Chris Dumont vs. Amelia Nevado

[Kemal Yilmaz]

2 RP Limit for singles

3500 word limit

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET FRIDAY, July 31, 2026

[Thunderhorse]

(Dumont) "Self-Esteem"

[Wisteria Waltz]

One loss...

One loss was all it took to send Amelia back into her spiral.

She shouldn't have been as impacted by this. She'd been in the business long enough by now to know that everyone has hot and cold streaks, that no title reign lasts forever, that anyone can lose on any given night. She thought she'd regained enough confidence that this wouldn't bother her to the degree that it was.

And yet... she felt completely, utterly broken, and she knew exactly why.

In the closing moments of that match, all she had to do was tag Luz in. Both she and Deanna were in no condition to continue, Deanna after falling victim to the Blight Choke, and Amelia after Selena had decided to throw the rules out the window just to forcibly level the playing field. Deanna, despite the clear issues present between the Frosts, had still tagged in Selena. Luz was completely fresh and could have handled her, Amelia had no doubt about that. And yet, she had refused, desperate to prove Selena wrong herself...

And in the end, she had only proven her right.

'Failure'

'Disappointment'

'Pathetic'

Those words echoed in her mind, some replaying the familiar memories of her parents she thought she'd finally put behind her, others clearly using her own voice as her inner critic made absolutely sure she was well aware of what she was. She wanted to argue, wanted to blame Other Amelia for her influence in those final moments that drove her into that fatal mistake, but she didn't have the strength to fight with herself. All she could do was start to accept that maybe she was the weak link in The Light In The Darkness after all.

She was the reason their fourth reign as World Tag Team Champions had ended after only a month, their worst run to date.

And the part that stung the most... she'd never even gotten to hold the title belt she had left in Luz's care.

Her mind had been conflicted ever since the lead-up to Taking Hold of the Flame, being forced to reunite with Luz to defend the World Title and save the Tag Titles from the Glimmers, and the more time had passed, the more she began to realize the awful truth of just how far she'd truly fallen. No matter how much she tried to justify it to herself, all roads eventually led to the horrifying reality check that she had become the Blythe prodigy her parents had always wanted... this time, of her own doing.

The fact that Luz was even still putting up with her, trying to pull her back from this a second time when she never should've had to go through this again... that woman had far more patience than her ADHD would lead anybody to believe, and it was being wasted on someone like Amelia.

“Hang on Ames, just a little further.”

And yet, here they were. Breakdown had gone off the air, and for reasons her shattered mind was struggling to comprehend, Luz was helping her through the backstage area of the Moda Center. The thought briefly crossed her mind that, in the face of such a heart-wrenching failure, it was her wife who was there for her, not Frank Delatosso or anybody from the New Order. In the back of her mind, she'd always figured that would be the case... she'd had them all pegged as a bunch of snakes who only cared about themselves and cooperated only when asked to by the CEO or if they had to put up with each other. Of course none of them actually cared enough to help her right now. If anything, half of them were probably salivating at her defeat as proof that she was vulnerable and the New Order was in need of a new crown jewel.

'And you think Luz isn't?' Other Amelia took the opportunity to chime in. 'You know she wants to be World Champion too... she's even going to put Glory in her place to earn it, just like you could never do. Then again, you asked her to support you tonight, and she failed to-'

“Aquí estamos.”

The next thing Amelia knew, she was being lowered onto a bench, realizing that she'd only been vaguely tuning in and out of her surroundings ever since she'd heard the final bell. As she looked around, she realized Luz must've helped her to her own locker room, as Amelia had shared a locker room with the rest of the New Order tonight. The fact that Luz was there for her, acting like nothing had changed... it tore at her heart and she knew the tears were threatening to fall.

“Here, let me get some water for you. It's the least I can do after I let you down.”

Amelia's head snapped up at that comment, the look of raw shock on her face enough to cause Luz to stumble back in shock.

