Hollywood vs. The Vision

[Braddock]

2 of 2
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July 20th, 2026
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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The café occupied a quiet corner a few blocks away from the busiest streets of downtown Miami, tucked beneath a row of mature palm trees whose fronds swayed gently in the warm coastal breeze. It was the sort of place that regulars discovered rather than tourists. The outdoor seating area was enclosed by waist high planters overflowing with bright tropical flowers and glossy green foliage, creating just enough separation from the sidewalk to make it feel intimate without ever becoming isolated. The late morning sun bathed everything in a soft golden light. The worst of the day’s heat had not yet settled over the city, leaving the air pleasantly warm rather than oppressive. Cars rolled past at a steady pace, their tires humming against the pavement. Every so often a city bus rumbled through the intersection, followed by the cheerful ring of a bicycle bell or the distant sound of laughter drifting from somewhere farther down the street. Small round tables dotted the café’s brick patio beneath wide cream colored umbrellas that provided welcome patches of shade. Ceramic cups clinked softly against saucers as servers moved between tables carrying coffee, pastries, and colorful brunch plates. Most of the patrons seemed completely absorbed in their own mornings. At one of the tables nearest the edge of the patio sat Fiona Osbourne. She had chosen a seat that gave her a clear view of both the sidewalk and the entrance to the café. Whether that decision had been conscious or instinctive was difficult to tell, but it reflected the quiet alertness she rarely managed to turn off completely.

Her long black hair rested loosely over her shoulders, stirred occasionally by the breeze. The sunlight highlighted subtle shades hidden within the dark strands, giving them a soft sheen whenever she shifted. She wore a charcoal gray fitted T shirt beneath an unbuttoned dark green overshirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to her forearms. Black jeans and well worn lace up boots completed the outfit, practical clothing that suited her far better than anything fashionable ever could. She looked every bit the tomboy she had always been, comfortable in clothes chosen for function rather than appearance. Yet there was nothing careless about her. Everything fit well, everything reflected her personality, and together it created a look that was unmistakably Fiona. An untouched iced coffee rested on the table in front of her. Condensation slowly collected on the glass before dripping onto a folded napkin beneath it. Every now and then she reached for the drink, only to stop halfway, her fingers hovering briefly before retreating again. Her nervousness revealed itself not through dramatic gestures but through small habits that would likely go unnoticed by anyone who did not know her. Her eyes drifted repeatedly toward the sidewalk. Her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. One boot tapped lightly against the brick patio for a few seconds before becoming still. She had spent days convincing herself that this meeting was necessary. Now that the moment had finally arrived, certainty had become considerably harder to maintain.

Around her, life continued exactly as it always had. Conversations rose and fell around neighboring tables. A server laughed at something said by a customer before disappearing back inside. Palm leaves rustled overhead. Somewhere nearby, music played softly from hidden outdoor speakers, almost disappearing beneath the sounds of the city. None of it reached Fiona completely. Her attention remained fixed on the sidewalk beyond the planters. Then she saw him. Todd Osbourne emerged from the flow of pedestrians without fanfare, walking at an unhurried pace toward the café. He looked much as she remembered him, although the passing years had settled more visibly across his face. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, touched only lightly by age. He possessed an average build, neither particularly athletic nor overweight, carrying himself with the ordinary appearance of a middle class man who blended easily into almost any crowd. He wore a light blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark khaki trousers, and practical brown shoes that had clearly seen regular use but remained well cared for. A simple wristwatch rested beneath one cuff. There was nothing flashy about him, nothing that drew attention. If someone had passed him on the street without context, they might have assumed he was heading to lunch after work or meeting an old acquaintance for coffee. As he drew closer, his eyes found Fiona almost immediately. For a brief moment, both of them simply looked at one another across the patio.

