Gavin Taylor vs. Deanna Frost

[SnowQueenSCW]

The Real Thing

The camera opens on an empty wrestling ring inside a quiet area. There’s no arena, or audience, or fancy lights, or entrance music. This isn’t where an apocalypse will happen either. Rather, this is where limits are pushed. Not for cameras or celebrity status or even world championships, but to push yourself.

And in this training-ring, sitting upon the middle turnbuckle, is Deanna Frost. She wears black track pants, white sneakers, and a dark green t-shirt. The SCW World Championship rests across her thighs, its gold catching beneath the overhead lights as the redhead stares down at it. What stands out just as much as the gold of the championship, however, is the tape wrapping around her arm, the white a stark contrast to the dark green of her shirt. Deanna’s emerald-green eyes stay on the championship, her fingers slowly tracing across the faceplate. For several seconds, she simply studies it before taking a deep breath.

So... she breathes. Where do we start?

Lifting her head, she looks toward the camera. How about this? Carefully, she lifts and tilts the championship towards the camera. It's real.

A small smile crosses her features. I know... profound opening, right? A chuckle escapes her. But I've been thinking about that a lot lately.

Carefully, the redhead lifts the World Championship slightly. It’s real. And taps the centre plate. Not a replica. Another tap. Not a retired championship. Another tap. Not borrowed from somebody else. Her smile becomes a little more knowing. Not something from another company that I decided looked pretty enough to carry around SCW because I wanted everyone looking at me to think I was a champion.

She pauses for a moment before lifting her gaze back to the camera. You remember that, don't you, Gavin? Her emerald eyes remain on the lens. Because I do.

I wasn't wrestling much back then. Mostly standing at ringside. Travelling with Selena. Watching. Learning. Trying to understand this crazy world I had somehow walked into.

Another small laugh. How little I knew back then... But every so often, Gavin Taylor would appear again. She raises a hand. New idea. And lifts one finger. New cause. She lifts another finger. New version of Gavin Taylor that everyone should just ‘believe without question’.

She lowers her hand. And I remember one of those times particularly well because Selena was fighting through a tournament for the United States Championship. The same championship you now talk about as though you personally breathed life into it – not by winning it and defending it, no! – but simply by caring about it. She shrugs.

But back to that time... because while Selena was fighting for titles and winning those titles, Gavin Taylor was walking around with championships too. She smiles faintly. Lots of them...

Replica championships.
Retired championships.
Championships from somewhere else.

Anything you could sling over your shoulder or around your waist and parade around proudly enough that maybe, if everybody squinted, they'd forget what you had wasn’t actually an SCW title... or you hadn't actually won the championship you were pretending to carry.

The smile disappears. And I don't bring that up because I think it's embarrassing. She shakes her head. Actually... I think it's sad.

She takes a moment to pause, letting her eyes go back to the world title. Because eventually, Gavin... you did it. She slides down from the turnbuckle and lands carefully, protecting the injured arm. You became World Champion.

For real.

The redhead raises the title and drapes it across her good shoulder. You defeated Syren. You reached the mountain you've spent years telling everybody you belonged on top of. Nobody can take that away from you. I won't even try. Slowly, she steps toward the centre of the ring. You were the SCW World Champion.

So here's the part I don't understand... She gives a tilt of her head. Why are you still acting like one?

Silence fills the empty space.

Why does Gavin Taylor still need to tell everybody how important Gavin Taylor is? Deanna slowly begins pacing within the ring. Why do you need to explain how you made everybody care about the World Championship?

Or how you made everybody care about the United States Championship?
Or how the awards should've been yours?
Or how SCW somehow became more important because Gavin Taylor walked into it?

She stops. You became champion. Wasn't that enough? She lets the question hang.

Not forever. Nothing lasts forever. But for one moment... wasn't actually doing it enough? Her fingers adjust the championship. Because listening to you, Gavin, sometimes I don't think becoming World Champion actually changed anything where you are concerned.

Before you won it, you needed everyone to believe Gavin Taylor was a champion. Her eyes return to the camera. And after you won it, you need everybody to believe Gavin Taylor was the greatest champion of all time.

And after you lost it? The redhead shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders. Well... obviously somebody must have done something to Gavin Taylor, right?

