Dearest Celeste,
There is nothing I hate more than people who victimize themselves. It's one thing when people are actually a victim of something but another entirely when they use it to have people feel sorry for them.
SCW is a hotbed of people complaining about the wrongs done to them. I mean you are a prime example of that.
Celeste North. The poor little rock star's daughter. Who was neglected and got into trouble because she had such a horrible childhood. Pfft.
You act like your story is some sob one. That we should all cry for you. Oh boo hoo, the mean girls fucked with me again. Oh boo hoo, I got mommy issues. Oh boo hoo I’m not getting title opportunities. Just shut up. Seriously.
Maybe this match doesn’t mean anything to you Celeste but oh it means a whole lot to me. You see, every single person I take out on my journey to the top is significant. No name is meaningless. And You really should be happy that I am going to add you to my list of names. Because you might just get that relevancy you desire. You are way more relevant than Twisted sister and I beat her. And maybe to you, Sam Marlowe is more relevant but to me, no ONE person in this company is more relevant than another. They are all just names on my list. As these names add up, it will be the number that becomes more important, not the names. Names fade. People change them. People Change.
Except you Celeste. You do the same song and dance every single time. You have this sorta... Manic depressive, bi-polar thing going on. And that... is the real reason that you are falling down this ladder you invented for yourself. It’s not the owners pushing you back down, it’s YOU.
You sabotage yourself and I know I haven’t been here pretty long but I’m going to guess that this song and dance is one that a lot of people have already memorized. That they chalk it up to one of those adages of being a “celeste thing” and probably can mouth the words and mimic the steps... Am I correct?
That’s another strike for you darling.
I have no desire to give you any more reasons for you to OD on pills and drown in your bathtub like so many other diva’s out there. My only desire is to beat your pathetic whiney ass and move on. You may not have any problems with me Sweetie, and I don’t technically have any personal problems with you but I do have a problem with people that try to garner sympathy without any real reason to get it. You see... that shit that happened with your mom... that shit that happened with you not getting your shots and whatever else... you need to get over it. Pick yourself back up from the ashes of whatever this... persona thing you’re doing is and then Move. ON. Period. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that life is too short to live with regrets?
We are all given a hand in life and you can either choose to play the cards you have and risk going bust, or you can keep drawing from the pile until you get the hand you want. I want to be a title holder here in SCW. I want to get a Triple crown status and getting that isn’t like what you said, it isn’t giving blowjobs behind the scenes. It’s not being part of some dinosaur of a stable with a nasty looking T-rex trying to pull the strings on the stegosauruses.
I learned a long time ago that stables like the Mean Girls? Well they lose power the moment you stop giving it to them and what they want is for girls like you to be miserable and talk about how you’re this nobody and everyone should feel sad for you. I’m not going to give you a damn thing except maybe when I beat you, it will some knock some sense into that stupid bratty head of yours.
You want to be recognized than stop saying you're a nobody. Because I certainly know that I’m a somebody. Are you a somebody? You can’t complain about people calling you a nobody when you call yourself a nobody. But who am I? Who is that person?
Pay very close attention sweetheart. I’m about to show the whole world who Chelsea Payne is. Every match I win is like another piece of that puzzle.
But don’t worry.. It’s only a small puzzle... I know that people with limited intelligence have trouble with the big ones. So here is another piece. And before long Celeste, you’ll be wishing you took my advice when I’m sitting at the top while you’re still blaming others for your... slippery ladder.
But you take care of yourself sweetie and don’t go nursing those wounds with something that is going to put you right back in rehab. I would rather not have a forfeit win.
All my best,
Chelsea
***
“Have you called him?” The voice on the other end of the phone is that of my brother. Not the one everyone knows... no. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to talk about what happened New Years with Emilio. He’s got a big mouth. No. This was my ‘little’ brother Mateo. Although he wasn’t so little. Older by only 11 months, we were practically twins, but he was taller and more muscular. He was even bigger than my father but that wasn’t saying much. He took after our Maternal grandfather who was well over 6’5. Although Mateo was not that tall, he was still the tallest Pina man in a long line of Pina men.
“No. Well, yes but not to talk about...”
“Him kissing you?” He snickers. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him although it was kinda hard to do that when he was presently in Orlando and I was in New York.
“Yes.”
“Well... Why not? It’s about time you actually opened up and went on a date with someone. I was getting worried. Like maybe you were one of those weird new sexual orientations where you were in love with yourself or something. Or that maybe you were a secret lesbian...”
I facepalm. I was sitting in my room. Which was gorgeous in its design, thanks to me because I have excellent taste, afterall.
“I’m not a lesbian Mats. And I am just... selective okay? I like him. I just...”
“Afraid to get hurt again? In all honesty, it’s kinda a blessing in disguise that Taylor Darlington left. You would have been completely miserable. He would have been a man whore and having to deal with a mistake like Dad’s.”
I have to sigh . Mateo did care about Emilio, he just... was a little rougher around the edges. Like Dad. And it took a lot for him to show real affection for anyone. I was kinda the exception to that but I think it’s because fora long time, were were all we had. Our mother was the socialite that hired a nanny to raise us. Our father was an aging professional wrestler who spent more time away from home than at home. It really wasn’t surprising when they got divorced only three years into their marriage. And Susan, our step-mother was actually a decent human being. Even if she did have the intelligence of a cocker spaniel.
“Emilio isn’t a mistake. A mistake is someone like my opponent.”
Mats chuckles.
“I heard. Just another easy pick off Chels. You got this. But in the meantime, call him. Tell him that you like him.”
I shake my head even though he can’t see it on the other end of the phone.
“I’m not saying it first. No way. That’s suicide and I don’t do that. But I’ll see him at the KCW show. Maybe we can... talk there. He doesn’t have a match.”
“You better or I’m going to get his number from Emilio and call him myself. You need to get over this shit with Taylor. You know you give your opponent shit for holding on to stuff from her past when you’re just a big hypocrite.”
“On the contrary little brother, there is nothing BIG about me. I am perfection in a petite package.”
He laughs.
“I mean it though. I think talking to him and maybe going out again... that’s going to be the key to putting all that shit permanently behind you. But I gotta go. Grampa has another meeting for me to oversee. I hate being the only boy in like two generations that can be his protege.”
“Buck up. It could be worse. You could be training with Dad.”
He lets out a noise that I always described as being eerily similar to a dying rodent. A high pitched whining. THankfully it never lasted very long.
“No thanks. Wrestling is your thing, not mine although I would rather be doing ANYTHING else than this. I’ll call you later and good luck on Sunday. You know I'm your biggest fan.”
I smile. He was the best brother... not to say that Emilio wasn’t making up for all this faults but Mats... he and I had that bond that no one could replicate.
I hang up and see my half open closet. I get up, going to it I see the perfect outfit I could wear at the compound. The perfect thing to really impress. Not just Coby but maybe turn a few other heads too. I mean isn’t that what Valet’s were supposed to do? Distract?
