12-17-2023, 09:00 AM
12-20-2023, 12:26 AM
{PROMO}
Backstage after Breakdown, Kirsten Scott sits in her locker room, alone, having sent Hailey and Emma to begin getting ready for their departure. She simply sits in a chair, in front of all of her belongings, with her head down, surprisingly. She is aware that there is a camera in there with her, and as it approaches her, and slowly shifts down to her level, she begins to speak.
Fatal Fortunes... Something that I never anticipated. Something I had never experienced. Something I didn't know what to expect. And here I am. Here I sit. Here I am with a guaranteed opportunity to vie for the most prestigious championship in all of professional wrestling. An honor that I didn't go out and steal. An honor that I didn't go out and demand or ask for. It's an honor that present itself in the form of a lottery that I ended up winning, and now, here, I sit with the biggest moment of my career in front of me...
She takes a breath, and excels, before looking up.
And to think, before that match was announced, before that match ever happened, I ALREADY thought that I was in the position of having the biggest moment of my entire professional wrestling career.
But when I heard the stipulations, when I heard that I would face off against Sarah Wolf for an opportunity to face whomever the World Champion was at a later date, I knew I couldn't take Fatal Fortunes lightly. I knew, in that moment, I couldn't think ahead any longer. I had talked about the future up until that point, but now the future didn't matter in the moment. Only that match did. And I took it as seriously as I could, I went out there and handled business, taking something I never envisioned myself having the right to say.
Because all along, with that Trios Tournament contract, I was clear. I wasn't challenging for the World Championship. I hadn't EARNED that opportunity. I wasn't going to jump the line and just insert myself in a position where, honestly, I may not be ready for. But I never said that if the opportunity ever presented itself, I wouldn't seize it. I never said that I wouldn't go out there and accept a CHANCE to put my name in the line for a future opportunity. So when my name was called, when the opportunity was laid in front of me, there wasn't a damn soul on this planet who was going to take it from me. And when that moment became a reality, the SCW World Championship was put on full notice. It was put on notice to anyone and everyone who has a chance before my date with destiny, that I'm going to have my eyes on you all.
Because when that day comes... I will be ready... I will be prepared... And I will defy every fucking odd in the history of Supreme Championship Wrestling and become the World Champion, and cement myself as one of... No... THE ELITE, in this business...
But when I heard the stipulations, when I heard that I would face off against Sarah Wolf for an opportunity to face whomever the World Champion was at a later date, I knew I couldn't take Fatal Fortunes lightly. I knew, in that moment, I couldn't think ahead any longer. I had talked about the future up until that point, but now the future didn't matter in the moment. Only that match did. And I took it as seriously as I could, I went out there and handled business, taking something I never envisioned myself having the right to say.
Because all along, with that Trios Tournament contract, I was clear. I wasn't challenging for the World Championship. I hadn't EARNED that opportunity. I wasn't going to jump the line and just insert myself in a position where, honestly, I may not be ready for. But I never said that if the opportunity ever presented itself, I wouldn't seize it. I never said that I wouldn't go out there and accept a CHANCE to put my name in the line for a future opportunity. So when my name was called, when the opportunity was laid in front of me, there wasn't a damn soul on this planet who was going to take it from me. And when that moment became a reality, the SCW World Championship was put on full notice. It was put on notice to anyone and everyone who has a chance before my date with destiny, that I'm going to have my eyes on you all.
Because when that day comes... I will be ready... I will be prepared... And I will defy every fucking odd in the history of Supreme Championship Wrestling and become the World Champion, and cement myself as one of... No... THE ELITE, in this business...
Kirsten reaches behind her ear and scratches, taking another breath.
Now having said all of that, let's be clear. There is a big, glaring, caveat... Elephant in the room... Whatever you want to call it, when it comes to what I just said. And let me reiterate WHAT I just said... I earned my chance at a World Title shot at a "future date." Not tomorrow... Not next week... Hell not even in 2023...
It's at a LATER date...
And while I am filled with excitement, adrenaline, anxiety, and the WORKS over it, I have to push all of that emotion to the side because like I said, before that moment, I was already lining up for the biggest moment in my professional wrestling career. I already had business at hand that I needed to focus on before and after that match. Because the fact is, still, regardless of Fatal Fortunes, this is my biggest moment in my career coming up. And there is no getting around that. Future World Championship match or no, 2023 still ends with the moment where I called my shot, I setup the gauntlet for those who have decided to "establish" themselves as SCW's "old guard," and I make them all PROVE to the world that their time is not done... And while that's happening with two other titles, the United States Championship, and one of my bitterest of rivals, will go head to head...
And Deanna Frost, I hope you're ready to see your championship vanish from your grasp...
It's at a LATER date...
And while I am filled with excitement, adrenaline, anxiety, and the WORKS over it, I have to push all of that emotion to the side because like I said, before that moment, I was already lining up for the biggest moment in my professional wrestling career. I already had business at hand that I needed to focus on before and after that match. Because the fact is, still, regardless of Fatal Fortunes, this is my biggest moment in my career coming up. And there is no getting around that. Future World Championship match or no, 2023 still ends with the moment where I called my shot, I setup the gauntlet for those who have decided to "establish" themselves as SCW's "old guard," and I make them all PROVE to the world that their time is not done... And while that's happening with two other titles, the United States Championship, and one of my bitterest of rivals, will go head to head...
And Deanna Frost, I hope you're ready to see your championship vanish from your grasp...
Kirsten's focus becomes much more centric, away from the IDEA of a World Championship match, and on the match that she cashed in her Trios contract for.
Deanna... Here we are... One on one, for a championship I know you hold so near and dear to your heart, in a situation that, honestly, I would say is favorable to you, in that you were just here. I mean, the chamber is like a second home, now, isn't it? And it's somewhere you have shown perseverance, winning against all odds, and showing the world that even with the odds against you, you can outlast those who all seek to take what is yours.
On top of that, hell, I would say that Fatal Fortunes probably has you even more gung ho for this fight against me, right? I mean, now, this rookie, this newbie, she has the glitz and glamor of the World Title staring her down, so she can't POSSIBLY be as focused on the United States Championship anymore, right? I mean, this is what all of the newcomers claim they want to do, right? Get the big belt opportunity?
Well if you think that way, consider yourself a loser...
Consider yourself a FORMER champion, already...
Deanna, this has been a moment that has been slowly etching itself in the walls of SCW history for a long time now. It began with your arm. It began when I showed the world I was someone who was willing to inflict pain to get people's attention, and YOU were one of those... Well... Casualties of war, and you let it fester within your soul. Your fellow Frosty bitch, she also didn't care for me making an example out of you.
I didn't personally care...
You two then decided to come for Pro and I, to try and extract your revenge. I respected it. I got it. It made sense. But you still involved someone who I care deeply about, and that's when it went from being business, to being personal.
And that's why I made the match, like I did. See, you avoided seeing me inside the Chamber once. You got lucky, and hell, you may have paid all of those other fuckers off, to gang up on me and ensure I wasn't going to be the one to finally dethrone you that night. I wouldn't put it past you, and honestly if it was the case and you admitted it, I'd almost applaud you for the wherewithal to know that facing me would be your final downfall. So I called my shot with the Trios Contract and I put you right back inside the confines of a cage where you wouldn't be able to escape. I put you right back inside the hell you made sure I wouldn't be. And I made sure that the hell I put you in would come with a price that would do just as I did to you, when you were my simple collateral damage, and they would suffer as well.
Think about it, Deanna. You're the reason that THREE CHAMPIONS won't get their rematch. YOU'RE the reason THREE OLD GUARD MEMBERS will be forced to watch as they are thrown off the ship, and the boat sails away. YOU. All YOU! It didn't have to be that way, Deanna, but you made it that way, and now it's my job to complete the task I set forth on last year, when you and I first crossed paths. It's time for me to END the old guard in a way that solidies SCW's new trajectory, and going into a new year, ends the year on the highest of high notes.
This is my culmination.
This is my final part of the chapter that I started writing with you...
And it's will culminate with the Chamber door closing, our pods opening, and me executing the final part of my mission...
You may think Fatal Fortunes changed me. You may think you don't matter anymore. But you're the final boss to me, Deanna. You are the one I HAVE to beat to move forward or nothing else will PLAGUE my soul. You could give me title matches galore, but if they mean losing to you, none will matter. This one... This one matters. Just because one may be considered "bigger," like I said, THIS... ONE... MATTERS! The United States Championship, it MATTERS. This isn't about me looking at some B-level title, no, this is Iron Man dawning the gauntlet, and snapping Thanos out of existence. This is David defeating Goliath. App State over Michigan. Giants over the Patriots 1 and 2... It's that type of story that has led to this match and it's my culmination of being the underdog, being the one everyone consider incapable of beating the top dog, coming out on top.
This is it, for me, Deanna...
I write my own chapter's end...
And the fact is, I get to dictate the ending...
