10-11-2019, 05:26 AM
10-15-2019, 10:41 PM
September 12, 2019 - Cleveland - Hospital
Jordan sits up on a hospital bed with her left leg elevated. She’s still wearing her top from her gear in the early morning hours of Thursday. A pair of shorts are now on her legs. She sighs as she leans back and holds ice against the top of her knee. A doctor walks into the room and looks down at her before his eyes trail back to the chart in his hand. Jordan perks up enough to pull herself back up.
Doctor: We’ve run a lot of tests. We have the MRI results… I think we’re looking at a pretty intense sprain of the MCL. The MCL supports the knee along its inner side. It looks like there could be a small tear in the ligament. That’s why it’s feeling difficult to put so much weight on it while you’re standing. Probably going to take you out for three to four weeks. I’d suggest you see a specialist, too. I’m sure your company will help with that. But that’s what I see. Any questions?
Jordan leans back and covers her eyes for a moment. The doctor stands there silently to give her a few seconds to process.
Jordan: I’ll be fine. No questions.
Doctor: Are you sure?
Jordan: Can I get out of here?
Doctor: Of course.
The doctor helps Jordan stand up and hands her a pair of crutches and makes sure she is capable of making her way around the room. She struggles, but starts to get the hang of it. Grabbing her phone from a nearby table, she sends her friend Bree a text and then sends a text to someone else: “I’m coming there. I have to rehab my knee. I want to be there. See you soon.” Despite her circumstance, sending the text makes her smile. Her phone dings a sound called Liberty Bell and she looks at the incoming text from Bree. Someone is on their way to get her. She sits down on a chair in the room and gets on the internet. Time to book a flight to New Orleans.
September 18, 2019 - New Orleans - CrescentCity Fitness
Jordan stretches to each side, wincing slightly as she reaches down her left side to touch her toes. She lifts each knee one at a time, adjusting the bulky brace on her left knee and letting out a big sigh as she leans down at places her hands on a weight bar. Her eyes scan side to side as she looks at the amount of weight on the bar, then they look down at the bar as she lifts it up and places it behind her head. She starts down in a squat and pushes back up slowly and smiles. Perfect, she thinks. She goes for another one and this time she lets out a shriek and drops the weight backward. Jordan falls forward and the weight goes backward and hits the ground with a loud thud.
Wyatt: Damnit! Be careful!
Wyatt Lancaster comes storming over toward Jordan from across the gym both out of concern for her and the equipment. He surveys the bar and rolls it back towards Jordan and then surveys her on the ground.
Wyatt: You need some help?
Jordan looks up and then reaches up for a hand, but Wyatt turns away and rolls the weight bar into position where it belongs.
Wyatt: You’re that girl…
Jordan: That girl? You mean Bree’s friend.
Wyatt: Right. Yes. You’re that friend of Bree’s. I’ve seen you around here lately. Surprised to see someone who lives on the west coast hanging out at my gym so much.
Jordan: How do you know where I --
Wyatt: You’re friends with my sister, remember? And she isn’t even in the state right now so I don’t think you’re here for her.
Jordan: Uhh… Well I hurt my knee last week and I know you’re really good with knee injuries. Well, I heard that you are. From, uh, Bree. So I thought maybe you could help if I needed help, which obviously I do. Look at me. I couldn’t get through a set of squats.
Wyatt: I hope you’re stronger than this when it comes to other things.
Jordan: This is just a setback.
Wyatt: I’m not talking about your knee. Don’t act like I’m naive.
There’s an awkward silence between the two of them and Wyatt leaves Jordan standing there to head back to his office. Jordan watches him and sees him talking to someone, but she tries to ignore it and move on back to her workout. She studies the bar and the weights nearby and considers changing the amounts. Going down to her hands and knees she starts to take one side of the weights off of the bar.
Woman: How’s the knee?
Jordan: Ah!
Jordan clutches at her chest and falls over on the mat, turning to look up and see Amy Chastaine standing over her. Damnit, she thought. Could this get any worse?
Amy: Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.
Jordan: It’s ok, I just didn’t see you there.
Amy: Wyatt said you came here because of your knee. Because Bree told you he’s an expert? Doesn’t sound like something Bree would say. He’s mainly a personal trainer, he’s just a little knowledgable about knees because of mine.
Jordan: And that’s why I thought I would come here.
Amy: To New Orleans? Again? Don’t you live in Los Angeles? That’s what Bree said.
Jordan: Wait, you talked to Bree about me?
Amy says nothing but just smiles and tilts her head slightly.
Amy: So that loud noise I heard when I was in Wyatt’s office? That was you he was checking on, wasn’t it?
Jordan narrows her eyes as she looks back at Amy and then stands up and crosses her arms.
Amy: Did the bar slip?
Jordan: Yeah… I thought I could support the weight, but maybe I’m not ready. I just felt my left knee give out.
Amy: You have to be careful. You can keep working out, but don’t push the ligaments so much that you turn a partial tear into something much worse.
Jordan looks down at her knee and the brace that adorns it like its own personal crown. Without looking at Amy, she reverses course.
Jordan: So why were you and Bree talking about me?
Amy seems to sense what Jordan is doing and grins.
Amy: I had some questions I wanted answered based on my observations. It isn’t something you need to be worried about. Unless I need to be worried about you?