“Why are you blaming yourself?” she asked, her voice raw and broken. “I'm the one that got pinned! I'm the one who should've tagged you in! I'm the one who was such a useless, stubborn idiot who had to prove Selena wrong! I failed you Luz! I failed us!”

Judging by the sudden pain she felt shoot through her scalp, she knew she was blacking out in her spiral and trying to rip her own hair out of her head, as if it would somehow help. That had never been the case when she was a child, but she'd masked it with a false sense of feeling better just because her hair wasn't a mirror of her mother's if she tugged and yanked at it. It certainly wasn't doing her any favors now, and perhaps that was why she felt her hands gently pulled away from her hair as Luz's face filled her vision... her real face, the face of Luna Nevado, the face that Amelia was never supposed to see until the day Luz lost her mask as per lucha libre tradition.

“I'm just as much to blame,” Luz insisted. “I wasn't able to save you tonight despite having your back for reasons no one else seems to understand. I should've fought harder to be there for you, dove deeper to take your hand before you fell too far instead of letting everybody else gas me up over my title reigns.”

“Lulu... no... this is all my fault. I'm the one who let everyone get into my head and put me down, I'm the one who thought I needed to become something I never wanted to be just to succeed, it's all my fault for-”

Amelia found herself cut off by the familiar feeling of Luz's lips, something she hadn't experienced since Taking Hold of the Flame. Instinctively, she felt herself leaning into it, feeling the pleasant love of her wife ground her before she continued to fall into the abyss. As Luz gently pulled away, Amelia must've looked stunned given the goofy smile it brought to her beloved's lips before it softened into something kinder.

“You said earlier wasn't the time,” she noted. “Would now be a good time? I think we're long overdue for a talk.”

Amelia almost wanted to laugh at the absurd yet simple request. Technically, she had told Luz tonight wasn't a good time as a whole, but given recent events...

“Yeah... yeah, I think we are.”

'Opening up to someone who's only going to use it against you?' Other Amelia arrogantly mocked her. 'As if you weren't weak enough...'

“I'm not the one who insisted I had to be the one to stay in and beat Selena,” Amelia snapped back under her breath. As she glanced up, she saw Luz giving her a curious look, her heart twisting in her chest at the realization that without her mask, Amelia could see every detail of Luz's expressions more clearly now.

“The floor's yours, mi amor,” she finally said, keeping her tone gentle. “You've heard me out and pulled me out of my own head more times than I've been able to count... it's about time I return the favor.”

Amelia's breath hitched at the open invitation, even if she always knew it was there. She'd hesitated though, either stubbornly believing this was a problem she could solve on her own or because she didn't want to burden her wife with her problems... but she knew better. The jealousy, cultivated by that haughty voice in her head, had forced her to put her walls back up, and she wasn't going to make that mistake again.

“Luz... I'm sorry,” she choked out, feeling the tears start rolling down her cheeks. “I fell into a rough patch and instead of letting you be there for me, I let everyone else get into my head, convince me that I was only holding you back. For... for months now, I've had this voice in my head mocking me, telling me I wasn't good enough, trying to convince me that the only way I was ever going to fix that was to be the Blythe I was always meant to be.”

“Was it your mom's voice? Or your dad's?” Luz asked, being intimately aware by now of how much every stupid criticism she'd heard growing up had always lingered in Amelia's brain, leeching off her fractured sense of self-worth.

“Worse,” Amelia painfully admitted. “It was my own. 'Other Amelia,' I've been calling her. Dr. Bolton said it was an 'inner critic' preying on my spiral, trying to convince me to become... this.” She motioned to herself as if that made anything clearer. “This... bitch, for lack of a better term. This machine who could confidently call herself the best, this wrestler who wouldn't hold you back because she wasn't even supposed to need you anymore. I let myself become everything I hated, everything I never wanted to be again... because I was convinced it was the only way I'd ever get here. That I'd ever be good enough...”