On one hand, I fail. I write how the underdog couldn't achieve success, and has to scratch and crawl for another opportunity. I get to write how The Frosts were truly the superior two-some in Supreme Championship Wrestling, and held off every challenge from "The One" that she could muster. And I would. I'd admit defeat. I'd admit that you both proved your worth over me, and what I had hoped to do had simply come up shot. But on the other hand, I can write those final passages, showing the world that you don't have to have a lineage in this business. You don't have to have a familial name to succeed. You can come in off the streets, hone your craft, establish yourself, and prove to every, single, Goddamn, person on this roster that you are WORTHY of their respect. And in doing so have those passages write themselves as one of Supreme Championship Wrestling's greatest underdog stories.
One way or another, this... Thing... Between you and I, it ends, once and for all. It comes to a conclusion long in the making. It answers questions people have been asking, and you and I have both, honestly been wondering. Who truly is... Supreme? That answer will come to one of us at Breakdown. It will come when one of us has the United States Championship in one hand, and the other arm being lifted toward the Heavens. It will end with one of us being forced to admit defeat to the other, and acknowledge that one of us was right all along...
Like I said... I'm ready to admit whatever the case may be...
The bigger question is, are you? Are you capable of admitting defeat at my hands? Or will you run away and make excuses for yourself, trying to justify why you couldn't get the job done?
It is something that only the legendary Deanna Frost can answer because I've made myself very clear. I've made no qualms. This is the end all, be all. My words are set in stone. My mind is made up. And the FACT is, I will be standing tall over your body at Breakdown. I will be lifting the United States Championships into the air as my own.
And that is not going to be words written into a work of fiction...
It will be words written as the TRUTH!
JUST LIKE DEATH... TAXES... AND ME! KIRSTEN SCOTT!
On top of that, hell, I would say that Fatal Fortunes probably has you even more gung ho for this fight against me, right? I mean, now, this rookie, this newbie, she has the glitz and glamor of the World Title staring her down, so she can't POSSIBLY be as focused on the United States Championship anymore, right? I mean, this is what all of the newcomers claim they want to do, right? Get the big belt opportunity?
Well if you think that way, consider yourself a loser...
Consider yourself a FORMER champion, already...
Deanna, this has been a moment that has been slowly etching itself in the walls of SCW history for a long time now. It began with your arm. It began when I showed the world I was someone who was willing to inflict pain to get people's attention, and YOU were one of those... Well... Casualties of war, and you let it fester within your soul. Your fellow Frosty bitch, she also didn't care for me making an example out of you.
I didn't personally care...
You two then decided to come for Pro and I, to try and extract your revenge. I respected it. I got it. It made sense. But you still involved someone who I care deeply about, and that's when it went from being business, to being personal.
And that's why I made the match, like I did. See, you avoided seeing me inside the Chamber once. You got lucky, and hell, you may have paid all of those other fuckers off, to gang up on me and ensure I wasn't going to be the one to finally dethrone you that night. I wouldn't put it past you, and honestly if it was the case and you admitted it, I'd almost applaud you for the wherewithal to know that facing me would be your final downfall. So I called my shot with the Trios Contract and I put you right back inside the confines of a cage where you wouldn't be able to escape. I put you right back inside the hell you made sure I wouldn't be. And I made sure that the hell I put you in would come with a price that would do just as I did to you, when you were my simple collateral damage, and they would suffer as well.
Think about it, Deanna. You're the reason that THREE CHAMPIONS won't get their rematch. YOU'RE the reason THREE OLD GUARD MEMBERS will be forced to watch as they are thrown off the ship, and the boat sails away. YOU. All YOU! It didn't have to be that way, Deanna, but you made it that way, and now it's my job to complete the task I set forth on last year, when you and I first crossed paths. It's time for me to END the old guard in a way that solidies SCW's new trajectory, and going into a new year, ends the year on the highest of high notes.
This is my culmination.
This is my final part of the chapter that I started writing with you...
And it's will culminate with the Chamber door closing, our pods opening, and me executing the final part of my mission...
You may think Fatal Fortunes changed me. You may think you don't matter anymore. But you're the final boss to me, Deanna. You are the one I HAVE to beat to move forward or nothing else will PLAGUE my soul. You could give me title matches galore, but if they mean losing to you, none will matter. This one... This one matters. Just because one may be considered "bigger," like I said, THIS... ONE... MATTERS! The United States Championship, it MATTERS. This isn't about me looking at some B-level title, no, this is Iron Man dawning the gauntlet, and snapping Thanos out of existence. This is David defeating Goliath. App State over Michigan. Giants over the Patriots 1 and 2... It's that type of story that has led to this match and it's my culmination of being the underdog, being the one everyone consider incapable of beating the top dog, coming out on top.
This is it, for me, Deanna...
I write my own chapter's end...
And the fact is, I get to dictate the ending...
On one hand, I fail. I write how the underdog couldn't achieve success, and has to scratch and crawl for another opportunity. I get to write how The Frosts were truly the superior two-some in Supreme Championship Wrestling, and held off every challenge from "The One" that she could muster. And I would. I'd admit defeat. I'd admit that you both proved your worth over me, and what I had hoped to do had simply come up shot. But on the other hand, I can write those final passages, showing the world that you don't have to have a lineage in this business. You don't have to have a familial name to succeed. You can come in off the streets, hone your craft, establish yourself, and prove to every, single, Goddamn, person on this roster that you are WORTHY of their respect. And in doing so have those passages write themselves as one of Supreme Championship Wrestling's greatest underdog stories.
One way or another, this... Thing... Between you and I, it ends, once and for all. It comes to a conclusion long in the making. It answers questions people have been asking, and you and I have both, honestly been wondering. Who truly is... Supreme? That answer will come to one of us at Breakdown. It will come when one of us has the United States Championship in one hand, and the other arm being lifted toward the Heavens. It will end with one of us being forced to admit defeat to the other, and acknowledge that one of us was right all along...
Like I said... I'm ready to admit whatever the case may be...
The bigger question is, are you? Are you capable of admitting defeat at my hands? Or will you run away and make excuses for yourself, trying to justify why you couldn't get the job done?
It is something that only the legendary Deanna Frost can answer because I've made myself very clear. I've made no qualms. This is the end all, be all. My words are set in stone. My mind is made up. And the FACT is, I will be standing tall over your body at Breakdown. I will be lifting the United States Championships into the air as my own.
And that is not going to be words written into a work of fiction...
It will be words written as the TRUTH!
JUST LIKE DEATH... TAXES... AND ME! KIRSTEN SCOTT!
As she concludes her commentary, there is a light knock at the door, and Emma sticks her head in. She let's Kirsten know they're ready when she is, and Kirsten simply nods back. Emma leaves to head back to the vehicle and the scene fades to black with Kirsten taking one final look into the camera and then standing to gather her belongings.
12-20-2023, 09:32 PM
The Witches of Alden
”Something”
SAP Center
San Jose, California
December 14th, 2023
8:47pm
Deanna had barely spent more than a few minutes “fussing” over Amelia Blythe after they had made their way back to their changerooms with Luz, the latter having to rush off shortly thereafter to prepare for her own match in Fatal Fortunes. For her part, the Frost-redhead was a mix of emotions, most of which she hated. The whole night had been one large fiasco, culminating in a glorified ‘handicap match’ thanks to ‘luck’, which she wasn’t sure if she could call it that given the night’s events. She had apologized up and down to Amelia and Luz about it and done her best to keep things fair for Amelia with Diamond Steele doing whatever it took to have her ‘win’.
Still, she hadn’t stayed longer than what amounted to a few minutes – just enough to make sure Amelia was okay, Luz was ready, and there was no ill-will between the three of them given tonight’s events. In fact, it had been Amelia that had encouraged Deanna to rush out and leave them be, not out of spite but rather for the same reason Deanna was rushing through the halls, leaping and twisting her way past staff and superstar alike! If anything, she probably resembled some character in a Christmas movie rushing through the mall to get a present at the last minute – Damn… how many of those have I watched in my hotels these past weeks?… She had honestly lost track while sitting alone and eating her small “Grab n’ Go” dinners.
But Light in the Darkness knew what was really on Deanna’s mind and why Amelia had urged Deanna not to fuss over them. The United States Champion couldn’t think of Fatal Fortunes anymore now that her ‘part’ in it was done. She couldn’t think about Steele or Amelia or Luz’s upcoming title defense, or the End of the Year title shot voting, or even about the latest info revealed about Kristen Scott’s Cash-In, despite wanting to.
No, Deanna could only think of one thing: the limo-bus she had seen pull into the parking lot earlier. The entrance video that had played at the start of her match. And the absence that had followed it.
It HAD been Selena’s bus! She had recognized it immediately. At the start of the show, Deanna had stayed in her changeroom, hoping that if Selena was here, she would come by or, once Selena had been drawn and had her match, the redhead could approach the platinum-blonde and get some answers. Never did she dream she would draw her wife as an opponent! But with a no-show from the former world champion, Deanna knew she couldn’t hide for the rest of the night.
