Selena Frost vs. Ryan Lecavalier

[SnowQueenSCW]

OOC: Takes place following Deanna’s first roleplay.

Scars of a Fascade

”The Place We Promised”

Eyrie Tower
Manhattan, New York
August 3rd, 2026
4:31pm

The call ended with the press of Selena Frost’s thumb against the screen. For several seconds, she simply stared at the phone.

No second call immediately followed – or a message or desperate demand asking what she had meant. That wouldn’t last. She knew Deanna too well...

She’s coming...

The thought should have frightened her. Instead, Selena slipped the phone into her pocket and rose from the couch, crossing the castle suite without turning on another light, passing furniture that had remained almost exactly where she remembered it. The room had been preserved during her absences - immaculate, untouched and utterly incapable of feeling lived in - a museum dedicated to someone who had stopped existing.

Her footsteps slowed as she reached the balcony doors. One year ago, she had crossed through them believing she would never return. As she opened one, she felt the warm August air sweep over her.

The city stretched beneath the balcony in every direction. Cars crawled through the streets below, too distant to distinguish from one another. People moved between buildings, carrying groceries, answering phones, going home from work - living ordinary lives without knowing Selena Frost stood above them again.

She stepped outside but both feet remained behind the railing, her hands resting lightly upon the stone.

“You called her.” Selena didn’t turn, nor answer right away.

O. D. stood several feet behind her again, this time near the balcony doors, studying the city with his hands folded behind his back.

“Yes.” Selena answered.
“And told her where you were.”
“Yes.”
“That’s different.”
Selena’s sapphire eyes narrowed slightly. “From what?”
O. gave her a sideways glance. “Do not insult either of us.”

A quiet breath escaped Selena’s nose. Last year, she had hidden what she intended to do:

She had written letters.
Made preparations.
Waited for sunrise and accepted oblivion that would follow.

Deanna had only found her because Deanna Frost possessed the infuriating inability to stop searching and seeing the good in her and everything...

Today? Today, Selena had answered the phone and told the redhead exactly where to find her.

“I suppose it is.” she admitted. She heard O. stepp closer to the railing, though he never touched it.

“Do you know why?”
“Because I’m tired of running.” Selena answered.
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It isn’t.”
“It sounds like something you have told yourself in twelve countries.”

Selena glared at him. O. remained entirely unimpressed.

“Fine.” Selena looked back over the city. “Because last year I made the decision for her.”
“Explain.” came the simple order.

“I decided she would be better without me.” Selena sighed. “I decided the children would be better without me. I decided SCW would be better without me.” Her jaw tightened. “I decided my death was some... noble sacrifice everyone else was simply too emotional to understand.”

“And now?”
“Now I know that was arrogant.”
O. raised an eyebrow. “Only now?”
“Do you want me to throw you off this balcony?”
“You would injure your shoulder.”

Despite herself, Selena almost smiled... Almost.

The expression disappeared when her eyes returned to the streets. “Deanna told me something last week.” Selena spoke quietly. “She said some things matter more than SCW.”

“Controversial.”
“I told her that mentality could cost her against Amelia.”
“Could it?”
“Yes.” The answer came immediately. Then she sighed again. “But I think I deliberately misunderstood her.”

O. waited for the platinum-blonde to continue.

“She wasn’t saying the World Championship doesn’t matter. She wasn’t saying preparation doesn’t matter. She wasn’t saying she would throw the match away for me.” Selena’s fingers curled slightly against the stone. “She was telling me that I don’t get to decide what she values.”

O.’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Selena hated when that happened. It meant she was getting somewhere.

“I keep doing that.” she continued. “Every time she chooses me, I turn it into something I stole from her. The title opportunity. The tag-team championships. Her time.” Selena’s jaw tightened. “Her love...”

O. tilted his head as Selena finally closed her eyes. The word hurt more than expected.

“She offers something freely...” Selena continued, “and I immediately calculate what it costs her. Then I decide the only moral thing is to give it back.”

“That does sound very noble.” the old man drawled knowingly.
“Go to hell.”
“I suspect you have already assigned me a seat.”

