Polly Pingotti vs. Deanna Frost

[supremecw]

Polly Pingotti vs. Deanna Frost
SCW United States Championship
Last Woman Standing

Retribution 2024

2 RP Limit
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET SUNDAY, March 3, 2024

[Jay Gold]

Season 4 / Episode 32 / The Final Stand (Part 1 - Jailbreaker)

[SnowQueenSCW]

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction and not to be confused as complete or accurate representation of any beliefs, religions, etc. Please refer to research/articles by experts for that.

The Witches of Alden

”Star”

The Edison Ballroom
New York, New York
February 24th, 2024
8:14pm

It all felt so different to her now, even though nothing had really changed as far as her memory could recall. She had stood in this same massive ballroom eleven months ago, standing alongside her wife, and felt the same as the Snow Queen had – intimidated by the sheer crystal chandeliers, the elegant dresses and suits, the music (haunting, classic Victorian) and surrounded by so many strangers she didn’t know. Part of her, even now, could instantly recall a sliver (like a distant memory) of those emotions of discomfort and unbelonging.

And yet, it was only a whisper.

Because, despite every contrasting thought and fact in her head, Deanna just couldn’t feel that way. No, now? The room seemed a little brighter than it had almost a year ago – at least to her. The music was far more pleasant to her ears, music she could dance to! And the people? Those strangers? She could put names to some of them!

Sophie.
Jack.
Abigail.
Hans.
Julian.

And so many more! People she had come to know, at least in acquaintance and others a bit more! The whole place seemed less “hoity-toity” than it had back then and more… a ‘special occasion’.

And it’s for me… she felt a slight blush creep into her cheeks and in her chest as she worked her hands together nervously. Well, in truth, It wasn’t all just for her – she could not imagine anyone being so important that such a massive ball/party could be put on for that one person’s sake.

Maybe Selena… she rolled her eyes at the thought, not wanting to imagine her wife being the center of attention like that. At least as she currently was as The Blue-Eyed Devil…

She quickly shook her head to dispel the lingering thoughts of her absent partner. She was absent for a reason. Because she hadn’t made the cut…

That’s what Deanna had meant in her reminder that this whole thing was not just for her. Rather, as she had nearly a year before, she was in the midst of an Alden party  - a celebration. This time, however, it was one of achievement and accomplishment rather than of punishment for her extended family. Tonight, the most powerful of the Alden charter were recognizing the highest-ranked students in their schools… and Deanna had been at the top.

She bit her lower lip at that consistent thought in her mind. For nearly a year, she had worked and worked, in-between being a wrestler in SCW and trying to assist her wife through the hurdles of world championship-reign and leaving SCW, to stand at the top of the grades. At first, it had simply been logic. Her mother-in-law, Alejandra, and Alden-family had owed the charter for a past ‘misdeed’ (the redhead refused to see it as anything more serious than that) and an agreement had been made where she and Selena would graduate as witches and ‘erase the debt’. It had been silly, but if it could prevent another “Killjoy” or “Scythe” or “Frostmere” war, than Deanna was happy to comply. But as time now, she had stopped trying out of ‘obligation’ and simply worked hard because she found the notion of the Alden history and family fascinating. It was an escape from her growing problems with Selena and her shortcoming with SCW. It was a chance for her to excel at something that was more and more hers and less and less Selena’s as the Snow Queen, as the year passed, saw it more as a chore.

And now… here she was. Her. Not Selena. Her. Being rewarded for her hard work.

She would be lying if it there wasn’t a sense of pride in her at the thought. Yes, she was the United States Champion and, for some time, she had had that in SCW – something to stand for on her own terms. But when Selena had come back and, effortlessly, succeeded where the redhead had failed in capturing the world championship from Asher Hayes, well… it felt like she had taken several steps back in her quest to be seen as her own woman in the eyes of the SCW Universe.

Now, it didn’t matter as much that she had held the second-top-tier title for over seven months. It didn’t matter that she had survived not one, but TWO, chamber matches in order to keep it. All people had wanted to talk about was Selena. All people wanted to compare the redhead to was to the platinum-blonde. Even CHBK, though she was less insulted by that given his kind regard.

It was just… this was hers. She had earned it. That was why she hadn’t invited Selena. That was why she was standing here alone, amidst some familiar faces, and why this whole party seemed far more beautiful than it had last time.

She had already been here a few hours and had, already, danced with some friends, her feet a little sore from it, and had a filling plate or two of appetizers and sweets. So, along with the positive emotions she felt, she had a nearly full stomach - Won’t say no to a few more of those chocolates… – she thought, a guilty smile whispering across her face as she moved around the large ballroom, weaving in and out of the way of people as she strolled around the space, giving quiet replies of a head nod/smile or a few, kind words to anyone that spoke to her as she passed. They were usually words of ‘congratulations’ on her achievement, but some were ‘stumper-questions’ like what would she do now with her obligation to the Aldens wrapping up.

That was the one question that kept coming up to her as she worked the room. Mostly because… she wasn’t too sure. With SCW? It was easy. She was going to defend her United States Championship against Polly at Retribution in a Last Woman Standing match. That was… it was simple to the redhead. For some time now, Polly had been discrediting Deanna’s continued wins over her, using words like ‘distraction’ and others to provoke the redhead. And with their last match ending in controversial fashion due to a missed rope-break, their matchup at the pay-per-view was the next logical step. Because Deanna didn’t want there to be any ‘controversy’ or ‘doubt’. She needed to continue to move forward from her loss at End of the Year – her ‘Icarus moment’. And though part of her wished to see how she could do with an even playing field – like Polly desired – she was not going to use that as a crutch. No. She needed to focus on proving herself at still being at the top of the roster and being a contender for any and every division, as well as a top champion with the title she held.

That was why she had concocted the notion of a Last Woman Standing match. You couldn’t really muck that up in terms of what it stood for – at least Deanna didn’t think she, herself, could. Polly kept saying she was ‘tougher’. Deanna believed her ‘grit’ made her the hardest working and toughest person in SCW. Something had to give. Someone had to be proven right and someone had to be proven wrong and there was no way she wanted another botch in the officiating.

Maybe I could ask Aaron like Selena did- NO! She quickly dispelled the notion with a shake of her head. She was NOT going to be anything like Selena! There were other great officials like Hollinsworth, Cassidy and Constantine. Any one of them could do the job and do it well! One mistake did not make it fair to ‘judge’ anyone! And she refused to behave like her wife had in regards to who wore the stripes in her match.

Her upcoming match didn’t need to be complicated like that! Not when it deserved to be simple. Two women wanting to prove they were the best and the toughest – done! Last woman standing would be proven right! It was simple and Deanna was excited for it! That was her future. Proving her worth, doing and enduring all she could to retain the championship she loved holding and having a hell of a match with a great challenger like Polly!

And if I lose… She tried desperately to remove the thought before it festered, but it was harder this time around. There was always that doubt with every challenge. That notion ever since End of the Year that she would just not have enough. That something would happen and she’d hit a wall or something. She had had in her last match with Polly, the doubt in the back of her mind that her knee would give out or Polly would catch her and then what?