“Ames,” Luz spoke, concern and sorrow lacing her tone as she sat down beside Amelia and gently wiped the tears away. “I should've known better, and I mean it when I say I'm just as much to blame here. I know your parents, I've seen what they've done to you... I know how fragile you think your confidence is, and I should've known it wasn't something that could just be fixed so easily. You're not a bad person, querida... your perspective has just been tainted by your parents, and we're probably in the worst business possible for trying to fix that.”

“You really don't think I'm a terrible person?” Amelia hesitantly asked. “Even after... everything?”

“I don't think a terrible person would've pulled a genuine Luz stunt like infiltrating The Empire just to protect me,” Luz confirmed.

Amelia felt her entire world shatter around her for the second time in the past half-hour. She hadn't planned on Luz finding out, at least not until she'd found a way to take Caleb White and his cult down from the inside once and for all... then again, she also hadn't planned on Luz even being aware she'd joined them at all, and Caleb had put a dagger through that hope.

“...you know?” she had to ask, had to know for sure.

“Sí,” Luz nodded. “I, um... put the pieces together just a few days ago. I figured there had to be a reason you'd join them, especially now that we all know I was an idiot for blindly trying to help someone who took advantage of my kind heart. Only someone with a kinder heart would pretend to join them just to try and stop me from spiraling if and when 'Paul' ever revealed who he truly was.”

“If only it were that simple,” Amelia sighed. “I... haven't been able to do anything, haven't had the guts to consider...” She trailed off, but the look in Luz's eyes made it clear she had a pretty good idea of where she was going, a thought that worried Amelia in and of itself. “It doesn't help that I know I've got a deadline now.”

“Caleb told you?” Luz asked, her own fears shining through.

“No, not yet,” Amelia shook her head. “I overheard his call to strike that deal with you. I just... I can't let you hand yourself over, Luz. I'm not-”

“You are worth it,” Luz firmly cut her wife off, stunning Amelia with the ferocity in her tone. “We're married until death do us part, Ames, and after everything we've been though, especially because of that pendejo, if anybody in this world deserves long, happy lives and wrestling success, it's us, especially you. It's why I refused to believe his stupid claim that the Amelia I know is dead, because if that were true? I wouldn't be talking with you right now, no Empire or New Order or inner critic to stop me or make you think you need to act like a Blythe when Amelia Nevado is and always has been more than good enough.”

Amelia just stared at Luz, the burning passion in her words slowly warming her body and melting the ice that had frozen her heart for the second time in her life. She could almost feel Luz's love for her beginning to finally weld the broken pieces of her sense of self back together again, clearing the haze to help her remember who she truly is.

'You are Amelia Blythe,' Other Amelia firmly insisted. 'Having her last name doesn't change that, and if you think she's right and I'm wrong, then tell me that brand on your wrist is wrong too.'

Amelia's breath hitched again as her eyes slowly moved down to her left wrist. Considering she always taped her wrists when she wrestled, no one would ever suspect that her flesh was scarred with the sigil of a cult that had become pretty well-known throughout the world by this point considering almost every government that existed was trying to track them down before they actually tried to enact their “humanity-cleansing holy war” Caleb constantly preached.

If Other Amelia was expecting that to be the nail in the coffin that ended this conversation and pushed Luz away again, though, then it was no surprise anything else she had to say was ignored as Amelia slowly started to undo the tape around her left wrist.

“Amelia?” Luz questioned. “What are you...?”

Luz's words trailed off into a gasp as the wrist tape was pulled away and discarded, and there was no denying the stomach-churning sight her wife was presenting to her with shame. In the center of her left wrist was a scar that clearly resembled the symbol of The Empire, burned into her skin for the rest of her life.