Putting on a burst of speed, not so easy with her duffle-bag slung over her shoulder, the champion powered her way to the parking lot, immediately feeling the mild weather of California – by far an improvement from the cold of Manhattan – emerald eyes dancing wildly throughout the large expanse of concrete and lights!
“Please still be here…” she whispered under her breath, ignoring how tired her legs felt after her ‘tag’ match and from running. The sight of the bus as she spied it furthered this disregard, prompting her to sprint again towards the bus without reckless abandon! She was certain she had never cleared the distance of such a massive parking lot so fast! Even as she realized that the bus-engine wasn’t running, she didn’t care! The bus could STILL just vanish into thin air at any second – she was sure of that!
But there it was… her ‘home away from home’ that she hadn’t seen since September. A flood of nostalgia rushed through her as she stood near the luxury vehicle, her eyes taking in the snowflake designs, the smiling face of her and Selena, the ‘SCW’ logo – all the decal decorations across the vehicle’s sides. But it was also the little things she spied that nobody else would really pay attention to. The fixed dent in the side that had come from Xander Valentine smashing a sledgehammer into it years ago, for example. Despite herself, Deanna reached up to place a shaky hand along the side of the vehicle, the cool metal against her fingers. It was different from the metal of the chamber. That metal had been course, cold, and rough, designed to be barbaric and create a sense of dread and punishment. This metal was smooth and cool and made Deanna, for better or for worse, feel at home.
Which only further expedited her approach as she reached the door. Pushing on the end, as she had been taught so many times by the usual chauffer, Deanna wedged the door open and stepped inside, immediately feeling both nervous and driven at the same time. It actually, her mind going back to the chamber, had been the same feeling when she had entered the construct back at Under Attack at the start of the match.
Wonder what place I’ll start off this time… She gave her head a shake. She WANTED to focus on The One and this latest plan of hers to get one up on Deanna and the United States title. She WANTED to focus on the utter strangeness of the match: to understand it better and work on strategy. But she NEEDED to figure this out first! Why was this bus here? Why had Selena’s entrance played? Why, after everything that had happened in Maplewood, had tonight gone… as it had gone?!
Pulling herself onto the bus, Deanna’s ears were immediately assailed by a voice coming further into the luxury vehicle!
“I know that!” she recognized the voice almost immediately, the rough edge overlaying the usual gentle tones she had grown to associate with the man. “But if you would just listen to me for half-a-minute… NO! This wasn’t Deanna’s idea! I did this on my own! Because…because…” she spied him then as he emerged from the back corner of the ‘kitchen’ area, his back to her.
Eric Anderson. Her chauffer and friend for the past eight years. She hadn’t seen him since Selena had quit SCW. Was that my fault? her brain quickly thought. Did I put him out of a job because I didn’t want to use my wife’s bus for my own sake? The redhead felt the twinge of guilt that came from that thought, but she quickly tucked it away to think about later.
“Look, I’ll pay for the usage, okay?” She heard the tall man try to reason, pausing as he listened to the voice from the cellphone in his hand. “You don’t have to do that. And I just wanted to…” he suddenly turned, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw Deanna standing there, the young woman a mixture of joy at seeing him and still utterly frustrated and confused by seeing him there in California in the first place! Still, her emerald eyes fixated on the phone in his hand.
“Is that Selena?” she asked, marching up to him without needing an answer and tossing her bag onto the passing side-couch. Before Eric could answer, Deanna had snatched the phone out of his hand and pressed it to her ear. “Selena?!” she spoke. “Selena, is that you? What is going on here?!”
There was no response. She couldn’t even hear a breath come from the other line. The utter silence was broken only by the beep that came from the call ending, Deanna pulling the phone away to look at the screen, proof-positive that she had been hung up on. Clenching her jaw, she jerked her head up to glare at Eric.
“Mind telling me why you’re here in California, Eric?”
Like a scolded puppy, Eric shuffled on the spot, his gaze anywhere but on Deanna’s eyes. “Are you going to yell at me like she did?”
“That remains to be seen!” Deanna remarked. “You think I have a good enough reason to?”
“Yes.” He offered. “But I didn’t mean for things to go down like this.”
“Than what did you mean?!” Deanna asked, running her hands through her hair. “And where is Selena?!”
There was a moment of silence from the young man, which only further agitated the redhead. “Talk, old man!”
“I’m like… two years older than you!” Eric countered lamely.
“Eric!”
“She’s not here!” he blurted out, backing up a step as Deanna stepped forward, almost intimidated by the small woman. Lowering his hands, he gave a sigh before continuing. “She was never here.”
Deanna felt the breath leave her lungs as the words sunk in, leaving her unable to speak as she watched Eric move further back to sit on the couch, running a hand through his shaggy-blonde hair.
“I found out about SCW advertising her for this Fatal-Fortunes thing. Figured things had smoothed over and wanted to offer my services again to get you guys there. So… I called her up.”
“And she answered you?” Deanna asked, crossing her arms over her chest, earning a confused shrug from the man.
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“It’s more than I’ve gotten lately.” Deanna whispered, looking away.
“Well…” Eric breathed, clapping his hands together to refocus. “She tells me that she’s not coming back and she never gave any indication that she was to anyone. That SCW was lying or...” He eyed Deanna. “Or that you were.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Deanna urged. “I’ve been telling every person that asks me that I don’t know or I don’t think so. I’ve tried, Eric! But no one believes me!”
“I do.” Eric shrugged again. “You’re not the kind of person to give people false hope.” He offered.
“Thanks.” Deanna whispered, her eyes cast on the floor.
“Anyway, I just… I remember sitting at home and thinking about all of this. How Selena quit. How you were alone because of it. And then… if Selena was telling the truth and you were telling the truth, than SCW was lying to the fans. And I remember just thinking ‘why’? Why would they do this to Selena, to you, and the fans?”
“Well…” Deanna breathed, moving over to sit beside the broad-shouldered man. “Plenty of business reasons. Higher ratings, viewers…”
“Yeah, I thought that too. And it just made me madder.” Eric explained. “I thought… ‘How could they do this to you guys’? Especially Selena, you know?”
“Yeah…” Deanna admitted. “For all of Selena’s stubbornness about this, I still don’t get why the fans hate her so much. And then this? Advertising her? None of this makes sense.”
It was no exaggeration! It had taken Deanna nearly killing herself inside the chamber match to get the fans to look past her last name and all that had become attached to it. She had, after months of proving herself as her own woman, started to get the fans on her side… but the boos from the sight of that bus, the boos at Selena’s entrance, the cheers when she hadn’t shown up… it had all been deafening! And it still made no sense to Deanna.
“I just… I got so mad at everyone. I wanted… I wanted to show them what they had done. I had to do something.”
“So you took the bus and drove it across the entire United States – from New York to California…” Deanna was almost in shock. That was like… a two day drive non-stop! She wouldn’t have believed it if she wasn’t sitting in the vehicle right now! She watched Eric give a guilty shrug. “And for what purpose, Eric?”
“I don’t know.” He asked, shaking his head. “I kept thinking that if I did, people would realize what they were missing – like maybe the fans would realize it. Or management would come clean about lying to the fans. Or maybe you’d come out or Selena would do something. SOMETHING would happen.” He sighed. “I’m just a driver.” He tried to explain. “I can’t do much for either of you besides that… but I had to do something.” He repeated.
“Eric…” Deanna sighed, shaking her head.
“I just hate this.” She heard him almost growl. “I want thing back to the way they used to be. Where we were travelling the world, making a difference. I don’t know… just making things better in some way.”
“I do, too.” Deanna sighed. “But we can’t. We can’t make Selena come back. We can’t make the SCW Universe accept her again. Your actions tonight proved that to me. Even management has no idea why this animosity exists…” Slowly, the redhead placed a comforting hand on Eric’s shoulder. “All we can do is continue on.” She gave a sigh. “When I saw you – well, the bus – I felt so excited and happy and nervous. I thought, for a moment, that things could go back. And then when her entrance hit, even if she was my opponent, it was something! But…” again, she shook her head. “I don’t even know if I have a wife at this point… how can I possibly ask for my wrestling partner back?”
“I’m….” she heard Eric try. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Deanna offered a tired smile to the man. “We’ll figure it out, I think.”
A moment of silence passed between them before Deanna spoke again. “So, was that Selena you were talking to?”
“Yeah.” Eric nodded.
Deanna clicked her tongue inside her mouth. “So she WAS watching.” Her mind wandered how long that had been going on, but quickly dismissed the thought at the sound of Eric’s voice.
“Soon as she saw the bus on the TV, she was calling me. Angry as hell.” He released a harsh exhale at the memory. “Basically you but… not? Does that make sense?” he asked with a twisted lift of eyebrow. “Like you thought this was her doing and she thought this was your doing?”
“I guess.” Deanna shrugged.