But this? This was harder to simply acknowledge the existence of doubt and move past it. Because it wasn’t just the title she coveted on the line. It was her reputation and notion of her ‘grit’. If she couldn’t outlast Polly, then how could she backup everything she had said? How could she continue to say she could endure everything? A unforeseen ‘knee-collision’ and roll-up with tights being pulled? That could be explained away, but not being able to get up to a ten count? Not being tough enough or strong enough?

She felt the damper of ill-feelings rain inside her – precisely what she had been trying to avoid the moment she had walked into the ballroom. Refocusing her attention, she spied the table of drinks a few feet from her and immediately veered away from it, the sparkling champagne an automatic ‘no-no’ to the young woman. However, in her ‘veering’, she had failed to really watch where she was going, and was stunned when she felt the sturdy ‘wall’ she walked into… except it wasn’t a wall as much as it was a suited torso.

“Ooofff…oh my.” Came the good-natured voice, which was immediately muffled out by Deanna’s stammering.

“Oh gods…I’m so sorry!” she blurted out in a rush. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I- crowded and-“

The laugh, quiet amongst the crowd and music but still loud enough for Deanna to her, cut through her clumsy apology, for she recognized it instantly, her emerald eyes shooting up to see the grinning face of the older gentleman, his perfect smile showing the ‘right amount of teeth’ (was that such a thing?) for a ‘dashing grin’.

“Going my way, my dear?” the man offered in his usual charm, causing the redhead to, unintentionally, relax at his teasing.

“Not even remotely.” She replied back with a sigh and a half-smile.
“A pity.” He remarked with a shrug, his good-humor never faltering. “We would be lovely together.”

“You know you can’t compare to a queen, Raphael.” Deanna answered back playfully.

“Depends on who you ask.” He smiled back before the pair realizing that, in the man’s haste to, instinctively, prevent whoever had walked into him from falling to the ground, he had yet to remove his arms from Deanna’s shoulders in holding her up – the pair righted themselves to proper standing positions, Deanna awkwardly adjusting her dress while hoping no one, including Raphael, got the wrong idea, as she nervously looked around. Last thing she wanted was rumors circulating back to Selena…

“Sorry…” she offered again. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Think nothing of it.” The older man offered mannerly. “In my youth, there was many a time that I was distracted by the beauties of such parties.”

“It is a lovely ballroom.” Deanna nodded, casting her eyes as far as her view could offer. “I am…last time I was here, I couldn’t really appreciate it. I’m glad I can now.”

“I wasn’t talking about the ballroom…” he whispered, the teasing in his tone regaining Deanna’s attention, the man even winking at her as her gaze met his.

“You were quite the Casanova?” Deanna asked with a raised eyebrow.
“What do you mean ‘were’?” he replied back with a half-smile.
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“My reputation precedes me. And yet…” it was Raphael’s turn to look away from the redhead, casting his own view across the ballroom. “You seem to have some admirers of your own.”

It was then that Deanna followed the man’s gaze, her eyes sweeping over the dozens of people, some dancing, some eating, some talking, some playing their instruments… and some eyeing her with…

She shivered as she spied some of the women, dressed in gowns much like hers, some with more frills and laces, some more elegant, some more sequined, some less in all of those categories, but a few of them… she recognized their looks. One biting her lip, one turning away as soon as Deanna’s emerald eyes spotted her, another far more confident in staring.

These were looks of ‘desire’. She knew them well enough because… because… because she had used those looks not to long ago on her wife.

With a sigh, Deanna shook her head – more to them than to herself. “They are wasting their time.” She whispered before turning her attention back to Raphael, causing the gentlemen to clear his throat.

“I did not mean to offend or insinuate anything.” He tried, earning a shake of Deanna’s head.
“No, it’s me. I should be flattered but…” she shook her head. “I can’t be. They are all so lovely and…” she sighed. “I just can’t be anything but a one-woman woman.” She cast a distant glance back at the crowd. “Not when I’m hopelessly devoted to that one-woman.”

“Even now?”

The question caught Deanna’s attention, causing her to turn her head back to Raphael. “What do you mean?”

“Merely…” he seemed to try and choose his words carefully, rolling his shoulders back a little. “Merely that, here you are-“ his eyes moved up and down the shorter woman’s form, taking in the gorgeous dark-green and embroidered dress, the bare shoulders and the waterfall of red hair, even the emerald-gem-inlaid hair pin that held some of her hair to the side. It wasn’t objectifying or lustful like the women Deanna had just seen, but rather a ‘study’ he was making of her as he continued to speak. “Dressed and – if you will permit me – utterly enchanting…”

“I’ll allow it.” Deanna replied simply, passing the statement off without giving it much thought.

“For an engagement that honors you more than the other students. Yet, you chose not to bring the ‘one-woman’ you spoke of.”

She should have known he was going to go there, if only out of concern for the woman he had come to befriend in her studies of the Alden ways. In answer, she gave a sigh, looking away for a moment.

“It’s…” she tried to choose her words carefully. “It’s complicated right now. It’s a rough patch in the road. That’s all. We’ll…” she breathed. “We’ll work through it.”

“I did not mean to insinuate otherwise.” Raphael offered. “I just meant that it must be hard.”

It was! It friggin’ was and Deanna hated it! Everything else was so easy. SCW, her studies, even the lingering, unanswered question of ‘what now’ in respects to her place in the world of the Aldens – it was STILL so much simpler of a problem than her marriage currently was!

She was all but separated from the one-woman she adored more than anything and anyone! For all intents and purposes, one could assume that they were divorced or something, though nothing could be further from the truth. And yet, no solution presented itself. Selena refused to consider one. And it wasn’t like Deanna hadn’t tried! She had offered to find a marriage counselor, take classes, have discussions, talk about work/SCW-related stuff like Selena’s ‘plan’ (whatever it was) or the redhead’s matches, anything to get the platinum-blonde to open up more… to take a step towards patching things up and getting them back to where they were as a married couple.

It had all been met with refusals, the world champion turning down every idea. She didn’t want to ‘change’ how things were or whatever. At least not now. There was ‘too much to do’ or whatever excuse the older woman had used. In SCW, in her life, all of it – that’s all Selena would say, though the redhead was sure this ‘revenge tour’ of hers, as Adam Sharper had put it, was the primary focus…

More than me…

Because if she could have her Selena… then she would have invited the woman. Without hesitation! She had stood proudly when Selena had first won the world champion, standing at the barricade with their newborn son, David, over seven years ago. She had supported the platinum-blonde through every accolade and setback. But ‘her’ Selena would never show up here. Because she wasn’t sure…she wasn’t sure…

“Deanna?”

Raphael’s voice cut through her musings and yearnings, bringing her back to the present to see that the salt-and-pepper-haired man had, seemingly, not moved from his spot. And yet… her eyes travelled down to see the two champagne flutes in his hand, the glasses filled with the sparkling drink she had just avoided.

“Ah, no thank you.” She held up her hand on instinct. “I don’t drink.”
“Oh…” Raphael seemed confused by her statement, tilting his perfectly combed hair and trimmed beard to the side. “I did not know…” he looked away for a moment.

“What is it?” Deanna asked, a mixture of concern and surprise.
“It’s just…” he tried before seemingly making a choice within himself. “I pride myself on knowing as much about everyone as I can. Comes with the business and life I live.”