Amy gives Jordan a little smile and starts to walk away, leaving with the last word before Jordan could even respond. Jordan takes a step back and sits down on a nearby weight bench and watches as Amy goes back into Wyatt’s office. She can tell they are talking and sees Wyatt look out toward her, basically confirming they are discussing her.
Jordan: Crap…
Jordan mutters to herself and looks down at her left knee. She slowly detaches the brace from her leg and examines herself before putting it back on. As she looks up, she sees Wyatt standing right there in front of her.
Wyatt: I was talking to Amy, and... I’ve decided I’m going to help you as much as I can to get your knee ready to go so you can get back to the ring. But I want to see you committed to getting back. I don’t want to hear anything about why else you’re here in New Orleans, and why you aren’t spending a fortune on some personal trainer out west.
Jordan: I wanted results.
Wyatt: I don’t need any excuses for why you’re here. But if you’re here, we’re going to get to work. Now, stand up and grab that bar. I want to see your form when you try that squat again.
Jordan smiles away from Wyatt so he can’t see and gets in position. As she gets the bar in position she sees Amy near the entry of the gym staring her down. Amy looks at Wyatt behind her and nods and Jordan turns to see what’s going on, but Wyatt motions to the bar.
Wyatt: Let’s not waste time.
September 22, 2019 - New Orleans - Amy’s Safe House
Jordan and Jaina Lancaster approach the door of a dark house and Jordan turns on her phone’s flashlight and flashes it at a panel. Jaina punches in a few numbers and looks back smiling as she opens the door and walks inside.
Jordan: Are you sure about this? What is this place?
Jaina: I told you. It’s fine. This is my mom’s safe house for victims of domestic violence. But it’s not being used right now so it’s all ours.
Jaina walks around flipping a few switches to illuminate the home. Jordan surveys the area before turning and closing the door. She lets a backpack hang off of one shoulder as she turns around and has Jaina’s lips right on hers. She smiles around the kiss and pulls Jaina closer. When the kiss breaks they look at each other and there’s a giggle between them. Jaina grabs Jordan and pulls her back toward a room.
Jaina: Set the laptop on the bed, I’ll get it going.
Jordan drops the backpack on the bed and unzips it, pulling out a laptop. Jaina grabs it and opens it up, navigating several windows before sound starts coming out of it. She lays on the bed on her stomach and leans on her elbows, watching the Apocalypse pay per view on the screen. Jordan walks around the bed and lays down next to her to join her. A few hours pass as they watch the show and laugh together. At times they lost track of the show as they talked about randoms and got into a tickle fight with Jordan pinning Jaina to the bed. Ending that fight, Jordan gets up to walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. She hears the computer go quiet and sets her glass on the counter and walks toward the dimly lit room. As she enters, Jaina pushes her up against the wall with a smile.
Jordan: Didn’t I just win this fight?
Jaina: I thought you might want your prize?
Jordan smiles and leans her head back against the wall.
Jordan: Are we not going to wait anymore? Thought you wanted to be safe…
Jaina: It is safe. Did I never tell you that in Louisiana, the age of consent is 17?
Jaina grins wickedly and presses her lips against Jordan’s, quickly deepening the kiss. She reaches for Jordan’s hands and grasps them, pushing them back against the wall and eliciting a laugh from Jordan.
Jordan: Are you sure about this?
Jaina: It’s why I wanted to come here. It’s what I wanted. We have privacy here. We can do whatever we want.
Jordan stares into Jaina’s eyes. She sucks her bottom lip under her teeth and lets an anxious sigh slip from her lips.
Jordan: I just want you…
Jaina’s lips curl into a wide grin and she presses back against Jordan and then pulls her away from the wall and stumbles toward the bed. They fall onto the bed and the laptop bounces off to the side, crashing to the floor as they tangle together on top of the sheets.
September 23, 2019 - New Orleans - Amy’s Safe House
The sun shines in through the window and illuminates a bed as it peeks over the horizon. The light wakes Jordan as she sits up in bed wearing a Beauty Factory t-shirt and loose shorts. She lets her legs hang off the side and to the floor and rubs her eyes. She turns and looks back to see Jaina still asleep and facing away from the window. For a moment her mind thinks back to right after she inherited all that money. Different women all the time in extravagant hotels all across the world. And somehow, being in this house and with this girl was better than any of that ever could have been. She smiles and slides her legs back under the covers and cuddles up to Jaina from behind.
Jaina: (Mumbles) Good morning…
Jordan: A very good morning.
Jaina smiles and pulls Jordan tighter against her.
Jaina: I told you we shouldn’t wait anymore.
October 9, 2019 - Oklahoma City - Backstage at Chesapeake Energy Arena
Jordan walks into the locker room with a big smile on her face. She sits down on a bench and looks down at her left leg. She rolls the tights up on that side and reveals a small knee brace. She leans forward on her elbows and lets out a happy sigh and then pumps her first with no one watching. Her phone rings in for a Facetime call from Jaina and her face lights up as she answers. Immediately Jaina looks excited.
Jaina: Babe! You looked amazing!
Jordan: Thank you! Mwah. I was a little nervous but it felt good. And then I thought I was going to fight Peyton.
Jaina: You are.
Jordan: What?
Jaina giggles and looks at Jordan knowing she doesn’t know yet.
Jaina: You clearly haven’t seen the SCW website yet. You have a title match next week against Peyton.
Jordan: Oh! Wow! I didn’t know.
