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Chapter 69: How it started vs how it’s going

I had known him for a while. Finn Whelan. He and I had become friends. Not best friends, and we weren’t super close, but we knew each other. It was something that my boyfriend at the time, Billy Danielson, hated. He was insecure. And because of that, he would gaslight me if I had a male friend. It was something I hated. Eventually, we came to a breaking point. Billy and I broke up.

And no sooner had I been lamenting the fact I had another failed relationship than I got a phone call.

It was Finn.

He called to make sure I was alright. And in the same breath, he asked if I wanted to come out for a couple of drinks to drown my sorrows. We were both in New York. And I figured, why not? So there I was, after I’d spent the entire day trying to find things to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t think about the fact I had failed yet again at trying to make a man happy enough that he wouldn’t turn into a complete dick, now scrambling around wondering what I should wear.

After all, I had no idea what exactly this was. At least at the time.

I wondered if I should just go out in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, a pair of Converse and maybe a leather jacket. Or maybe a nice little black dress,tight, hugging my curves, something that would make my body look irresistible. But then again, all this was going to be was drinks between two friends, right? Or could it have been something more? Was Billy right in being worried?

I remember standing in front of my mirror, making the decision that I was going to doll myself up. Not so much for Finn, but for myself, to feel more like me. I slid on the little black dress, the bottom part cut so high on my thighs I had to be careful if I sat down or bent over. The top had a plunging neckline that made the twins pop. I took a deep breath as I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I looked great.

I did my hair, did my makeup, and stood in front of the mirror again to make sure everything looked perfect. And on the outside, at least in my eyes, it did. But I also knew, deep down, that I was far from it. I felt like a failure. Even though I was trying to maintain an aura of confidence with what I was wearing and my attitude, I also felt deep down that this was going to be nothing. Finn and I were only ever going to be friends. And that’s honestly what I thought when I left my apartment that day to go have drinks with him.

”I both love and hate this event.”

I folded my arms over my chest. Walking around the deck of the cruise ship was always an interesting experience whenever we had Summer XXXTreme. Every year, we’d get a free holiday on a cruise ship, but we had to share it with not only all the idiots we worked with but also all of the fans. It was designed to give fans of the company access to its stars and allow them to spend time with us, ask questions, create a sense of community. It was a way for the company, and the stars, to say thank you for all the support these people gave us. But at the same time…

I hated spending time with them.

Finn walked next to me, his arm now out of the sling, wearing only a supportive brace under his shirt and jacket. He still wasn’t in the clear and was nowhere near ready to come back, but it was an encouraging sign. And I have to admit, the fact he was now able to wrap his arms around me made me feel a lot better too. ”I barely like turning up to an arena and dealing with the people we work with. Being trapped on a cruise ship with them for over a week isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

Finn chuckled. I knew what amused him when I went on these rants. He usually felt very similarly to me, but he wouldn’t vocalize it. He would internalize his annoyance at having to deal with people he hated and carry a silent rage behind his eyes. My discontentment was a lot more visceral. ”Try to look on the good side. We get to bring a whole bunch of our friends who aren’t even in the company. Because Amelia is here, Dickie is here. And because Aiden is here, Dax and Kallie are here…” I groaned and rolled my eyes.

”I could do without the Australian. The male Australian. Amelia is alright, I guess. And your brother… Well, the less said about him right now, the better.” We continued walking across the deck and inside the large shopping mall onboard. I could smell food being cooked by the various vendors and saw, out of the corner of my eye, perfume and jewelry shops. The wonders of being able to buy things duty-free on the open ocean.

”Honestly? It’s been good for Dickie to get away from it all. He needed to come out and just be himself, away from all the expectations being put on him.”

”And the expectations he’s putting on you to help him.”

My words came with a level of venom I don’t think Finn was ready for. We kept walking side by side, and after a few tense moments of silence, I felt it, his hand slid down and interlocked with mine, our fingers twisting together. I smiled slowly and shook my head. He turned and stood in front of me, leaning down to give me a small kiss. I took a deep breath, and when my eyes opened, I narrowed them because I knew exactly what he was doing. ”That’s a dirty trick, and you know it.”

He shrugged as we continued walking. I tried to calm myself down, but I was still angry. And of course, Finn picked up on it.

”He… you know he’s the only family I really have left. We don’t see my parents much. I’ve lost other people. If having his back is going to make sure he’s safe, then that’s what I have to do, Kayla.”

I took a deep breath. I felt my eye twitch. I knew he was right, but I also needed to let him know how I felt about the whole situation. ”I get that. I do. But you need to understand my point of view. You’re trying to make sure nothing happens to him. But I’m worried something’s going to happen to you. And look, I like Dickie....but I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you, and I don’t want you dragged back into this fucking life.” We turned the corner, heading down one of the boulevards inside the ship toward a few more shops. I growled and continued. ”I just worry. And I also hate the fact that after you got out of it, your brother dove headfirst back in and then dragged you along. What kind of sibling who supposedly cares about you does that? If I got out of something and my sister went back into it and then tried to pull me in, I’d be pissed off.”

I didn’t even realize where we were going. We had taken a right turn into the EFFY shop onboard. I was surrounded by jewelry, but I wasn’t expecting what was about to happen.

”Pick a ring…”

”What do you mean, pick a ring? From where? From what part?”

Finn smiled and shook his head, hovering his hand over the large glass case containing engagement rings. He lightly placed his hand on the case and tilted his head.

”From these ones.”

My heart skipped a beat. Everything I wanted to say and had been ranting about vanished. My hands shook slightly as I looked down at the case, lit by bright white lights making the diamonds sparkle. I bit my bottom lip and tilted my head before settling on a ring in the dead center. I pointed at it and looked up at Finn, saying only two words.

”That one…”

My voice was barely a whisper. Finn gave a small nod and walked over to one of the attendants. He started talking to her before pulling out his Visa card, smiling and joking with them. I stood there in the middle of the shop, locked in shock. My heart beat so fast it felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. But I couldn’t help but smile. My cheeks flushed red as I saw the ring taken out of the case. The rest of it was a blur. But all I could think was, all those years ago, when he invited me out for a drink to lament a failed relationship… how wrong I was about what this was going to be.

Happy surprises and all that…

Expectation vs Reality

”I’m not mad, just disappointed…”

Kayla sighs, leaning back against the bar in her cabin aboard the cruise ship. Her long hair flows down her shoulders, her body covered in loose-fitting, holiday-style clothes as she looks relaxed.

”You know, I remember hearing that phrase from my parents when I was younger. Coming from my father, it was always taken with a grain of salt, considering he was an abusive piece of shit who didn’t know how to treat his wife or his children. But it was a lot more cutting coming from my mother. Disappointing her was something I never wanted to do. And if I heard that phrase, I knew I was in trouble. The thing is, in this context, I don’t expect you to give a shit, Frankie. Your arrogance has been shining through for the better part of two months since you stepped foot in this company, and we’ve all had to deal with your arrogant, self-righteous attitude.”

“Before I get into the hows and whys, I need you to understand something. See, I’ve been painted as a horrible person. Most people look at me and see someone who only cares about herself and is out for number one. And part of that is certainly true, I care about myself above all others. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about anyone. I care about my friends. I care about my family. I care about the people I’ve known for years who’ve always had my back. But I’m one of the only people in the world who will freely admit that, when it comes down to it, I hold myself above all others…”

“And that doesn’t make me a horrible person. It makes me a realist.”

“Everyone else is so quick to lie. They’re so quick to tell everybody that they’d do anything for their loved ones and their friends. That they put others above themselves. And while I’ll always have my friends’ and family’s backs, and I’ll always tell them how I feel, I’m not someone who needs to put that out there every five seconds. I’m out for myself. And in this business, that just leads to success. It’s something I see in you, Frankie. But while I freely admit it and see it as a strength, you seem to believe it’s a weakness. Like my arrogance is some kind of exploit to be attacked.”

“Oh, sweet summer child…”

She chuckles and shakes her head.

“Your inexperience is showing. And yes, I said inexperience. Something you seem to think doesn’t matter. I know what you’re doing. You sit there trying to tell me about my own strengths, then say they’re meaningless. You’re trying to play both sides of the same argument. It’s something so many others have done, and they’ve done it way better than you. You come off disingenuous. It’s really weird how you admit you’re not on my level, then talk down to me like you know what I’ve done and what it’s like to be me.”

