You never get a second chance to make a first impression.
Within those first irritating seven seconds I could tell I had them in the palm of my hands. It was electric, the buzz that surrounded Jaycee MacDonald and I as we faced off against Amy Santino and Matt Knox. Not even the hall of famer herself could keep the crowd on their feet, her weight in the centre of the ring appeared nimble and forgetting. The fans treated her like a fly at a BBQ that had over stayed their welcome. Annoying. Maddening. Grating.
Once the trip down memory lane was over for Amy, the crowds attention shifted and just like that all eyes were on me. I could feel the interest, burning my skin like the unforgiving Nevada sun, it was blistering. And yet, I couldn’t help but appeal for more. I needed to burn.
Fifty shades of red if you will.
I desired the fans attention, and I was going to get it without regards, with no remorse and without a second coming. My seven seconds needed to be spent wisely. My seven seconds needed to feel like an unforgettable life time.
I etched myself into your skin, like the drag of a needle. A blemish to your happy go lucky bombshell roster. A scar to your predictable bombshell roster. A mutilation to the mundane patterns.
All eyes on me had to be lasting. A staring competition, pray that you don’t blink.
But please, don’t confuse my obsession with other’s attentions, as me begging for acceptance. Don’t confuse my blood lust for all eyes on me, as me begging to be loved.
Loved? I’ll never be loved.
Adored? I’d rather be feared.
And I will be, just you wait. For where I walk chaos sure follows.
My obsession is purely my own, it’s soothing but what brings me tranquillity, will bring you turmoil.
- - - - - - -
Climax Control – Three Hundred and Twenty-Two…
I should have felt like I was on top of the world. We had won. We had bypassed all judgments and all gossip that Jaycee and I would never make it past round one. And yet, in the middle of the ring Jaycee defeated Matt within a blink of the eye. I should have been radiating with joy, but I couldn’t even muster a ghost of a smile to cross my lips as I made my way backstage. I was empty. The rush of victory people harped on about sure felt like misery. In fact, I felt sick. There was only one thought dancing in my mind, like a salsa girl on a Friday night.
What the fuck was that?
I knew what it was, I wasn’t an idiot, but I thought I was well enough to stop the urge from running through my veins. Seven, always fucking seven. Once the bell was called for and Jaycee had his hand raised in victory. The counting started and I knew I wasn’t going to make it to seven. The worse thing is, I didn’t even know the trigger. So, like a junkie without a fix, I barrelled into the ring demanding solace by insisting I have my hand raised. Like I was owe the pleasure? Like I deserved it. I didn’t deserve it. I wasn’t even the victor in my team, but I couldn’t tame the selfish little bitch inside of me that begged to be petted. Oh, how she loved to be petted…
Once I cleared the curtains I made a bee line towards the locker rooms, I wasn’t going to stick around. Even if it was expected of me as a member of the Sin City Wrestling roster, the shadows of my actions were engulfing me and true to form I wanted to hide away from judgemental eyes. Her judgemental eyes. Those disgustingly green analytical eyes that brought me to my fucking knees. Making my way hallway down one the back hallways, it didn’t take long for the burning of her attention to seep into my skin.
“What the fuck was that?” She asked, as if that question hadn’t crossed my mind. “Answer me, Cade.” So harsh, so abrasive, so fucking Australian.
“You tell me, Jordan.” I didn’t bother to turn around, I could tell she was already standing right behind me. Her piercing gaze made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Don’t get me wrong. I owe a lot to Evie Jordan, for saving my skin five years ago but I will never forgive myself for showing her weakness. Evie was a spider, never fearful, always willing to play with her food, patient and calculated. I was the same, but she could never see me with those eyes, because of the way we met. I was weak, broken, bleeding and like the webbed freak she was, she enjoyed poking at that open wound with each of her eight legs just to get a reaction out of me. Ben called it her way of showing affection, I just thought she was a sadistic bitch.
Evie heels clicked on the floor as she made her way around me, looking down into my eyes. “I thought you said you had the urge under control?” The way her mocking tone sounded song like, made me want to rip out her vocal cords. “You promised me, you’d handle yourself better than that Cade.” She tsked.