Jaina: Apparently they liked that little face-to-face staredown. I know I did. Would have liked it more if you punched her in the face.
Jordan laughs and tilts her head.
Jaina: Just saying. I’d like nothing more than to see you really kick her ass next week. Drag her around the ring by her hair.
Jordan: Jaina? Wow?
Jaina: I’m fine. Just, not a Peyton Rice fan like so many others out there seem to be. Plus, come on, the Television title would be great for your career. I would love to see you with a championship!
Jordan: I would, too. She’s on a roll with that thing.
Jaina: No one will be expecting you to beat her. Everyone thinks she’ll win.
Jordan: Uh, thanks for the motivation. I think.
Jaina: No, that’s what I’m saying. You can do the unthinkable. Everyone remembers the match when you were acting all dumb.
Jordan: Jaina…
Jaina: Like, look at me and all of my money. I’ll buy the title.
Jordan: Jaina, I get it…
Jaina: And then she threw you all around the ring and really took it to you.
Jordan: Yeah, I remember it clearly, ok? It’s not going to be the same this time. I’m not the same wrestler that I was then. Hell, I’m not even the same person. I was in over my head. I was, I don’t know…
Jaina: Acting like an idiot?
Jordan: Ok, fair. But that’s not me. Not anymore. I think I can do it this time.
Jaina: I guess it will just come down to how badly you want it then… oh no pressure though.
Jordan laughs and hangs her head for a moment, pink hair draping down in front of her face.
Jaina: Hey…
Jaina makes a kissy face to the camera and Jordan returns one back after looking up.
Jaina: You know what you have to do next week. No matter what, make sure they all know who Jordan Majors is. I gotta go, babe.
Jordan: See you later. Hopefully soon!
Jaina waves bye and ends the call. Jordan drops the phone on top of her bag as a group of female wrestlers walk by and she looks at her reflection on her phone screen.
Jordan: You’ve got this.
Promo
A camera shows Jordan Majors walking along a levee in New Orleans in jeans and a t-shirt. She has her hands in her pockets as she approaches a railing and pulls her hands out to lean her arms against it and look out at the river as the sun goes down to the west.
A few weeks back, I stood on this very pier and watched as my tears fell down off of my cheeks and to the wooden planks below my feet. It was after that day, after that message I recorded to Abigail Lindsay that I realized something. I’ve changed. I’m not the same girl that walked into this company all wide-eyed and hoping for a chance. I’m not the same one that walked out a few months later only to return with a new wealth attached to her title. And I’m not the same girl that stupidly tried to use that alone to position herself higher than her peers. No, that’s not who I am. I realize that I’ve grown up a lot in this business very quickly. And I realize that it all happened very quickly around Rise to Greatness. It was at that event that I finally made the decision to stand up for me, cast aside all the doubt and the hate that was being bestowed upon me for the perception that existed about me, and to finally make a move that mattered. I was in a bad position. There was no title on the line. I didn’t have to fight for my future position in the card. I had to fight for me. I was being asked to accept a role I didn’t want, and one that frankly I wasn’t comfortable with. I’ve been branded many things for turning my back that night on Abigail and her crusade to satiate Ravyn. A liar. A slut. A bitch. But the only thing you can really call me from that night is a winner. When the bell rung, I won. Whether it was what my “tag team partner” wanted or not, I was a winner. Some can call it selfish, but what it truly was is an awakening. I finally realized that I am capable of amazing things when I stand up for me.
There are going to be setbacks along the way, but dammit, I refuse to allow that to stop me. Set backs like this injury. The last thing I expected to do this year was to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else fight while I couldn’t. But I didn’t just take a seat at the end of the bench. A return in 3-4 weeks was the most positive prognosis for my left knee, but I worked my ass off to make sure it was going to be earlier than that. I refused to wait until it just felt better. I made myself better instead. I feel better than I have in a long time, and all it took was a new focus. I hate that a bunch of crazy bitches saw the need to mess up my knee because they couldn’t get over something that happened in July. But it was eye opening to see how much I could accomplish when I had that goal of getting back to the ring. I was so freaking hungry, just starving to get back to where I belong. I can’t even begin to describe how electric it felt to get down to the ring and throw Abigail’s ass out of it. Even if my knee didn’t exactly want to keep pace. I know this is all a process. My knee is better now than it was before. I know how I need to take care of it, and in turn take care of me. In that ring, after I’d gotten the kinks worked out enough to kick her ass out of it, I turned around to a very familiar face: Peyton Rice.
Let me be honest, I didn’t expect this match with Peyton Rice. But the wrestling gods and goddesses, or Sasha, they saw that short staredown in the ring and they couldn’t help themselves. And now I find myself booked right back in for a match against one of the best fighters in the business. And I mean that. A lot of people still see Peyton as a prospect of sorts, but let’s be honest, she emerged on the scene in SCW after an amazing run before her signing and she is by far one of the most consistent performers this business knows. It is marvelous to see her rise with the Television Championship and the accomplishments she eclipses week after week. It’s hard not to respect someone of her talent. Except for when you realize she doesn’t respect you at all. It’s tunnel vision. She only sees me as one thing. We’ve been in the ring together twice. It has been months since we’ve fought each other, and still, there truly is just one thing she can bring herself to think about me. The money.