“Like your heavy lifting comments. Bitch, what would you know about heavy lifting? You run me down like I haven’t been doing it for the last three years in this company. Heavy lifting is being a champion. Heavy lifting is knowing the entire division is coming after you and there’s nothing you can do about it except fight them off. Heavy lifting is being on top of the mountain and making sure no one can push you off. You’ve never been to the top of the mountain, you don’t know what it’s like. And for you to act like you do? It’s pathetic.”

“That tag match we had was a test. Our opponents were never going to beat us. The end result was about how you were going to frame it.”

“You keep acting like you were doing everything in that match despite the fact that if you go back and watch it, we were both clearly doing everything. It was 50/50. And that’s me being nice to you. But here’s the problem with you. You’re trying to shit on my entire career by saying that if you beat me, it means nothing. My career is bigger than this company. My career is bigger than what I’ve done here. And you think if I lose to you, it’ll invalidate everything? How big of a star do you believe yourself to be?”

She throws her arms in the air and keeps pacing back and forth.

“Or is it because you’re not a star? Is that what it is? You believe that because you’re not the biggest star in the world, and you’ve gotten to this point with your streak and your tournament win, that beating me will somehow make you? That it’ll destroy my legacy? That’s not just disrespectful to me and this title—it’s disrespectful to professional wrestling itself. That’s rookie logic, and it shows where your head’s at. Amber Ryan should’ve taught you better. But then again, considering she’s an egomaniacal moron who left this company when she thought she had nothing else to accomplish… the apple doesn’t fall far from the conceited prick tree.”

“Just like how you think the World Bombshells Championship defines me in this company. You really think I’m only relevant because this championship is around my waist? The title has never made the person. The person makes the title. Look at everyone who’s held it—and tell me the names that stand out.”

“Crystal Hilton. Mercedes Vargas. Seleana Zdunich…”

“Those names mean nothing. And they all held this championship. The title is never what defines you. And that’s something you need to learn, because you’re obsessed with it. You’re obsessed with this title because deep down, you know winning it is the only way you’ll ever matter in this business. But what defines Frankie? You brag about your win streak, five and oh. You think that means something? Look at my record. 44 wins out of 51 matches. Kid, that’s a record to be proud of. Not 5–0.”

“Your undefeated streak is impressive—but it’s not what defines your future. Being undefeated is a pipe dream. No one is unbeatable. I’ve proven that. Even your mentor Amber Ryan should know that. I see your little interactions with her on X. She might’ve been a great champion, and you might want to follow in her footsteps—but the path to relevance isn’t paved with kissing someone’s ass and hoping for the best.”

Kayla shakes her head and looks over at the SCW World Bombshells Championship sitting to her left.

“Oh wait, there I go being a narcissist and a sociopath. It’s funny, you Googled some personality traits and thought you could psychoanalyze me like that was going to work. I’m not some diagnosis you can throw out there. I’m the champion you’re going to fail to beat. But you? It’s funny people try to pigeonhole me as this narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself, while you sit there and tell people they’ll thank you later, like you’ve got a savior complex. Like you’re some wrestling messiah being held above everyone else. The second coming of your fucking mentor.”

“The saddest part, Frankie, is that you are talented. You could be a great champion in the future. You could be the future of this division. But not now. You’re not ready. And everything you said last week proves that. You think your little win streak means you’ve earned this. That you beating me erases everything I’ve done. That this championship will make you matter. But it’s the other way around.”

“So let me ask you something—what happens if you win?”

“Being a real champion means facing adversity. I have. I’ve been beaten and come back stronger than ever. But you’ve never had to feel that. You think it’s a positive that you’ve never lost in this company? That you get to wave your undefeated record around like it means something? You know what really means something, Frankie? Coming back. Getting beaten. Losing everything. Picking yourself up and fighting to get it all back. That’s what matters.”

“You’ve never felt that before. So I’m going to give you that gift, Frankie. I’m going to give you the gift of defeat. So you’ll know what it’s like. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll come back better. Ready to actually be a champion.”

“I’m giving that to you out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Thank me later, bitch…”
2
Supercard Roleplays / First RP Deadline Has Passed
« Last post by Christian Underwood on Today at 12:11:01 AM »
Everything posted after this message counts towards week 2.
3
Las Vegas – Centennial Medical Center

The smell of antiseptic hit Miles Kasey the moment he stepped off the elevator. That sterile, metallic tang that clung to the walls and the floors and the inside of his throat. He adjusted the straps of the baseball cap pulled low over his brow and gave a polite nod to the nurse at the station, who waved him toward Room 312.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since he pulled Kevin out of hell and into this place of humming fluorescent lights and soft-voiced nurses. Two weeks of tests, clean-up and therapy and a massive amount of cautious recovery.

And one week since Kevin had refused to see him.

Miles hesitated outside the door, hand hovering over the handle. He exhaled sharply, steeling himself, then pushed inside. Kevin sat on the edge of the bed, a tray table in front of him with a half-eaten bowl of soup and some crackers. His hair was freshly washed, falling in lank brown strands around his face. The shadows under his eyes were still there, but he looked… lighter, somehow.

Kevin glanced up—and for a moment, he looked like he might tense up again. But then his expression shifted, and he let out a breath, “Hey, Miles.”

“Hey, kid.” Miles kept his voice gentle, eyes scanning Kevin’s face for any sign of distress. He approached the bed, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, "You’re looking a bit better. Is the soup any good?”

Kevin shrugged, poking at the crackers, "A lot better than the stuff they tried to give me the first week. Some weird ass shakes because they weren’t sure if I was being fully truthful about the last time I really ate. That shit tasted like wet cardboard in can form. Actually threw one of them at someone.”

Miles cracked a small grin, "I’ll have to sneak you in something better next time. Maybe some In-N-Out, make sure you tell me your favs before I leave.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Kevin’s face, but then his eyes dropped. He picked at a loose thread on his blanket, “Look about last week...” Kevin’s voice was low, almost swallowed up by the steady beep of the machines, "I’m sorry I told you and your brother...what was his name again? LJ! That’s it. I’m sorry I told LJ to fuck off. I was having a really bad day, not even sure what or who I was that day.”

Miles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Kev, you don’t gotta apologize for that, not to me. And not to LJ. We both know that you’ve been through enough to earn a few bad days.”

“Still Miles, just do me a fav,” Kevin swallowed, his voice tight, "Tell him I’m sorry, yeah? LJ, I mean.”

“I will.” Miles nodded firmly, "He gets it. We both do, trust me.”

Kevin fell silent for a while, tracing patterns on the sheet with his fingertip. Miles waited, patient, not pushing. Finally, Kevin let out a shaky sigh, “So, now that I seem to be under a bit of control, let me guess why you are here. You wanna know why I couldn’t stay with my dad..when I went back to LA.” It wasn’t a question.

Miles didn’t move, "Only if you’re ready, mate.”

Kevin stared down at the blanket, words tumbling out soft and uneven, "He...he didn’t hit me or anything. He didn’t have to. I think....I think I’d almost prefer it if he did. Then at least I’d know what to expect. But he’d look at me like...like I was a stain. Like I’d fucked everything up just by existing. Like he wanted me gone but didn’t have the balls to say it. I got back from my first time leaving, and he’d come home and...I don’t know, he’d just pretend that I wasn’t there. Or he’d scream at me for leaving, that’d usually come after he came home from drinking. He would call me a liar, a thief, a disappointment. It got really bad when my little brother said it was my fault mom is in prison. He wouldn’t say it but dad never denied it when he said it, he looked at me like it was my fault he lost everything. After a while, I started to believe him.”

His voice cracked on that last sentence, eyes blinking furiously to keep tears at bay. Miles felt something splinter in his chest.

“Kevin, none of what happened to your mom, that’s not on you.” Miles’s voice was rough, "Not one fuckin’ bit of it. You hear me?”

Kevin gave a tiny nod but didn’t look up, "Well, it didn’t help any that what really set the whole thing off was my little brother was really on me one day. Screaming at me, just because he needed someone to scream at. Then he started going off about how he heard things about what I did when I took off the first time. He used the same word that mom used when she was screeching about you and Carter. Next thing I know, I punched him, right in the nose. Blood gushed everywhere, dad had to drive him to the hospital, CPS got called because dad still smelled like alcohol and when they pointed the finger at me...well they saw me as a threat to both of my brother and sister. After that, I went back home, grabbed what I could and just took off.”

