Scene opens with Bianca studying some choice pieces for her new clothing line. Trying to prepare things for the next runway show, she walks from figure to figure pointing here, touching there, and making comments to a younger girl who is following her around with a clipboard - busy jotting down notes that Bianca is vocalizing. Her phone rings, and while waving a hand at the girl to shoo her away, she slides a small silver phone out of her back pocket. Looking down at the LCD screen, she smiles. It's Giani.

"Ciao papa, How are you tonight?"
A brief moment passes before she speaks again,
"Si, I'll be there in a couple of hours. I'm just finishing up some work for the mostra di pista, mercoledi."

She was just picking up a piece of fabric to look closely at the detailing while listening to Giani, and while grimacing a bit in disgust at what he was telling her it also translated toward the fabric. Disapproving of both.


Shaking her head she sighs, rolls her eyes, and turns from the model, putting a hand on her hip.
"I'll be over there in un momento. I have a message to send these fessas."
______________________________________________________

Vignette:
The camera fades in to find Bianca pacing a little. She runs a hand through her hair and turns, placing her hands firmly on her hips, the SCW Bombshell Tag Team Title resting on her shoulder easily. Looking dead into the camera, "So I got some interesting piece of news today, regarding the two teams that think they can even shine a light on Bei Combattenti's talent. I don't think so."



"Tortellini...or whatever her name is...and the hood version of a CoCo Chanel wannabe. Yes, I know I have a pretty face. I know I'm with the hottest guy in the SCW. You know what else I know? That I'm a Champion - and you're not. Don't let this pretty face fool you girls, because I will turn your Azz with wannabe "Class" into Grass. I'm Italian, and I speak better English than you - and it's not even my first language! So to act the way you do and think you have "Class" is an insult! Cazzo! It seems SCW is being flooded with hood rats and street urchin these days. What a shame. The integrity of this company is at stake - and the integrity of the championships as well. It's hard to believe that you actually acquired a shot at our titles without laying on your back. Pathetic.

And moving right along to the joke of a "message" that was sent by Laura and Amanda. Two more to be checked off the list. You don't give off very strong impressions, dears...and if you honestly thought that your little note was going to make me - oh! You know what? You're right. Maybe I'll go forfeit the title right now - I'm SOOOOOOO scared."

Laughing, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes again.

"You would wish that. Wouldn't you? Honey, I spent 7 years in Japan. Wrestling men. Getting slapped around and thrown around until I was black and blue. You're a cake walk compared to what I'm used to. So if hard ball is how you want to play it - then I'm bringing my bat. Game on, fessas!"

She pushes the camera out of her way and storms off out of the scene. The camera fades to black.

 Beijing, China.  Beihang University.

@SCWEvelynRoss: @SCWBossHS Hit done tragic, but I'll see you in 30. Xoxo

@SCWEvelynRoss: @SCWBossHS OMFG AUTOCORRECT! *some

@SCWBossHS: @SCWEvelynRoss Lucky I speak auto correct. I hate traffic, see you soon

@SCWEvelynRoss: @SCWBossHS haha! Kk papa.

Mark Ward grins looking down at his phone. Backing out of Twitter and hitting the button his phone's screen blackens - saving cell life. I guess I'll get some work done while I'm waiting. He thinks as he settles down at his desk. He completely loses track of time as he succumbs to the stress of his job. His elbows resting on the desktop and his hand buried in his hair as the other fumbles with paperwork. The room around him was dark, with only the soft hue of the light from his desk which beamed brightly onto the papers. His actions shift between reading contracts, sorting papers, and signing important deals for future use. He didn't even notice Evelyn showing up. She stood in the doorway, watching him a moment before opening her mouth to speak. "Always workin' hard."

Looking up, Mark smiled. All he saw was her silhouette in the doorway, thanks to the lighting in the hallway. "Hey, you." She smiled and stepped in, closing the door behind her. Her silhouette disappeared into the darkness with a following click of the door closing all the way. "Don't you know when to take a break?" The sound of high heels clicking towards him, and her form slowly coming into view as she stepped toward his desk and into the light. Mark shrugged a bit, "I do have a Super Card to set up, and with Climax Control only a few days away..." His voice trailed off, his eyes taking in the sight as she stepped into the light. She was dressed in a strapless black mini dress that fit her like a glove, a red bolero jacket and a red belt resting just under the bust line, and red stiletto heels. She was now standing before the desk, her hands rested on the flat surface between them. His eyes traced that one strand of hair that fell down into her face as she tilted her head, her smile widening. "I see. But you get so stressed out...and that's not good, hun." Walking around the desk, her fingertips slid across the surface, her steps slow and deliberate - almost as if sizing up her prey.