“This is what Caleb meant when he said the Amelia you knew was dead,” she shamefully explained, even as Luna reached out and traced her thumb along the lines branded into her flesh. “Right before my match at Hubris, I was 'properly initiated' into The Empire. He said it was his way of knowing for sure I wasn't going to betray him, that he started doing it after Darius and Evie's undercover operation years ago. Everybody in The Empire is branded... everyone except for him.”

She heard Luz cursing under her breath in Spanish, and the fact that her wife had been resorting to such language throughout their conversation when she very rarely swore only cemented just how much even she had come to hate the hypocritical holy man who sought to destroy everything about them. “You didn't have to...”

“If I was going to find a way to take him down... I did,” Amelia firmly admitted. “Just as I've had to pretend that he'd broken me just like my parents did to not raise any suspicion. He can't do anything about what happens during a show, and I know he hasn't paid enough attention to anything I've had to say in front of a camera... he's basically trusting Delatosso has the wrestling end covered without actually speaking with him.”

“Because not even our CEO would be stupid enough to discuss any business with one of the most wanted men across the entire globe,” Luz agreed. “But... you don't have to keep enduring this, Amelia! Come back with me, together we can...”

Amelia's other hand gently took Luz's and guided it away from her scarred wrist as she shook her head.

“I can't,” Amelia reluctantly said. “I can't tell you how badly I want to, Lulu, but... I'm in too deep now. If I don't leave here with my Empire escorts tonight, then what's stopping him from doing something to you and the others? No... we need to let this play out until Rise to Greatness weekend.”

“We need to end this, no matter what it takes,” Luz agreed, her tone darker than Amelia would have liked to hear, but unfortunately, it was the kind of mindset they both needed to have if they were going to do what she realized they both knew needed to be done. How, neither one of them were sure, but the silent conversation as they looked each other in the eyes grounded them both enough to believe they'd find a way, as well as support each other in the aftermath, so long as they did it together.

“Maybe, in the meantime, I can at least make it up to you by helping to get you out on the wrestling end,” Luz changed topics. “Are you actually facing Chris Dumont next week?” When Amelia nodded, Luz gave that brilliant grin of hers. “Then I'll be in your corner, just like you asked. Next week, we start heading back towards the light.”

“Gracias...” Amelia choked out before she and Luz exchanged a long overdue hug. As much as Amelia wished it could last forever, though, she knew they would have to part again until next week, because if she delayed any longer, Caleb might start to suspect something and send his followers to hunt for her.

But if Amelia was going to start turning things around, she realized she couldn't wait a week to start setting up Caleb's downfall.

A brilliant idea that helped kick Other Amelia out of her thoughts before she could get going again saw her tear off a piece of her discarded tape and grab a sharpie from Luz's bag. As Luna put her mask back on, she could only watch in confusion as Amelia quickly scribbled something into the tape, and while it wasn't as neat and elegant as her handwriting usually was, it was legible for something quick, and that was the important part. As soon as she finished, she tossed the sharpie back into Luz's bag before standing up and taking her hand.

“Thank you, mi amor, for still believing in me when no one else will,” Amelia sadly smiled. “Never lose hope, my light... I swear to you, on my life, that I'll come back to you, and I'll make it up to both you and the Frosts for how tonight went.”

With a kiss to her masked cheek, Amelia took her leave, and as much as Luz wanted to stop her, she knew that right now the safest play was to let her return to The Empire, as much as she really didn't want to. As she looked down at her hand, however, she saw that Amelia had left her with the scrap of wrist tape, and she couldn't suppress her gasp at the two words written on it that explained so much and made it clear who especially needed to see them: Castle Blythe.

It hurt Amelia to have to leave Luz behind again, but this time she was leaving with a newfound sense of determination. It may not be the sturdiest, but she just needed it to last a few more weeks until, hopefully, the man she was approaching now out in the parking lot would no longer be a plague haunting their lives in the name of his self-righteous crusade.

“You took your sweet time,” Caleb accused her as his masked Empire goons moved to make sure she'd be herded into the white van waiting to take them out of Portland.