He glanced over to Miles who sat there, soaking every piece of it in, “I fell right into it. They wanted to get rid of me because I was close with you and they just wanted someone to blame...and I let them. I’m just apparently meant to ruin everyone’s life.”

Miles reached across the tray and gently nudged Kevin’s hand.

“Listen to me, kid. I don’t give a shit what your da said. You didn’t ruin anyone’s life and you deserve better than all of this. And I know you think I can’t do anything, but I’m gonna try anyway. I’m stubborn like that.”

Kevin finally lifted his gaze, eyes bloodshot but fierce, "Even if there’s nothing left to fix?”

Miles stared at him dead-on, unwavering, "Then I’ll find you something new. A new start. A new home. A new chance. Whatever it takes.”

Kevin huffed a shaky breath that might’ve been a laugh, "You sound like a bloody superhero.”

Miles smirked, "Nah, superheroes wear tights. I’ve just got a big mouth and a hard head.”

Kevin wiped at his eyes, looking away toward the window, "I dunno, man. Part of me thinks it’d be easier to just disappear and not have to deal with any of it.”

Miles sat back, folding his arms, "Yeah, well. I’m not gonna let you disappear again, because you deserve a life, Kev. And I’m gonna help you find it, whether you like it or not. I did want to let you know though, that on Sunday we’re going to be gone for about a week or so on the Summer Xxxtreme cruise, but I will make sure that the nurses and doctors have mine and Carter’s numbers, if at anytime you just wanna call and bullshit, as long as we’re not working, we’ll be there. A’ight?”

Kevin went quiet again, the weight of everything still pressing down but somehow a little lighter, “A’ight...mate”

Miles laughed and then glanced at the soup, "Eat some more, yeah? You’re still lookin’ like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

Kevin rolled his eyes but picked up his spoon, "Alright, alright. Just no more cardboard protein drinks.”

Miles let out a soft laugh, the sound echoing in the sterile room, and sat there while Kevin ate, determined to keep being the stubborn bastard who refused to let him go.

“By the way Miles?” Kevin said between sips.

“Yeah, mate?”

“Don’t you wear tights when you wrestle?”


Los Angeles – Late Afternoon

Hank Chapman’s house sat on a narrow street in East LA, just another sunbaked single-story with peeling paint and a lawn littered with plastic toys. Miles Kasey stood on the cracked walkway, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stared at the door.

He’d driven all night from Vegas, replaying every word Kevin had told him. The way the kid’s voice had gone small and tight. The way he kept saying it’s my fault. Miles wasn’t the kind of man who let things lie. And he sure as hell wasn’t letting this one go.

He rapped his knuckles against the door—hard. A moment later it cracked open, revealing Hank Chapman. Hank looked older than his forty-some years, sun-worn and hollow-eyed, wearing a grease-stained mechanic’s shirt unbuttoned over a white tee. His expression flickered from confusion to annoyance the second he saw Miles.“…Can I help you?”

Miles offered him a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, "Yeah, Hank. Remember me? Miles Kasey. The husband of the man your now ex-wife tried to have killed? OH and the newest thing, I’m the one who pulled your 16-year-old son outta the gutter in Vegas.”

Hank’s face tightened, "I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Miles barked out a dry laugh, "Oh, don’t fuckin’ play dumb with me, mate. Kevin. Your son. Sixteen years old. Brown hair, brown eyes, weighs about as much as a wet towel because he’s been starved and trafficked for half a year.”

Hank swallowed, "I said I don’t know...”

“Cut the shit, Hank!” Miles snapped, voice sharp enough to slice skin, "Your kid nearly died. He’s been in the hospital for two fuckin’ weeks and will probably be there for another four, trying to remember what it’s like not to sleep with one eye open. And where the fuck were you, huh? Watching TV? Getting laid? Working on your piece-of-shit car? Because let me tell you something, I was the one holding a bucket while your boy threw up half his organs. I was the one sitting with him at three in the morning because he couldn’t close his eyes without screaming. So don’t stand there and act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

A woman’s voice floated in from the hallway behind Hank, "Baby, who is it?”

Miles leaned sideways, peering past Hank. A tall, slender woman with bleached blonde hair and a smirk plastered across her lips came into view. She wore cut-off shorts and a tank top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination and a swirling tattoo exposed on her shoulder.

“Oh,” she said, looking Miles up and down, "So you’re the guy sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Got sick and tired of blowing up his phone huh?”

Miles tilted his head, eyes narrowing, "And you must be the new Missus. Or is it just a hobby for you, wreckin’ families for sport?”

“Fuck you, asshole,” she snapped.

Miles ignored her entirely and pinned Hank with a glare, "Kevin’s sixteen, Hank. He’s still a kid. A kid who ran away twice because he’d rather sleep under neon lights in Fremont than spend five minutes in this house.”

Hank opened his mouth, shut it again. His shoulders hunched a little, "You don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Save it,” Miles growled, stepping forward until they were chest to chest, "I know exactly how hard it’s been. And you know what? I don’t give a shit how hard it was for you. Your boy came back here. He tried to stay and what’d you do? You shoved him right back out the door. And why? Because Blondie over there couldn’t handle him bein’ around?”

Blondie scoffed, "He broke his little brother’s nose after the kid called him a...”

“I know EXACTLY what name he was called, you do not need to repeat it.” Miles snarled in her direction.

That caused yet another scoff “That kid’s a fuckin’ mess. Bringing all kinds of trouble. He’s better off...”

“He’s better off without you.” Miles rounded on her, eyes blazing, "He’s better off without a house where he gets treated like fuckin’ cancer. And don’t you ever talk about him like that again.”

Blondie bristled, but Hank held up a hand, "Look...man, Karen, Kevin’s mom, she fucked everything up for what she did to your husband. She went to prison, destroyed our family, left me with three kids and no money. I’ve been working double shifts, tryin’ to keep food on the table. Kevin, he wasn’t the same when he came back. Always angry. Always quiet. And...and he looked at me like I was the enemy.”

Miles’ voice dropped dangerously soft, "Because you are, Hank. You left him out there to die.”

Hank’s jaw tightened, "I can’t help him.”

Miles stared at him, a muscle ticking in his cheek, "No. You won’t. So let me make this simple for you, yeah? You don’t have to worry about Kevin anymore. I’m gonna make sure that boy’s got a roof over his head, food in his belly, and people around him who don’t treat him like garbage. He’s my responsibility now. And one day, you’re gonna have to look him in the eye and explain why you couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck.”

Blondie rolled her eyes, "You think you’re some big hero...”

Miles pointed a finger at her, pure steel in his voice, "Shut. The fuck. Up. I’m fairly certain I can go down the block into the corner mart and run into at least 10 guys you’ve fucked.”

He looked back at Hank, all pretense of calm gone, "Enjoy your shiny new life, mate. Kevin’s not your problem anymore. Considering you went from living in a condo to living the slums, I say that I’m probably doing you a big favour anyways. Get yourself straighten up, get your shit together, do whatever you want. But let me tell you one last thing, if you ever try to come sniffin’ around him, for a handout or some fake reconciliation so you can look good? You will find out exactly why I let the police handle that bitch of an ex-wife of yours, because I will bury you so deep the world’ll still be diggin’ you up in ten years.”

He shoved past Hank, storming down the cracked walkway to his Jeep.

Behind him, Hank just stood there on the porch, silent and small, while the new girlfriend sputtered curses into the dusty LA breeze.

Miles didn’t look back because Miles didn’t give a fuck.


Las Vegas – Turnberry Towers – Late Night

The city glowed outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, streaks of the neon electric blue and pink washing across the living room walls. Inside, the condo was quiet except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional honk from traffic far below.

Miles stood at the kitchen island, gripping the edge so hard his knuckles were white. A half-empty glass of water sat ignored beside him. His hair was damp from a shower, the dark curls that Carter loves so much, hanging in his eyes. He stared down at the countertop, chest rising and falling in short, frustrated breaths.

Carter entered the room in sweatpants and a loose tank, fresh from the bedroom. He paused in the doorway, reading the tension in every line of Miles’ body.

“Alright, Milo talk to me,” Carter said softly, "You’ve been pacing the floors like a tiger all night.”

Miles swallowed hard, jaw working. For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then, he sucked in a sharp breath and let it all pour out, "You haven’t called me that in, I don’t know how long. I’m sorry love, I- I feel like my brain’s runnin’ at fuckin’ Mach Jesus,” he burst out, "Everything’s just spinning.”