Selena shook her head, but O.’s point remained. ‘Punishment disguised as integrity’. The words from the plane had followed her all the way back here.

“I thought if I removed myself from enough of her life, eventually there would be nothing left for me to damage.”

“And how has that worked?”
“It hasn’t.”
“Good. Progress.”

Selena finally turned towards her former boss. “Do you actually understand what I’m doing here?”

O. regarded her carefully. “That is what I came to determine.”
The answer irritated her more than it should have. “Well?”
“You returned to the place where your agreement began.”
“Yes.”
“The year is finished.”
“Yes.”
“Deanna promised that if nothing changed, she would stand here with you again... And let you go.” O. finished.

Selena swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.” she whispered.

O.’s gaze sharpened. “So when she arrives, are you going to demand that she honour it?”
There was no hesitation. “No.”
“Are you asking her to stop you?”
“No.”
“Are you hoping she will rescue you?”
Selena’s eyes dropped. “No.”
“Then why are you standing on this balcony?”

The chain around Selena’s neck shifted beneath her shirt as she breathed. Her own wedding ring rested against her chest. She could feel its familiar weight. For years, she had carried reminders of everything she had lost. Perhaps that had been the problem...

Selena lifted her gaze. “Because this is where I asked her to prove something impossible.”

O. said nothing.

“I told her forgiveness wasn’t possible. Redemption wasn’t possible. That once someone crossed enough lines, they couldn’t return.” She gave a bitter smile. “Then I spent an entire year making every mistake imaginable so I could point at them and say I was right.”

“And were you?”

Selena looked toward the open balcony doors....

Soon, Deanna would come through them. Probably terrified. Probably angry. Probably prepared to fight Selena over a promise neither woman should ever have made.

“I don’t know.” O. frowned at that and Selena shook her head. “No. That isn’t true.” She took a long breath. “I know I was wrong about one thing.”

“Which is?”

“That I get to decide the answer alone.”

O. stared at her for several seconds...Then he nodded.

It was somehow more meaningful than praise.

“And what do you want?” he asked with a knowing tilt of his head.

Selena’s hand drifted toward her pocket before she stopped herself. She could feel the shape waiting there without touching it. “I know.”

“Then say it.” ordered the SCW founder.
“No.” Selena answered firmly, watching the old man’s eyebrow rise. “That answer isn’t for you.”

A faint smile appeared beneath O.’s beard. “Good.” was all he replied with.

Selena turned back toward the city. Clouds moved across the sky, slowly swallowing patches of blue. Eventually Selena breathed, “You can go.”

“Can I?”
“I think I need to do the rest without you.”
“That sounds dangerously healthy.”
“Don’t ruin the moment.”

O. gave a quiet chuckle as Selena lowered her head. “Thank you.” she whispered. No answer came. She simply breathed deeply once more, waiting another second before turning around...

O. was gone.
The balcony behind her was empty.
The doors remained open exactly as they had been.
No footsteps retreating through the suite.
No sound of movement.
Nothing.

Only Selena.

For several seconds, she stared at the place where he had been standing. Then her eyes closed, a strange, almost exhausted smile crossing her lips.

“Of course...” she whispered. The wind moved softly through her platinum-blonde hair.

Selena turned back to the city before her, her hand slipping into her pocket. Fingers closed around the small object waiting inside - cold metal warmed slowly against her palm. From somewhere inside the suite came the distant mechanical hum of the elevator rising through Eyrie Tower.

Selena’s heart began pounding as she tightened her grip.

Here we go...

_______________________________________________________________

The Royal Letter

The camera opens somewhere beneath Ford Field in Detroit, Michigan, the site of this year’s Rise to Greatness, yes, but...

Not inside the arena.
Not in the ring.
Not beneath the lights.
Not anywhere the thousands of fans attending Rise to Greatness will see.

Instead, thick black cables snake across concrete floors, and production cases line the walls. Pieces of staging, lighting rigs and equipment wait to be moved into place while members of the crew work somewhere deeper inside the loading area. Even this late in the evening, the work is a bustle as the staff move to complete preparations for the massive pay-per-view!