I’ll admit that part of that is on me. The last time we fought she was absolutely hellbent on revenge. The only things Tabula Rasa got me were a pay per view win, a near concussion at the hands of Aaron Blackbourne and a still pissed off Peyton Rice who just had to make sure I felt her wrath too. And I was such an idiot back then. I had so much money flowing in that I could buy anything. I basically bought the win at Tabula Rasa. Why not the Television title, too. I underestimated Peyton, then. Never again. I can’t help but feel like now those tables have turned. She’ll never openly admit it, but she is underestimating me now. She is still acting like she knows who I am. To her, I still am that same girl who offered her that money. She’s so caught up in her own success and being with this world champ or that one — oh, I know they’re just friends. Let me insert eye roll emoji here — she has ignored what I’ve been doing off to the side. And why not. So much is about her. She just has to post up a selfie with her bare breasts covered by just an arm with that sultry look and half the internet is just whipping it out and cleaning up with their Peyton Rice fanboy t-shirts. I don’t care about any of that. I welcome the misconceptions about me based on my wealth or my friends. Please, just keep on thinking you have the script for what’s going to happen when we meet again. Because I see this matchup going a drastically different way. You’ve been able to ride that title for a few months now while your name and status grows along with it. Right now you are basically the face of the Television title. Almost like Bree and the United States title, but nowhere near as brilliant. That journey for you is about to end, and it’s going to come at the hands of the woman you chose to immediately mock. Because for all your self-righteousness and pretending to be this goody two shoes, I know what’s underneath is just a layer of fake that’s even thicker than the amount of makeup you have to plaster on just to look presentable.
I know because I’ve been you before. I came to SCW trying to be one person. I came back trying to be someone else. Finally I figured it out. Just be you. Jordan Majors is not the wide-eyed try-hard from December 2018. She’s not the rich girl without a care from March of 2019. She is the woman that walked into Rise to Greatness with a purpose and came out of it showing her true colors. She’s not a liar. She’s a fighter. She’s not a rich bitch. She’s an intense competitor that only cares about winning. There’s a lot of things I want to accomplish in this business and I have a long way to go. I don’t think I’m the most gifted fighter or athlete. I’m not anywhere near as fast or talented as a lot of the people who grace SCW with their presence. I’m here because they saw when I fight, when I truly want something and I bring that fight, I’m going to leave everything I have in that ring. Even if I walk out there on Wednesday and you kick my knee right out from under me and the tendons just don’t want to put in the work needed to fight you like I want to, I promise you’ll see me get right back up and keep coming at you with a force unlike anything you have seen since you started defending that title around the circuit. The stacks of cash? They’re in the bank where they belong. Personal security? Who cares what happened to them, I never needed them anyway. Rich girl theme music? Dead and gone. You can think what you want about me Peyton, really I invite you to paint the most incorrect picture of who I am you possibly can. Please, entertain me with all the stories of the tragedy and triumph that has filled your precious career for the past year. It really is just so interesting. They should give you your own TV show and a book deal so you can continue to tell the same story over and over again to the masses that are obsessed with you. They all love you, right? Great, I don’t need the love. I don’t need the admiration. The only thing I want is the Television Championship. At the conclusion of Wednesday night, that title will have a new home around my waist.
Maybe you think after the way you dispatched Abigail with such ease this past week, you’re thinking you’ll just put another notch in that belt with me. But I’m not Abigail Lindsay. I’m better. I’ve been getting the better of her for months now. With all of her running around with Infamous and chasing this or that contender and throwing globs of someone’s pink hair around and trying to send me some weird message, what did she really accomplish? Nothing. Her plan at Rise to Greatness failed. In fighting you? She failed. She couldn’t get the job done. But I will. The void she brought to the ring last week? I will fill it and I will end your months long glory as a decorated champion. She couldn’t do it. She never could. She didn’t have the drive or determination. She flat out didn’t care enough to do what it takes to beat you. Well I do. And I will take that title out of your grubby hands and introduce it to a new, more improved home in my possession.
Nobody wants me to win. Nobody thinks I can win. It’s really the same story over and over. I’ve had my ass kicked up and down this roster for months in the past. But that was the past. Pay attention, Peyton. If you focus on the past too much, the present will come up and bite you in the ass when you least expect it. Put in a new tape and reorganize your scouting reports. Really try to get a grasp on what it is you’re about to face in that ring on Wednesday. Because you’re barking up the wrong tree, boo. You’re expecting me to come down to that ring and shuffle dollar bills out of my palm while you shake your ass and stomp a mud hole into my face. Instead I’m coming to take your title, knock you off your pedestal and kick you to the curb with your fellow non-champion boyfriend. I didn’t ask for this match, but here we are. I let this opportunity slip through my fingers when I was an idiot in the past and gave you such an easy win as a defending champion. That was the shortest chapter you’ve had to write as the champion of the Television masses. This is the final chapter. Finish off those last sentences you can to remind us all how beautiful you are because your time is almost up. Your story is done, and mine is about to begin. Oh and one more thing: you might not be “buying” all of this right now, but Wednesday night I’ll show you that what I’m saying right now is truly right on the ”money.” You can bank on it.
Jordan turns away from the camera and starts walking back down the levee, the sun setting behind her.
Jordan sits up on a hospital bed with her left leg elevated. She’s still wearing her top from her gear in the early morning hours of Thursday. A pair of shorts are now on her legs. She sighs as she leans back and holds ice against the top of her knee. A doctor walks into the room and looks down at her before his eyes trail back to the chart in his hand. Jordan perks up enough to pull herself back up.