“The trainer insisted on checking me out after what happened in that match,” Amelia lied, the annoyed tone helping to confirm her proverbial mask was back in place.

“...very well,” Caleb let the matter go as he motioned for her to get into the vehicle. “But we will be discussing this rather notable failure in your match tonight once we're back at our castle.”

Amelia wanted to take a swing, considering it was her family's castle and Caleb had simply hijacked it for his own purposes, but she knew she had to let it go. If her faith in Luz, and the growing faith in herself, was strong enough, it wouldn't be too much longer until this nightmare was finally over.

At least... she hoped that would be the case, that there was still a bright future waiting for her.

[Wisteria Waltz]

By this point, we've come to expect many things when it comes to the person we're here to see. Maybe we're expecting some professional setup to drive home the point that we're here to see the SCW World Champion, the face of the company. Maybe we expected something elegant, almost royal, something that reminds us that this woman came from money and is finally flaunting it as if to prove she's exactly where she belongs. Perhaps we even expected some sort of shot of the city of Brooklyn, to show off where Breakdown will be taking place this week with Rise to Greatness just over the horizon. Maybe we at least expected to see a woman who was poised, focused, a champion in every sense of the word just by looking at her.

We find none of that.

Instead, we find ourselves in what looks like a rundown locker room, perhaps in some old, abandoned gym somewhere. Lockers are bent and rusted, the lights are dim and flickering, plenty of old gym clothes and water bottles litter the floor after being forgotten or abandoned by whoever owned them. For lack of a better term, this place is a real dump. Maybe one could make the argument that the person we're here to see is simply returning to their roots... except we know by now that her upbringing dictates far fancier, state-of-the-art personal home gyms and all the tragedy and harshness that came with the family legacy she was always supposed to follow. We can try to wrap our heads around why we're here all we want, but it doesn't change the fact that we're witnessing Amelia Nevado, the SCW World Champion, sitting on an old bench in this disaster of a gym. The title itself is sitting on the bench beside her, but she doesn't dare reach out to touch it. Her head is down, her hair out of its usual ponytail and resting on her shoulders, and in the brief flicker of lighting at just the right angle, we can almost make out what look like tear tracks trailing down her cheeks that haven't dried yet. Her head subtly turns, as if to acknowledge our presence without looking at us, and she lets out a shaky, shuddering breath.

“Selena was right...

Last week, I called for a match because I wanted to prove something. The more I think back on everything that led up to it, the harder it is for me to even figure out what I was trying to prove. Was I trying to get some sort of edge over Deanna heading into Rise to Greatness? Was I trying to shut Selena up after she has spent the past year putting me down? I... I honestly don't even know anymore. All I know is that I look in the mirror, and I recognize the face staring back me... it's my own face, but wearing an arrogant smirk and proclaiming that she's the greatest wrestler God ever put on this Earth because it's what she genuinely believes... what she's supposed to believe... what she was told growing up by the mother and father she was supposed to succeed. Her name was Amelia Blythe, destined to become the heir to the Blythe legacy, the evolution of the greatest wrestling family to ever live... at least, according to what she was was forced to believe.

Two years ago now, I shed the Blythe name and was welcomed into my wife's family, and maybe I was foolish to believe that would be the nail in the coffin, that Amelia Blythe and all the expectations that burdened that name were finally dead. I thought I was finally free to embrace a brighter future, decide my own path and walk towards the dawn ready to become someone in this business that future generations could look up to with pride and admiration. Instead, all I've done is given a fresh coat of paint to the fractured little doll that was told she only ever had one purpose, and in the process, I've tainted the last name my wife was born under, the last name that gave her father the courage to become the Angelic Spirit he proudly portrayed between those ropes.