Everything in my body was screaming at me to close my eyes, to push what had just happened after the match out of my mind, but once Evie had her eyes locked on yours you dare not to blink. That’s when she knows she’s got to you. With ever fibre of power I could muster, I just glared right back at her, taking a step towards her. I wasn’t going to be shamed, more so than what I already felt.
“I said, I’ll handle it, Jordan.” I hissed. “Just leave it alone.” I begged.
“Never.” A promise.
The left side of her mouth propped up as she smirked down at me, why couldn’t my mentor in this business be a placid, meek, coach who just applauded? The Australian standing before me was never going to reward my fuck ups with feel good pep talks, she was never going to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be okay, she was going to punch me in the jaw, kick me up the ass… well in her tone arse and tell me to do fucking better. Like I wasn’t trying to be better. Sadistic bitch.
“Do you need me to count to seven?” She teased. “I can tell you’re going to war with yourself in that adorable little head of yours, so, tell me Cade… what’s eating you alive?” Evie chimed with a smirk.
It was almost like my condition was exciting to her. As she always looked for what buttons to press that would set me off. You see the cute thing is, she thinks she could handle me at my worst because she has seen the pits of the hell herself but if she took a proper tour, she’d see my name carved in the walls. Evie bent down a little so she could look right in my icy blue eyes, with that stupid smirk on her face.
“The silent treatment I, see? Is that anyway to treat your only friend here?” She toyed. “Hmm alright then, I’ll tell you what I think happened. The match went okay, I mean you could have been better… but all in all things went your way and you still managed to unleash a little shitshow… so now I know you’re eating yourself up inside because you think you fucked up. I mean don’t get me wrong… you did.” She said humbly.
I fucked up, I knew that. I didn’t needed it written on a billboard that over looked the Vegas strip. What I needed was time to think about it, recover from it and move the fuck on from it. How was I going to face Jaycee again without looking like a complete tit? This is not how I though our journey in the tournament would kick off. The guy looked like he had a hard time trusting people as is and there I went, acting like a twat all because of what? WHAT EXACTLY? I started to roll my head from side to side, as I sucked in a deep breath. One. Exhale. Two. Inhale. Three. Exhale. Four. Inhale. Five. Exhale. Six. Inhale. Seven… the air blew past my lips like hurricane wrapping it’s unforgiving knuckles on your front door. It was too fast, and I need Slow. I needed the world to slow down. Looking up, I met Evie’s eyes with anger. It was bubbling but I wouldn’t let the water simmer over and boil over the pot. I’ve come to far for two episodes in one night. I wasn’t going to turn into a true crime Netflix special.
“I get it, I get it… I fucked up.” I waved my hands up in surrender. “Is there anything else you need to tell me that I. Don’t. Already. Know?” my teeth snapped shut with purpose.
Spoiler alert I can be a moody fucker when I’m cornered. It’s why I bite my tongue until I can taste metallic rust well that’s how many describe the taste of blood. Evie just smiled, nothing took away that cold bitch’s smile.
“So, there is a little fight under all that doubt after all?” She poked. “Lev… I need you to listen to me and listen to me well. I get it, you’re different but you’re not this little meek mild girl… I know who you are. I’ve seen what you can do… inside and outside the ring… you’re not this. You’re not this weak little thing I’m currently looking at. Yeah, you fucked up but let me tell you this… you still have a chance to redeem yourself. First impressions are deceiving, second impressions are revealing, and third impressions are the stone-cold truth.” She purred proudly.
“Have you been reading bumper stickers again?” I teased.
Evie’s hands came down to rest on my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin through my shirt.
“Oh, I wish I drove the fuck over you with my Ferrari… but here we are… two fucking peas in a pod.” She snarled, before lightening up. “What I’m TRYING to say to your thick skull is that… you may think you look a little crazy after tonight, but I can promise you… you’re a ‘talking’ pot plant short, without a glitter bomb having and sixteen names changes away from the types of crazy that run around here, begging for attention. What I need you to do is to own what happened tonight and get the fuck over it. There will no repeats of tonight because I can see how it’s eating you.” She snarled.
I went to open my mouth to reply but the bitch didn’t let me.
“Because if you don’t get the fuck over it and move on… then you’ll force my hand and I’ll permanently place myself by your side each and every week, exposing your dirty little secret.” A threat.