She resumes walking. Somebody interfered. Somebody conspired. Somebody denied you the rematch you deserved. Somebody didn't support you properly. Somebody didn't recognize you. The world champion stops again. But whenever something goes right?

A sad, small laugh escapes the young champion. Gavin Taylor did it himself. Her expression isn't mocking. If anything, it looks genuinely curious. Do you hear that contradiction? Because I'm not even sure you do.

When you succeed, you did it alone.
When you fail, somebody else did it to you.

Deanna pauses, shaking her head. You even did it again at your rally! Chris Dumont doesn't show up in Australia, so apparently you retain the World Championship. Then you beat the Glimmer Sisters. Then you beat me at Rise to Greatness.

She raises an eyebrow. Gavin... two of those matches never even happened, and somehow you've already won all three! One thing goes wrong and you can rewrite everything after it until Gavin Taylor never really loses anything.

That... she exhales a breath. That sounds exhausting. Her gaze briefly drops toward the canvas. And I know a little something about exhausting.

Her expression changes again – no longer playful in the slightest. Instead, she raises her taped arm slightly. Here. She moves the arm only enough for the camera to see the extent of the wrapping.

You want to know what condition the SCW World Champion is in heading into Apocalypse? She shrugs. Fine. She takes a deep breath, as if bracing herself.

I'm tired. A beat. My arm hurts. Another beat. My body hurts. Her voice remains steady. I've barely stopped moving since Rise to Greatness.

I've gone from city to city, country to country, company to company, carrying this championship because Frank Delatosso apparently decided Deanna Frost needed to be ‘the travelling World Champion’ twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week! She glances toward her injured arm.

And then there was Club Ga-BLAM... Her jaw tightens. Your club. Her expression is direct and serious. Your people.

I'm not going to stand here and tell everybody I know exactly what order was given in what room and by what person... I don't know. Her eyes narrow. I don't need to invent facts because they make me feel better. Her free hand tightens into a fist. But what happened wasn't random. She lifts the taped arm again. And this is real too.

So congratulations, Gavin. Her expression hardens. At Apocalypse, you don't get a perfect World Champion.

You get ‘Tired Deanna’.
‘Hurt Deanna’.
She pauses for a second. ‘Scared Deanna’.

Yeah. She lets the word settle. Scared. The admission comes without any shame. Because this is my first SCW World Championship defence.

And I've thought about what happens if I lose... She laughs softly. A lot. I've wondered what people will say:

Amelia had an off night.
Deanna got lucky at Rise to Greatness.
She was good enough to have one incredible night but not good enough to actually carry the World Championship.

And because you've been so fond of this one lately... She tilts her head. Maybe they'll say the B-player Frost finally got exposed.

Her expression tightens. Or maybe they'll say I “married into being a wrestler.” That I only matter because Selena Frost happened to love me.

Deanna nods. And you know what? Selena is why I entered this world. I didn't grow up planning to become a wrestler. I fell in love with one. I travelled with her, stood at ringside, watched and learned until I discovered something here that I wanted for myself.

She taps her chest. But I married Selena Frost. I didn't marry Taking Hold of the Flame. Selena didn't win the Shot of Adrenaline for me. She didn't pin Amelia Blythe for me. Selena opened the door... I decided how far I walked through it.

A faint smile. So no, Gavin. I didn't surpass my potential.

Her eyes sharpen. I surpassed your imagination of me. You looked at Selena Frost's wife and decided where her ceiling was. I never agreed to it.

And you know what scared me the most, Gavin? Deanna steps closer to the camera. Not that you might say it. She takes another step. Not that Frank might say it. And a third. Not that somebody online might say it. She stops where she is. I was afraid I might believe it...

There is no movement or words for several seconds.

That's the truth...

And maybe that's something you don't understand about me. I don't need to pretend I'm fearless. She leans her good arm across the top rope. I spent too much of my life being afraid to waste energy lying about it now. Her gaze sharpens.

I was terrified after Veil.
I was terrified coming back.
I was terrified of fighting in the SoA tournament.
I was terrified of fighting in the Flame royale.
I was terrified standing across from Amelia.
I'm scared now.

For a second, Deanna does nothing. Then, she suddenly shrugs. So what?