Maybe I should have listened to Selena a little more, even if she could have explained herself a little better. My brain just isn't hardwired to hear 'you can't do it, you're not ready' and similar phrases and not become more determined than ever to defy them, because those very phrases defined my childhood. While others like Chris Dumont, like Luz, like Glory Braddock can all say they come from wrestling families just like me, the wrestler they succeeded trained them in a way that was tough but fair. They were given positive reinforcement whenever they did something right, they weren't berated and treated like idiots whenever they failed or did something wrong, and their workouts and training sessions certainly weren't a thinly veiled excuse to be abused by the parent who was supposed to be guiding them. That was my path into the wrestling business, and those were the words that molded me.

Every success wasn't good enough, I should have done it faster or made zero mistakes.

Every failure was rewarded with being choked into unconsciousness by my father's signature hold, the Blight Choke. If not that, then it was bruises, scars, broken bones I was meant to hide because under the gaze of others beyond our family, I was supposed to look perfect.

Nothing I did was ever good enough... I was told I wasn't ready to be the Blythe I was raised to be, I was told that I couldn't be one of the best to ever grace the squared circle, I was told time and time again that I was a failure... it was my parents' way of trying to motivate me, believing that if they kept moving the goalposts so they'd always be unobtainable, then they could keep physically, mentally, emotionally breaking me until I became their vision of the perfect wrestler. It's why I took such offense when Selena made those claims, it's why I worked myself to the bone to keep improving only for each new setback to knock my brain back to those days where I suffered needlessly just to be something I never even wanted to be, but had no say in the matter.

I want to be clear... that is an explanation for how we got to this point, but it is not an excuse for any of the mistakes I've made throughout this year.

And yes, they are mistakes... mistakes that shattered the rose-tinted glasses I've been trying to wear for the past few months. Mistakes that cost me a title I should have proudly held alongside my wife... a title I never even truly got to actually hold before I lost it due to my own unwarranted hubris. I failed Luz miserably last week... I failed Deanna, I failed Selena, I failed all of SCW. All I had to do was tag Luz in, let her be the fresh competitor who could handle Selena, and instead I had to prove her wrong and paid the price for it.

Selena... if you're watching this... thank you. Thank you for helping to knock some sense into me in the most brutal way it could've happened... but keep your own words in mind for yourself, and keep those titles safe with Deanna, because I swear to you, on my life, that I owe you both a proper follow-up to that classic we had years ago... and Luz and I will find our way back to you to earn those titles back the right way.

Just like this week, I stop letting myself fall and finally reach out to climb my way out of this abyss I've let myself be consumed by. This week, I finally start proving that Amelia Nevado does deserve to be a proper World Champion who's truly earned it, who can be that World Champion who inspires others to chase her and want to prove themselves against her, title or no.

A wrestler who can give Chris Dumont the match he deserves.”

Amelia slowly looks up now, and while she certainly looks like a miserable wreck, there's a flicker of the embers that have defined Amelia throughout her career. It's not the look we've come to expect lately, laced with prideful arrogance pretending to be confidence. For the first time in far too long, it's a look of genuine confidence, of someone who's willing to learn from the mistakes they've made and truly do whatever they need to in order to become better, both as a wrestler and as a person. Someone who wants to keep getting better and keep climbing that mountain.

“Chris, I truly apologize that we couldn't have the match you asked for. Believe me when I say that I insisted we needed to have it, but Delatosso initially refused to allow this match to happen at all. He didn't want me to get hurt, he wanted me to focus entirely on Rise to Greatness... the thing is, though, I've never been wired that way, and last week made it all the more clear that I need this match more than ever. If I go into Rise to Greatness injured by your hands... then I just find a way to push through and rise above the damage, because that's what a true wrestler does, that's what a champion should do! If I'm going to stand here and be the face of SCW, then I need to be ready and willing to prove it anytime, anywhere.

I told you when I accepted your challenge that I'd be willing to face you before or after the show if Delatosso refused, Chris, and I meant it... I think he knew he wasn't going to be able to talk me out of this match regardless of whether or not it was televised, so he compromised hoping that just facing you would be enough to settle the matter.