"So, you had something in mind?" Leaning back in his seat, he let his hand fall slightly limp yet his fingers were still entangled with papers. His other hand settling down onto his lap, resting on his thigh. Her fingers left the surface, meeting his wrist and drawing up his arm to his shoulder. She came to stand behind him, her other hand raising to his opposite shoulder. Her hands flexed as did her fingers, gently massaging his shoulders. Sighing heavily, Mark's eyes closed and his body slowly relaxed. Her hot breath against the side of his face, her lips moved against his ear as she spoke, "Well considering the security took my bottle that I brought..." There was a slight pause as one of her hands left his shoulder. Reaching down she pulled a flask out from her hidden garter beneath her dress. The flask was small, but contained a well aged whiskey that would knock you on your ass. "So I had to bring the back up." She giggled, handing him the flask - only to go back to her work at his shoulders, working out a knot that was menacing his trapezoid muscle.

Chuckling, Mark took a swig and exhaled afterward, "That's pretty strong." She giggled in suit and patted his shoulder, moving around the chair. She lifted herself up on the desk without a word, sitting on top of the paperwork he was working on, crossing her legs with hands resting beside her thighs on the desktop. Since his hand hadn't left the papers at all, her hip brushed his hand, and he quickly responded by slipping his hand to play against the fabric. Biting her lip a 'mmm' escaped her lips. He handed her the flask and she took her own swig before setting it down on the desk. Her eyes locking with his.

Standing, Mark grinned and pressed his fists into the desk on either side of her. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that stretched in protest over his muscular form. Leaning forward slowly he whispered almost inaudible, "I guess it's my turn..." His grin quickly faded as he captured her lips without permission. Evelyn's eyes closed and her face turned upward into his kiss, her hand coming up to cup his face. His hand moving to her lower back as he continued to lean in, and soon she found herself laying back onto an elbow across his desk. His other hand moving quickly to her thigh, he coaxed her legs to open so he could step between them, his thumb pushing her skirt up to grab a handful of her fleshy thigh. He broke the kiss and her head leaned back, meeting the hard top of the desk as his kisses trailed down to her neck. Just as his mouth found the center of her collarbone, his phone rang.

He groaned and looked up to find her face staring at him now. His hand leaving her thigh to move to grab his phone. Pulling it up the word 'Angelica' was sprawled across the screen in big white letters, within eye-shot of Evelyn. Choosing not to answer it, he silenced the phone and stuck his phone into his pocket. Evelyn's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Angelica?" Mark was holding  her the way he was before now, looking up at her. "Yeah...it's my girl." Evelyn began to sit up slowly, "Your girl? Why didn't you tell me you were taken?" She scoffed a little, confused. "Well, it's complicated, kinda." She sat up the rest of the way, pulling her skirt back over her thighs, "How so?" "Well..." He began, "She was my birthday present from Spike. We have been together for about 7 years...but we both share women...I'm not really tied down the way you might expect. She used to wrestle for us...but she's injured, and she hasn't really been back since."

Evelyn sighed and stood up as he did, pressing her hand against his chest and looking up at his face, she bit her lip. "Mark, I want to do this, I do. Trust me, there are so many things I want to do to you..." sighing she shook her head, "..and I can't believe I'm stopping myself, but I'm not comfortable with this. I had every intention of getting exclusive with you - but to feel like I'm going to be second best to your 'girl' - I mean..there's never going to be any advancement...I'd be nothing but a piece of ass to you with no hope of it ever getting any further." His face was serious, but he nodded slowly, "I understand." She looked down for a minute, thinking, then looked back up at him - disappointment and regret flashing in her eyes, "I just...Ya know, I really pegged you as a guy who would be into loyal women. Women who would be into just you and no one else...other women included." She scoffed a bit, not believing this moment with him. "I just don't really understand why you would want a woman that treats herself like an object, instead of being strong and independant." He held up a finger, "Wait, she's a strong woman." Evelyn shook her head, "Not physically, Mark. You need a strong woman, who's loyal, independant, and able to hold you down when you're stressed - and obviously she isn't here to take care of you - because I'm the one doing it. Think about it." She leaned up on tip toes and laid one on him, much like the way she had the first time she met up with him. Breaking the kiss she looked up at him for a long moment. "Ok?"

Pulling herself from his side, she left her flask and headed toward the door slowly.  She stopped, her hand resting on the door and looking over her shoulder, "I hope it's me who wins that match this weekend at Climax Control. I want you, Mark. But, I want just you." Her eyes lowered to the floor before she unclicked the door and exited quietly. Mark sighed and sat back into his chair, grabbing the front of his jeans and shifting on his hip to rearrange the goods. "Women" he sighed, going back to his work.