“O…okay.” Deanna raised an eyebrow, still not seeing the man’s point. Knowledge was power and all that, she got that. Hell, she could relate to that. She refused to face anyone without, at least, some study into their wrestling style. It was why she was grateful to face Marie Jones last Breakdown, her match allowing her an opponent of a similar style and determination as her PPV opponent. But what did this have to do with her not drinking alcohol?

“And, I must admit, in my earlier time dealing with you and your wife, I did my research.” Raphael shook his head. “But I don’t recall reading anything on alcohol issues. Past drug issues, yes-“ Deanna looked away at that offhand remark, not wishing to recall her past addiction with NX, not even wanting to see the damned painkiller for the rest of her life.

“And now…” the gentleman continued. “I feel foolish for being so inconsiderate.”

“It’s not foolish.” Deanna sighed. “I don’t… I don’t really have an alcohol issue.” She realized as she looked up at the taller man. “I just… Selena does.”

“That I knew.”

“And so… as part of our marriage, I took it upon myself to avoid having it anywhere near her.” It was something she hadn’t really realized till she spoke it. The fact that she hadn’t really had much alcohol since she had discovered her wife was a recovering alcoholic. Does she still consider herself that? she quickly thought without provocation. Or does she think she’s THAT infallible as ‘the Blue-Eyed Devil’?

Still, the train of thought persisted. How the redhead had given up drinking entirely for her wife without even thinking about it. She couldn’t even recall the last time she had had a drink!

Slowly, her emerald eyes eyed the flute Raphael was offering. “You gave up drinking any alcohol for her?” she heard him ask, earning a shrug of her shoulders for a response.

“It’s a marriage.” She replied. “You make sacrifices for what you want… and who you love.”

“Still…” he sighed. “I hate seeing you like this.” He gently pressed the glass into Deanna’s hands, the redhead taking it on reflex. “I won’t speak of any of this anymore, but I rather not see you upset on your special day, Deanna.” He offered kindly. “What if we just start the conversation over, have a drink, maybe a dance, and we refocus on what this day is about?” he added the last word with emphasis. “You.”

There was nothing ulterior in his tone, which surprised the redhead. He genuinely seemed to want to make today the best it could be for her, which was more than she could say about her wife. Still, as her head lowered, she stared into the sparkling beverage, as if she could find the answers to her thoughts within the bubbles.

It wasn’t that Selena hadn’t made sacrifices for their marriage. She had! Hell, she had taken care of their family for nearly two years while Deanna had suffered in prison under a false charge. She was responsible for giving Deanna a life that she could ever dream of. At best, the redhead thought glumly, if the platinum-blonde hadn’t found her and taken her in, she would have either joined her sister in working as a cop or stuffing bags in a grocery store or some other minimum wage job and, at worst, she would have been driven out of Kentucky and on her own.

She owed so much to Selena…

But, hadn’t she given just as much in return? She had done all she could for her wife’s career. And for her health and helping her past her addictions. She probably wouldn’t have even HAD any addiction-issues if she hadn’t been wrapped up in Selena’s! She had raised their children for more years than Selena had, often staying at home during their early years of marriage while Selena travelled the world with SCW. And, when she had finally started her own career as a wrestler, she had followed her wife’s instruction.

Again, though, without Selena, she wouldn’t have been a wrestler… but neither would she be fighting to get out of anyone’s shadow.

She wouldn’t have had kids… but neither would she have been raped and sent to prison due to Selena’s twisted and sick half-sister!

She wouldn’t have addictions… scars… heartbreak… if it wasn’t for Selena Frost. Despite all the other positive memories she had of her marriage to the Snow Queen, her mind seemed to focus on that thought. Even now, it was Selena’s fault that she wasn’t able to fully enjoy tonight. To bask in the feeling of accomplishment and hard work equalling reward, like her fight to the top of SCW and to the United States Championship had been.

That was another problem! So many people had hated her simply because she was married to Selena! And the fans, okay, that made sense! Association and all that. But for wrestlers to constantly declare up and down that she had ‘slept her way to success’ or ‘used her married name to get success’! What more did she have to do to prove otherwise? Polly, herself, had been obsessed with using excuses for losing to Deanna in the past matches like the Elimination Chamber. It couldn’t be because Deanna had been the better superstar. No! It had to be because ‘there were distractions’ and ‘it wasn’t one on one’…

She gave a sigh, trying to quiet the storm of emotions brewing within her. She loved the SCW Universe, even the fans that had booed her, seeing it as a challenge to change minds and hearts – to prove she was different than how she was perceived! And… she had made some wonderful progress. She had stayed true to herself and her beliefs and the fans seemed to like that. Seemed to like her putting on these big matches and accepting challenges and doing her best. They had even voted her as one of the EOTY title shot receivers. In a way, it was like her reputation with the Aldens, changing from being ‘one of the Frost-people’ to ‘It’s Deanna!’, allowing her to make some friends and have a good relationship with people like Raphael and Mrs. Winthrop… So, things were looking up.

But would that change if Selena continued on her way through SCW or with the Aldens? If Selena continued to be the most hated person in either place? As soon as the platinum-blonde had returned to SCW, Deanna had, once more, been assailed with questions, as if the United States Champion could explain her wife’s actions. It had been a setback, there was no way to deny that, no matter how Deanna had tried.

Yes, she had wanted Selena to return to SCW and ‘makes thing right’, but not like this! Not as this… she wasn’t even sure what Selena was anymore. It had been a setback to her own progress for sure, especially with Selena doing what she had failed to do in acquiring the world title from Asher Hayes.

Maybe that was the real reason I didn’t invite her… the ghost of the thought trailed through her mind, sending a shockwave through her core at the brazen truthfulness of it. She had learned her lesson of blindly trying to ‘get Selena involved’ after seeing the Blue-Eyed Devil emerge from the redhead’s loving actions. This…this was all she had left where she was… her. At least in the sense of not having to talk about her wife’s actions and focus on her own journey – though she still held hope that Retribution could be the return to that for her as she stayed away from the world title and from Selena.

“Deanna…”

Again, Raphael’s voice broke through her thoughts, only a minute having passed since his last words and his offer. Still, Deanna’s eyes didn’t deviate from the fizzling bubbles as they slowed their chemical reaction. Instead, she lifted the glass to her lips and let the drink slowly tickle into her mouth. It was sweet and creamy and the bubbles were sturdy in her mouth – maybe it was the wrong word but it was the only way she could describe them. She sipped a bit more and… felt fine! It was an ‘okay’ drink but she wasn’t craving it. Certainly had no desire to down a whole bottle of it. Might end up throwing up and then someone else will have to give my speech…

She couldn’t help the satisfaction that came to her as she placed the empty flute glass onto a nearby table, turning her head to smile at Raphael. “Good idea.” She remarked. “I need to clear my head.” She added, offering the man her small hand. Finishing his own drink with a bit of a gentlemanly flourish, Raphael placed his own empty drink next to Deanna’s before taking the young lady’s hand and guiding her the few steps needed to reach the ‘dance floor’. With a swift bow, he waited for Deanna to curtsy before taking her up in the proper stance like the other pairs dancing around them and began to move. Deanna, for her part, was grateful the man was using simple steps, allowing her to follow his direction with each step.