He lifted his hands, fingers splayed, like he might tear his hair out.

“I keep thinkin’ about Kevin, about the look on his face when he said he couldn’t go back to his dad’s. I keep hearin’ how small his voice sounded when he apologized to me. He’s sixteen, Carter. Sixteen. And he’s already talkin’ like the world’s too heavy for him.”

Carter stepped closer but stayed silent, letting him vent.

Miles dropped his gaze to the countertop. His voice wavered, “And it’s messin’ with me, babe. Because I keep thinkin’...fuck...” Miles' breath actually stuttered as he processed it all, “That was me, wasn’t it? Me and Bri and Mum when my old man just up and left. We were just kids and suddenly there was this giant hole in the world and we had to pretend we were fine, except we really weren’t. Kevin’s sittin’ there, starin’ at me with those eyes, and all I see is my own past starin’ back.”

Carter reached out, fingers brushing Miles’ forearm. Miles leaned into it, like a man drowning.

“And now...now I’ve got the fuckin’ Overboard Battle Royal comin’ up,” Miles said, voice growing sharper, “And all I keep thinkin’ is what if I win? What if this actually leads me to a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship? Because that’s the dream, right? That’s what we kill ourselves for.”

He let out a bitter laugh, "But what if it puts me right in your way?”

Carter’s brow furrowed, "Miles...”

“I know it’s wrestling. I know it’s business. But we both know how real that ring gets,” Miles said, his voice trembling, "And the idea of steppin’ into that ring and lookin’ across at you like that again. Fuck, love, it makes me sick. Because I’d want that title with every bit of me, but I’d never want to hurt you to get it. I’d never want to be the reason you lost somethin’ you fought so hard for. I did that once with Finn and I have lived to regret that every day since, ”

Carter sighed and pulled him closer, pressing his forehead to Miles’.

Miles kept going, voice raw, "And on top of it all, I’ve got this wild feeling that somethin’s about to go wrong. I can’t fuckin’ place it. But it’s like...there’s this storm comin’, and I can’t figure out where it’s gonna hit. And I’m just...so goddamn tired of feelin’ like I’m not enough to stop it.”

He blinked hard, fighting the sting behind his eyes, "I’m tired of feelin’ like I’m always fixin’ broken things, but never fixin’ myself.”

Carter held him tighter, "Miles...you’re not broken and you’re certainly not alone. You hear me? We’ll figure this out. Whatever comes, we’ll figure it out.”

Miles gave a shaky nod, burying his face briefly against Carter’s shoulder before straightening again, eyes red but fierce.

“Yeah,” he said, voice steadier, "We will. I just gotta get there first, don’t I?”

Carter cracked a grin through the worry, brushing Miles’ cheek with his thumb, "And I’d expect nothin’ less from my stubborn ass of a husband.”

Miles exhaled a rough laugh. He sagged a little against the counter, feeling like the weight on his shoulders had eased, just a fraction. And when Carter wrapped himself around him, he was able to release and wrap himself around Carter and just let time be.

-------

Las Vegas, NV — Miles Kasey’s Condo — Late Night

The condo was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional Vegas sirens wailing somewhere far below. Miles stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms folded, staring out at the neon-soaked city like it might hand him answers. His reflection in the glass looked older somehow, shadows under his eyes, his jaw working as if chewing over a thousand thoughts at once.

On the coffee table behind him, the SCW Summer Xxxtreme promotional poster sat half-rolled, six names scrawled in black Sharpie around his own. He turned away from the window, jaw setting, and crossed the room.

He dropped down onto the sofa, elbows on his knees, and glanced at the list one more time. Then he spoke into the silence, voice low and tight:

“You know,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder as if every man in this match was standing there with him, “I’ve been in this business long enough to know that opportunity doesn’t always knock politely. Sometimes it kicks your door in and dares you to do something about it.”

He straightened, rolling his shoulders, his gaze flinty.

“And that’s what this is, this right here, this match at Summer XXXTreme. It’s opportunity in its most brutal form. The kind that doesn’t give a toss about what you’ve been carrying or what you’ve survived to get here. It’s simple: you show up, or you get run over.”

He braced his forearms on the rail, voice low but certain.

“Eddie Lyons.”

A humorless smile flickered across his face. “Unbreakable Eddie Lyons.

I’m gonna start with you, mate, because I know the fire you’ve got inside. You and me, we’ve circled each other long enough. I’ve seen you in that ring give everything until your body’s screaming to quit—but sometimes, that’s not enough. Because fire alone doesn’t get it done. Precision gets it done. Experience. And I’ve got that in spades, Eddie. I respect you, but I’m not letting you walk out with that win. Not when I’m this close to getting back everything I’ve lost.”

He shifted forward, rolling his shoulders like loosening a pair of wings, eyes dropping to the next name.

“Mate, you were one of the first people to welcome me into SCW. You’ve been chasing validation ever since you dropped the Roulette title, and you’ve been so close—so many times—to proving you’re more than potential. You’re hungry, and I respect that, but you and I both know respect doesn’t get you shit when that bell rings. It’s about who has the will to dig deeper when everyone else is gassed out. And I promise you, Eddie, nobody is ready to dig deeper than I am right now.”

He tipped his head back, exhaling a slow, tired laugh.

“Aiden Reynolds.”

Miles’ expression darkened, the respect there—but tempered by something sharper. “Aiden Reynolds.

My own bloody teammate. My brother in Wolfslair.

And I know you’re probably sitting somewhere in your room right now thinking about how we’re going to tear each other apart on that boat. It’s what we do, yeah? We fight, we claw, we push each other to be better. And that’s what I expect from you at Summer Xxxtreme, mate. I expect the absolute best Aiden Reynolds there is. Because I’m bringing the absolute best Miles Kasey there’s ever been.

And I’m not sorry for what’s gonna happen. Because when that bell rings? It’s every man for himself. And I want that number one contendership more than I want the next breath in my chest.”

“Brother, you and I have fought side by side. We’ve trained together, bled together. But when it comes to that ring, there’s no sanctuary. You’re Wolfslair through and through, but I need you to understand something: I can’t afford to play nice. I’ve spent too long holding back to spare people’s feelings. This isn’t personal, Aiden—it’s survival. And if it comes down to you and me? I will do whatever I have to do.”

He paused, running his tongue over his teeth like tasting something bitter, before shifting his focus to the next name.

“Liam Davis.

I’ll admit, I don’t know you as well as some of the others in this match. But I’ve watched the tapes. I’ve seen you coming out swinging, trying to carve your name into the walls of SCW. I respect that hustle, mate. But you need to understand something: there’s a big difference between wanting it and knowing how to take it. And I’m not in the mood to let someone still finding their footing stand in my way. Not now. Not when everything I’m fighting for is on the line.”

Miles sighed, rubbing a palm over his mouth. He looked tired. But when he dropped his hand, the ice was back in his eyes.

“Justin Smith.

You’ve been talking a big game lately. I hear it. The bravado, the swagger, the chip on your shoulder. But here’s the thing, mate… talk only takes you so far. You can run your mouth all day long about being overlooked, about being the future—until you’re face to face with someone who’s been the present for a hell of a lot longer than you’ve even been in this business. You’re going to find out firsthand that there’s levels to this game. And I’m on a level you’re nowhere near ready for.”

Miles exhaled hard, like blowing out steam from a valve. He planted a finger on the poster right next to another name.

“I’ve had a hell of a year. Carter and I finally getting married, getting close to that 1st anniversary. Finding LJ. Watching him struggle and fight for his place. Seeing the absolute worst of humanity in some cheap motel in Vegas, and realizing that no matter how much you try to save everyone, sometimes all you can do is fight for what you can control.”

“This match is something I can control. This is a chance to remind the world—remind myself—why I’m still here. Why I’m still relevant. Because for too long, people have looked at me like I’m the guy who’s just there. The safe bet. The friendly face. The one who shakes your hand win or lose.”

Miles’ stare went flat.

“Not anymore.”

“This match is the pedestal I’ve been clawing my way back to. Because you can talk about titles, about accolades, about legacies all you want—but it starts here. It starts with proving, once and for all, that no matter how many times I get knocked off course, I will always find my way back to the fight.”

“I’m tired of feeling like I’m standing on the outside looking in. Like the moments I’ve built for myself are slipping through my fingers.

