04-27-2019, 05:03 PM
04-30-2019, 09:40 PM
April 14th, 2019
Rookies Sports Bar and Grill. They were jam packed on a Sunday Night, and why wouldn’t they? Supreme Championship Wrestling was in town. For the unfortunate few who couldn’t make it to the KeyArena, Rookies is the place to be to be among rapid Supreme Championship Wrestling fans. Every match on the show caused the patrons to be on the edge of their collective seats. They cheered (and boo’ed) their favorite and most hated Supreme Championship Wrestling performers. No match disappointed. The patrons were going crazy when Giovanni trashed the United States Championship, some were pissed to high heaven that a prestigious championship held by some of the greatest wrestlers in the history of the sport was literally treated as a disposable object, there were few that chimed in that the stunt that Giovanni pulled was the spark in the movement of The Wonderland. Despite what a lot of wrestlers on the roster may claim, there are legit fans out there who support the well intentioned extremist views of being the so called Savior of the masses.
A young woman sitting at the bar turns to her right. She looks at the gray hooded figure sitting right next to her. She casually ask, “What do you think about what that nut job did?”
Matter of fact, the person wearing the grey hoodie replies “Nothing wrong with a little chaos.”
The young woman’s eyes widen. She is able to recognize the voice even in raucous atmosphere. Her first instinct is to reach over to unhood the person sitting next to her, mid way through her first instinct, she thinks better of it. Instead she opts for the smart route to uncover the identity of the person wearing the grey hood. “Shouldn’t you be at the Keystone Arena?” the young woman inquires.
The person under the grey hood takes a sip of their drafts beef. “Smart call on your part. If you would have touched me, I would have broken your face.”
Any normal person would have ran away in fear. For some odd reason, the young woman smirks. “Figured it was you.”
With her cover officially blown, Brittany removes the hood from her face. She looks directly at the young woman who struck up a conversation with her. “No point.”
“Nancy” the young woman is excited to formally introduce herself to the War Machine.
In response, Brittany sighs, “I didn’t ask for your name.”
Not fazed, Nancy replies. “Now you know. What brings you to this side of town? Aren’t you wrestlers supposed to be a tight knit group? No one leaves a show early.”
Brittany takes another sip from her drafts beer. “Nothing for me to do. I showed up. I lost to Xander Valentine, hell of a fight, life goes on, now I’m here.”
Brittany wanted to leave the conversation at that. She knew on some level she would not be able to escape detection in a very public place. It was a risk she was willing to the take, the last place she wanted to be after her loss to Xander Valentine was inside the KeyArena. She didn’t want to be there any longer then she needed to be. She showed up at the arena late. Didn’t arrive until twenty minutes before her match was set to take place. No trip to the dressing room, she showed up to the arena already in her ring gear, she had word sent out that she would be where the SCW crew kept the production crates until she had to show up to Gorilla to walk down to the ring for her match.
Once the match was over, Brittany walked to the back. Showered. Got dressed. Left the arena as swiftly as she arrived. Instead of going back to her motel, she didn’t feel like being alone. The only thing that made sense to her was to go to a sports bar, everyone else would be more focused on watching what was left of the pay per view, as long as she wore a hoodie, no one would bother to drum up conversation. She was wrong, obviously, for the moment she is stuck talking to an interested fan.
Would have been simple for Brittany to just walk away. Nancy didn’t pose any threat. Unlikely she would see her again. Britt is of the mindset there is no point going to Seattle unless you need to. Sorry Aaron Blackbourne. Not sorry.
“Screw it.” Brittany sighs. She stands up. “Come with me.”
Nancy looks at the television. “But the main event--”
Brittany grabs Nancy’s arm. “Sienna is winning. The end. You want to talk, come with me. If you don’t, I’ll leave. Your choice.”
Nancy looks at the television, then looks straight into Brittany’s cold blue eyes. Not interested in waiting, Brittany starts to leave Nancy where she is currently sitting. As Brittany walks through the crowd with the hoodie back on her head she hears Nancy cry out. “Wait!” Brittany kept walking to the bathroom. Didn’t take a second longer for Nancy to walk into the bathroom behind her. The War Machine locks the door.
“Wow, never thought I would be alone with the great Brittany Lohan.”
“Don’t call me great.” Brittany flatley says.
Lowering her head, Nancy replies, “I’m sorry.”
Brittany sighs. She punches the door. “Never apologize. Lift your head.”
Nancy naturally flinched. She promptly followed the command of Brittany. “So, why aren’t you at the arena watching your girl defend the interim World Title?”
Britt allows a slight firm to form. “Will always feel a sense of pride about Sienna.” The smirk suddenly fades away. “I did my job. I played a role in preparing her for the path she conquered. That’s about it.”
Nancy looks confused. “You two don’t hang out?”