“Well, anyway, she’s mad. You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad anymore, Eric, I’m just…” a long sigh came from Deanna. “I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of my marriage falling apart when my career is starting to succeed. I’m tired of fighting with Selena whenever I see her. I’m tired of missing her in bed when I sleep. I’m tired of feeling like a stranger in my own home. I’m tired of being unable to share my success with her. I’m just… I’m just tired.” Another sigh came, followed by silence.
She didn’t add the last part she was thinking about: tired of hoping. That was the most painful thing of it all. What she had felt seeing the bus, when she had seen those advertisements weeks prior, when she had heard Selena’s entrance music, how she saw it in Eric’s eyes, not quite as strong as hers but strong enough to prompt him to drive a limo-bus for over 2 days across the country just to try and do something.
Only to be crushed by the reality. Deanna was tired of it. Tired of throwing everything away the second Selena was brought up. Hell, she knew what she should be doing! She had a ‘do-or-die’ chamber match next week – a match where she was ‘teamed’ (for lack of the better word) with two people that hated her! Two people that would throw her under the bus, feed her to the wolves, whatever, just to save their own skins. Wouldn’t that be a keen strategy? Eliminate Deanna and The One would be out of the picture, making it 2-on-2. And why would they help? Why would they care to keep Deanna alive in the chamber if it meant keeping their titles with them? Did they even realize that their best chance was to work together so they could, at best, retain their titles in a clean sweep, or, at worst, still have rematches to regain any lost titles?
These were the things Deanna was SUPPOSED to be dwelling on, but the second Selena had been brought back into the conversation – the second a ‘whiff’ of a possibility of the Snow Queen’s return had reached, nothing else had mattered. Nothing had even come close. That was how strong her hope for her wife’s return – the return to the life they both loved (or so Deanna had thought) – how strong that hope was.
And I call myself the SCW United States Champion… she thought guiltily.
A ping came from the cellphone she still held, Eric’s, causing the redhead to utter an apology before returning the phone to its owner. Casting a quick glance, Eric released a huff of frustration and a smile to match the emotion.
“Now, I feel worse.” He muttered, earning Deanna’s full attention. With a turn of his hand, he showed Deanna the screen displaying the email he had sent. “Selena’s still paying me for this trip.”
Despite herself, Deanna felt the knowing smile that graced her features. Of course she is. She thought, looking away with a nod of her head. She’s still Selena.
“You need to talk to her.” Eric explained. “Tell her everything you told me. And everything you didn’t.”
Deanna laughed a little bitterly. “What are you? A Hallmark card?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’m your friend. And Selena’s too. And you know as well as I do that this… this isn’t right. Not for you, not for me, sure as hell not for Selena-“
“Eric.” Deanna tried. “She won’t listen to me.”
“Than YOU listen to HER.” The young man pushed. “Sit her down and have her explain it all to you. Have her explain why she can’t go back. The real reasons. Explain why you want her to come back. Come up with a plan! Come to terms with things… something!” He released a huff as he looked around the bus. “You just… you have to do something, Deanna. Nobody else will or can.”
It sounded so simple, when both of them knew that there was a huge difference between ‘simple’ and ‘easy’. Even so, what was the alternative? Continue down this path with her and Selena growing more and more distant? Deanna’s mind flew back to Elsianna’s warning, her eldest child having heard Selena on the phone talking about-
THAT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! Her mind screamed in defiance. She refused to let that happen. But if she just stayed away and did nothing. If she continued to punish Selena until Selena ‘did things Deanna’s way’, then what other outcome awaited them?
Something far more terrifying than a rigged chamber match or a twisted narrative…
She looked back at Eric, the man having moved to the driver’s seat and starting the engine to the bus. “Yeah, yeah, you’re pissed.” He spoke to the bus (common for the man who had driven it for eight or so years). “Get over it. You need the exercise.”
Biting her lower lip, Deanna studied the man quietly as he pulled the bus out of the parking lot and onto the highway. She hadn’t fully considered how much this had affected her friend. The Frosts had been his primary source of income for so many years, not to mention one of their dearest friends. And Selena had offered this bus to Deanna, which she had staunchly refused to prove her own identity. And screwed over my friend in the process…
Slowly, the redhead made her way to the shotgun seat to sit beside Eric. “Going to be a long ride home.” She stated. “What you gonna do after that?”
“I don’t know.” Eric shrugged. “I had a gig planned for tomorrow but this plan sort of kiboshed it.”
Biting her lower lip, Deanna nodded her head. “I hate driving, you know?” she stated dismissively. “And this bus is more Selena’s than mine. But it’s hard to really focus when you’re rushing to an airport or driving for hours and hours…” her voice trailed off, her eyes checking on Eric to see if the boy would take the hint.
“It’s tough.” Was all he said.
“Right.” Deanna sighed. “So… if you don’t have any more gigs… what if you travel with me? Like be my road buddy?”
A moment paused before Eric turned his head to regard Deanna in mild surprise. “I would pay you, of course.” Deanna quickly stated. “I just…” she sighed. “If things can’t go back to how they use to be, I’d like some things to stay the same.”
Slowly, a smile broke across Eric’s face. “I would too.” he replied before casting his eyes out to the dark road ahead. “It looks like it’s gonna be a lonely road ahead.”
“Yeah…” Deanna nodded, watching the same road. “And probably going to get a lot worse before it gets better…”
12-21-2023, 03:13 AM
{NEHMIAH: The Final Chapter}
Life doesn't always hand you lemons. Sometimes it doesn't even give you fruit, but yet it still asks you to make of it what you will, and that is where I am at today. My estranged mother, the woman who allowed me to be put in so many situations I never wished, reaches out to me and wants to talk, and it takes everything in my soul not to simply say two words...
"Fuck Off..."
But the biological connection between mother and daughter cannot be ignored as reading her words made me question everything I had believed for so long because of a look in her eye when we saw one another. Everything I believed I had known was thrown into oblivion when she looked at me with eyes that only a mother who loved her child could give. And I was confused. I was distraught. I was forced to wonder if my mother actually cared about me when my father only cared about himself. I was forced into a situation where I could utilize life's two most basic instincts...
Fight... Or flight...
I had never, metaphorically, flown, a day in my life and I wasn't about to begin now, so I had to force myself into a situation where fighting made sense. I had to find a way that fighting would be best for me, my sanity, and the potential ideal situation that my mother meant well. So I conversed with my friends, my "real family," and I asked them what I should do. I engaged with Emma for guidance. I looked deep inside and all I could find was an answer to the question of "How?" that wouldn't put me, or any others, in a sense of potential danger mentally, physically, or emotionally. And as Anthony Bourdain described it, in a place, "indeed marvelous. An irony free zone, where nothing hurts."
Mom: May I sit down?
Kirsten Scott: Please... Do...
Kirsten Scott: ... Order anything you want. I'm paying...
Mom: ... I'll just have a cup of coffee, for now...
Kirsten Scott: You sure?
Mom: Right now... I'm too nervous to eat... This really wasn't the location I envisioned us having our first real conversation with one another, you know?
Kirsten Scott: It's probably not the "perfect" establishment, but it seemed like a secluded and "unlikely" enough place we could meet. I wanted it to be an open venue, and honestly, with all of the people coming in from the bars, it's going to be loud and chaotic enough where we can talk, and nobody will be paying attention to us. We will just fall into the noise. And let's be real... It gives us the potential for some entertainment to cut through the tensions with this group of patrons coming in...
Kirsten Scott: ... So you texted me. What's this all about? What does Dad know about this? Is this really his doing, and you're just playing along? I'm asking all of this for a reason. When I looked at you in the grocery store, you looked like you were happy to see me... Like I mattered. You looked like you cared about ME. But I'll be honest and say I've been fooled by that look before, and I'm not going to be again. And in everything I do, I always put contingency plans in place in case things go wrong, so I'll be honest... If this is a setup, I'm three steps ahead of you both...
Mom: Your father knows nothing about this. I reached out, and came on my own accord. There is a truth you need to know and understand. Your father and I have been estranged and on very little speaking terms since the raid. Because I'll be honest, I never wanted you to be forced to go out there to The Compound with us. I wanted to leave you at home. I wanted you to be oblivious for your own safety. But he insisted, and when you became "The One," I hated it. I really did. It meant that we had lost you as our "daughter" from that point forward, and were just "clients" to you at that point... Nothing more...
Mom: ... And from there, your father manipulated me to believe that, having you as "The One" was one of the best things for us and everyone around us. It would mean we could do whatever we wanted, and in his eyes, you'd protect us, and ensure we were always safe, both physically and financially. We would never be suspected of anything.
Since the raid, however, we've been investigated up and down, multiple times. And rightfully so. And... Before you think I'm here to ask anything of that, you can stop. I'm simply filling you in. I want nothing in regard to the past. I reached out because I'm tired of not having a relationship with my little girl. I'm tired of not being able to be proud of what you did, and what you will do going forward. I'm tired of knowing all I'm known for is your suffering, and not doing my best to begin the process of making amends and righting my wrongs...
Kirsten Scott: So then answer me why? Why did you do it? Why did you always go along with me being sent off to my room like a wretch, so you two could just fuck whatever visitor you two brought in that night?