The camera, however, finds someone not moving, merely leaning against one of the road cases and taking it all in. To the surprise of many – including the audience – that person is Selena Frost. But not the Blue-Eyed Devil...

In her black jeans, maroon t-shirt, black leather jacket, and with her platinum-blonde hair pulled into the familiar braid that hangs over one shoulder... She doesn’t even look like ‘The Snow Queen’ that the SCW Universe has known the past few years.

There is no gown or elaborate pantsuit. No championship. No throne... To all observers, it’s just...Selena.

Glancing toward the distant sound of construction, the young woman gives a faint smirk.

Do you know what the strangest thing about this Rise to Greatness is? She pushes herself away from the case. For the first time in what feels like forever... none of this ends with me.

Her eyes drift toward the direction of the stadium. Five years. Five main-events. Championships. Wars. Legends. People telling me that SCW lived or died depending on whether Selena Frost won whatever ridiculous battle she had gotten herself into that year... Not this time...

Not this time...

A breath escapes her as she processes that reality. And I thought not having that would bother me. her smirk returns. Turns out? It’s kind of fucking liberating.

Rolling her shoulders a bit, Selena starts walking between the production cases.

Because tomorrow night, before I have to worry about Amelia... before I have to worry about Deanna... before somebody apparently decides putting me in the middle of the Rise to Greatness main-event is a remotely sensible idea...

She stops, her head turning directly to the camera following her. I get Ryan LeCavalier. A small laugh escapes her.

I may not know the maggots in Frank’s head where my place in the main-event is concerned. But Ryan? You I understand.

Skipping over a set of thick cables on the ground to avoid tripping, Selena turns back around to face the camera. Fatal Fortunes. Two years ago. I’m sure you remember that. I do too, believe it or not. I remember because somehow you drew me in an Ironwoman match.

Slowly, her expression changes slightly. I had years on you in experience. More big matches. More championships. More experience managing a clock like that. And I used every bit of it. She nods in her recollecting. I got ahead early. Not surprising...

But then you surprised me. she lets that admission sit.

It should have been easy. An easy win for someone at my level. But every time I thought I had finally created enough distance, you came back. Every time I thought experience had settled the matter, you found another gear to push it. You nearly caught me more than once!

A faint nod.

And it took awhile for my ego to settle, but eventually, I respected that. Her eyes narrow. But unfortunately, respect doesn’t quite fit how I feel now, Ryan. Because you know what pisses me off the most?

It’s the damn FACT that you didn’t need any of this!

She lets the statement sit amidst the background noise of general labour.

You stood across from Selena Frost in an Ironwoman match when you had a fraction of my experience and nearly erased the gap anyway! THAT should have been the beginning of Ryan LeCavalier.

Her expression hardens. Instead... you became obsessed with the loss.

The platinum-blonde slowly shakes her head. So you started attacking me from behind. Trying to get my attention. Trying to force the rematch – all the merry way till Taking Hold of the Flame of that year, didn’t you? Trying to do what so many people before you had already tried to do...

A sarcastic smile crosses her features. Use Selena Frost to make yourself important.

Not uncommon that time of the year. I’ve basically done it at this show the last four or five times... She shrugs. Not exactly revolutionary. And her arms drop to her sides.

But eventually, it looked like you were going to get what you wanted. Selena Frost against Ryan LeCavalier! No random draw. No accident. No excuses.

Pause.

But... That match never happened, did it? All those months of work and preparing and... nothing. Not a match on Breakdown or at the Taking Hold of the Flame – hell, I’d have settled on the pre-show since my main-show card was booked but... nope. Nadda.

Why? Because you disappeared. The smile disappears as well.

Burnout. Pressure. Fear. Personal reasons. Pick whichever explanation makes you sleep easiest at night. I stopped caring a long time ago. She steps past another case. Because the result was the same.

Turning her head, Selena looks directly into the lens. You wanted Selena Frost until standing across from Selena Frost stopped being an idea... and started becoming your reality. And that was just too much for “The Last Monarch” to handle, wasn’t it?