Britt shakes her head. “Do I look like one of the beauty people?” She pauses, allowing that statement to linger in the air. “She is doing her thing. Modeling. Saving the world. Chasing Chris Cannon like a love sick puppy, who knows what she is up to with him. I barely know a goddamn thing. Would it be nice if I was there to cheer Regan, Sienna, whoever on? Sure, but we live separate lives. Sienna has her. Regan has hers. No big deal.”
“But they are your friends--” Nancy doesn’t hesitate to remind Brittany.
“--with lives. One friend has a family. The other friend is dedicating herself to saving puppies. I don’t like puppies.” Brittany scrunches her face.
“No offense, I’m not buying her For The People message. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’m not going to kill you for having an opinion.”
“Good.” Nancy breathes a sigh of relief. “Mind me asking, what do you like?”
“Irrelevant.” Brittany snaply replies. “You wanted to know why I’m here, now you know. We’re done.” Nancy doesn’t respond to the clear and direct message Brittany gave her as she refuses to budge one inch. “Stand aside.” Britt says with an extra base in her voice. Nancy doesn’t get the message. She continues to stand her ground for reasons only known to her. “I swear--”
A familiar voice behind the door interrupts into the tense moment. “Britannica, you in there?”
Brittany couldn’t believe Abigail Lindsay, her half sister, was on the other side of the door. But how she wondered. She didn’t tell Abigail she was going to Rookies Bar and Grill. The last time she saw Abigail that day was at the hotel a few hours before the show. They discussed how they were going to attack the day at large.
“If you’re wondering how I knew you were here. I kinda downloaded an app on your phone. Allows me to track wherever you are. I have the same app on mine, we’re even. Come out the bathroom before you do something you are likely going to end up in jail for.”
Nancy’s eyes widen. “J--jail? This wasn’t a plan to um--”
“Don’t worry” Abigail cuts in. “Britt doesn’t think ahead like I do. If it were me, I would have slipped a drug in your drink, escorted you through the back, had some fun. My sister may not be the tactician I am, but, she isn’t dumb enough to attack someone in the bathroom in a crowded bar with more than enough bystanders to identify who the would be assailant is.”
“I was wearing a hoodie. She is the only one who knows I’m here.”
“Look at you, stepping up your game. Impressive!”
Nancy reaches behind her to unlock the bathroom door. “It was nice meeting both of you. I’m taking your advice... have a nice night.”
Nancy opens the door, she runs out of there as fast as she can. Brittany grabs Abigail by the arm, yanks her into the bathroom, slams the door, then pins Abigail up against it. The ever playful Abigail smirks. “Kinky.”
Bothered by Abigail seemingly liking being rough housing her, Britt lets Abigail go. “Stop that!”
“Stop what? The spying or--”
Brittany doesn’t hesitate to say; “Both! Oh, and I don’t appreciate you spying on me”
“SOMEONE has to keep an eye on you. What if you broken her neck? Who was going to clean up the mess?”
Brittany folds her arms into her chest. Glaring at Abigail she matter of fact says; “I’m not a loose cannon.”
Satisfied with Brittany’s answer, Abigail nods. “I believe you. Anyway, we should go.”
The War Machine puts the hood back over her head, Abigail leads the way out the bar. Didn’t take long for them to reach Abigail’s motorcycle. Abi hops on first, Britt joins her.
Just as Abigail is about to fire up the ignition, she is halted by Brittany asking her a question. “Abi... how do you fit in?”
Abigail hops off the bike so she can look her into her sister’s empty blue eyes. Tilting her head to the side, she calmly tells her sister. “Simple answer; don’t. I didn’t. When Dawnie choose to stay home, I could have chosen the easy route of trying to cozy up to her friends. Honestly, what do I have share in common with Regan, Kennedy, Selena, the list goes on? Not a lot. I could have cozied up to Team Sasha, that isn’t me. I knew what I wanted. Doubt they approve of my actions. I am not going to sacrifice who I am just to be part of the cool kids. Here I am, threatening to run other human beings over with my bike. Breaking into hotel rooms. I’m a degenerate baby, proud of it.”
Abigail pats herself on the back. Britt is unfazed by Abigail’s self agrandizing. “Anyway. You need to find your tribe. Go. Find someone to connect with, Xander is your type.”
Brittany didn’t bother to put up a defense to Abigail’s statement. Xander Valentine is by all accounts a monster. It is well known that Brittany Lohan has a type when it comes to men and women who have a penchant for violence... except Matty Stone. He is an outlier when it comes to Brittany’s usual type. Abigail took Brittany’s silence as a sign that she is right (as usual) about her sister.
Abigail hops back on the motorcycle. Revving the engine, she hands Brittany a helmet. “Lets get outta here.” Wrapping her arms around Abigail’s waist, Abigail speeds off into the night without a care in the world.