I looked at Evie, dragging my bottom lip in between my teeth to give it a squeeze. She wasn’t joking. This wasn’t her being playful the look in her eyes said she was dead serious.
“You’re not a secret.” I muttered. “I just didn’t want people assuming I only got into SCW because of my friendship with you. I didn’t want people saying I’m a try hard Evie Jordan.” The truth.
Evie placed her hands over her heart and faked a gasp.
“Did you just call me your friend? My, my Lev we have made progress tonight…” Evie said proudly. “However, don’t put yourself on a pedestal you can’t reach Cade. You’ll never be like me, you’ll never be like a Walmart version of me… and you want to know why? Because I have everything, I want in life… I’m finally complete... you just need to get a handle of what’s going on in here.”
She tapped the side of my head, her long manicured nail stabbing into my right temple for good measure.
“You could surpass me Cade, in fact I’m fucking praying for it.” She smiled, honestly.
I wasn’t expecting the sweetness of honey with her brutal Queen Bee sting but the unsettling warm feeling that was spilling across my chest made me want to dry heave. Compliments in my word were unheard of, I didn’t have the luxury of a pretty childhood filled with my parent’s love and affection. So those words that just spilled from Evie’s likes felt all too foreign. I felt my lips trying to curve up towards a smile, but the best I could offer was a smirk. Feelings, fucking feelings. The combustible feeling in my chest had me gasping for air, I couldn’t be here any longer. I couldn’t fucking face it.
She was right though I had to move on from tonight or otherwise I was going to consume myself to a point of no return and I fucking refuse to be a one hit wonder. The thought of Jaycee entered my head, damage control is what I needed right now, and it came in the form of an apology. If I left Evie now, I could probably find my Blast from the Past tag team partner before he rode off into the night and refused to speak to me again. Argh, I fucking HATE feeling things. Guilt made my bones feel heavy and I was done being fucking weak. Offering Evie, a slight nod as if that would pacify her, I turned on the chunky soles of my boots.
“Where are you off to?” Evie barked.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“I need to find Jaycee and try and make a mends for tonight… or in your words… owning what happened and then getting the fuck over it.” I sighed.
In true form I didn’t have to look back to see her smile, because when Evie smiled you felt it. She wasn’t known as a cold, unforgiving, unnerving bitch for no reason. And soon enough the world would see that I’m nothing like her… in fact I’m fucking worse.
- - - - - - -
The camera opens up in a small blacked out room inside the Star of the Desert Arena. There is one lonely light that swings back and forth as it dangles from the ceiling. The four walls are covered in gawdy black velvet wallpaper that shimmers ever so lightly as the light too and frows above it, casting shadows in it wake. In the centre of the room is a single black chair, with no owner to claim it. Until the sound of chunky boots assaulting the flooring causes an echo to bounce off the four walls. Walking into the sight of the camera, a smirk dances across my face. Ripped black jeans cover my legs, whilst a cropped Harley Davidson shirt barely covers my midsection, as my prized leather hangs prestigiously over my shoulders as if it were my own championship. My long black hair is down and out cascading around my face, whilst I’ve donned on a modest natural look of makeup. Less is more, ladies. Without a second to waste I take a seat on the lonely chair and turned towards the camera.
“Roll up and roll on, round two of the Sin City Wrestling Blast from the Past tournament and who do Jaycee and I have the honours of facing this week in Primm, Nevada? Hitamashi and Amber Ryan… No… I didn’t fucking stammer.” I hiss.
I hate public speaking, not because I struggle with words but purely because I would rather talk with my actions, after all they speak louder.
“While fear I’m sure is the emotion Amber fucking Ryan is looking forward to seeing in these icy blues. I can assure you, I don’t fear what I don’t know and what I don’t know is this self-proclaimed Queenpin of Sin City Wrestling. Sure, the tales of your conquests in Sin City Wrestling are legendary, but I’m a firm believer that you can’t even pretend to know someone you have never had the honour of knocking some sense into them.” I can’t help but laugh.
The cameras zoons in on my eyes, the glow of the swinging light above me brings my icy blues to life.
“I bet you see an easy fight for yourself this weekend Amber, I bet you’re counting up those victories and already writing my name on your wall of shame, just to drag a line through it… yet I’m here to inform you your royal highness I don’t bow to power, I don’t conform to royalty and I sure as hell don’t bow to false gods, and false queens. What is it in the Bombshell division in Sin City Wrestling that’s given all the champions this same nerve grating attitude… I swear if you close your eyes and listened to each of them speak, you wouldn’t be able to tell who is who.”