But then suddenly, years later, you come back! She rolls her eyes. But this time, you were supporting me. Another humorless laugh escapes her. Praising me. Defending me. Talking about how much you respect me and how great Selena Frost is!

She holds up a hand. And let me clear on that, Ryan. I never asked for any of it. I never needed it. And I certainly wasn’t stupid enough to believe a few compliments erased everything that came before.

The platinum-blonde tilts her head. But admiration was never the point, was it? Her voice grows colder. It was just a slower way of getting close enough to do what you wanted to do two years ago.

Beat me. Make your name.

Selena gives a dismissive shrug. Same plan. Better camouflage.

She continues deeper through the loading area. And after the royale, where I turned down Deanna’s offer, you finally dropped the disguise. Her jaw tightens.

You attacked me. Again. And again. And again. The sarcasm returns instantly. Apparently nostalgia is very fashionable this year... she rolls her eyes, the humour vanishing quickly.

Except this time, you weren’t satisfied with getting my attention. You wanted me injured. Hospitalized. Unable to stand at ringside when Deanna Frost faces Amelia Nevado. She stops walking at that last part. That was your mistake... she growls.

You want to make your career by beating me? Fine. Get in line. Her eyes sharpen. But when your obsession with me starts spilling into something somebody else spent an entire year earning?

The volume never rises – the tone just grows colder. You stop being irritating and you become my problem.

Selena pulls her leather jacket tighter around herself before glancing toward the stadium again.

Now normally, this is where I would start talking about legacy. She sighs theatrically. About championships. About being the Snow Queen. About how I’ve main-evented this show more times than most people will ever appear on it and how I’m levels above everyone else and no one can keep me down...

Her head tilts. But truthfully? I really don’t feel like it. A grin slowly forms back on her face. That’s the other thing I like about this year.

She steps closer to the camera. I don’t have to prove any of that tomorrow, do I Ryan?

For years, every Rise to Greatness match came attached to some damned existential question.

Am I still the best?
Can I carry SCW?
Can I defend the championship?
Can I survive another main-event?
Not this year.

The smile becomes almost playful. This year... all I get is you... Selena removes the leather jacket and tosses it over one of the nearby road cases. Which means that, for the first time in years, I get to have fun at Rise to Greatness...

For just a moment, there is something familiar in her expression. Something colder and older.

No throne. No kingdom. No World Championship that I have to convince myself will disappear forever if I lose one match.

Just a wrestling ring.
Just Ryan LeCavalier.

And then the smirk. And just Selena Frost reminding everyone exactly what she can do when somebody gives her a reason to cut loose and kick their damn head off!

She lets the statement breathe before her expression settles again. And after I’m finished with you?

One last glance towards the distant stadium. Then I will deal with the main-event.

Her voice becomes unreadable – the tone shifting quickly. Amelia Nevado... Deanna Frost. And whatever happens when that bell rings.

Selena looks back at the camera. So... What am I going to do after I knock Ryan back into the shadows she crawled out from? A faint smile. You’ll find out when they do.

I know what my responsibility is. Her eyes narrow. What that requires of me? She shrugs. Ask me after the bell rings.

Selena retrieves her jacket but doesn’t put it on yet.

But that’s later. She turns her attention fully back toward the camera. First... you, Ryan.

The smile disappears. Two years ago, Fatal Fortunes gave you Selena Frost by accident. And you nearly caught me. Her sapphire eyes become ice. Then you spent two years attacking me, running from me, praising me... and attacking me again because you couldn’t live with what happened when that clock expired.

Easily, Selena slips the leather jacket over one shoulder. Well, congratulations, Ryan. You finally got the rematch you’ve spent years trying to manufacture. Just do me one favour, Ryan.

She turns away, taking several steps before stopping. When you go from, ‘The Last Monarch’ to simply ‘The Latest Monarch Selena put down’?

She turns her head to glare back at the camera. Try not to disappear...

Otherwise... no one will believe you were really here to begin with, will they?

The camera cuts to black as Selena walks into the arena.