“Feel better?” he asked after a few turns and spins.

“A little.” Deanna smiled. “I definitely feel better about taking that drink. Been awhile since I even had one.”

“I’m sensing this is more of a ‘moral’ victory than actually drinking.”
“Yes, siree.” Deanna gave a tight-lipped grin. “Bout all I can have these days.”

“That’s not true.” Raphael remarked with a tilt of his head.

“Feels like it.” Deanna shrugged, her eyes immediately scanning around the immense ballroom. “Except all of this, of course. Work is…” she gave a shrug. “Setbacks, you know?”

“More than you know.” Raphael nodded. “I didn’t get to my position by only having ‘good days’, you know?”

“What constitutes a ‘bad day’ for Raphael Alden?” Deanna teased, suddenly feeling very playful as she lifted an eyebrow. “A barista gets your coffee wrong? You wake up on the wrong size of your king-sized, feather-filled bed?”

Good-naturedly, Raphael gave a roll of his eyes. “First of all, my bed is Ruijssenaarisis.”
“I can’t even begin to try and pronounce that. I’m pretty sure you just cursed at me in another language.”

The older man laughed at that. “It’s new technology. A floating, metallic bed.”
“Floating?” Deanna laughed at the thought. “FOUR FEET above her covers!”
“What?”
“I…Ghostbusters, come on!” she laughed, though felt a little embarrassed when Raphael merely gave a title of his head. “Never mind.”
“It’s a magnetic, floating bed. Valued over a million.”
“Of course it is.” Deanna rolled her eyes. “But that sort of makes ‘rolling’ out of bed a life-or-death matter, doesn’t it?”

“Not really. It’s only a few feet above the ground.” Raphael eyes widened with a sudden idea. “If you like, I can get you one.”

“No, thank you.” Deanna shook her head. “I am happy with the bed I have.”
“I didn’t mean…” Raphael quickly remarked, earning a tired, but forgiving shake of the head and smile from Deanna.

It wasn’t his fault. Raphael was just… well, he was trying to be to kind to her, perhaps out of respect for the hard work she had put in in learning the ‘Alden-ways’, which wasn’t really her fight to begin with. But living in such luxury, where the mattress was worth over a million dollars? She couldn’t fathom it.

No, that was a lie. She could fathom it, and all it did was make her think of that damned Eyrie Tower where her partner was staying – the lap of luxury… fit for a queen… – standing in that penthouse and seeing all the high-class ‘things’… Was that Selena living it up as ‘The Blue-Eyed Devil’ or ‘The Snow Queen’ now that she was away from her family? Was it part of her ‘revenge tour’? To flaunt her power and position? The redhead didn’t want to consider the amount of money she had probably acquired in her negotiations for her return to SCW. If she had managed to get a world title match right out of the gate, gods knew what else Selena had taken in this path of hers.

Whatever it was, Deanna wanted no part of it. She loved her home. Loved her life. It was comfortable but not always easy – it kept her humble, kept her aware of her grit! And she refused to lose that for anything! To have what Raphael and Selena had? No… she would lose something of herself and she couldn’t – wouldn’t – imagine it.

Then I just would be a Selena-copy like Asher said…

The current song, played by the orchestra, finished, as did the dance, allowing Deanna to return to the present and smile at Raphael. “Thanks for the dance, Raph.”

“Raph?” the old man laughed. “I haven’t been called that since high-school.”
“How bout ‘Raphie?”
“No.”
“Buy-it Ralph?”
“No.”
“Veloca-Raph-tor?”
“Shouldn’t you prepare for your speech?”

He gave a forward jerk of his head, gesturing to something behind Deanna, causing the redhead to turn her head before, immediately, turning it back towards her dance-partner. Biting her lower lip, the redhead sulked back a little. “Spoilsport.” Turning back once more, the young woman spied the stage with the podium – the same one Raphael had used almost a year ago to lay the groundwork for her involvement with the Aldens.

“Guess I have should just…” she gestured towards the podium with her hand. “Get up there and get it done, right?”

Raphael merely gave a nod before excusing himself, moving off the dancefloor to quietly mingle with other members of the party, leaving the young woman alone with her thoughts. With a breath meant to steady her nerves, Deanna took a second to adjust her dress, smoothing out any ‘invisible creases’ before stepping one slippered foot in front of the other, her mind racing with the speech she had written and rehearsed almost as much as her promo for Retribution!

Honored guests…
Accomplishment…
Acceptance…
She kept running keywords through her mind and just under her breath as she walked past the groups of people, reached the foot of the stage and stepped up the stairs, making the last steps to the podium, thankfully… she thought, without tripping over her own two-feet/dress. Standing at the podium, she let her hands shake as the grasped the fine wood of the structure, comforted that no one could see said hands behind the wood. She remained silent for a few moments as her eyes scanned the crowd of attendees, all dressed and well-to-do… and she was one of them.

Her eyes quickly found, and met two people.

First, was Alejandra VahHohenheim, dressed in a sparkling black dress that paired well with her dark skin and white hair. She had accompanied her daughter-in-law with a bright smile on her face, the same smile she shared with Deanna as their eyes met. The second person the redhead found was Raphael, who, upon seeing Deanna’s gaze on him, held up a hand towards the orchestra. The band, immediately, wrapped up their tune with an improvised ending, catching the attention of everyone as the room was plunged into near silence.

She only had a moment, she knew, before the noise of talking would take over and, merely on adrenaline, she seized the moment, leaning into the microphone and clearing her throat with an ‘Ahem’…

No one noticed.

“Excuse me…” she tried, speaking up a little, but her voice wouldn’t carry through – or maybe the microphone wasn’t working! Some people were looking in her direction but not enough to have the room to talk. Some people kept eating at the tables, or talking at the bar, or talking to one another. It was like trying to get her kids’ attention when they were rapt in their T.V.s and…and…

Deanna’s eyes widened with a sudden idea and, before she could talk herself out of it, she had pulled her right hand to her lips, curling her fingers and blown with all her breath, creating a high-pitched whistle that echoed throughout the entire ballroom! Immediately, all eyes were on her, though she kept her eyes on Alejandra and Raphael, even only to see their different ‘shocked’ expressions at her choice of action.

I maybe be an Alden now… she thought with some satisfaction. But I’m still a Frost…

The focus on her, Deanna cleared her voice again, this time hearing the feedback from the microphone as it was turned on. “Hello.” She offered with a smile, earning silence for an answer, not rude but clearly waiting for more.

“Honored guests…” she began, offering a bright smile. “Fellow students…” she took a deep breath. “Today, we celebrate our graduation as the top of our respective classes. But…” she exhaled slowly, finding a smile forming across her face as she spoke from her heart.

“But it’s so much more than that. It is more than an accomplishment. It is more than simply ‘doing well’ or even ‘excelling’. Tonight is about overcoming. Every one of us were given a challenge. To learn and understand something – something, for some, was perhaps completely foreign and unknown. And yet, despite the huge challenge, everyone here rose to it and overcame it.” Her words were met with an applause, polite but growing, prompting her to continue. “For me… the challenge was more than just memorizing and regurgitating facts.”