Winning this match at Summer Xxxtreme? It doesn’t just put me in line for a title shot. It puts me right where I belong—on top of this division. In the conversation. And yeah… maybe staring across the ring at my own husband if it comes to that.

I’ve worked too hard, bled too much, and given too many years of my life to be left behind.

So to every single name on this list…

I hope you’re ready.

Because I’m coming for all of you.

And I’m not leaving that cruise without my name etched as the number one contender.”

He reached out and rolled the poster closed, tying it with an elastic band. Then he sat there in the hush of the condo, the neon glow spilling across his face, the weight of it all pressing on his shoulders—and the fire in his chest burning hotter than ever.
4
Supercard Roleplays / SECRETS
« Last post by Amelia Reynolds on July 12, 2025, 11:59:29 PM »
echo 03 secrets


Denver International Airport was never really particularly quiet, what with it being the most massive hub within the midwest. Not even at half-past one in the morning on an early Tuesday in the dark. As always, it seemed to buzz with movement and announcements and the distant rumble of suitcase wheels over tile. She hated waiting in the car, and found it more important to meet her family or friends inside after they’d spent time travelling.

Inside, the air was recycled and cool. The white towering tents of the terminal would always mean that the place was too bright, and too sterile. Even with the fluctuation of passengers moving through the area, even with the night sky visible from where she sat within the center of the area. She was leaned back against the back of the strange, ergonomically sound steel benches, watching travellers come in and out.

Amelia’s hair was tied up in a scrunchie, the bun situated on the top of her head, tendrils falling around her face. She wore her sweats, and a long t-shirt – his, judging by the unreadable logo on the front. The weight of the past few days settled on her.

Grand Junction, the crowd. Her announcement – two wins, two matches, and now…now a shot at everything. That wasn’t nothing. But it also wasn’t just about climbing the ladder anymore. A shadow with a name followed her every step now, but she wasn’t sure what that name was. Expectation. Doubt. Pressure.  All the things she’d said that night were true, had told nothing but what she understood in her own perceptions, but the weight of it settled beneath her ribcage like a quiet breath she didn’t know how to release.

Failure to thrive wasn’t an option. Not right now. Not if she was going to make something of herself, make Wolfslair proud, make Aaron proud. She still hadn’t told Dickie. Hadn’t revealed anything more to Finn after he caught it already. Just let it sit, because right now, that wasn’t important.

Her eyes glanced up to the arrivals and departures screens. The flight from Miami had just landed ten minutes ago, which meant that he would be traversing the airport, wandering from the extremely long gates to the train below the concourses. It would take a little bit of time. Which allowed her mind to wander.

She didn’t know what version of Dickie Watson she was about to get.

She’d watched the footage. Maybe not live, because she was at Phoebe’s salon getting her roots retouched into the wee hours of the evening, but she’d watched it. In bits and pieces. Her stomach hadn’t really let her watch it all in one go. Dickie had always been a daredevil. But the damage he’d taken not seven hours before had been critical. A spear that led to a twenty foot drop, his blood on the concrete. Stretchers knocked over. Fists landing where bandages should have been placed. The match should have been called off, in her opinion.

But then he won. Of course he did. Barely. But to her, it wasn’t victory. It was survival, and it was wearing a damn smirk.

Any second now, he should be coming up from trains, riding the escalator with a slouch in his gait. He would be tired. Emotionally compromised. She’d seen it before, knew it was likely. Every time someone appeared from below with a hoodie and combat boots, her breath caught in her chest, resetting only when recognition didn’t come.

When she did see him, she rose to her feet. He was slower than usual, his black hoodie zipped high and his jaw bruised. His shoulders curled inwards, and his movement was stiff – one of his hands was wrapped in gauze and the other was purpling beneath the ink. He might have dozed off on the plane, but he didn’t look rested. His dark eyes caught hers, her steel blue widening in relief. He blinked, and she literally saw the breath flow out of him in his own form of relief.

Amelia walked towards him then, reaching out with a hand to grasp the least injured one. “Hi,” she murmured. He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened. He stepped forward, slowly, until he was right in front of her. He pressed his forehead softly to hers in greeting.

You didn’t have to come in,” he told her. “I could’ve walked to the pick up.

It smells like diesel fuel out there…and maybe stale tacos. Unsure. Besides, I wanted to see your face in more than a car light.” She reached up, pressing her fingers softly to the bruise on his jawline. She’d seen him in dozens of fights. In cages that collapsed on people. In times where he’d barely been standing. This, however, was one of his worst. “Dimitri.

‘M fine.” He muttered, pulling his head out of her grasp.

She didn’t question it.

Minutes later, the door shut heavier than she intended. The 2025 Land Cruiser that she drove was a tall order to get into, but as she adjusted the mirror, he settled into the passenger seat with a low hiss through his teeth. He’d pulled his hood back now, and she could see scrapes on his cheekbone, places that had flowed with blood hours prior. Swelling under his left eye. He buckled in with half a shrug.

She grit her teeth.

The exit from the garage short-term was silent, her hands firm on the wheel. Only the moderate hum of early two-thousands pop echoed. She hadn’t bothered plugging in her phone, hadn’t bothered with trying to find music he liked. She glanced in the mirror at him, watching as he closed his eyes. His lip was split, just to add insult to injury. There would be tender kisses on her forehead before bed, complete with hisses. She looked forward, Denver’s skyline dark in the distance, the mountains hidden by the darkness of the sky and the low moonlight.

You shouldn’t have taken that match.” Her voice cut like a blade, but it was whispered like silk. He didn’t respond to her as he opened the window and pressed his face into the door, his curls whipping in the wind as the cold air plastered him. “I’m serious, Dickie. You shouldn’t have.

Was already booked.

That’s not an answer.

Didn’t realize I had to ask permission.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, and she pursed her lips. “That wasn’t what I said.

Mmm.” He replied, low and sharp, noncomittal. “C’mon, Melia. You of all people should get it, right? You willfully stepped into this sport without telling the rest of us. Should make all of the sense now. Can’t play nurse now just because I’m better at breakin’ all of the things.

The wind through the window filled the cab with a soft roar, but it didn’t drown her out. Not when her voice returned, lower, but firmer this time. “There’s dangerous and then there’s whatever the hell that was.

He didn’t open his eyes. Didn’t even flinch. Just let the cold night slap right against the side of his face like it meant nothing. It probably felt like an ice bath. “That was winning.

That was bleeding,” she countered. “That was you gettin’ thrown through glass and off ledges like you were built of steel and not bone, Dimitri.

He snorted low through his nose and pulled his face back inside the car to look at her. The silence settled thicker as he did so, and she only took a small glance at him. The expression he gave her wasn’t the usual look of adoration he held. He was tired, she knew that, and when Dickie was tired, his filters flipped. It wasn’t the first time they argued. Wouldn’t be the last either.

You think I don’t know what I’m made of, what it costs?” His jaw ticked as he rolled a sore wrist.

I think you stop caring when you have a vendetta.

That earned another snort. But it wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t defensiveness. It was humorless, and he stretched out as much as he could in the chair, spike curved like he was trying to disappear into it. He flexed his knee, wincing imperceptibly. “Says the girl who picked the same goddamn sport, who trained in secret, snuck out of our bed at five a.m., lied to my fucking face for a year, and still expects to play Florence Nightingale when it suits her.

Her jaw clenched. That sunk. She didn’t take her eyes off the road. “I didn’t lie, Dimitri.” Amelia spoke slowly. “I just didn’t want you to stop me.

You’re a Reynolds. There is no stopping you, or Aiden, from doing stupid shit that I ultimately have to plan for.” He scoffed. “Just don’t act like it’s a fuckin’ one-way street. We all bleed here.

She frowned. Pursed her lips again. Let her fingers clench into the wheel, her right hand dropping to her thigh. “Fine. You can bleed on the boat.” She glanced at him again, softer. “I just..I need you there, okay? I need you present. Please?

Regardless of the argument, regardless of his words, regardless of the fact that he was liable to break himself again, he slid his battered fingers into hers.

Always.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Her bedroom was too quiet. And she hated the quiet. Quiet meant her gremlin of a boyfriend was sulking somewhere downstairs on a video game that she had no clue how to play. Quiet meant she was left to her own devices. Quiet meant that she was going to have to deal with things on her own, whether she liked it or not.