Pausing for impact, I click my tongue my teeth before I continue.
“They are all on winning streaks, isn’t that a given? Isn’t that expected of the current champions and yet, they speak of it as if it’s some sort of rare purity ring that only the elite are allowed to hold. They act as if they are all at the top of their field but in reality, there can be only one, right?… and that’s meant to be you, Amber. You’re the ruler of the roost and if that’s the case why are you so content on letting people like Krystal and Andrea undermine your rule? I mean they are wagglingly their tongues casting doubt on your position of the top bitch in Sin City Wrestling and here you are, just rattling off the names of your victims each week like you're Ted Bundy. Is that all your reign is going to be known for? All the free feeds that bookers throw at you… because when it comes down to hunting your kills, to me it seems you’ve been more than happy to wait it out and see what helpless soul is thrown in front of you. No thrill, no chase, no pride.” I sigh.
Closing my eyes I tilt my head back, before opening them again to watch the light swing above me. Back and forth, back, and forth, back, and forth, back… rolling my head forward I look towards the camera and continue.
“I don’t see a hunter… I see someone who has become compliant with the easy route, who has become tame to the fact she refuses to engage in the chase. Why stalk your prey, when you can just lay in wait and hope for Crystal to come out of the wood works and demand a title shot? Predictable is easy right? Predictable is comforting… and from where I'm sitting… you’ve grown too comfortable in the shoes you walk in and that’s why facing me in the ring this Sunday night will be the wake up call your title reign requires.” I flash my white teeth with a smile.
Wetting my lips with my tongue, I take a deep breathe before I continue. I was never the one for the over use of words, but tonight is different, tonight is special it’s not every night you get to shoot from the hip on the current Sin City Wrestling World Bombshell Champion.
“You have no idea who you're walking into the match against this week at Climax Control. You have no idea how to prepare, or how to mentally get in the right head space and that’s what your boring predictable self needs… yet this isn’t going to be the wake-up call that has you clapping your hands and applauding your greatness, oh no Amber… I’m here to inform you that your days as Sin City Wrestling World Bombshell Champion are over… I’m not even entertaining the point that there is a countdown… as far I can see it, you’re on borrowed time as is.” I snarl.
Looking down the lens of the camera, I flick a long lock of my black hair over my shoulder just getting comfortable.
“It's probably frowned upon to be this buoyant, but I refuse to bite my tongue when it comes the truth. It’s just lucky for you Amber I have the fucking lady balls to say what I really want to fucking say to you, instead of behind your back. I’m sure you can see the respect in that…” a playful wink.
Maybe I am just like Evie, who likes to play with her food before consuming it? Licking my lips again I pull my right thumb into the palm of my hand and crack the knuckle. Seven beautiful times.
“I even suspect that what the higher ups thought they could hear the fading ticking of your reign and that’s why your pretty little championship isn’t on the line this week. It was risk they couldn’t give… because they knew I would have snatched it with both fucking hands. I would have made an example out of you, and I would have steam rolled the Queenpin and taken the crown… but it’s okay Amber, we’ll have that dance another day… soon… so soon enough... that I’m begging you to hold onto your championship till after the Blast from the Past tournament because prying it from your brittle dead hands, is what excites me.. it’s what drives me… it’s what’s guiding me through this tournament…” I pause.
I tell no lies, but I needed to silence to drive my point home. I needed Amber to hear me.
“I came here to face the best in the world and at the time of the ink drying on the paper I wasn’t overly disappointed but since witnessing firsthand how compliant and how vacant the bombshell roster is with carbon copies for champions, I can tell you… it’s fucking upsetting… it’s disgusting and if I have to stir the pot, then so fucking be it.” A slight chuckle leaves my lips.
I have to keep talking, in fear that if I stop the python that normally surrounds my throat will constrict pulling me back to silence. I close my eyes remembering the steps, pushing past my history so I can recreate my future.