“I came here, to be honest, out of an obligation and a past-“ her eyes flew to Alejandra, her gaze gentle. “That was not my own. With not the best of ‘impressions’ on my side, I attended class with some of you, merely wanting to pass and be done with that sense of ‘owing’. And yet… as time went on… I began to feel more. It stopped being a chore or a job or even an obligation. I started to get to know some of you. Your names, your hobbies, your likes and dislikes. I got to know some of the elders. I got to know my teacher, Mrs. Winthrop, and… slowly…”

The redhead bit her lower lip, nervously drumming her fingers against the podium center. “You all accepted me in return. You knew me as ‘Deanna’. And I… I wanted to know more of this amazing family known as the Aldens…”

Another applause broke out, earning a smile from the redheaded woman. “Until now, where I stand here and say to you that I am so…” she felt her breath hitch a little as the emotion threatened to choke her a little. “I am so proud to be the speaker for tonight. I am so proud of what I have learned, the people I have known, and the family that has welcomed me so warmly. And the thanks I feel-“

The words were never finished as the large doors to the ballroom were suddenly pushed wide open with a loud sound. Immediately, all eyes turned away from Deanna and her impassioned speech to see the disturbance…

And Deanna felt her heart stop and her blood run cold as she beheld the woman standing proudly before the mass of Aldens.

“Well…well…” Selena Frost grinned wickedly with a tilt of her head. “Better than late than never, am I right?”

[SnowQueenSCW]

OOC: Takes place immediately following Selena's first.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction and not to be confused as complete or accurate representation of any beliefs, religions, etc. Please refer to research/articles by experts for that.

The Witches of Alden

”Motherly”

The Edison Ballroom
New York, New York
February 24th, 2024
8:53pm

She could barely hear the noise coming from the ballroom as she sat in the stall, letting the sobs wrack her entire frame. It was nowhere near as pleasant as it was before – the sweet, orchestral music being replaced by yelling, hollering, screaming, and other rowdy noises. It was like the ball – a celebration of accomplishment – had been transformed into a damn frat party. And here she was, the woman that was meant to be the ‘Cinderella’… reduced back to rags and dirt… as if the clock had stuck midnight.

With a loud sniffle, Deanna rubbed her nose with the back of her hand as she sat on the closed toilet, her eyes taking in the patches of soil and dirt that covered her once gorgeous gown.

Why? her mind screamed for the umpteenth time, a question she knew she would never have a good answer to, and yet she kept asking it.

Why had Selena come here? Why couldn’t she have just let Deanna have this?

Part of her, what little wasn’t crushed emotionally by the results of the night, tried to rationalize things. Yes, Selena had shown up and ruined the party, but the reason Deanna was covered in dirt and sitting in the bathroom, hiding from everyone out of sheer embarrassment, had been her own doing. It had been the redhead that had charged at Selena in blind anger.

She let out a small gasp of a sob. What had she been thinking? Attacking Selena like that? The woman was a better wrestler than her! She had probably seen it coming before Deanna had even moved! Of course she would have evaded it!

But did she have to trip me? she mentally argued.
She could have punched you. Given you a black eye or a bloody nose or a busted lip.
Or she could have just stopped me! She didn’t have to shove me into the dirt!

Her mental war went back and forth with these shots as she sat there, trying to contemplate her next move in-between her bouts of crying and despising her wife for this.

Or did she despise herself?

There was something in her wife’s actions… the people she had brought to help crash the party. The people that had graduated, just like Deanna, but, like Selena, they had graduated with grades too low to be considered ‘the top of the class’ and, thus, had been excluded from the party.

Like you were back in Kentucky…

She tried to ignore the bitter feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling that marred an accomplishment she was so proud of. She recognized the feeling. She had felt it when her match with Polly had ended in controversy, both Deanna and the official missing the rope break Polly had made during the deciding pin. That feeling that came with the reality that her win over Polly was ‘less’. That it was tainted. That it wasn’t real.

She hated that feeling so much! Polly was a hell of a competitor! More than that, she was a hard worker, working out of the shadow of her past and associations of that past to remake herself and stand on her own, just like Deanna was trying to do, both inside and outside of the ring.

Gods, Deanna wanted to beat her clear. Wanted to be better than her. Not out of bitterness or some kind of ‘vendetta’ but because of how good Polly was! Deanna wanted to be that good. She wanted to be better than ‘that good’ – and take pride in such an accomplishment. And, for a moment, while she had been celebrating in the ring with her title after the match, she had felt that. Only to have it ripped out of her hands moments later when she realized the error in the officiating.

Just like this night – this accomplishment – was being ripped out of her hands.

Was it true? Had Selena been right? Had this whole thing just been an ‘elitist party’ rather than a celebration of the hardest working students? Was Deanna, instead of inspiring people with her struggle to the top of the class (her intention behind her speech), was she actually just further cementing the division between the perceived ‘top’ and those ‘unworthy’?

Her mind flitted back to the stories her wife had mentioned. People with mental-handicaps or real world problems like multiple jobs. Things that had made learning and making high grades next to impossible. Truthfully, the redhead admitted. If she didn’t have the free time she did with SCW’s schedule, allowing her to study and work on homework to and from event locations, as well as, outside of training and appearances, having several hours a day to work quietly wherever she was – if she had a forty-hour work week or more like some of those people Selena mentioned, on top of taking care of the kids… she wasn’t so sure she’d even be in consideration for the ‘top of the class’, let alone at it.

Did that make Selena right? Did that justify her actions?

The redhead shook her head angrily. No! There was a better way to go about it! She didn’t have to barge in and send the group in like a pack of hungry wolves. They could have protested, or come in and made their statements in a civil way.

What had been done was petty! Bitter! And while Selena would deny it, Deanna knew that there was a level of both in the platinum-blonde. She was jealous and bitter that she had been excluded where Deanna had been invited. Her motives for crashing the party may have been sound, but the ends did not justify the means and the redhead was clear-headed enough to know that!

She was both right and wrong… she reasoned. Just like me…

But… was that also, in part, her fault as well? She had kept Selena in the dark about the party, even partially lied in the beginning in an attempt to cover it up. Was that part of what hurt Selena? That her own wife had lied to her and hidden things from her?

Stop justifying her! her mind shot back, her eyes still taking in the ruined dress she wore. She did this to hurt you – knowingly – what kind of loving partner does that?!

That was true as well. Yes, she had lied and hide things from Selena, but what Selena had done? It was tantamount to if Deanna rolled into the ring seconds after Selena had regained the world title from Asher Hayes and nailed her with the Burnout!

Gods, that would be amazing…

Her whole body froze in terror at the thought. She couldn’t have thought that! It must have been a mistake. Desperately, no longer, in that second, caring about how she appeared, Deanna threw herself out of the stall, ripping the door open and tumbling out to brace herself against the cold, black marble of the sink-counter.

She hadn’t meant that! Hadn’t meant to think that thought or even consider it!

Had she?

Lifting her head, the United States champion saw her own reflection in the large mirror. The dirt had clearly gotten to other places than just her dress and hands. She could see splotches of it on her cheeks, making the trail her tears had made all the more prominent. She could see the dark soil in little specks within her red hair. She was even sure she could smell something from the soil. Nutrients? Water? She wasn’t sure but it was there.