My offer's still on the table, though. If we can't do your match with the cameras rolling... then I'm not afraid to wrestle for a second time when they stop to give you a match under Pure Wrestling Rules if you're game, because that's what those fans deserve to see... the kind of match we deserve to have.

I'm not going to sit here and put you down Chris... I've shared that ring with you far too many times by this point, both as your opponent and as an ally, to want to put on that proverbial mask and act like someone I never wanted to be in the first place. I'm tired of feeling like I need to act like a Blythe just to survive in the snake pit I've thrown myself into because I genuinely thought it was necessary, I'm tired of pretending that I wasn't taken advantage of and molded back into something I've spent my whole life trying to escape because someone with power saw a broken woman and felt that under their 'guidance' they could print money. I am psychologically scarred, Chris... my mind has been infected by years of torture and abuse and gaslighting to the point where I'm starting to understand that maybe it'll never go away. Maybe I'll always be at risk of letting myself consider this path in the face of setbacks because 'not being good enough' is what defined the first 19 years of my entire existence, even when it wasn't true, because it was all I was ever allowed to know if I wanted to earn the respect, the admiration, the love of parents who only ever saw me as an investment and an extension of what they had already built.

I mean it when I say you have what it takes to be a World Champion, Chris, and even though this match isn't about the title, I know that won't stop you from eventually wanting to come for it... and that's how it should be. It's how Luz and I defined our first three reigns as World Tag Team Champions, wanting to not only prove we could keep improving to stay atop the mountain, but wanting everyone else to keep improving to maybe one day dethrone us, wanting them to fall in love with the chase and know that even if they weren't good enough to take the titles from us, their time may not be too far off if they just keep working. It's the kind of World Champion I've wanted to be... but I now realize that no matter how much I try to prove it in that ring, the perception is tainted by the path I chose to get here, and I may never be the kind of champion I truly want to be as long as I keep pretending to be the crown jewel of the New Order.

Chris, I know you have what it takes to help me find my way again, and that's why I knew I had to accept your challenge, no matter what. You're right, this isn't about the World Title or who's truly better between us... this is a matter of honor. I know you'll hold nothing back in wanting to face the real Amelia, the Amelia you proved yourself against two years ago inside the Chamber when you refused to back down from a numbers disadvantage and insisted that Luz and I not hold back just because we were trying to be fair. The Amelia you proudly stood beside against the Fall of Man and believed in even when everyone kept saying we were all in over our heads week after week. You deserve to face that Amelia in Brooklyn come Breakdown, Chris... SCW deserves to have that Amelia back. Luz deserves to have that Amelia back, as do Deanna, Selena, and anybody else in that locker room who once genuinely looked up to me. I deserve the chance to believe that I can be that Amelia again.

That is what I'm coming to Breakdown to prove... to you, and especially to myself, that I don't need to be Selena Frost 2.0 to be a champion standing on my own two feet. I was always good enough, I just needed to stop pushing myself so hard and acting like a losing streak meant anything. I know you've been there Chris, losing match after match and feeling that doubt creep in, but you always bounced back and walked into your next match better than before, more determined to turn things around. No wrestler is perfect, nobody is unbeatable... please, Chris, pick up where the Frosts left off last week and help me remember why I chose to stick with wrestling when I had no reason to after finally unshackling myself from my parents and the Blythe legacy. Help me remember what it means to wrestle, not just to hold gold or be successful, but because you genuinely love getting in that ring and testing yourself week in and week out. Help me prove that despite my mistakes, despite the decisions I've made, that I can still make the right choices and put myself back on the right path.”

Amelia takes a moment to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks as she slowly stands up and turns to fully face us, almost looking more and more like her genuine self again. Almost as if in response to this, we notice something peculiar. The lights, which have been dim and flickering in this old gym this entire time, suddenly seem to stop flickering. If anything, the lights actually seem to grow brighter, as if the life is slowly returning to this space. Amelia smiles a bit, genuinely, at this miracle before her eyes slowly turn to glance down at the World Title still sitting on the bench. After a moment, she shakes her head, knowing that this isn't about the title, and leaving it be to focus on us again.