Mom: ... I... I was always told it would make his and my love for one another grow more. Everything I did or said was because he made me believe it. He forced the first situation on me before you were born, and then played to my weaknesses of believing it was making us stronger each time after. He would tell me that he wasn't "forcing" it on me, but he always was. He would say he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, but it was destroying me on the inside, and showing his selfishness.
Kirsten Scott: I'm going to be blunt and ask if I'm REALLY supposed to believe you were that naive all along? Am I supposed to believe this sob story of him being this ultimate brain in this constant barrage of menage-et-trois? Am I supposed to believe he knew that soft spot button of yours to push every time, and you never once questioned it?
Mom: No. You're not. Because it sounds like crap. I know it. I kick myself because I allowed it. So no... I don't expect you to believe it, but that's why I'm here. That's why I said I had to take the steps to begin repairing THIS. I couldn't make excuses anymore.
I mean, "on paper" I know how it looks. I look like I'm saying what I need to say to not take any blame. I participated. I'm to blame, too. I fell into the lifestyle, and it just became a "norm," and I pushed my questions and feelings aside because I had been told the same thing over and over. I didn't see it hurt you, so I didn't believe the pain existed. But I didn't come here to feed you lies, either. I came here to do what was right and tell the truth from my standpoint.
Mom: I didn't come here to "convince" you. I came here to tell you the truth, and do it to your face. You deserve that. I'm to the point in MY life where I have to make decisions about your father and I, and they won't be easy to do. But the fact is we were both played. And yes, I went along with everything, and at a point, it was without hesitation. I'm not going to lie to you about it. And I never took into consideration about how it would hurt or impact you. And you deserve to hear that, and the truth, from my mouth, one on one...
Kirsten Scott: So what are you wanting from all of this?
Mom: I'm simply taking what I believe is the first step forward. After this, I don't know what to expect or want from you, or out of this. But this was what I felt needed to be "step one."
Kirsten Scott: And... You understand where I'm coming from, right? Why this just seems so... Convenient?
Mom: Of course I do. I didn't do something until we all met up in an unlikely space, and then I reached out. It's a perfect storm...
Kirsten Scott: Too perfect...
Mom: And I don't care about that, because it needed to happen, and I'm not a superhero for doing it, but I'm also not going to allow it to be a wedge anymore. I'm going to begin chipping away at it on my side, and if I have to do all of the work I will.
Kirsten Scott: Then I need reassurances...
Mom: You deserve them... So what kind?
Kirsten Scott: I don't know. But I need reassurances he's not part of this. That he's not manipulating you again. That this isn't his way to try to get back to me to protect HIS ASS...
Mom: Then you've told me my job, then... You've told me what you need... You've told me what you expect... I told you I didn't come here expecting this grand reunion. I didn't come to convince you. I came with hope. I came with hope that we could find a way to take whatever "step two" or even "step one-point-five" would be. I feel you've at least given me that...
Dad: KIRSTEN! HONEY!
Dad: ... HEY! I'M HERE TO TALK TO MY DAUGHTER!
Hailey Brooks: I suggest you get the FUCK out of here, right now, or you will be escorted out in a manner you DON'T deem fit...
Dad: Don't you even try to get involved in MY FAMILY'S business. I have EVERY RIGHT to talk to my family!
Hailey Brooks: I'm sorry, asshole, maybe you didn't hear me, you're not welcome here...
Dad: I have my rights...
Hailey Brooks: No, you can rephrase that. You HAD your rights. You lost them. That girl you always manipulated is gone. The WOMAN she has become is not a puppet for you to pull the strings on anymore, asshole...
Mom: I'm done too. We are done. I filed the divorce papers this morning and they were to be served to you tomorrow!
Hailey Brooks: Welp it looks like you're batting 0-fer tonight with the women who SHOULD have mattered most in your life, than those you just let amuse your cock...
Dad: Out of my way...
Hailey Brooks: Yeah, I don't think so, "Tim..."
Hailey Brooks: ... And a thank you!
Hailey Brooks: Fucker was making me get up from my food and it was getting cold!
Hailey Brooks: As you two were...
Mom: As I was hoping to tell you... I filed from divorce from your father. I didn't want to lead with that. I wanted to speak my peace about the past, first. You deserved to hear the truth before hearing me state what I was doing on my end. I am done with the manipulation. YOU opened my eyes. YOU brought me to reality. YOU made me realize I was just a piece of his scheme. YOU are a source of strength I will need in MY future... OUR future... But I will not demand it of you. I will ask it. But I won't demand it. I've done enough demanding of you. But it's now I start caring for myself, and rebuilding the bridges I've burned. And no bridge is more important than yours.
Kirsten Scott: I can't trust you. I can barely trust anyone. What you just saw was what happens when I finally feel capable of trusting someone. They are there. If you will be there, I will commit to one thing and one thing only... And that is whatever "step two" is, and WE decided it is. Not you, not me. WE. If you allow us to find an amicable next step to this, then you have my word I'll commit to cutting into the wedge between us from my end as well...
Life doesn't always hand you lemons. Sometimes it doesn't even give you fruit, but yet it still asks you to make of it what you will, and that is where I am at today. My estranged mother, the woman who allowed me to be put in so many situations I never wished, reaches out to me and wants to talk, and it takes everything in my soul not to simply say two words...
"Fuck Off..."
But the biological connection between mother and daughter cannot be ignored as reading her words made me question everything I had believed for so long because of a look in her eye when we saw one another. Everything I believed I had known was thrown into oblivion when she looked at me with eyes that only a mother who loved her child could give. And I was confused. I was distraught. I was forced to wonder if my mother actually cared about me when my father only cared about himself. I was forced into a situation where I could utilize life's two most basic instincts...
Fight... Or flight...
I had never, metaphorically, flown, a day in my life and I wasn't about to begin now, so I had to force myself into a situation where fighting made sense. I had to find a way that fighting would be best for me, my sanity, and the potential ideal situation that my mother meant well. So I conversed with my friends, my "real family," and I asked them what I should do. I engaged with Emma for guidance. I looked deep inside and all I could find was an answer to the question of "How?" that wouldn't put me, or any others, in a sense of potential danger mentally, physically, or emotionally. And as Anthony Bourdain described it, in a place, "indeed marvelous. An irony free zone, where nothing hurts."
Inside of one of the staple establishments of the south and Midwest, the Waffle House, it is late at night on a Saturday. The normal clientele from the bars are beginning to slowly venture in and take seats, joining a couple at one table and two other individuals already inside. One is a hooded person at the bar, sipping a cup of coffee and eating their food, and the other is Kirsten Scott, sitting at the booth furthest from the entrance, but still facing it. Her mannerisms tell the tale. She is nervous. She repeatedly is taking deep breaths, each time the door opens and more people flock in. It's also apparent when she seems startled when her food is brought to her and sat down on the table.
It's then, the door opens, and she gasps quickly as she sees her mom enter the restaurant. Her mom begins to scan the room and ultimately sees her daughter in the back booth. They lock eyes and there is a brief pause in both of their movements, before Kirsten's mom begins to approach the table. Upon arriving, words are initially scarce.
It's then, the door opens, and she gasps quickly as she sees her mom enter the restaurant. Her mom begins to scan the room and ultimately sees her daughter in the back booth. They lock eyes and there is a brief pause in both of their movements, before Kirsten's mom begins to approach the table. Upon arriving, words are initially scarce.
Mom: May I sit down?
Kirsten nods.
Kirsten Scott: Please... Do...
Her mom removes her coat and sets it into the booth along with her purse, before sitting down.
Kirsten Scott: ... Order anything you want. I'm paying...
The waitress sees the new member of the table and is quick to come and take her order.
Mom: ... I'll just have a cup of coffee, for now...
Kirsten Scott: You sure?
Mom: Right now... I'm too nervous to eat... This really wasn't the location I envisioned us having our first real conversation with one another, you know?
Kirsten Scott: It's probably not the "perfect" establishment, but it seemed like a secluded and "unlikely" enough place we could meet. I wanted it to be an open venue, and honestly, with all of the people coming in from the bars, it's going to be loud and chaotic enough where we can talk, and nobody will be paying attention to us. We will just fall into the noise. And let's be real... It gives us the potential for some entertainment to cut through the tensions with this group of patrons coming in...
The last line breaks her mother's nerves enough to bring out a small chuckle. Kirsten's tone, then, returns to the seriousness it had initially.
Kirsten Scott: ... So you texted me. What's this all about? What does Dad know about this? Is this really his doing, and you're just playing along? I'm asking all of this for a reason. When I looked at you in the grocery store, you looked like you were happy to see me... Like I mattered. You looked like you cared about ME. But I'll be honest and say I've been fooled by that look before, and I'm not going to be again. And in everything I do, I always put contingency plans in place in case things go wrong, so I'll be honest... If this is a setup, I'm three steps ahead of you both...