Even so, she recognized her own features: her emerald green eyes and red hair. She recognized her own face and body. This was who she was… surely this wasn’t someone that had just considered the idea of hurting her own wife in a wrestling ring.

And yet… she had thought it. She had thought of hitting her wife with The Burnout. Of seeing ‘The Great Selena Frost’, Deanna had put it moments ago in the lobby, crumple down to the floor, paying for everything she had done.

And not just tonight. But for leaving Deanna. For abandoning her. For everything she had said and done since July. Further than that! For getting Deanna mixed up with the Scythes and the Frost/Frostmeres, for getting her mixed up with Killjoy and, thus, getting her locked in prison for nearly two years of her life!

“STOP!” she suddenly screamed, turning her face away from its own reflection. This is wrong! her mind screamed. I don’t want to be this way! she felt new tears, warm droplets of water, forming in her eyes again. I love her… I love her… She kept mentally repeating the line, desperately breathing deeply to try and stop the thoughts rampaging through her head.

How long she stayed there, breathing in and out in deep inhale/exhale, she wasn’t sure. Occasionally, she could hear the sounds of the party, or whatever was left of it, seeming growing more and more rambunctious as the two sides – invitees and crashers – collided. Still, as she felt her heart calm its beating, she found the strength to lift her head and gaze at her reflection in the mirror, able to see herself once more.

Now was not the time to be thinking thoughts she wanted no part of. She would deal with Selena later. Of that, she could, at least, admit. For now…

Quickly, Deanna grabbed the handles of the sink and pulled them up, grateful that they were levers and not sensors. With a steady stream of water available, she then used the soap dispenser to gather globs of the milky-white substance into her hands. That accomplished, she began scrubbing vigorously, watching the cleaner cover her hands. Her face was next and she did not hesitate to cover her face in a similar fashion. She switched between rinsing and reapplying the soap, watching the dirty soap and water mixture come off her slowly and drain into the sink. Paper towels were grabbed until the dispenser on the wall ran out, forcing her to switch over to wads of toilet paper to compensate as she wiped and dried her hands, arms and face.

Finally, she was able to step back and look at herself. Her face was clean, as was her arms. There was nothing she could do about the dress but-

“Deanna?!” she heard the almost frantic call coming from the outside of the bathroom, recognizing it immediately.

“In here.” She called out, surprised at how raspy her voice sounded – from all that crying, she reasoned. A second passed before she heard steps shuffling closer until Alejandra VanHoheheim, her mother-in-law, stood before her.

“Sweetheart, are you-“ she stopped midsentence as she took in Deanna, not really surprising the redhead with such a reaction. Even with the dirt off her face, arms and hair, she must have looked a sight. Her eyes were still bloodshot red from her crying and her dress was still dirtied all over.

“Wha-“ Alejandra tried, earning a sad shrug from Deanna.

“I…” she tried to explain. “Selena and I…”

“What did she do?!” the woman before Deanna was suddenly enraged, as if the very name had sparked an anger – or perhaps reignited it was the better term. “I never hit her as a kid, but boy, do I want to give her a beating right now for what she did!”

“No, mom!” Deanna held her hand out to try and calm the woman. “Please don’t go there. I just had a breakdown thinking the same thing, but me doing the beating. It’s…it’s not just her.” She sighed. “I got angry and tried to tackle her in the lobby. I didn’t look where I was going and when she tripped me, and I fell into a potted plant.”

Alejandra stood there for a moment, the older woman simply trying to process everything her daughter-in-law had just explained. “I’m sorry…” she heard Deanna remark. “I was just so angry…” the redhead felt the light hiccups filling her. “Mad that she would do this…like this…” she felt the slightest of sobs filling her once more, but she forced them down beyond the slight jerking of her body.

She was unprepared, however, to suddenly feel the warm arms wrap around her in an embrace. Immediately, she struggled a bit against it. “No, mom…” she tried. “I’m gonna make your dress dirty too.”

“I don’t care.” Stated the slightly taller Alejandra. “My daughter needs me.”
“Mom…” Deanna half-whined, half melted at such a kind statement. “You’re going to get me crying again.”

“It’s okay…” she whispered. “You can.”

To have that permission from a ‘parent’, even if it was just an in-law, it was enough for the dam to break once more, and Deanna found herself clutching onto Alejandra as the last sobs she had been harbouring came pouring out, the redhead crying into her the woman’s shoulder.

“Why?” she asked in a shaky, muffled voice. “Why did she do this? Does she hate me?”

She felt a hand petting the back of her head as she was held protectively.

“I don’t understand, mom.” She cried. “What did I do wrong? Am…Am…am…” the hiccups became stronger, choking her words out. “Am I not allowed to have something for myself? Am I not- not- not allowed to be proud of what I’ve done? She has to make everything I do seem so ugly?”

Alejandra didn’t answer. She knew better than to. These weren’t questions that were meant to be answered, simply released into the world.

“I…” Deanna heard Alejandra whisper. “I am proud of you.” She choked out a laugh of joy at the woman’s words. “You didn’t have to take this burden on for me or for my mother. But you did. You, not Selena, cleared our name and debt. I, and my mother and siblings. We owe you. Not Selena. You.”

Carefully, the woman extrapolated herself from Deanna in order to hold her out at arm’s length – necessary for the woman to stare into Deanna’s watery eyes.

“And believe me, Deanna. We are going to pay you back – Freya especially will do that.”

“I don’t…” Deanna sniffled. “I don’t need anything. You’re…you’re family.”

“All the more reason that we show gratitude to you.” The older woman countered. “Trust me. I know my mother. She always repays her debt. And she owes you much.”

With another short laugh, Deanna scratched at her nose. “Think she could fix my marriage?” she teased, earning a sad, yet understanding shake of the head from Alejandra. “Worth a shot. I mean, you guys are witches, right?”

“And so are you… now.”

While she, sort of, knew that, to hear it was a different matter entirely for Deanna. It was true. She was recognized as a witch in the eyes of the Aldens – one of them. It was strange. It didn’t have to mean anything, but it could if she wished it to.

Still, Selena’s earlier words – her views and partial ‘motivation’ for crashing the party – stormed to the front of Deanna’s mind.

“Mother…” she tried delicately. “Did we really celebrate the best students in the class… or did we just divide the ‘elite’ from the ‘unworthy’?”

It took a moment for Alejandra to process the question – not that Deanna could blame her. She normally didn’t use that kind of sentence structure or way of thinking-

“That sounds like a ‘Selena-thing’ to ask.” Alejandra quickly concluded, earning a nod from Deanna.

“She…” the younger woman tried. “That was her rationale for this, she said. Though I don’t entirely believe her.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
“But she talked about students that had so much opposition in their way yet still managed to graduate, despite it. Why…” she sniffled again. “Why couldn’t the Aldens celebrate them too? For overcoming so much? Why did it only have to be the ‘highest grades’? Sure, award the highest, I guess, but why not include all the graduates?”

For a moment, the older woman sighed as she considered the question. “I…” she slowly spoke. “I thought the same thing when Sage and Caius graduated. And when I graduated.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” Came another sigh. “One of my best friends, Gregory, couldn’t attend my graduation party because he hadn’t made the cut by one percent. So…I had to go without him.” She looked down at her hands. “He was devastated. And the party… I remember all I wanted was to celebrate with him and my other friends that couldn’t make it.”