She slammed her suitcase onto the bed, opening it with a frown. The silence made everything louder, so when the zipper rolled, she heard it clearly. When she threw her gear into the bottom of the bag, it thudded like a storm. She was trying to stay productive, so she didn’t have to think. The sun had risen over the Colorado plains like a shadow that bathed her in a light she didn’t want two hours ago. It was morning. Eight hours since he slumped in the passenger seat and poke every nerve beneath her skin in only a way he knew how. Snapping accusations about lying and being a nurse when it suited her.

Amelia supposed he wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t right either, though he’d wear it like a badge regardless.

A knock sounded at the door a moment later and she looked up. It wasn’t polite. But it was one she knew. One she grew up with. She didn’t bother saying a word, just knew her brother would enter the room in thirty seconds or less. Seventeen, to be exact. Aiden Reynolds didn’t just poke his head into the door, he came in with all of the energy and barely-contained irritation of a hurricane. He obviously had been training, because sweat was on his collarbone, his shorts rode low and he had a ratty black tank top on that Kallie likely attempted to throw out months ago.

He crossed the threshold in three large steps, his six foot frame towering over her short one. He looked at the bag as she haphazardly threw things into it. “I organize better than you right now. What the fuck is this shit, Mels?

Amelia paused and looked at the bag. She did organize better than this. In fact, she really liked organization in most of the things she did. With a pause, she looked down at the bag, and then up at Aiden with a frown. “Dickie yelled at me.

Yelled?

Well. No. More like he turned into a feral goblin king and told me I snuck out of our bed and lied to him for a year. So clearly, that doesn’t mean I get to care if he lobs himself off of stages and drops and into trucks and bleeds.

Aiden blinked at her. He processed. That sounded like Dickie when wounded. “Okay, but what in the everlovin’ fuck?

Amelia threw another garment into the bag with likely more force than necessary. “That’s what I said.

He narrowed his eyes, like he was solving a remotely difficult math equation in his head, or at least trying to figure out which one of them actually was wrong here. He reached over, pulled the shirt back out, and folded with an absurd amount of care and set it back in the suitcase. “So, he’s pissed because you didn’t tell him you were training.

I think…” she frowned deeper, “I think really that he’s mad that I tried to tell him he couldn’t  keep trying to die in matches and he had that missile primed and prepared.

He made a face, somewhere in between something that looked like a grimace and a scoff combined. “Well. I mean, he does love those. Emotional weapons of mass destruction. Likes to sit on ‘em until someone pokes the bear and then boom, whole fuckin’ neighborhood is annihilated.” He looked at her. “Remember when I acted like I didn’t know what blood money was?

When he launched you into the counter at Disney World?

That’s the one.

Amelia sat down on the edge of the bed, elbow on her knee, chin resting lightly on the cradle of her palm. She giggled slightly at her brother, who sat down with her. He didn’t say anything for a second, just stayed with her like a fount of solemnity. Even if he had rage beneath his own hands for how things were going, he still would always give her a look that said he was watchin’ out for her.

I just,” she started, “I don’t want him to be mad at me.” She looked at him, her words softer than usual. “I know I’m not supposed to technically say that, that I should be focused and that I should be all eyes on the prize. But he’s him, Aiden. He’s my person. I want him there, on the boat. Watchin’. Not ‘cause I need all the prep or the cochin’, or plottin’ in the corners. I just want to look out from the ring and see his face, ya know? Like you like to see Kallie’s.

He nodded, understanding. But she didn’t stop.

This match, this…double or nothin’ thing…it’s not just a match. It’s a test, and one I could super fail if I don’t got my head on my shoulders. They wanna see if I can belong, if I can go one, two falls and still stand tall at the end of it, ya know? There’s so much pressure and pace and scrutiny…I can hear everyone in the match tryin’ to tell me I’m fuckin’ useless. I don’t wanna, but I know I can easily spiral when someone I love thinks I’ve failed ‘em. Even if I haven’t.

Ya didn’t fail him, Mels.

I know that. And he said he’d be there, but…

He snorted, and pressed an arm around her shoulders. “You know how he is. He’ll show up with three busted ribs, say he’s fine, sit in the back somewhere where it’s all shadows and silence. Like he’s not allowed to be proud of ya. But…he is. And you know he’s more afraid of lookin’ any form of vulnerable than he is of jumpin’ off a scaffold.

I want him in the front row, Aiden.” She sighed, pressing her head against his shoulder. “I want him to see me win. Not for him, but with him there. And if I don’t win? I still want him to know I gave it everythin’ I had.

He’ll be there. Might limp. Grumble. Probably’ll have an ice pack strapped to his ass. But he’ll be there.

She exhaled, and let her hands fall to her lap. She pursed her lips slightly, and frowned again. “Are you okay?

Nah.” He paused for a minute. “I’m just kinda fuckin’ frustrated about the level of bullshit this company has. Same bullshit, ya know? Logan beat me, fine. But I never got my rematch, and I didn’t want to be anywhere near the World Heavyweight title. But now I’m in this match for a contendership and I’ve gotta fight two guys I actually like in Miles and Eddie…

She waited for him to continue.

And I gotta turn into a fuckin’ villain to remind everyone I’m not a joke.

You’re not a villain, Aiden.

Nah, I’m not. But they won’t take me seriously until I act like one. Until I remind them that this isn’t the way it should be. I loved that belt, Mels. Fought for it. And now  it’s bein’ passed around like some damn prop in a clown routine. Held onto by a clown who sounds like Sylvester the Cat on steroids.

Then…” she tilted her head, “show them that you’re better than that belt. Let ‘em know that you finally are gettin’ your comeuppance. You deserve to be in the lights. You just kick their butts and let ‘em cry like you did when I was five and I scraped my knee trying to follow you and Adam down to Hungry Jacks.

I didn’t let you cry.

You told me I would gain superpowers if I did.

He knocked his head against hers. “It stopped hurting though, didn’t it?

It did.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★


Ya ever look back and realize like…how far you’ve come, but only to realize that no one else noticed? That no one else is sittin’ in the wings, wishin’ to cheer you on or make you alive. It’s kinda all up to you, whether you wanna survive or succeed or simply be present. A lot of the time, it kinda seems like all anyone wants to do is just be present. They’re content to like…live in this bubble of grandiose self-aggrandizement and forget that some part of ‘em is supposed to loathe themselves. Even just a bit.

Ladies like Kayla Richards and Amber Ryan knew how to loathe themselves. Even Frankie Holliday up there kinda loathes herself, but tries to use it as a plus rather than the whole ass minus it is.

When I started this thing, ya know…people barely glanced twice. Just another Reynolds, when Aiden was kinda bein’ the joke. I mean, that’s his thing, and it’s always kinda been his thing. He stood in front of a man who thought he was a demigod from H.P. Lovecraft’s failure of a novel and weird ass writing, and Aiden stood there as The Great Cunthulu and all of the chaos and shenanigans arose. He and Dickie made the man weep and then he disappeared. I mean, okay. Maybe bullying a man out of the business is a poor practice, but ya also gotta have balls.

I know what ya all thought though. She’s gonna have a stupid accent – mine is lovely, just so you know. But just another hopeful low carder over here. She’ll be gone in a month, right? Didn’t make noise, didn’t yell like everyone else does…didn’t come in with fireworks or edges in my voice. I didn’t need to, ya know? I didn’t need to search for approval from a buncha people who don’t really care too much about my efforts.

Match by match and moment by moment, I built myself. I know it’s not a lot. Two matches. Two wins. I don’t really have the veracity to be sittin’ here, tellin’ ya all the what fors and the whodunits. But I get to kinda talk on my experience, and note that out of everyone in this company, I’m the one with two matches in, the rookie in full, and I made it to a match that I probably should be shyin’ away from.

But I’m Amelia Reynolds, and I don’t shy away.

I take what I’ve learned in those dark rooms and quiet hours of the mornin’ when me and my trainer thought to take every hard hit and every fall as a requiem within our heads. I take what I’ve learned and don’t really give a hoot who is in front of me. Rookie. Legend. It’s all the same. I came to work. I didn’t chase the attention and I didn’t sound like a rotten mess. I let the work speak, and I did what no one expected me to do.

I felled some of your best.

It wasn’t clean and it wasn’t perfect, and I’m pretty sure I could have gotten hurt because I didn’t launch myself correctly and I wasn’t always on top of everything. But I did it. Three of the women in this match I’ve already defeated. Don’t mistake that for some kinda complacency, because it’s not. I grew up on a beach, and I learned about low and high tides. Those high tides come up faster than a huntsman on a lizard, and I’m not about to be caught and drug out to sea, unable to find my way back to solid ground. I know the work is there and I gotta put my best foot forward.