Doctor: We’ve run a lot of tests. We have the MRI results… I think we’re looking at a pretty intense sprain of the MCL. The MCL supports the knee along its inner side. It looks like there could be a small tear in the ligament. That’s why it’s feeling difficult to put so much weight on it while you’re standing. Probably going to take you out for three to four weeks. I’d suggest you see a specialist, too. I’m sure your company will help with that. But that’s what I see. Any questions?
Jordan leans back and covers her eyes for a moment. The doctor stands there silently to give her a few seconds to process.
Jordan: I’ll be fine. No questions.
Doctor: Are you sure?
Jordan: Can I get out of here?
Doctor: Of course.
The doctor helps Jordan stand up and hands her a pair of crutches and makes sure she is capable of making her way around the room. She struggles, but starts to get the hang of it. Grabbing her phone from a nearby table, she sends her friend Bree a text and then sends a text to someone else: “I’m coming there. I have to rehab my knee. I want to be there. See you soon.” Despite her circumstance, sending the text makes her smile. Her phone dings a sound called Liberty Bell and she looks at the incoming text from Bree. Someone is on their way to get her. She sits down on a chair in the room and gets on the internet. Time to book a flight to New Orleans.
September 18, 2019 - New Orleans - CrescentCity Fitness
Jordan stretches to each side, wincing slightly as she reaches down her left side to touch her toes. She lifts each knee one at a time, adjusting the bulky brace on her left knee and letting out a big sigh as she leans down at places her hands on a weight bar. Her eyes scan side to side as she looks at the amount of weight on the bar, then they look down at the bar as she lifts it up and places it behind her head. She starts down in a squat and pushes back up slowly and smiles. Perfect, she thinks. She goes for another one and this time she lets out a shriek and drops the weight backward. Jordan falls forward and the weight goes backward and hits the ground with a loud thud.
Wyatt: Damnit! Be careful!
Wyatt Lancaster comes storming over toward Jordan from across the gym both out of concern for her and the equipment. He surveys the bar and rolls it back towards Jordan and then surveys her on the ground.
Wyatt: You need some help?
Jordan looks up and then reaches up for a hand, but Wyatt turns away and rolls the weight bar into position where it belongs.
Wyatt: You’re that girl…
Jordan: That girl? You mean Bree’s friend.
Wyatt: Right. Yes. You’re that friend of Bree’s. I’ve seen you around here lately. Surprised to see someone who lives on the west coast hanging out at my gym so much.
Jordan: How do you know where I --
Wyatt: You’re friends with my sister, remember? And she isn’t even in the state right now so I don’t think you’re here for her.
Jordan: Uhh… Well I hurt my knee last week and I know you’re really good with knee injuries. Well, I heard that you are. From, uh, Bree. So I thought maybe you could help if I needed help, which obviously I do. Look at me. I couldn’t get through a set of squats.
Wyatt: I hope you’re stronger than this when it comes to other things.
Jordan: This is just a setback.
Wyatt: I’m not talking about your knee. Don’t act like I’m naive.
There’s an awkward silence between the two of them and Wyatt leaves Jordan standing there to head back to his office. Jordan watches him and sees him talking to someone, but she tries to ignore it and move on back to her workout. She studies the bar and the weights nearby and considers changing the amounts. Going down to her hands and knees she starts to take one side of the weights off of the bar.
Woman: How’s the knee?
Jordan: Ah!
Jordan clutches at her chest and falls over on the mat, turning to look up and see Amy Chastaine standing over her. Damnit, she thought. Could this get any worse?
Amy: Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.
Jordan: It’s ok, I just didn’t see you there.
Amy: Wyatt said you came here because of your knee. Because Bree told you he’s an expert? Doesn’t sound like something Bree would say. He’s mainly a personal trainer, he’s just a little knowledgable about knees because of mine.
Jordan: And that’s why I thought I would come here.
Amy: To New Orleans? Again? Don’t you live in Los Angeles? That’s what Bree said.
Jordan: Wait, you talked to Bree about me?
Amy says nothing but just smiles and tilts her head slightly.
Amy: So that loud noise I heard when I was in Wyatt’s office? That was you he was checking on, wasn’t it?
Jordan narrows her eyes as she looks back at Amy and then stands up and crosses her arms.
Amy: Did the bar slip?
Jordan: Yeah… I thought I could support the weight, but maybe I’m not ready. I just felt my left knee give out.
Amy: You have to be careful. You can keep working out, but don’t push the ligaments so much that you turn a partial tear into something much worse.
Jordan looks down at her knee and the brace that adorns it like its own personal crown. Without looking at Amy, she reverses course.
Jordan: So why were you and Bree talking about me?
Amy seems to sense what Jordan is doing and grins.
Amy: I had some questions I wanted answered based on my observations. It isn’t something you need to be worried about. Unless I need to be worried about you?
Amy gives Jordan a little smile and starts to walk away, leaving with the last word before Jordan could even respond. Jordan takes a step back and sits down on a nearby weight bench and watches as Amy goes back into Wyatt’s office. She can tell they are talking and sees Wyatt look out toward her, basically confirming they are discussing her.
Jordan: Crap…
Jordan mutters to herself and looks down at her left knee. She slowly detaches the brace from her leg and examines herself before putting it back on. As she looks up, she sees Wyatt standing right there in front of her.