“So…” Deanna spoke sadly. “It IS elitist…”

“In some way, yes.” Alejandra admitted. “But it’s so grandfathered in that no one wants to change it. It’s ‘tradition’ now so no one questions it aloud.”

“But that’s so… messed up!” Deanna remarked.
“I know.” VanHohenheim nodded. “But just because it is that way doesn’t mean you can’t take pride in your accomplishment!”

“How can I?” Deanna said in disgust. “How can I proud that I made some ‘elite list’? I’d be advocating a hierarchy!”

“No.” Alejandra clarified. “You can be proud that you worked hard and achieved success, while at the same time learning from this. Just because you are proud of your hard work doesn’t mean you think you and you alone should be acknowledged for it. That’s the difference.”

Another sniffle escaped her, but Deanna was still able to process her mother’s proposal. In a way, it was a lot like being in SCW. She wanted to be seen as the hardest working wrestler – the woman with the grit to overcome anything – but that didn’t mean she needed to choose ‘who got the shot and who didn’t’. She could do all she can to meet every challenge head on, however they wanted that challenge to be.

It was why she had offered a Last Woman Standing match to Polly. Because, after everything said and done, they both, especially Polly, deserved to see who truly had more heart and passion and determination to become the United States Champion. Was being in the Alden’s charter… could it be done in a similar way? Being a member of the ‘elite’ but refusing to support a hierarchy?

Interesting how you two have divulged…

The words she had heard from CHBK echoed in her mind, the redhead having rewatched the scene on YouTube to better understand. She KNEW what Selena, her wife would do. If The Snow Queen had been the top of the class, part of the elite, she would have used it to rub it in Raphael’s and the elders’ faces before rejecting it, making things worse rather than better. She didn’t need the Aldens or to be a witch or anything. Not when she had all she needed in SCW.

But Deanna… Deanna wanted to know more. She wanted to learn… more than that, she found herself wanting to help make things better with the Aldens. If tonight had proven anything beyond her wife’s petty actions, it was that some things within the charter needed to change. Traditions needed to be looked at differently.

But could she do that?

She wasn’t sure, but in that moment, she was willing to consider giving it a real try. Just like she was willing to give Polly the fight her challenger wanted, if only to prove that Deanna, herself, was everything she wished to be in SCW.

“You okay?” she heard Alejandra ask, the older woman studying the redhead carefully.

“No.” Deanna shook her head. “But I will be.” She cast her eyes up to meet Alejandra’s. “Thank you.” She whispered. “For coming in and talking to me.”

“No problem.” She smiled, granting the woman another hug. “Family, remember?”

Deanna nodded at that before the dark-skinned woman separated herself. “Okay.” Came Alejandra’s declaration. “Let’s get you out of here before this party gets any more rowdy.”

Giving a nod, Deanna followed her mother-in-law’s instruction to wait in the bathroom while she fetched something. It was only a moment or two before the woman returned with a long, black coat. Without a word, she wrapped it around Deanna’s shoulders, effectively covering most of the redhead’s body, including her dirt-covered dress.

Together, the pair made their exit from the bathroom, just in time to see Raphael Alden rush out of the ballroom, closing the doors behind him. He spotted them a second later.

“Deanna! Alejandra!” he called out, rushing towards the two. “Are you alright?” he asked to both of them.

“We’re fine.” Alejandra answered. “A little shaken up but we’ll be okay.”
“I am so sorry.” He offered.

“Why…why are you sorry?” Deanna asked in confusion. “It was my wife… I was the one who…”
“Deanna, no.” Alejandra firmly silenced. “It was your wife. That is all. No other excuses for such behaviour.”

“Well…” Raphael tried. “I still think some responsibility should be on us – the elders and I, I mean.”

“That’s… that’s very kind of you to say.” Deanna replied. “Those people – the ones that came with Selena… they really just wanted to celebrate their own graduation too. They may not have been the highest grades but… don’t you think they deserved recognition, too?”

For a moment, Raphael cast a glance back at the closed doors of the ballroom – what was happening on the other side, Deanna had no clue – but he eventually returned his gaze towards the pair of women. “I do.” He finally answered.

“You do?!” Deanna asked in surprise.

“How hard would it have been?” he asked with a shrug. “We accommodate a few more dozen people? The space would have been large enough. Clearly, there was enough food and drink for them. Perhaps if we were more accepting of everyone, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Then…” Deanna bit her lower lip, hope springing inside her chest. “Maybe you can bring it up to the elders about changing it? To allow everyone to come and take pride in their accomplishment?”

For a moment, Raphael seemed to gaze at Deanna, his mind tumbling the question around, before he smiled a small but gentle smile. “I shall.” He vowed. “I think this situation will be a real eye-opener for them.” He gave a nod of his head. “Good idea, Deanna.”

The redhead felt her heart almost burst inside her chest as the remark. Change… real change… she had just done it! Or put it in motion… A bright smile crossing her features. “Thank you.” She replied. “I’m sorry… about the dress.”

“Dress?” he asked, casting his eyes downward, spying the streaks of dirt on it. “Do I even want to know?”
“I…uh…can I tell a joke?” Deanna asked. “In keeping with the humor of earlier?”
“I… I suppose.” Raphael half-smiled, clearly curious.

With a gesture of her thumb, Deanna pointed to the still tilted over pot and plant nearby them. “I got a little potted.”

For a moment, Raphael’s eyes widened before a laugh escaped him. “Next time…” he eyed Deanna. “Just come talk to me… I got a guy that can get better stuff than that!”

“Yeah… nitrates suck.” Deanna fired back. “Wait… you’ve got a guy?-“

“Oh, you are going to be interesting for this charter, Deanna.” Raphael remarked. “I’ll be watching how things go with great interest!” Reaching out, the man patted Deanna on the shoulder before excusing himself to return to the ballroom and restore some semblance of order.

Deanna watched him go, his last words sitting heavily in her mind.

Me too… she found herself answering, more so for herself than for him as Alejandra gently guided her out of the building. Me too…

_______________________________________________________________


So… where do we start?

And when I say that, SCW Universe… Little Gritters… that is not an open invitation to talk about my wife. I do not WANT to talk about Selena Frost or the world championship or whatever the hell she is doing.

When I say ‘where do we start’, I want to make it clear where my mind is. I want to make it clear that my focus is on Retribution. My focus is on the SCW United States Championship. My focus is on the Last Woman Standing Match, and my focus is on Polly Pingotti.

And I know Polly is going to talk about this being ‘the most important match of her career’. She is going to regale you all with the same tale she told the last time we faced. About having more heart than me, about being tougher than me. About wanting it more than me. The same lines she threw at us before our last match on Breakdown.

But I want to make something VERY clear about that night. Something that you, Polly, have failed to mention. Failed to acknowledge.

Because I acknowledged the validity of your claim. I acknowledged that our last match ended in controversy. I acknowledged that a decisive winner was not truly determined. I even acknowledged that, though the result says otherwise, in my heart, I did not truly beat you.

But what you are failing to see, what you are failing to acknowledge, Polly… is that you NEVER beat me either.