Fear isn't the same thing as surrender. She pushes herself away from the ropes. Being scared doesn't make this championship less real. Being hurt doesn't make me less real...

And losing someday won't suddenly make everything I did to get here fake.

Deanna sighs and shakes her head knowingly. That took me longer to understand than I care to admit. She looks down at the championship. Because I almost made the same mistake somebody I love spent years making. Her expression softens for only a moment.

Collecting victories like evidence.
Another defence to prove the last one mattered.
Another accomplishment to prove I belonged.
Another person beaten so nobody could possibly question me anymore.

She shakes her head. It doesn't work. People question you anyway.

Some of them make entire careers out of it.

Her attention returns fully to the camera. So let me make this beyond clear, ‘Mr. All-Star’. I'm not fighting you at Apocalypse to prove I deserve to be World Champion... I already did that!

The championship comes off her shoulder, Deanna wincing for just a fraction before adjusting with her good arm.

I'm fighting you because I am the World Champion. And you're the man trying to take this from me... That's enough.

The world champion walks back toward the centre of the ring.

And that's why your whole A-player, B-player thing doesn't bother me quite the way you probably hoped it would. She rolls her eyes. Oh, don't get me wrong. It's annoying. She smiles a little. You're annoying... She shrugs. Congratulations.

Then her expression becomes serious. But I spent years fighting to become something other than ‘Selena Frost's wife’.

Something other than Selena Frost's manager.
Something other than the woman standing beside Selena Frost.
And eventually I learned something.

There doesn't need to be an A-Frost and a B-Frost.

She shakes her head. There doesn't need to be a better Frost. There doesn't need to be a real Frost. Her smile returns. Selena is Selena. I'm me. And I'm pretty comfortable with the comparison now because I don't need to win it.

She laughs, more so to herself. Imagine that!

Thirteen years of people comparing us and eventually somebody finally figured out the competition didn't exist in the first place! She points toward herself.

I'm not trying to become Selena Frost.
I'm not trying to become Amelia Blythe.
I'm not trying to become whatever Gavin Taylor thinks a World Champion is supposed to look like or whatever Gavin Taylor thinks SCW needs.

I'm Deanna.

The sentence hangs quietly.

And maybe that's what bothers me most when I look at you. She frowns. Because after all these years, Gavin... I'm still not sure you've ever allowed yourself to just be Gavin. She begins pacing once more. I've watched you come and go from SCW more times than I could probably count. And every time, it seems like there's something new:

A notion.
An idea.
A movement.
A title you weren't really holding.
A title you were holding.
A political campaign.
A cause.

A collection of people telling you Gavin Taylor is the most important man in the room.

Deanna stops. And when one version only gets you so far... eventually Gavin leaves.

Her expression softens.

That happens. People leave.
People fall apart.
People need second chances.

A small, knowing smile forms. Trust me, the Frost family would be pretty hypocritical if I pretended otherwise. Then it fades.

But sooner or later, Gavin, reinvention has to become growth. Her eyes narrow. Otherwise it's just another costume.

Deanna looks around the plain training area. Which is why your rally made me laugh a little. The fireworks. The banners. Vex News. The applause signs. An entire building telling Gavin Taylor how incredible Gavin Taylor is...

She looks back at the camera. And then you walked up to the camera and called all of it “raw” and “real.” She gives a small shrug. Maybe we just have different definitions of real. And taps the title. Because this is real. She lifts her taped arm. This is real. Then points at herself. And this is real.

And that's why I keep coming back to this question: why can't Gavin Taylor just try to be a good champion? She shrugs.

Not the champion who saved SCW.
Not the champion who made everybody care.
Not the champion who deserved an award because nobody else could possibly understand his importance.
Not the champion that can do an easy impression.
Not the champion that loves alliteration when giving names.
Just... a good champion.

Is that really so terrifying?

Deanna lets out a breath. Because yeah... it is for me. She shrugs. Being Deanna without all the extra stuff? Her fingers brush the championship. Without needing this to tell me who I am? She looks back at the camera. Terrifying.

I'd still rather do that than spend every day wondering whether somebody is about to expose the person I'm pretending to be. Her gaze sharpens.

But you did say something recently that I actually agree with. She raises an eyebrow. Don't get used to that. She resumes her pacing.