But so does everyone else, don’t they?

I know what it’s like. I’ve been told. Multi-person matches can be the bane of existence in this company because you never really know what it’s gonna be like when you get in that ring. There’s so many different styles and wrestling attempts. And I know that I’ve got to have a lot more to say when I get on that boat. I’m new but I’m not stupid. This is my first supercard, but I watched Aiden, and I’ve watched Finn and Kayla and all my friends. I’ve watched Bella and Miles.

I know. Even if I haven’t experienced it.

I guess that’s what all of you have meant when you belittled me for the fact that I knew people. But honeies, if I didn’t know, then maybe I might be you. And that’s not something I can do.

On the thirteenth iteration of Summer XXXTreme, I’m present. Double or Nothin’. Two pinfalls or submissions. A match that kinda has a bunch of names, egos, resumes, and ickle e. The one you’re not sure about. The one you didn’t expect. The one that you couldn’t have thought would be standing across from anyone leading into a match for a contendership for thee championship. Bombshells World. The most poignant in our division.

Shiny. Gold. Beautiful.

But here’s the thing, friends. I know that it’s easy to just think I’m a body in the match, but I’m not here to finally just arrive and make a spectacle. I’ve already done that. The crowds are happy to see me, because I’m always here to prove none of this is luck and you can’t tell me that it is. It’s not some little spark of enlightenment either, ‘cause I haven’t flamed out just yet. Even if you wish I would.

I mean, I get it. Why I’m doubted. Why you keep lookin’ past me to the louder voices, the heavier hands, the longer resumes, the experience in this match. It’s cause I don’t really yell for anyone’s attention, do I? I’m not comin’ in swinging bottles, callin’ out bloodlines. I don’t demand for people to call me a star, and I don’t act like the whole world owes me somethin’ for nothin’. I don’t bite on all the bait.

I just show up.

I study.

I adapt.

I learn.

Every match has a lesson in it, and every time there is a story to tell from what can be gleaned. I’m not here to make enemies, I’m not here to tell people they’re wrong, and I’m not here to capitulate on an entire roster and make threats. But I am here to make sure that you hear me as we get on that boat and we prepare ourselves for the reckonin’ that’s awaitin’ us.

Diamond. Alexandra. Kate. Andrea. Joanne. We were chosen for this match because management saw somethin’ in all of us. I can understand it too. Fighters. We don’t stand down just because someone told us that we didn’t have it in us to succeed. But out of all of you, I’m the weakest link. I know it. You don’t have to tell me, you don’t have to argue it. You don’t even have to say it. I’m the short stick in an era of a lot of trauma and tribulations.

I get it.

Doesn’t mean it’s right.

But I know that’s what you’ll believe. Because that’s what’s easier to believe, that’s what everyone that was placed before me believed. That just because I have a short match listin’, it’ll be easy to take me apart. So maybe…maybe that’s what you’re bankin’ on.

That when I get in that ring, and I finally see what’s in front of me, that I’ll panic. That I’ll be so overwhelmed that I won’t be able to see straight, think straight, look straight. Maybe I’ll worry that one of you can blindside me while the others kinda tear each other apart, or that I won’t be fast enough to react. That I won’t be able to adapt, or not be experienced enough to hold any part of the ground I stand on. Maybe you’ll think that a girl like me, who’s still tryin’ to figure out how to make sure her boots are laced without any kinda doubt, can’t navigate a storm like what’s on the horizon.

Six women. One match. Contendership. And chaos.

But let me ask you all a question then. Or some questions, in succession. What happens when the storm hits someone who doesn’t flinch? Or when the quietest one in the match doesn’t break under the noise? What happens when I’m still standing, despite all of your best efforts to put me in the grave?

I could stand here and be the loudest if I want to. I’m Australian, we’re not exactly the most quiet English speakers in the whole world. But this match isn’t made for the loudest mouth, or even the one with the most accolades. It doesn’t care if you were most recently Internet, Roulette, or Bombshell champ. It’s a test of instinct and endurance and adaptability. It’s not boiled down to one pin. Or a fall. Or a submission. Or a lucky shot in the dark. Two. Two falls.

It takes skill. Somethin’ maybe I don’t have, but that doesn’t kill my grit and desire and my absolute death mantra that I will survive this.

I’m not lookin’ past you. Lord, no. But I am lookin’ ahead too. Because if I win this, I could stand across from Kayla Fuckin’ Richards, or Frankie Holliday, and I know that that match will be something that no one would ever expect.

I hope you also recognize that I’m not just some little rookie. I know you all frame it as a poor thing, but I’ve been around wrestling for the last ten years of my life. My brother. My boyfriend, who just walked through hell and survived against some of your heroes. I know what I’m walkin’ into, and I’m not disenchanted or ignorant. I’ve see the resumes, studied the videos, read the stats, watched the dirt sheets. There’s weight and desire and want in that ring. Decades of experience and hundreds of matches. Women who have burned down all of the buildins’ just to see it dance in front of their eyes. They have somethin’ to prove because they didn’t get to before.

And then you have me.

Not a veteran. Not a generational phenom. Just someone who wants it more than I’m willin’ to tear down people and scream about it like I’ve been stabbed in the heart too many times. I’ve taken some hits. I’ll take more. I’ve heard critiques, and condescenision. It’s easy. Because I’m nice.

Except I’m not. I know how to have teeth too.

I don’t need your approval, and I don’t necessarily need the crowd’s approval either. I don’t need my name lit up in fireworks to prove that I matter. Growth doesn’t stop just ‘cause it’s hard to see, and maybe I’m not there yet, but I can also figure out how to get there because I don’t have issues in front of me filled with grudges and poor judgement. I’m not afraid of bein’ underestimated, because I expect it.

Ladies, this isn’t just about a title shot for me. It’s not just reaching towards gold and greedily searching for it to be under my little, nicely manicured hand.

It’s about standin’ in front of everyone, in the moment, and ownin’ it. Not because I yelled the loudest. Sounded like an edgelord. Fought through the pain. Or cried about it. But because I earned it. Because I stayed. Because I didn’t flinch.
So when that bell rings, and the six of us circle each other…I’ll remember who I am. I’m not the favorite to win. I’m not the monster in the ring. I’m not a legend.

But I am the girl that trained in secret and took every bump and every bruise like they were my prayers. I stood in the shadow of the greats that I know and love and revere, and I didn’t crumble. I learned. I listened. I got up. Every time.

When the smoke clears, maybe I’ll win. Maybe I dont.

But I will be the one you remember.



[/font]
5
Orlando, Florida. Wednesday 9th July.

Liam knew this match will go against everything he believes in so instead of having a traditional wrestling office discussion inside of a wrestling office like most wrestlers would have if they are unhappy about the situations they were put in, Liam decided to have a discussion with one of the SCW bosses in his own office in Orlando, Florida instead as a way for not the entire locker room to know their business discussions because it was the smarter thing to do than exposing this very thing that goes against Liam's morals.

This was something that was extremely hard for Liam to accept, especially going by the badge of honour and respecting people outside of the ring which is exactly sure he didn't do against Kevin Carter, but he wasn't deserving of it because of his treatment of treating every other wrestlers look like shit.

He done his paperwork as a police officer, expecting a visit from the SCW bosses or at least one of them. He heard a knock on the door which the guy was granted permission as Liam heard the guy saying I was invited to talk to Liam. Liam got up and he opened the door to the other SCW boss standing across the room from him, the guy known as Christian Underwood.

Christian got to see the office that no wrestler would ever get to see, unless they done criminal activities. He at first shook hands with Christian as a way to be polite as Liam closed the door and sat down and he says this with a touch of anger.

Liam Davis: “I don't agree with the match I've been put in to be honest Christian.”

Christian Underwood: “What, the fact you got an opportunity to be a heavyweight title contender?”

Liam Davis: “No, the whole idea of what you've done with the match. It would've been alright for the battle royal to be eliminated in the pool, but overboard?”

Christian Underwood: “I wouldn't reject this offer granted to you if I was you.”

Liam Davis: “Oh yes, I should be so grateful of throwing people overboard into the sea below, contradicting everything I believe in. Especially when I had to recently arrest a guy for throwing people overboard. How does that reflect on me as a police officer?”