“Write me off as an over confident rookie, I dare you Amber, but I can promise you from here on out I’ll be a on your radar… I just won’t be the blimp you were praying for. I’ll be the one to slaughter the Queenpin, not just for the crown, but so I can stand back and tell the world that I fucking told you so. I’m a greedy bitch, never satisfied and always hungry and what I want right now, is to right my wrongs from last week and put myself back on track. And I always get what I want, one way or another… so while you sit upon your perch your royal highness, need I remind you… being at the top of the world doesn’t mean anything, unless you know what it’s like to be at the bottom… and the depths of hell that I’ve been through, make yours look like a playground. So take your final moments, waving to your subjects, because the view is always good at the top… until it isn’t…” a wild smirk.
I normally hate being over the top, but there is something about the rush of chasing down the Sin City Wrestling World Bombshell Championship that has me salivating.
“This week is the week your reign takes a tumble. See regardless of being the current champion, that isn’t going to save you or Hitamashi that isn’t going to be your get our of this match sweat free card. This weekend you’ll taste a defeat and regardless of if it’s your shoulders or Hitamashi’s shoulders pinned to the canvas… you’ll have to live with the fact that your armour will now bare a dint. Your perfect run will be ruined with an imperfection and what is the weight of that going to cost you Amber? You seem like a perfectionist… so what happens once that dream run is ripped from your grasp? I pray to fucking god it’s chaos… and I pray you bring it to my doorstep because I’ll be more than willing to come face to face with you once more… as the spoils of winning the Bast from the Past or just because you find within yourself to be willing face me one on one… I promise you standing across from me in the ring this week, is going to make you wish you could tuck your royal gown between your legs and hightail it away from me.” A little chuckle, brings me a pause.
I take a moment or seven, I don’t need to get carried away even if my urges are tempting me to.
“A storm cloud is brewing above you Amber and there is NOTHING you can do, all you can do is pray that you can wait it out, but the damage will already be done this Sunday night at Climax Control. Jaycee and I will defeat you and Hitamashi and we’ll move onto the next round of the tournament and while you think that won’t affect you… I can guarantee it will eat you alive knowing that you weren’t good enough to stop the inevitable… because your shoulders or not, you allowed a loss… you let a victory slip between your fingers and what will that say about the unstoppable?” I pause.
Clicking my tongue off my teeth before I look down the lens of the camera, I commit to one of my final blows.
“It will say that the unstoppable can be stopped… and what do they say about momentum? Momentum demands movement.” Another pause.
Sucking in my cheeks I stiffen the urge to laugh. I need my words to sink in to everyone watching at home, so they know I mean business and that my slip up last Sunday was nothing more than a once off.
“Now Hitamashi I would entertain you, but let’s be honest I don’t even know what the fuck you are. Are you a cartoon character? Are you something that kids throw red and white balls at in attempts to catch? Regardless the sentiment is the same… you’ll be no match for Jaycee MacDonald… because the world saw how focused my tag team partner was last week. Were just two rookies trying to make a name for ourselves… so what makes you think that your non exciting ass will put a stop to us? When was the last time you did anything remotely worthy of anyone’s attentions?”
I don’t even know Hitamashi, but I hate him. Why? Because he is competition that I can’t control. I close my eyes letting that thought go, as I put my trust in Jaycee to hold up his end of the deal.
“So do try and hold onto any last shred of significance you have Hitamashi because I can promise you on Sunday night your grip won’t be enough to even remotely stay in the game. Your fate has been sealed at the hands of Jaycee. And I for one can’t wait to watch on from the side lines and witness my partner put you back on the fucking shelves of irrelevance. You thought the Blast from the Past was going to be easy for you, I’m sure… you would ride the coat tails of your partner… I’m sure you thought you hit the jackpot with your Blast from the Past partner being the World Bombshell Champion… but I’m sorry to inform you that second division isn’t the main prize.” I hiss.
Rolling my head on my neck from side to side, I sigh I hate boring and predictable and Hitamashi seems like the poster boy for that campaign. Turning my attention back towards the camera I smile.
“And the main prize… is the winning combination of Jaycee MacDonald and Levana Cade.”
I smile brightly and with that all the said and done. I take my leave from the small room making a silent vow to never lock myself away again. It’s my time to take part in the light of day and it’s my time to have my name in the shining lights… because there’s no greater payback than success. Plus if these shoulders can handle the weight of past, they sure as hell can handle the pressures of my future.
Fade to black.