Kirsten's mom has her head slowly look down, feeling guilty, and knowing that everything Kirsten just said comes from a very real, and very valid place. She slowly looks up, with obvious guilt in her eyes.
Mom: Your father knows nothing about this. I reached out, and came on my own accord. There is a truth you need to know and understand. Your father and I have been estranged and on very little speaking terms since the raid. Because I'll be honest, I never wanted you to be forced to go out there to The Compound with us. I wanted to leave you at home. I wanted you to be oblivious for your own safety. But he insisted, and when you became "The One," I hated it. I really did. It meant that we had lost you as our "daughter" from that point forward, and were just "clients" to you at that point... Nothing more...
She takes a deep breath and blows it out, cheeks puffing out, before continuing.
Mom: ... And from there, your father manipulated me to believe that, having you as "The One" was one of the best things for us and everyone around us. It would mean we could do whatever we wanted, and in his eyes, you'd protect us, and ensure we were always safe, both physically and financially. We would never be suspected of anything.
Since the raid, however, we've been investigated up and down, multiple times. And rightfully so. And... Before you think I'm here to ask anything of that, you can stop. I'm simply filling you in. I want nothing in regard to the past. I reached out because I'm tired of not having a relationship with my little girl. I'm tired of not being able to be proud of what you did, and what you will do going forward. I'm tired of knowing all I'm known for is your suffering, and not doing my best to begin the process of making amends and righting my wrongs...
Kirsten pauses, and takes a deep breath. She wants to really absorb everything her mom just unloaded on her before responding, WANTING to trust her, but still unsure of the validity of her honesty. After a brief pause, she replies.
Kirsten Scott: So then answer me why? Why did you do it? Why did you always go along with me being sent off to my room like a wretch, so you two could just fuck whatever visitor you two brought in that night?
This blunt response begins to make her mother have tears stream down her face. But she doesn't use it as a mechanism to garner sympathy. She fights through the tears to answer and continue the honesty with her daughter.
Mom: ... I... I was always told it would make his and my love for one another grow more. Everything I did or said was because he made me believe it. He forced the first situation on me before you were born, and then played to my weaknesses of believing it was making us stronger each time after. He would tell me that he wasn't "forcing" it on me, but he always was. He would say he wouldn't do anything to hurt me, but it was destroying me on the inside, and showing his selfishness.
Kirsten Scott: I'm going to be blunt and ask if I'm REALLY supposed to believe you were that naive all along? Am I supposed to believe this sob story of him being this ultimate brain in this constant barrage of menage-et-trois? Am I supposed to believe he knew that soft spot button of yours to push every time, and you never once questioned it?
Her mom shakes her head.
Mom: No. You're not. Because it sounds like crap. I know it. I kick myself because I allowed it. So no... I don't expect you to believe it, but that's why I'm here. That's why I said I had to take the steps to begin repairing THIS. I couldn't make excuses anymore.
I mean, "on paper" I know how it looks. I look like I'm saying what I need to say to not take any blame. I participated. I'm to blame, too. I fell into the lifestyle, and it just became a "norm," and I pushed my questions and feelings aside because I had been told the same thing over and over. I didn't see it hurt you, so I didn't believe the pain existed. But I didn't come here to feed you lies, either. I came here to do what was right and tell the truth from my standpoint.
She takes a deep breath to calm the tears.
Mom: I didn't come here to "convince" you. I came here to tell you the truth, and do it to your face. You deserve that. I'm to the point in MY life where I have to make decisions about your father and I, and they won't be easy to do. But the fact is we were both played. And yes, I went along with everything, and at a point, it was without hesitation. I'm not going to lie to you about it. And I never took into consideration about how it would hurt or impact you. And you deserve to hear that, and the truth, from my mouth, one on one...
Those words hit Kirsten deep. They weren't ones she expected to hear, as she was taking accountability, and not trying to simply act as if she should magically be forgiven. Kirsten pokes around at her food, thinking about trying to take a bite, but just sets the fork back down before continuing on.
Kirsten Scott: So what are you wanting from all of this?
Mom: I'm simply taking what I believe is the first step forward. After this, I don't know what to expect or want from you, or out of this. But this was what I felt needed to be "step one."
Kirsten Scott: And... You understand where I'm coming from, right? Why this just seems so... Convenient?
Mom: Of course I do. I didn't do something until we all met up in an unlikely space, and then I reached out. It's a perfect storm...
Kirsten Scott: Too perfect...
Mom: And I don't care about that, because it needed to happen, and I'm not a superhero for doing it, but I'm also not going to allow it to be a wedge anymore. I'm going to begin chipping away at it on my side, and if I have to do all of the work I will.
Kirsten nods lightly.
Kirsten Scott: Then I need reassurances...
Mom: You deserve them... So what kind?
Kirsten Scott: I don't know. But I need reassurances he's not part of this. That he's not manipulating you again. That this isn't his way to try to get back to me to protect HIS ASS...
Mom: Then you've told me my job, then... You've told me what you need... You've told me what you expect... I told you I didn't come here expecting this grand reunion. I didn't come to convince you. I came with hope. I came with hope that we could find a way to take whatever "step two" or even "step one-point-five" would be. I feel you've at least given me that...
The servers at Waffle House have been able to see that, among the inebriate population they are mostly surrounded by, Kirsten and her mom have been in a much more serious conversation and have stayed back. As the tension seems to wane, a server approaches the pair, hoping to make sure they're OK, as Kirsten goes in actually taking a bite of her food. Her mom actually glances at the menu, and is about to order when the door of the restaurant can be heard violently opening, catching the server and Kirsten's attention.
Kirsten's eyes widen as she sees her father storming in, short of breath. Kirsten's mom sees this reaction, knowing she was about to say one final thing, and sees her husband looking around the room as well. His eyes make it their way, and he locks eyes with Kirsten.
Kirsten's eyes widen as she sees her father storming in, short of breath. Kirsten's mom sees this reaction, knowing she was about to say one final thing, and sees her husband looking around the room as well. His eyes make it their way, and he locks eyes with Kirsten.
Dad: KIRSTEN! HONEY!
At this point, the inebriated basis of most of the people in the restaurant quickly shuffle their focus toward the man yelling louder than their combined volume. At this same time, like a ninja, the hooded figure, sitting at the counter the whole time minding their business, spins in their chair and removes the hood to reveal themselves as Hailey, who was Kirsten's "contingency plan" in this situation. Hailey's responsibility was to simply be there on the off chance her father showed up, and otherwise stay silent and inconspicuous.
She stares the man down, who immediately recognizes her.
She stares the man down, who immediately recognizes her.
Dad: ... HEY! I'M HERE TO TALK TO MY DAUGHTER!
Hailey takes two steps and gets in her father's face.
Hailey Brooks: I suggest you get the FUCK out of here, right now, or you will be escorted out in a manner you DON'T deem fit...
Dad: Don't you even try to get involved in MY FAMILY'S business. I have EVERY RIGHT to talk to my family!
Hailey gets closer to him and lowers her tone to a whisper, where only he can hear.
Hailey Brooks: I'm sorry, asshole, maybe you didn't hear me, you're not welcome here...
He grits his teeth and looks at Hailey.
Dad: I have my rights...
Hailey Brooks: No, you can rephrase that. You HAD your rights. You lost them. That girl you always manipulated is gone. The WOMAN she has become is not a puppet for you to pull the strings on anymore, asshole...
Hearing the initial commotion between Hailey and her husband, Kirsten's mom stands up and turns and looks in his direction.
Mom: I'm done too. We are done. I filed the divorce papers this morning and they were to be served to you tomorrow!
Kirsten's eyes go wide, and Hailey's head even turns around on a dime, surprised at this assertion. Hailey then looks directly at Kirsten's mom, smirks and nods, before turning back toward Kirsten's father.
Hailey Brooks: Welp it looks like you're batting 0-fer tonight with the women who SHOULD have mattered most in your life, than those you just let amuse your cock...
Dad: Out of my way...
He begins to try and push Hailey aside, and very nonchalantly she grabs him by the shoulders and elevates her knee directly into his groin area, forcing him to let out a groan, and the drunks in the room to let out an "ooohhh!"
Hailey Brooks: Yeah, I don't think so, "Tim..."
Hailey, then, spins him around and begins to escort him back toward the door, as he bends over grabbit his crotch. A patron awaiting a table immediately opens the door and motions for her to escort him out of the building.
Hailey Brooks: ... And a thank you!
She opens the second door to the entry and puts a boot in his backside pushing him onto the sidewalk outside. She walks back in, and is again given a held door by the patron.
Hailey Brooks: Fucker was making me get up from my food and it was getting cold!
There is a silly applause from the drunks who don't know WHAT they have just witnessed, whereas the staff, having served both Kirsten and Hailey, understand there is much more under the surface. The staff immediately grab Hailey's food and say they'll remake it, and warm up her coffee, while Hailey simply takes her seat again. She looks over at Kirsten and her mom and gives them one simple instruction.
Hailey Brooks: As you two were...