Fiona felt the familiar knot tighten in her stomach. Memories had a strange way of collapsing time. In one instant she was an adult sitting at a café in Miami. In the next she could almost feel herself slipping backward into emotions she had spent years learning how to control. She took a slow breath. Her shoulders straightened slightly, more from determination than comfort. Todd stepped onto the brick patio, weaving carefully between occupied tables. The closer he came, the quieter everything else seemed to become, even though the café itself remained just as lively as before. When he reached her table, he paused for a moment, offering a small, restrained nod before gently pulling out the empty chair opposite Fiona. The chair scraped softly across the brick as he lowered himself into it.

“Thank you, Fiona.” Todd says quietly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You…you look good.” Todd says. “And how is Melinda? I heard you two are back in Supreme Championship Wrestling?”

“Yeah, The Vision is back and better than ever.” Fiona snaps back quickly. “But we’re not here for small talk, Todd. I spent years trying to forget about you. Ever since Glory Braddock took me in, and ever since I made my big break in professional wrestling, I tried to put you in the rearview mirror.”

“I know.” Todd nods his head.

“Do you?” She asks. “Because you kept coming back. You tried to stick your damn nose back into my business, you tried to return to my life. It felt like you were stalking me, Todd. If that’s your way of trying to win me back then you were doing an awful job.”

“Yes, I know.” Todd sighs. “I was doing an awful job, just like I was doing a terrible as a father.”

“You were never my father.” She hisses. “I never had a father until I met Kurt Logan.”

“Yeah.” Todd nods his head. “He treats you well, much better than I did. I was wrong, Fiona. I was wrong for trying to exploit your natural beauty by making you be a model. I was wrong to make money off of you. I was your agent not a father and I sincerely apologize.”

The Boston Badass stares deep into his eyes. She wants to hate him, she wants to tell him to go to hell. But deep inside his eyes she sees something unexpected; she sees regret and remorse. She senses that he is sincere. He truly is apologetic.

“My biological parents were drug abusers who abandoned me. Then you? You used me. I do have a father now and his name is Kurt Logan.” She sighs. “I can forgive you, Todd…but I can never ever forget.”

“I understand.” Todd stands up.

“Wait.” Fiona says quickly. Todd stops and looks over at her. “This isn’t goodbye.”

“It isn’t?”

“I am willing to see you again in the future. I’m even open to maybe renewing a relationship. But for now I just need you to keep your distance while I figure things out. Ok?”

“That’s…” he smiles. “...that’s fine.” And with that, Todd walks off, leaving Fiona alone.

Fiona remained seated long after Todd disappeared into the steady flow of pedestrians, her eyes lingering on the spot where he had last been visible. The café slowly returned to normal around her. The sounds she had barely noticed during the conversation gradually found their way back into her awareness. She let out a slow breath she had not realized she had been holding, her shoulders sinking slightly as the emotional weight of the meeting finally began to settle over her. A familiar figure stepped through the café gate a few moments later.

Melinda Braddock crossed the brick patio with the same effortless composure she seemed to carry everywhere she went. Her long blonde hair rested in soft, carefully styled waves over her shoulders, catching the late morning sunlight with every step. She was dressed elegantly without appearing overdressed for the setting, wearing a sleeveless ivory blouse tucked neatly into a light blue knee length skirt that moved gently with the coastal breeze. Nude colored sandals completed the outfit, while a small cream handbag rested comfortably over one shoulder. Delicate gold earrings and a matching bracelet added subtle touches of refinement that complemented rather than overshadowed her naturally graceful appearance.

There was nothing hurried about the way she approached. Her posture remained straight, her expression calm, almost serene, yet there was unmistakable concern in her blue eyes as they settled on Fiona. She had deliberately given her adoptive sister the privacy to face Todd alone, honoring Fiona’s wish to confront the past on her own terms. Even so, she had never been far away. Anyone paying close attention might have noticed that she arrived almost too quickly for someone coming from elsewhere, evidence that she had remained nearby the entire time, close enough to step in if Fiona had needed her, but wise enough to stay out of sight until the conversation had reached its end.

“So, did everything go well?”

“It went as well as can be expected.” Fiona answers.

“I had a hard time reading him as he left.” Melinda states. “Did he get the answer he had hoped for?”