You said there isn't a great World Champion who doesn't have the support of the people who matter to them. Deanna nods. You're right.

She looks briefly out of the ring – the camera following her gaze out of a window, where the Frost ‘Forever Home’ can be seen down and through a forest path.

Selena matters to me.
My children matter to me.
The people who stood beside me when I couldn't stand properly myself matter to me.

Deanna turns away from the view and back towards the camera. But here's the difference. Her expression hardens. They don't exist to tell me I'm great.

They don't exist to tell me I'm always right.
They don't exist to convince me every loss was somebody else's fault.
They're the people willing to look me in the eyes and tell me when I'm wrong.

A small smile and a laugh escape her serious expression. Believe me... Selena has developed quite the talent for it.

Her smile warms for only a second. And I've gotten pretty good at returning the favour. Then the edge returns. Support isn't somebody building a world where Gavin Taylor can never be wrong... Support is somebody standing beside you when you are.

And sometimes support is somebody refusing to let you lie to yourself.

She shakes her head. So no, Gavin, I didn't do all of this alone. I'm not ashamed of that anymore. I had people help me. I had people teach me. I had people pull me out of places I couldn't escape myself. She raises her taped arm. And right now, I have people helping me because I'm hurt. The arm lowers. None of that makes me less of a champion.

It makes me honest. Deanna takes another step toward the camera. And that's what you'll have to beat at Apocalypse:

Not perfect Deanna.
Not fearless Deanna.
Not Selena's Deanna.
Not ‘Dumb’ Deanna.

Not Frank's travelling attraction.
Not your B-player Frost.
Deanna Frost... SCW World Champion.

Her emerald eyes remain visible as she holds up the championship.

Hurt.
Tired.
Scared. She smiles. Still here.

And you know something, Gavin? The smile slowly sharpens. For all the talk about who should've won awards...

Who made SCW matter...
Who saved championships...
Who deserves credit...
Who conspired against you...

Deanna shakes her head. At Apocalypse, none of that can wrestle for you. She points toward the canvas. Frank can't wrestle for you. Your people can't wrestle for you. Your slogans can't wrestle for you. Your insults can’t wrestle for you. Your old championship reigns can't wrestle for you.

Her finger moves toward the lens. You have to.

And that's what I want. Deanna nods. Not because I underestimate you. Because I don't.

You are dangerous. And if I walk into Apocalypse pretending otherwise, then I deserve what happens to me. She adjusts the title. But I want the real Gavin Taylor.

No replicas.
No costumes.
No Secret Service.
No excuses waiting for Monday morning.

Just Gavin. She points at the camera, then back at herself. And Deanna. She holds up the title a little once more. And this.

Maybe you're better than me that night. She shrugs. Maybe you take this.

I'm not going to stand here and pretend that's impossible just because champions apparently aren't supposed to admit it. Her smile sharpens again. But you're going to have to do it yourself.

You're going to have to beat the woman who survived Veil.
The woman who rebuilt herself.
The woman who won the Shot of Adrenaline.
The woman who won Taking Hold of the Flame.
The woman who beat Amelia Blythe at Rise to Greatness.

The woman who walked into other companies carrying SCW on her shoulder and kept coming home with this championship, while you surrounded yourself with your Secret Service and Frank’s people telling you how important Gavin Taylor is. To make sure you never had to question what you believed...

You’re going to have to fight me, Gavin... even if I'm afraid. A quiet laugh comes from Deanna. Because I've learned something about scared Deanna.

Her emerald eyes glare. She's still pretty damn hard to keep down.

So bring the All-Star.
Bring the Man of the Year.
Bring the Last Great American.
Bring the former World Champion.
Bring every version of Gavin Taylor you've ever needed everybody to believe in.

She shakes her head. Because I'm done trying to prove I'm anything other than Deanna Frost.

She stops and looks back over her shoulder. The World Championship gleams beneath the lights.

Because right now? Pause. Deanna Frost is the SCW World Champion.

Her smile widens. And there isn’t anyone I’ve met yet that is going to stop me from being it when Apocalypse is all said and done!

She offers one more hard look at her opponent. If you want the real thing, Gavin... come take it!

But let’s see what your name for me will be... when you can’t!

Checkmate, bitches!

The shot holds on the champion for several seconds before fading to black.