Hailey puts the hood back over her head, and Kirsten's mom realizes that her daughter had, indeed, taken everything into account when planning this meet up. The server comes over and she actually places her order, before turning to Kirsten, who is still kind of shocked by the situation.
Mom: As I was hoping to tell you... I filed from divorce from your father. I didn't want to lead with that. I wanted to speak my peace about the past, first. You deserved to hear the truth before hearing me state what I was doing on my end. I am done with the manipulation. YOU opened my eyes. YOU brought me to reality. YOU made me realize I was just a piece of his scheme. YOU are a source of strength I will need in MY future... OUR future... But I will not demand it of you. I will ask it. But I won't demand it. I've done enough demanding of you. But it's now I start caring for myself, and rebuilding the bridges I've burned. And no bridge is more important than yours.
Kirsten sits back in the booth and lets out an audible expulsion of breath.
Kirsten Scott: I can't trust you. I can barely trust anyone. What you just saw was what happens when I finally feel capable of trusting someone. They are there. If you will be there, I will commit to one thing and one thing only... And that is whatever "step two" is, and WE decided it is. Not you, not me. WE. If you allow us to find an amicable next step to this, then you have my word I'll commit to cutting into the wedge between us from my end as well...
Kirsten's mom simply nods, as her food is expedited to her. The two eat, and for the most part simply sit in silence. There is some idle banter about the world, but nothing significant about either side. Both know they each need time to think on what will represent that "next step" for their relationship. Hailey peeks out from her hood and sees the situation, and can deduce where things stand, knowing that time is now the only thing separating the pair, but is not forcing them to rush.
12-21-2023, 10:13 PM
The Witches of Alden
”Nothing”
Frost ‘Forever Home’
Manhattan, New York
December 17th, 2023
6:13pm
It had been a long, few days of travel from California back to Manhattan. And while Deanna normally would have taken a flight back for such distances, she didn’t regret taking ‘the long way’ this time around. Travelling with Eric had felt like… like the good ol’ days, the thought bringing a smile to her face as she stood outside her house.
Yes, HER house.
That was something she had realized in her talks with Eric as they had travelled. How, as long as she had been involved with Selena Frost, Deanna had always followed behind her. Always viewed everything in her life as part of ‘Selena’s world’.
SCW had been Selena’s job, Deanna had merely joined in.
The house had been bought with Selena’s money. Deanna just lived in it.
The ‘Frost’ family. Deanna simply married into it – it truly belonged to Selena.
In short, everything Deanna had in her life, she had felt on some level, really belonged to her wife. It was why Deanna had left their home to try and force Selena’s hand and give them time to think. It was why she was fighting so hard in SCW to establish herself as her own woman. It was because she had felt for so long that she had no claim or right to the life she lived or the job she worked. It wasn’t the ‘lineage’ crap lines that Kristen Scott had been spewing – which made no sense because she wasn’t some ‘bloodline’ or ‘familial’ relative of the Frost family, but little of what The One said made sense these days – but it was about earning some kind of right to the life lived.
That was what Eric had made her realize.
What, if not that, had those two years in Frankfurt prison earned her? What, if not that, had her fighting Selena’s battles against the likes of Killjoy and the Scythes earned her? What, if not that, had the last eight years of defying every challenge and surviving every trial against enemies like the Frostmere clan proven?
Casting her eyes down, Deanna gazed at her small hands. They weren’t as pale as her wife’s, but they had been through as much. They had survived as much as Selena had, fought wars that, really, shouldn’t have involved Deanna in the first place.
”You earned the right to live in that house as a Frost a long time ago.” Eric had said. ”To wrestle as a Frost. To be acknowledged as a Frost. If all of that… going through all of that… if you or Selena truly believe that hasn’t given you a right to the life you lead… than you’re wrong. Plain and simple.”
Deanna sighed as her hands balled into fists. She had been listening to too many people like Scott. People that continued to claim that she had been ‘riding Selena’s coattails’ her whole life. People that continued to use her wife as the biggest ‘insult’ despite what Deanna had proven over and over again. She had listened to that line so many times, some part of her had begun to believe it on some level and that needed to end!
She deserved the life she had. She had a right to the feelings she felt. To the things she believed in. Maybe she still had things to prove in SCW, but as a wife and partner? She had more than proven her worth as Selena’s equal!
”So stop going to her as if she’s someone you’re trying to be worthy of. Go to her because you ARE worthy of her…” Eric’s words continued to echo in Deanna’s mind. ”Listen to her and talk to her as her equal.”
That’s why she had asked Eric to drop her off in front of her ‘Forever Home’. Why she was walking up the porch, reaching for keys and unlocking a door with one hand while she held her bag with the other. She had tried to force Selena’s hand through ‘tough love’ and ‘absence’. Not because she was trying to be cruel, but because, deep down, she had believed her words would not be strong enough. Worthy enough.
But she was worthy. She believed that. But that also meant seeing Selena as the human and person that she was – even now when it seemed like a fascade to the redhead. She would approach Selena directly now. Not with hatred or spite, but with patience. She would stand her ground and she would listen to the Snow Queen. No more holding her wife to a ‘standard’ of the past or some previous ‘version’ she had loved, but rather try and see the person Selena was now.
Why not? Hadn’t Deanna, herself, changed? If the past four or five months hadn’t proven that, she didn’t know what would. She was a different wrestler than her wife. Her promos and style were different. True, she still didn’t have a name for herself or some kind of identity beyond being ‘Deanna Frost’ but it was enough for now. The point was that change was possible and she needed to accept that of her wife.
Determined, the redhead turned the door handle and entered the house, seeing only a few lights left on. “Hello?” she called out, receiving no answer. “Selena? Elsianna? David? Amiliah? Oberon?”
The sound of barking was heard as the loud, white fluffball that was Oberon bounded across the house, rushing towards Deanna for pats and scratches. “Hello, boy.” Deanna beamed, giving the beast the affection he so desperately wanted. “Least you’re happy to see me!” A few minutes passed of such affections until a satisfied Oberon was back in his pen, lying on the floor.
Dusting her hands off, Deanna gazed around the house, a little surprised that no other person had greeted her. Shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the hanger by the door, she spotted the piece of paper on the nearby table. “Taken the kids to the movies tonight. Gerda.” She recognized the older woman’s handwriting. The contents didn’t surprise Deanna. Amiliah had been raving to see that new Disney movie, ‘Wish’.
“Selena?” Deanna called out again, once more receiving no answer. Was the Snow Queen off somewhere? Maybe out for a drive or a walk? Logically, that made sense, and yet… she could not stop the feeling of dread that crawled up her spine. “Selena?” she called a little louder, checking the kitchen area, then the downstairs, calling her wife’s name out a little louder each time. With each new room, she noticed something more and more.
How much emptier each room seemed. There were fewer things in the family room and kitchen. In the basement, there were less clothes hanging on the drying racks. However, it wasn’t until Deanna had reached her bedroom that her heart stopped and her blood ran cold.
Her bedroom seemed the same at a quick glance. Made and neat, but the walk-in closet… was barely full of her only Deanna’s clothes. The side that had held Selena’s clothes, her shirts, pants and dresses and shoes… was empty. “SELENA?!” Deanna called out, immediately rushing around the entire house, almost in a frenzy. There was only one more room she hadn’t checked. One that her wife had not visited since she had quit SCW – so Deanna believed. She almost tumbled down the stairs, but refused to slow her pace, spinning around the newel post and rushing back down the steps, past the movie room and into Selena’s office. She barely acknowledged the space, instead rushing to the side where the books on the shelf were, pulling at the ‘secret fake book’ of ‘The Snow Queen’ by Hans Christian Anderson to unlock the secret doorway that lead into Selena’s ‘trophy room’, where she kept her titles and trophies from SCW.
“SELENA!” Deanna didn’t know why she called out when part of her already knew what she was about to see. Still, the sight still chilled her to the core. For like the closet, the room was bare, the once full room (a representation of a decade of wrestling) nothing more than bare walls and a carpet. Everything that had belonged to Selena was gone.
As if she had never been in the house to begin with.
Desperately, Deanna stumbled out of the room, her hands clumsily fumbling to get her phone out of her pocket. Shaking, she tried to dial her wife’s phone number, failing the first two times, but succeeding on the third, only to feel the crushing sensation in her chest as the message came. “The number you have dialed is currently not in service”.
Her legs felt weak, she felt dizzy, but even so, she managed to pull herself out of the room, back up the stairs, and into her bedroom. Drawing closer to the bed, however, she spotted the envelope that had blended in with the white sheets. Picking it up, hands still shaking, she ripped it open and pulled the letter out. The handwriting was as recognizable as Gerda’s, but the message… the message was far more damaging.
I’m sorry, Deanna… I can’t do this anymore.
Deanna was sure she heard her heart shatter in that moment, her strength leaving her as she fell on the bed, letting whatever came out of her – tears, cries, screams – do so freely.
Selena was gone. Her wife…her love… her partner… was gone. Left her just like she had left SCW.