Wyatt: I was talking to Amy, and... I’ve decided I’m going to help you as much as I can to get your knee ready to go so you can get back to the ring. But I want to see you committed to getting back. I don’t want to hear anything about why else you’re here in New Orleans, and why you aren’t spending a fortune on some personal trainer out west.
Jordan: I wanted results.
Wyatt: I don’t need any excuses for why you’re here. But if you’re here, we’re going to get to work. Now, stand up and grab that bar. I want to see your form when you try that squat again.
Jordan smiles away from Wyatt so he can’t see and gets in position. As she gets the bar in position she sees Amy near the entry of the gym staring her down. Amy looks at Wyatt behind her and nods and Jordan turns to see what’s going on, but Wyatt motions to the bar.
Wyatt: Let’s not waste time.
September 22, 2019 - New Orleans - Amy’s Safe House
Jordan and Jaina Lancaster approach the door of a dark house and Jordan turns on her phone’s flashlight and flashes it at a panel. Jaina punches in a few numbers and looks back smiling as she opens the door and walks inside.
Jordan: Are you sure about this? What is this place?
Jaina: I told you. It’s fine. This is my mom’s safe house for victims of domestic violence. But it’s not being used right now so it’s all ours.
Jaina walks around flipping a few switches to illuminate the home. Jordan surveys the area before turning and closing the door. She lets a backpack hang off of one shoulder as she turns around and has Jaina’s lips right on hers. She smiles around the kiss and pulls Jaina closer. When the kiss breaks they look at each other and there’s a giggle between them. Jaina grabs Jordan and pulls her back toward a room.
Jaina: Set the laptop on the bed, I’ll get it going.
Jordan drops the backpack on the bed and unzips it, pulling out a laptop. Jaina grabs it and opens it up, navigating several windows before sound starts coming out of it. She lays on the bed on her stomach and leans on her elbows, watching the Apocalypse pay per view on the screen. Jordan walks around the bed and lays down next to her to join her. A few hours pass as they watch the show and laugh together. At times they lost track of the show as they talked about randoms and got into a tickle fight with Jordan pinning Jaina to the bed. Ending that fight, Jordan gets up to walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. She hears the computer go quiet and sets her glass on the counter and walks toward the dimly lit room. As she enters, Jaina pushes her up against the wall with a smile.
Jordan: Didn’t I just win this fight?
Jaina: I thought you might want your prize?
Jordan smiles and leans her head back against the wall.
Jordan: Are we not going to wait anymore? Thought you wanted to be safe…
Jaina: It is safe. Did I never tell you that in Louisiana, the age of consent is 17?
Jaina grins wickedly and presses her lips against Jordan’s, quickly deepening the kiss. She reaches for Jordan’s hands and grasps them, pushing them back against the wall and eliciting a laugh from Jordan.
Jordan: Are you sure about this?
Jaina: It’s why I wanted to come here. It’s what I wanted. We have privacy here. We can do whatever we want.
Jordan stares into Jaina’s eyes. She sucks her bottom lip under her teeth and lets an anxious sigh slip from her lips.
Jordan: I just want you…
Jaina’s lips curl into a wide grin and she presses back against Jordan and then pulls her away from the wall and stumbles toward the bed. They fall onto the bed and the laptop bounces off to the side, crashing to the floor as they tangle together on top of the sheets.
September 23, 2019 - New Orleans - Amy’s Safe House
The sun shines in through the window and illuminates a bed as it peeks over the horizon. The light wakes Jordan as she sits up in bed wearing a Beauty Factory t-shirt and loose shorts. She lets her legs hang off the side and to the floor and rubs her eyes. She turns and looks back to see Jaina still asleep and facing away from the window. For a moment her mind thinks back to right after she inherited all that money. Different women all the time in extravagant hotels all across the world. And somehow, being in this house and with this girl was better than any of that ever could have been. She smiles and slides her legs back under the covers and cuddles up to Jaina from behind.
Jaina: (Mumbles) Good morning…
Jordan: A very good morning.
Jaina smiles and pulls Jordan tighter against her.
Jaina: I told you we shouldn’t wait anymore.
October 9, 2019 - Oklahoma City - Backstage at Chesapeake Energy Arena
Jordan walks into the locker room with a big smile on her face. She sits down on a bench and looks down at her left leg. She rolls the tights up on that side and reveals a small knee brace. She leans forward on her elbows and lets out a happy sigh and then pumps her first with no one watching. Her phone rings in for a Facetime call from Jaina and her face lights up as she answers. Immediately Jaina looks excited.
Jaina: Babe! You looked amazing!
Jordan: Thank you! Mwah. I was a little nervous but it felt good. And then I thought I was going to fight Peyton.
Jaina: You are.
Jordan: What?
Jaina giggles and looks at Jordan knowing she doesn’t know yet.
Jaina: You clearly haven’t seen the SCW website yet. You have a title match next week against Peyton.
Jordan: Oh! Wow! I didn’t know.
Jaina: Apparently they liked that little face-to-face staredown. I know I did. Would have liked it more if you punched her in the face.
Jordan laughs and tilts her head.
Jaina: Just saying. I’d like nothing more than to see you really kick her ass next week. Drag her around the ring by her hair.
Jordan: Jaina? Wow?