“I didn’t close the door on a possible reconciliation.” Fiona retorts. “So yeah, I guess he got what he wanted.” She sighs. “Does that make me weak for forgiving him so quickly?”

“No.” Melinda shakes her head. “Sometimes forgiveness is the strongest thing someone can do. I forgave my biological father for running out on me and mom. I forgave Clyde. Both instances turned out well.”

“Yeah…” Fiona sighs “...hopefully this will turn out good.”

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On Camera
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The scene is set against a simple, solid neutral studio backdrop; a clean, seamless light gray wall illuminated by soft, diffused studio lighting that keeps the focus entirely on the striking aesthetic contrast between the two women standing side by side; The Third Generation Goddess and The Boston Badass. On the left, Melinda Braddock stands in a confident, polished pose wearing a vibrant, monochrome hot-pink tailored outfit. She wears an oversized, structured blazer in vivid magenta draped casually over her shoulders like a cape, paired with a matching square-neck crop top and high-waisted, front-pleated trousers with ankle-length cuffed hems. Her hands rest casually in her pockets, showing off metallic gold ankle-strap heels, straight shoulder-length blonde hair parted to the side, and a bold red lip. Standing right beside her with an edgy presence, Fiona Logan poses tilted slightly inward in an all-black attire centered around a high-shine vinyl corset crop top with front hook-and-eye fastenings and a pointed hem. She wears low-rise dark fitted pants secured with a glossy black belt and a decorative metal hip chain, complemented by layered silver chain necklaces with a cross pendant, silver rings, a belly button piercing, and dark polished nails. Peering over a pair of small, round, black-tinted sunglasses, her long, straight dark hair is styled with full straight-across bangs and subtle reddish highlights, creating a striking counterpoint to the bright, clean tailoring beside her.

“We were never gone. And if you thought we were, then you just do not know The Vision.” Melinda remarks. “Fate has brought us together, Fate brought us to this grand stage, and Fate will continue to guide us and lead us to the promised land. We allow Fate to guide our actions and Fate deemed it necessary to pick our spot. Fate dictated that we strike when the time was right. And now that we struck, every other tag team in SCW should be afraid.”

“Just ask Carsons.” Fiona smirks knowingly. “If you thought you were through with us you were dead wrong. Me and Mels are just getting started and to be honest, Fate or not, The Vision never backs down or backs away from a fight. We were waiting for the perfect opportunity to return. And the time is now and here we are. We will finish you off in due time but for now we’re gonna terrorize the tag team division and take what should have been ours from the beginning. We are going to take possession of the tag team division.” She points a finger at the camera. “And that brings us to Chris and Ryan Hollywood.”

“You two speak of trying something new.” Melinda chuckles and shakes her head. “You can try something new, you can change, you can adapt and evolve all you want, but you must eventually face the sad cold hard fact that Fate is just not in your favor. Evolution is a fact of life but so is Fate and Fate is against you, boys. How else do you explain your constant failures? How else do you explain the fact that in SCW you are looked at as a joke? Comic Relief.” She motions to herself and Fiona. “When The Vision returned, we made headlines. But you? Barely a ripple.”

“We could cripple the both of you and no one would even notice.” The Boston Badass snickers nastily. “No one expects much out of you. No one expects you to give The Vision much of a fight. And let’s be honest, we’ve beaten you already. This is just going to be history revisited. It’s going to be like one of those reenactments. Or one of those movies based on a true story. That’s your thing right, Hollywood? Movies? This match on Breakdown is based on a true story, a true story of how The Vision OWNS Hollywood.” Fiona grins. Melinda nods her head.

“Do not mistake this as disrespect. You certainly serve a purpose. But your purpose is to elevate your superiors. Your purpose is to make myself and Fiona look good. On Breakdown, we make our return, we reclaim our spot and remind the SCW tag team division what we are capable of. And you? My advice to you is do not fight Fate because you cannot win. Accept your place. Serve your purpose and maybe it will be easier for you?”

“Not likely.” Fiona shakes her head.

“Your Fate is sealed, boys.”