Driven out… just like SCW drove her out… Her broken mind mocked in-between sobs. Eric had been right. Deanna had earned this life…and she had earned every step of this fate…
_______________________________________________________________
So… where do we start?
Do we start at Fatal Fortunes? Do I talk about the success and the controversy? Do I talk about stepping up to another challenge and taking on not one but TWO hungry superstars in a strange match to retain the United States title? Or do I talk about the thing that keeps following me? The thing that I tried to push aside and yet it keeps finding me? The shadow that I have tried to fight my way out of for so long now?
Or… do I talk about what’s ahead of me.
You see, it’s really a phenomenal image when you think about it. I’ve got the shadow of the great Selena Frost chasing me… and I’ve got a chamber, like the Sword of Damocles hanging above me. And in front of me…
Well, honestly, I just don’t know. I don’t know what is in front of me because this feels less and less like a certainty like it did a few weeks ago and more and more like a third week – a third round – of Fatal Fortunes. And I will give Kristen Scott all the credit in the word. She has let this thing fester. She has calculated everything. She has planned this. She has stacked the deck so in her favor that any gambler would put their money on her and her team working together to victory.
I mean, that makes sense right? Is anyone REALLY expecting me to trust Asher Hayes or James Evans or for them to trust me? I mean, just last week Hayes called my wife a bitch and Evans was having dreams of ‘amalgamating’ my championship into his own little collection – his own little ‘House’.
Well, as someone that had their own little ‘house’ in the past, I can tell you dysfunction is par for the course. Fights, arguments, disagreements, even blows can happen. But what unites a house in times of crisis? A common goal. And let me tell you something, Kristen, that was your first mistake. Your first mistake was to think that Evans, Hayes, and I cannot function under these conditions. That we cannot co-exist under this ‘do-or-die’ stipulation. But I tell you, as someone that has fought Asher Hayes and someone that has watched James Evans for years, I know for a fact that when push comes to shove, those two will deliver and seek victory rather than excuses like you do.
But let’s leave that to the side, shall we? Let’s not talk about the others so much and, instead, let’s talk about you and me. You have made it abundantly clear where you stand in this creation of yours. You… you’ve established the certainty of your mind, you’ve called your shot, you’ve guaranteed success against me for the umpteenth time. It is not just a ‘prediction’ that Kristen Scott will beat Deanna Frost and become United States Champion, it is, to you, a bona-fide, written on the walls, carved into SCW’s halls ‘truth’.
But here’s the thing, One. I don’t hear that and get that ‘dread’ that you’re trying to instill. I don’t get that and feel ‘fear’ like you’re trying to make me feel. I don’t feel ‘trapped’ by being put back in the chamber. I don’t feel ‘the end’.
I hear that from you, and I see the desperation in your eyes. I hear it in your voice.
Because let’s be honest, here, Kristen, that’s what this REALLY is, isn’t it? You talk about this being the match that ‘matters’. The win that ‘matters’ to you? No other loss counts, right? That’s what you’ve told yourself and the SCW Universe. That this match defines our history and our rivalry.
Then what the hell was the last chamber match you and I fought in? Remember? The one where you stated I was nothing more than ‘collateral damage’? The one where you broke my arm to ‘make a point’? You talked about it. The one where, even with a broken arm, I pinned you and eliminated you? Did that not matter?
What about after that? Where I challenged you to a one-on-one match and you refused because I wasn’t worth your time? You wanted the big fish that was my wife? You wanted the gold that was the tag-team titles we held? You know, the one where, apparently, I made this personal after YOU sought out Pro and YOU dragged her into this, having her attack Selena and I from behind? Did that tag-match not matter because you lost again when I PINNED you and beat you?
Too far back? When let’s be more recent, shall we?! Let’s talk about Apocalypse! Where you faced me in a triple threat match for this title with Kelsai Adamson and I BEAT you again! Did that not matter because you already had your Trios shot?
Because those moments of our history, Kristen, they matter. They matter to me. Those were moments where you came and said the exact same words you are saying now. Words of ‘certainty’ and ‘old guard’ and ‘trajectory’ and ‘changing SCW’ and ‘death and taxes’. Predictions of the future that would be ‘made to truth’. And each and every time you’ve shoved those words into my face, I’ve come back and made you eat them! I’ve stood my ground and beaten you! I’ve taken everything you’ve had, played every one of your games by your own rules, and I’ve won time and time again!
See, that’s kind of my thing, Scott. I don’t say ‘this doesn’t matter’ or ‘this match doesn’t matter’. I don’t say crap like “I win when it matters”. I just win. Someone sets the bar and I reach it.
They said I couldn’t get past just being ‘Selena’s wife’.
Then they said Deanna will never make it as a singles wrestler.
Then they said that Deanna will never make it as a singles champion.
Then they said that Deanna will never make it as a ‘dominant’ champion.
Then they said that Deanna will never make it through the chamber.
Higher and higher, the bar has been raised, Kristen, and each and every time, I grab it. Each and every time, I dig deep, I refuse to give in, I refuse to make excuses, and I learn from my mistakes and I grab that bar.
And then there is you. Who hides behind a supposed ‘conspiracy’ of being held back. Who claims that I got ‘lucky’ in not facing you when YOU couldn’t measure up to the challenge of that royale. Who claims that they ‘accept’ their losses but in the same breath proclaims that I ‘paid off’ the roster to cause said loss?
Let me ask you something about Under Attack, Kristen. The night that, apparently, I caused all of this from. Was it that hard just to ask me? No really! Because if you wanted in the chamber, why didn’t you just come to me like Gavin Taylor did and just ask? Why didn’t you look me in the eye and say ‘Hey! Deanna! I want in on this chamber!’. You think I would have said ‘no’ to the woman that’s beaten Syren and Kandis? You think I would have said ‘no’ to a hungry competitor like you? One of the most dominant Television Champions in recent months? You think I would have said no to the woman that constantly looks down on me and still, no matter how many times I’ve beaten her, uses the same old lines because she refuses to accept the actual truth that is before her?
But you didn’t come to me, One. You didn’t go to CHBK. You did nothing but hide away and make excuses.
And here you are now, proclaiming that you are the underdog.
And that, One, that is the ultimate… compliment for me. That is the ultimate compliment that you could have given me because it sums everything up so nicely, doesn’t it? To go from being nothing but ‘collateral damage’ to you, to ‘not being worth your time compared to Selena Frost’, to being worth your efforts to get a title, to being worth you using your Trios Cash-in, to being the odds-on-favorite – your own words - against a woman that began seeing me as nothing more than a worthless means to an end. I could not ask for a better evolution! I could not ask for a better statement of a journey!
Because that’s what really kills you, doesn’t it, Scott?! That despite you pushing me down, I am where and what you wish to be! I have evolved and powered through and endured to the point where I can surpass you! Where I can beat you! Where I can be seen, and believed, to be the better wrestler with more heart, grit and guts than you will ever have!
That’s why you need everything else to ‘not matter’. That’s why you need to twist the narrative while you quietly stack the deck against me. To undo that truth of a journey. Because you lose? Nothing changes for you! You go back to whining and complaining, maybe while you’re chasing the world title. I lose in a clean sweep? Then, by YOUR own devise, the division I have fought for with all my heart and soul gets ripped away from me! The division that I have fought in tournaments for, fought in chambers for, I become exiled from! No second chances, no ‘this match doesn’t matter cause I’ll get another chance’ style like you, no nothing!
You say this is the match that matters to you, Scott?! You have made it matter even more to me! Because it’s not just this championship that I am fighting for at this point, is it? I am fighting for that story! I am fighting for that evolution! That journey I have taken – that the SCW Universe and I have taken together as they have grown to see me as more than just a ‘Frost’! I am fighting for my existence here in the United States championship division! You say our past doesn’t matter? That nothing matters but tonight? Then beating you is no longer an ‘option’, Kristen, it is a NECESSITY for me! Because if THAT is your truth? If that is what is written on the walls of SCW, then the last few months of my career where I risked everything, both personal and professional, is forgotten and I am back to being the girl that was broken by ‘The One’. I go back to where I was that night you broke my arm! And everything I have earned, including the respect of the SCW Universe? It goes away, doesn’t it?
You’re not just coming after my title, Scott, You’re coming for everything that I am and everything I have worked for and become since that fateful night. And I am telling you, you’re going to need every ‘trick’ in your book because the only way you are taking EVERYTHING from me is if you rob me of every ounce of life in my body! The only way you get your twisted narrative of an ending is to break me worse than anyone ever has! Because I do not care how ‘impossible’ it is to win two chamber-matches in one year. I do not care how ‘unheard of’ it is to co-exist with Asher Hayes and James Evans. I do not care how ‘meaningless’ you view the past!
Tonight, Kristen Scott, I take your ONE shot! I do the unthinkable, I show that the past – the journey - MATTERS, and I do the impossible! Because out of the two of us, Kristen, I am the only one with the guts who is willing to try!
Checkmate, bitches!