in the parks when it’s not so crowded.
“There is no way this is going to end well,” I mutter.
Slinging my duffle bag on the floor of the divas locker room I open up my bag and take out my signature uniformer. Black wrestling boots, black spandex shorts with a belt, a red printed shirt with a black skull embroidered across the chest, and fishnet tights. I set my hair in my signature ponytails and then quickly dress before the other divas can show up, if any of them do. I haven’t seen or heard of Avery Stardust since her signing and Brodie has once again gone into hibernation or some shit. Always late to the party, that one. Other than that, no other bitches have been assigned to a match, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Astrid made some kind of appearance.
“I really should reach out to that sheila,” I state under my breath.
It’s been a while since I’ve attempted to reach out to her, and as much as we will both claim we have attempted to, we both know that's a lie. We drifted. Maybe it was my new relationship with Oliver. I seemed to have chosen him over her, when the fact was that Astrid seemed to draw away from me since her sister came to live with her and her marriage to her new wife has taken up a lot more of her time. Joshua, although an asshole, is still my brother and I should try to rekindle some form of relationship with him.
“Oh Joshua, how much I’ve missed you,” I whisper with a smile.
Mostly the banters, but sometimes the insults.
Upon exiting the room, I am met with a glance. Butterscotch stands there with a microphone in hand, a smile plastered to her pretty face.
“Hey Champ, care if I get in a word?” she asks me.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the champion…” she starts.
“No, I mean, why do you always bother me?” I broadly ask.
“Well, you’re usually one of the first ones to arrive,” she states.
“It’s a curse,” I mutter.
“Brianna, last time on Chaos, you lost to Krahe in a non title match in a Champion versus Champion Battle! What do you do to move forward after such a devastating blow to your record?”
I shake my head and clear my throat, piercing my eyes at her to try and throw mental daggers at her head.
“Well, I guess I’ll start with this match, and attempt my shot at redemption against one of the best tag team members in Bombtrax. I’ve lost to them before and it would be nice to finally get some closure and finally defeat them for once in a bit of a tag pay back. If I can do that, that will be one more thing on my check off list of accomplishments, and then we can go from there.”
“You kept telling everyone that your goal as the new champion was to bring honor to it. How do you feel you are doing thus far since winning the title? Do you feel that loss has hindered the chances of you reviving the titles worth and polishing it back to the top title on the ladder?”
My smirk twitches.
“Well, of course it didn’t help it. But I don’t think it hindered it either. The last time a female held the title, she quit within 1 day. So far, I’ve held it for 1 month. I’m not saying it’s a huge accomplishment as I haven’t had to defend it thus far, but I haven't quit over the pressure of holding it. I haven’t gone MIA like our last champion, Mike Mason after winning it. I showed up to my first match, and I competed as hard as I could for it. I’m showing up again for my second consecutive match. So I think it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Do you regret not walking away last Chaos as you contemplated?”
“I only contemplated because I knew what the outcome was going to be. I didn’t go in there blinded by a point to prove. I went in there and accepted the outcome of a prestigious match. I didn’t make it easy for Krahe if I can pat myself on the back for that one, but I didn’t want to be the kind of champion that when faced with a real challenge, gave up. Even if I lose my title in my next match, or whenever I’m forced to put it on the line, then I’ll go down as a champion that gave it my all in every match while I held the title.”
“Last Chaos you were also the featured star of Fade to Black. After what happened at Civil War it was your first close encounter with the Benedict Arnold of Unholy Alliance. You called him out and he kind of gave a vague answer before he abandoned you once again in the ring. Now, this week, he is your tag team partner. How do you go about this match and approaching the ring with the man you should be watching over your shoulder for, is standing right beside you?”
I place my hands on my hip and pop it out cocking my head.
“There’s no reason to watch out for Oliver over my shoulder. When he attacked me at Civil War, he did so to my face. I wasn’t turned around. He didn’t attack me from behind. He didn’t stab me in the back. He stabbed me in the heart. When it comes to Oliver, he’s like a puzzle. First, you start with the border to get the edge pieces out of the way. He did that when he declared war against me when I won the World Championship. Last Chaos, he separated the patterns. He figured out what the image was and announced what it was he was looking at. The World Champion. Now, he’s trying to fit the remaining puzzle pieces in, but some of them wont fit where it looks like the patterns match. I’m not afraid of this match and his opportunity to turn on me because he hasn’t finished separating the pieces into sections yet. If anyone knows how Oliver Black works, it’s me. He bides his time, he doesn’t rush and if he has nothing to gain, he won’t force the pieces together if they don’t align with his end game. He’s taking his moment to linger in the background, and he apparently wants me to see the bigger picture. He already knows what the final image to his endgame looks like and he’s giving me one piece at a time to place on the board until I can finally see the finished product. I have an inkling on what it is. But I’ll wait for him to put the last piece of the puzzle together and announce what it is he’s officially after…. And WHY.”
“You have more to gain from a win this week and more to lose in a loss than anyone involved in this match. If you’re the one pinned, it will prove you aren’t as strong as a competitor the World Title deserves and if you win are the one doing the pinning, you’re proving to the world that you still have what it takes to come out on top. But what happens if you're neither the one pinned nor the one doing the pinning?”
“Meaning if Oliver wins it for our team or if one of the other teams pins the other? I’d call it a draw. It means I'm neither the weakest link nore the best competitor of the night. But tonight, you were right. There is more on the line at stake than reputations. And maybe instead of concentrating on the other people involved in this match, I should be concentrating on another tactic.”
“What do you mean by that?”
My smirk returns.
“Maybe, instead of coming out here and attempting to do what I feel I should be doing, I should be coming out and doing what I NEED to be doing.”
“And what would that be?”
I glare at Butterscotch.
“Anything it takes to win.”
With that I flip my braid over my shoulder and start to skip down the hallway humming, looking over my shoulder as I go at the camera, a wicked grin and a wink.
Time to start putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
`