Jaina: I’m fine. Just, not a Peyton Rice fan like so many others out there seem to be. Plus, come on, the Television title would be great for your career. I would love to see you with a championship!
Jordan: I would, too. She’s on a roll with that thing.
Jaina: No one will be expecting you to beat her. Everyone thinks she’ll win.
Jordan: Uh, thanks for the motivation. I think.
Jaina: No, that’s what I’m saying. You can do the unthinkable. Everyone remembers the match when you were acting all dumb.
Jordan: Jaina…
Jaina: Like, look at me and all of my money. I’ll buy the title.
Jordan: Jaina, I get it…
Jaina: And then she threw you all around the ring and really took it to you.
Jordan: Yeah, I remember it clearly, ok? It’s not going to be the same this time. I’m not the same wrestler that I was then. Hell, I’m not even the same person. I was in over my head. I was, I don’t know…
Jaina: Acting like an idiot?
Jordan: Ok, fair. But that’s not me. Not anymore. I think I can do it this time.
Jaina: I guess it will just come down to how badly you want it then… oh no pressure though.
Jordan laughs and hangs her head for a moment, pink hair draping down in front of her face.
Jaina: Hey…
Jaina makes a kissy face to the camera and Jordan returns one back after looking up.
Jaina: You know what you have to do next week. No matter what, make sure they all know who Jordan Majors is. I gotta go, babe.
Jordan: See you later. Hopefully soon!
Jaina waves bye and ends the call. Jordan drops the phone on top of her bag as a group of female wrestlers walk by and she looks at her reflection on her phone screen.
Jordan: You’ve got this.
Promo
A camera shows Jordan Majors walking along a levee in New Orleans in jeans and a t-shirt. She has her hands in her pockets as she approaches a railing and pulls her hands out to lean her arms against it and look out at the river as the sun goes down to the west.
A few weeks back, I stood on this very pier and watched as my tears fell down off of my cheeks and to the wooden planks below my feet. It was after that day, after that message I recorded to Abigail Lindsay that I realized something. I’ve changed. I’m not the same girl that walked into this company all wide-eyed and hoping for a chance. I’m not the same one that walked out a few months later only to return with a new wealth attached to her title. And I’m not the same girl that stupidly tried to use that alone to position herself higher than her peers. No, that’s not who I am. I realize that I’ve grown up a lot in this business very quickly. And I realize that it all happened very quickly around Rise to Greatness. It was at that event that I finally made the decision to stand up for me, cast aside all the doubt and the hate that was being bestowed upon me for the perception that existed about me, and to finally make a move that mattered. I was in a bad position. There was no title on the line. I didn’t have to fight for my future position in the card. I had to fight for me. I was being asked to accept a role I didn’t want, and one that frankly I wasn’t comfortable with. I’ve been branded many things for turning my back that night on Abigail and her crusade to satiate Ravyn. A liar. A slut. A bitch. But the only thing you can really call me from that night is a winner. When the bell rung, I won. Whether it was what my “tag team partner” wanted or not, I was a winner. Some can call it selfish, but what it truly was is an awakening. I finally realized that I am capable of amazing things when I stand up for me.
There are going to be setbacks along the way, but dammit, I refuse to allow that to stop me. Set backs like this injury. The last thing I expected to do this year was to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else fight while I couldn’t. But I didn’t just take a seat at the end of the bench. A return in 3-4 weeks was the most positive prognosis for my left knee, but I worked my ass off to make sure it was going to be earlier than that. I refused to wait until it just felt better. I made myself better instead. I feel better than I have in a long time, and all it took was a new focus. I hate that a bunch of crazy bitches saw the need to mess up my knee because they couldn’t get over something that happened in July. But it was eye opening to see how much I could accomplish when I had that goal of getting back to the ring. I was so freaking hungry, just starving to get back to where I belong. I can’t even begin to describe how electric it felt to get down to the ring and throw Abigail’s ass out of it. Even if my knee didn’t exactly want to keep pace. I know this is all a process. My knee is better now than it was before. I know how I need to take care of it, and in turn take care of me. In that ring, after I’d gotten the kinks worked out enough to kick her ass out of it, I turned around to a very familiar face: Peyton Rice.
Let me be honest, I didn’t expect this match with Peyton Rice. But the wrestling gods and goddesses, or Sasha, they saw that short staredown in the ring and they couldn’t help themselves. And now I find myself booked right back in for a match against one of the best fighters in the business. And I mean that. A lot of people still see Peyton as a prospect of sorts, but let’s be honest, she emerged on the scene in SCW after an amazing run before her signing and she is by far one of the most consistent performers this business knows. It is marvelous to see her rise with the Television Championship and the accomplishments she eclipses week after week. It’s hard not to respect someone of her talent. Except for when you realize she doesn’t respect you at all. It’s tunnel vision. She only sees me as one thing. We’ve been in the ring together twice. It has been months since we’ve fought each other, and still, there truly is just one thing she can bring herself to think about me. The money.