“I'm grateful that you understand Chris, that you're willing to give me a chance to do what has always defined both Luz and myself and that's prove through wrestling the truth that my words often fail to convey, and I thank you for challenging me so I can prove that while I may have lost my way, I can still fight to regain my honor and prove to you and everyone else that I can learn and grow and still do this the right way, the way this is meant to be done.

All of that said, Chris... please be careful about making promises you might not be able to keep.

I know you can beat me in that ring, Chris. You almost did during that six-person tag match before everything went off the rails, just as you almost did inside the Chamber years ago. But that's why I not only need this win more than you believe, but I need to do it the right way. No tricks, no help I never needed in the first place, nothing but my own skills that have always been good enough and continue to improve each and every day, just as they should. This isn't about trying to regain momentum before the biggest match of my career... Lord knows Luz and I have gone into Rise to Greatness before with no momentum and still proved we could live up to that pay-per-view name.

No... while you may think you have nothing to gain or lose Chris, I know that this match is make or break for me. How I wrestle this match will speak volumes about whether or not I can not only be the World Champion, but the wrestler I should be, that I should've been all along. If I cannot defeat you the right way Chris, then maybe there is no hope for me... and I refuse to accept that. If I'm going to show the world that Amelia Nevado is still here, that she's finally fighting to pull herself out of the darkness, then I not only need to earn this win, but I need to earn my honor back as well. I need to earn the right to shake your hand after that final bell rings and hear you welcome me back from the brink.

For that reason... I'm still humbly asking La Pequeña Luz to be at ringside, not just to help me stay on track, but to help make sure we have the match we're supposed to have Chris.

I'm also, as my last act as the 'queen bitch' I let myself become, ordering that no one in the New Order show their faces at ringside. Delatosso... consider this my 24 hours notice if you wish, but if you refuse to let me wrestle this match on my own and prove that I'm capable of winning this match the way it's supposed to be done, then that proves what I think I've known all along: that all your claims of believing in me and telling me I could be the face of this company were a lie meant to pick up where my parents left off. Defy this request, and maybe I cement my departure from the New Order a little more forcefully.

I'm done letting myself be a puppet and being pulled away from everything I have scratched, and clawed, and fought to become. Maybe I'll never be able to shed Amelia Blythe for good... but that doesn't mean I have to let myself be defined by every single time I've been broken and reforged to be what someone else believed I needed to be. I'm not afraid of walking into the biggest match of my career at less than 100%... if anything, I welcome that challenge as another step forward to proving that I'm back on the right path, that I'm doing this my way, the honorable way, and that I can pick myself back up and keep moving forward until Amelia Nevado is exactly the kind of wrestler she should be again... the kind of wrestler and champion that SCW deserves.

I'll see you at the Barclays Center, Chris... I wish you the best of luck, and I want you to bring me hell, because only by overcoming that the way I know I can, the way I should've been doing this all along, will I truly know that Amelia Nevado isn't dead yet... and maybe, just maybe, can still rise from the ashes like a phoenix ready to make up for all her mistakes and be the person I should've been all along.”

Amelia nods to us, a genuine confidence growing within her that has been sorely missed for far too long and maybe, just maybe, gives us hope that she might not be as lost as we thought, that maybe she can truly come back to us and Breakdown will be the beginning of that. With a smile that shows how relieved she is to not have to act like the cold-hearted bitch she was raised to be anymore, even if it was just a survival tactic, she takes her leave. We slowly move to focus on the World Title belt she's left laying on the bench before we fade out, realizing that she isn't disrespecting it by leaving it behind... but acknowledging that this match will be a big step towards proving she truly does deserve to hold it.