You can claim you ‘had me’. You can claim you ‘had the match in the bag’. I’ve heard it before, people claiming such things. Asher Hayes claimed I ‘wasn’t even close in beating him’. But those are just words. In truth, Polly, I now have two wins over you, which means that me beating you, it’s not just something I believe I can do now – it’s something that I KNOW I can do!

But you wanted more than just another shot, didn’t you? You wanted to pour gasoline on the fire. That’s why you mocked me. You dared me to ‘do the right thing’, right? To give you another shot. But see, Polly, what you fail to realize is that ‘another shot’ wasn’t good enough for me.

Because I don’t like leaving controversy to hang over my head. I like definites. I like certainties. The sky is blue. The grass is green. I am the SCW United States Champion because I am the best in the division – certainties. And, yet, match after match, every time I’ve beaten you, you’ve had an excuse at the ready. You were distracted at the chamber, your focus was elsewhere, I got lucky, on and on you go because you can’t admit that my grit trumps whatever angry, screaming ‘I want it more’ mentality that you have.

And truthfully, Polly, another match with you would just yield the same result if I won. Another win for me, another excuse from you. I don’t know… maybe your contact lens fell out. Maybe the sun was in your eyes, despite the roof on top of the arena. Maybe it’s some trick from Marissa or something – you would have some reason other than acknowledging the truth.

Unless… unless I upped the ante a little. Unless I put us in a situation that was either put up or shut up! And Polly, I got that situation. That situation is ‘Last Woman Standing’.

Now… for me, personally? I have never been in such a match. Retribution this weekend will mark my first time competing in such a match. A match that is determined not by pinfall, not by submission, but by knockout. By being unable to answer a ten count. A match that is the truest test of grit and passion and toughness, of everything!

A match where, Polly, everything you have stated – that you ‘had’ me? That I was ‘reeling’ and ‘desperate’? It gets put to the test and we see just how close you can get to beating me. Just how close you can get to outlasting me.

I’m excited about that, Polly. I am excited to see that because, like I said, you say you can – I KNOW I can. I’ve proven it time and time again. In the chamber, in tag matches, in the ring, I have never failed to take all you can give and return it with interest.

But you… you want to play this card that I ‘stole the match’ from you. That I ‘stole your night’ and ‘your victory’ from you simply because of an official’s mistake. Simply because the official made a human error.

I’ll admit that is what happened. That a mistake was made. But to make the leap in logic that you would have beat me had it not happened, Polly? Let me ask you.

How?

How would you have beaten me had it not happened? Were you gonna kick out and hit me with the Polly Pop or The Head Turner? Maybe… but then why couldn’t you do that in our past tag matches? Why couldn’t you do that in the chamber last year? And what about me hitting you with The Burnout? Or the Checkmate? Or locking you into the Consortium? We can trade what-ifs back and forth until we are both blue in the face, Polly, but where did I ‘steal’ something from you with such hyperbole?

You want to claim I stole something from you, Polly? What did I steal? A ‘potential’ career highlight? A ‘maybe’ winner’s purse? A ‘possible’ champion’s bonus?

I stole NOTHING from you, Polly. I did what I said I was going to do and defend the championship that I love and that I love defining in SCW with all my heart! I did EXACTLY what I promised I would do. It isn’t like I discredited your very credentials or crossed a personal line by downplaying accomplishments or disrespected your passion and talents, Polly. I acknowledged your claim and I stated in front of the world that you deserved another shot! But you kept digging. You kept going at me. You crossed that personal line with your false promises of ‘having me’ or ‘having me beat’. Of proclaiming that my ‘grit’ wasn’t what got me here, wasn’t what beat you, but luck and my last name!

If anything, Polly, what you did was show just how narrow-minded and arrogant you truly are. All you did was show that you have trapped yourself in this mentality that you, and only you, can be the United States Champion and that any other outcome, any other result that doesn’t favor that goal – that doesn’t favor you as the winner – well it’s either not possible or it’s the result of something other than that person being better than you.

My views are a little different, you see. Because I, also, recently lost a title match. I lost the world title match to Asher Hayes to cap off 2023. I wrestled until my knee gave out in a collision, but like you, Polly, I didn’t accomplish what I set out to do that night. I didn’t break the glass ceiling. I didn’t achieve what I promised. I failed. And there was no one to blame but myself.

And blame myself I did. My ‘Icarus moment’ if you’ll recall. Me flying too close to the sun too soon. The reality check that as good as I have been, there was room to improve, room to be better, room to prove more and more that I am the hardest working person in SCW today!

And if we go further back? My life has been filled with failings. Shortcomings. As a tag-team champion. As a Television Champion. As a representative of my wife. The night I got beat by the biggest jobber in SCW history? The night I got beat by five moves. The night where I was little more than a hostage and tied to a fence. The night I was thrown up against a barricade to distract Selena. The night I was sent to prison on a trumped up charge. The night that I fell out of an arena exit and lost my half of the tag-team titles.

A career full of shortcomings and failures, perhaps as many as accolades, but the difference between you and me is that you made excuses for every single one of yours, Polly.

Me? What did I do? I endured!

I accepted those losses and I used them to better myself! I took the pain and I learned from them because you can learn so much from loss! How to adapt! How to evolve! How to live! How to recover! How to reinvent yourself!

Those were some of the greatest lessons in my career, Polly. Of my life. Because I am NEVER EVER going to be ‘The Snow Queen’. I am never going to be ‘The Face of SCW’. I am never going to be “The Blue-Eyed Devil’. And I don’t want to be. Why be what someone else has been… when I can take my own experiences, my own lessons, and be something totally new? Totally my own? Totally me?

And if you think that quest, Polly, that quest for identity, that quest for vindication, for evolution – if you think, Polly Pignotti, that my journey to a place where I belong here in SCW – a place that is solely mine -- can be so easily outweighed by your ‘slight’ of losing two matches against me… if you think my months scratching and clawing to not only get here but stay here as the United States Champion can be outweighed by what you ‘know’?

Then Polly, you are in for a ruder awakening than what you got in that chamber and on Breakdown. Because enduring is what I have done and enduring is what I will do this weekend when you and I face! I will endure what you ‘know’! I will endure your ‘excuses’! I will endure EVERYTHING you can throw at me and I will give you the chance to put me down for good!

But understand that I will be looking to do the same thing to you! Because what I want isn’t just to retain my championship. What I want isn’t just a third win in my column, Polly. No! What I want is absolute clarity! What I want is undeniable proof! And that will only happen when I take all that you have, all that you give me, and I surpass it. I outlast it! I keep getting back up! Until you can’t. Until you won’t…

And I leave you lying there in the ring, looking up at the lights, with a million different excuses running through your head… but not one able to come out of your mouth!

Come hell or high water, Polly, we will finally have an answer to every question and statement we have made. One of us will have our retribution. One of us will be the last woman standing. And one of us will be the, unquestionable, undisputed, United States Champion…

The other… will be burned out.

Checkmate, bitches.

[Jay Gold]

NOTE:  Please make sure to read Colleen's posting in the 6-person tag match thread first before reading this one, as this one is the third in the trilogy.


Season 4 / Episode 34 / The Final Stand (Part 3 - The Strength In Them)