I’ll admit that part of that is on me. The last time we fought she was absolutely hellbent on revenge. The only things Tabula Rasa got me were a pay per view win, a near concussion at the hands of Aaron Blackbourne and a still pissed off Peyton Rice who just had to make sure I felt her wrath too. And I was such an idiot back then. I had so much money flowing in that I could buy anything. I basically bought the win at Tabula Rasa. Why not the Television title, too. I underestimated Peyton, then. Never again. I can’t help but feel like now those tables have turned. She’ll never openly admit it, but she is underestimating me now. She is still acting like she knows who I am. To her, I still am that same girl who offered her that money. She’s so caught up in her own success and being with this world champ or that one — oh, I know they’re just friends. Let me insert eye roll emoji here — she has ignored what I’ve been doing off to the side. And why not. So much is about her. She just has to post up a selfie with her bare breasts covered by just an arm with that sultry look and half the internet is just whipping it out and cleaning up with their Peyton Rice fanboy t-shirts. I don’t care about any of that. I welcome the misconceptions about me based on my wealth or my friends. Please, just keep on thinking you have the script for what’s going to happen when we meet again. Because I see this matchup going a drastically different way. You’ve been able to ride that title for a few months now while your name and status grows along with it. Right now you are basically the face of the Television title. Almost like Bree and the United States title, but nowhere near as brilliant. That journey for you is about to end, and it’s going to come at the hands of the woman you chose to immediately mock. Because for all your self-righteousness and pretending to be this goody two shoes, I know what’s underneath is just a layer of fake that’s even thicker than the amount of makeup you have to plaster on just to look presentable.
I know because I’ve been you before. I came to SCW trying to be one person. I came back trying to be someone else. Finally I figured it out. Just be you. Jordan Majors is not the wide-eyed try-hard from December 2018. She’s not the rich girl without a care from March of 2019. She is the woman that walked into Rise to Greatness with a purpose and came out of it showing her true colors. She’s not a liar. She’s a fighter. She’s not a rich bitch. She’s an intense competitor that only cares about winning. There’s a lot of things I want to accomplish in this business and I have a long way to go. I don’t think I’m the most gifted fighter or athlete. I’m not anywhere near as fast or talented as a lot of the people who grace SCW with their presence. I’m here because they saw when I fight, when I truly want something and I bring that fight, I’m going to leave everything I have in that ring. Even if I walk out there on Wednesday and you kick my knee right out from under me and the tendons just don’t want to put in the work needed to fight you like I want to, I promise you’ll see me get right back up and keep coming at you with a force unlike anything you have seen since you started defending that title around the circuit. The stacks of cash? They’re in the bank where they belong. Personal security? Who cares what happened to them, I never needed them anyway. Rich girl theme music? Dead and gone. You can think what you want about me Peyton, really I invite you to paint the most incorrect picture of who I am you possibly can. Please, entertain me with all the stories of the tragedy and triumph that has filled your precious career for the past year. It really is just so interesting. They should give you your own TV show and a book deal so you can continue to tell the same story over and over again to the masses that are obsessed with you. They all love you, right? Great, I don’t need the love. I don’t need the admiration. The only thing I want is the Television Championship. At the conclusion of Wednesday night, that title will have a new home around my waist.
Maybe you think after the way you dispatched Abigail with such ease this past week, you’re thinking you’ll just put another notch in that belt with me. But I’m not Abigail Lindsay. I’m better. I’ve been getting the better of her for months now. With all of her running around with Infamous and chasing this or that contender and throwing globs of someone’s pink hair around and trying to send me some weird message, what did she really accomplish? Nothing. Her plan at Rise to Greatness failed. In fighting you? She failed. She couldn’t get the job done. But I will. The void she brought to the ring last week? I will fill it and I will end your months long glory as a decorated champion. She couldn’t do it. She never could. She didn’t have the drive or determination. She flat out didn’t care enough to do what it takes to beat you. Well I do. And I will take that title out of your grubby hands and introduce it to a new, more improved home in my possession.
Nobody wants me to win. Nobody thinks I can win. It’s really the same story over and over. I’ve had my ass kicked up and down this roster for months in the past. But that was the past. Pay attention, Peyton. If you focus on the past too much, the present will come up and bite you in the ass when you least expect it. Put in a new tape and reorganize your scouting reports. Really try to get a grasp on what it is you’re about to face in that ring on Wednesday. Because you’re barking up the wrong tree, boo. You’re expecting me to come down to that ring and shuffle dollar bills out of my palm while you shake your ass and stomp a mud hole into my face. Instead I’m coming to take your title, knock you off your pedestal and kick you to the curb with your fellow non-champion boyfriend. I didn’t ask for this match, but here we are. I let this opportunity slip through my fingers when I was an idiot in the past and gave you such an easy win as a defending champion. That was the shortest chapter you’ve had to write as the champion of the Television masses. This is the final chapter. Finish off those last sentences you can to remind us all how beautiful you are because your time is almost up. Your story is done, and mine is about to begin. Oh and one more thing: you might not be “buying” all of this right now, but Wednesday night I’ll show you that what I’m saying right now is truly right on the ”money.” You can bank on it.
Jordan turns away from the camera and starts walking back down the levee, the sun setting behind her.
10-15-2019, 11:00 PM
OOC: Finally, the start of Peyton’s New Arc
Anything with the “REC” on it is Viewable to the Public.
The Views Expressed By Peyton Rice Do Not Reflect Those of the Publisher. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Anything with the “REC” on it is Viewable to the Public.
The Views Expressed By Peyton Rice Do Not Reflect Those of the Publisher. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
![[Image: PeytonricePromo2m6wxte_zpsyecveks0.jpg]](https://s90.photobucket.com/user/ogbuddha/media/PeytonricePromo2m6wxte_zpsyecveks0.jpg.html)
(Click Title)