Granted, it was the first time Christian had ever met Liam Davis other than checking if things were alright and to his taste, but clearly this was not one of those times and it was in a way very understanding where Liam was coming from, but at the same time, Christian had to nail the point, especially it was Liam who granted to see Christian instead of Mark who had nothing to do with the situation on why he did this.

Christian Underwood: “I've been working on this deal for fifteen years Liam to do a battle royal match and I appreciate you wanting to talk to me like a man away from the wrestling office with your police office, more than other people can say. But this is an opportunity of your life in your forth match. Who else wouldn't take it?”

Liam Davis: “You don't see my problem, do you Christian? Title opportunities are not the problem here. I can fully admit I didn't deserve the Internet title and I take them by the balls. But this is not about that, it's about me throwing men overboard to win the match is the issue. Do you not get it in your head?”

Christian Underwood: “I fully get it Liam, I do understand this contradicts everything you do as a police officer, especially when you arrested a guy recently for throwing people overboard but you have to do the match, even if it goes against your morals, even if it goes everything you do to protect people to be arrested from throwing people overboard.

Liam Davis: “Couldn't you have made the match to be a fucking battle royal by eliminating opponents over the pool like you did with the bombshells match? I'd much prefer if you done that than making me do shit of throwing people overboard that goes against everything police officers are meant to do.”

That was very clear now that Christian did seem to understand. It wasn't like demanding to make changes for themselves or changing match decisions or even demanding a title match like all the other wrestlers have complained about before. If anything, it means having Liam out of the chance for the Heavyweight title opportunity if it meant throwing people overboard.

Christian Underwood: “I couldn't because I wanted to do something new beyond the throwing people over the pool. I get it, I could've done that, but I wanted something new that's not been done before.”

Liam Davis: “Yeah me being extremely uncomfortable breaking my damn morals and making myself a hypocrite, making that criminal I put in jail and everyone else I arrested for those crimes OK to do.”

Christian Underwood: “Is this what you think this is what's about? I thought a guy like you would take this on by your balls. But from what I'm hearing, you want out of this match because it contradicts your work. I get it, but at the same time Liam, this is a wrestling business, not police investigation work.”

It grinded Liam's gears to go against everything he does as a police officer and it's seriously conflicting his morals right now to do the match that he feels that should've been better for him that he wouldn't mind. He shakes his head, but Christian continues on.

Christian Underwood: “I'm not like asking you to attempt murder by throwing people overboard. We will have security in the water to get people like yourself and your opponents out of the water. It's not like there'll be nobody there to fetch them out the water. I'm sure the other officers will understand.”

Liam Davis: “Maybe, but I just didn't want to be a hypocrite.”

Christian Underwood: “I understand but you got to do the match and it's a wrestling match that you need to separate your police work. I appreciate you wanting to discuss this in a civil manner than an aggressive manner like many wrestlers do if things aren't going their way. You were a bit in the beginning, but it's because you didn't understand and now you do, I expect you to be there.”

Liam Davis: “I will.”

Of course that little debate is over as there were things that Christian was impressed by when it came to Liam. Sure he only had three matches in his career, but he did want to remind Liam of something that it was indeed questionable on why he was in the SCW Heavyweight title match this early.”

Christian Underwood: “I know you must be thinking, you never deserved the title shot you got against Kevin or even this one.”

Liam Davis: “I got to be honest, I wanted to test myself against Kevin first in a non title match, but you had it as a title match. Didn't understand that and I don't understand this one. I did admit I didn't deserve the Internet title shot.”

Christian Underwood: “Except for Aiden, Alex, more than other people can say. But the reason is because of your performance against Kevin and two, your performances against LJ Kasey and Justin Smith. The way you made these guys better than they are is incredible. Especially Justin Smith who people regard him as a joke.”

Liam Davis: “Fact is I know he's trying to help the roster be better wrestlers. He's losing for the sake of being kind and that deserves my respect. I respect LJ Kasey too because he's an incredible wrestler and when I fought him, I wondered why hasn't he won, let alone received a title shot yet? He has so much potential.”

That was on Liam's mind a lot since he fought him and he did have to ask because he saw so much ability in LJ Kasey and wouldn't mind facing him again. Christian answered him.

Christian Underwood: “He's had Internet title shot a while ago against when Carter had the title and he lost. We understand the talent he has and I agree, he deserves more opportunities. Saying that do you think it was wise of you to dig into Kevin's life like that?”

Liam Davis: “Yes because he does this shit with everyone else. Plus I'm a police officer, of course I'm going to know everything about Kevin's brother being in prison and speak out on it. Me knowing the information and not telling anyone would be stupid. He sure has no respect for anyone else. Degraded Miles and Carter's personal and family life, degraded Eddie Lyon's personal and family life. So you have to deal with the damage.”

Christian Underwood: “I get it, he did deserve that, but you need to control that part of you because it wasn't right personally and I'd be harder on others who did that, but you are a police officer after all and you're right, it did make sense and he did deserve what you done to him. But next time, keep it under control. I understand you finding out about people's family members being in prison or jail, but just keep in mind what I said.”

Liam Davis: “I hear you and I will dig more into Kevin's personal and family life again because of the way he treats everyone else. Same with Guy as well. But I keep it under control with everyone else. He deserved the treatment he got and I'm standing by that.”

They shook hands as Christian was going to attend to other things that were important of his time, even if it meant having a personal life outside of wrestling, which was something Liam didn't have and never wanted to have other than having a day out with the police officers which he will for one day have on occasions because they were his only relationships and will only be his only relationships. Christian left Liam's office for him to get some more work done and tackle many more crimes at his disposal.

Only that when he went back to work on the computer, another officer came in and it's one of his closest friends, as he was behind the reception when Christian walked in, Oliver came in and closed the door behind him and sat down.

Oliver: “What's that all about? The guy doesn't look like a criminal.”

Liam Davis: “No, Christian wasn't. It was about wrestling business I wanted to discuss because it was over the overboard rumble match I've been put in which I don't agree with with throwing my opponents over the top rope overboard to win.”

Oliver: “No, it is something to be really concerned about and I understand the morals stuff, but I can understand Christian not understanding that.”

Liam Davis: “He didn't at first, but he fully got it. But he was right about one thing, I need to separate my police work to being a wrestler in the ring. But I'm still maintaining that I'm a police officer with my clothes. That's it, I refuse to be someone else.”

Oliver: “I get it and I agree with Christian, you do need to remember when you throw someone overboard, it's only for part of the show. Anyway, got to go and I'll see you later.”

Oliver left Liam's office for Liam to finally get to work and planning things for the officers while he was away on shore which he did a leave of things for them to do from Sunday onwards as there was still a lot of things to manage, although he did get an invitation to invite one friend on the ship, but instead of selecting someone he knows as he wasn't risking his job to invite an officer he cares about and wanting them to do their job, he selected an officer he recognised without knowing Liam well and without working with the Davis family.

--------------------------------

Forced to do two pointless videos on opponents part 1 personal video diary.

“I'm literally forced to do a pointless video when I can easily cover everyone in a week. I'm not going to do video responses of people saying he said this, he said that. No because that's idiotic and boring. I don't give a rats ass what any of you say, not even what Kevin Carter said as I didn't even listen to his video. You see here, I'm smiling because I got under his skin that nobody has done, not just with the video I did, but also with my actions too. I almost had him a few times because I pissed him off so bad like he pisses everyone off that I almost got the win and won the Internet title. Anyway lets go down and talk about half of my opponents one week, the other half next Friday.

Lets start with an opponent I already know and could use things from him in the last video he did against me, Justin Smith. You see, I like you because you know that you work hard of instead of being selfish, you're extremely selfless to help out other people get better in the ring. I made you a star more than other wrestlers could have with you. But you need a lot more aggression of wanting a title shot if it means to get yourself there. I'm not going to call you  a joke like everyone else would as that doesn't help you, but you have to stop being selfless and be a lot more selfish in wanting to win the title, doing more than you usually do, especially with the SCW World Heavyweight title. We may have respected each other, but you aren't selfish enough to win this title contention shot. That's all I will say about you.

I heard all about you Logan that you won the title from Aiden who I will get into the next video I'll do with him. Beating Aiden for the Roulette title is impressive when nobody thought it would happen and you have worked hard to get the title so I get why you're mad, I really do as what Guy did was the most shadiest and stupidest thing I've ever seen in the wrestling business. It was bullshit to hand himself a title shot because he won king for the day. But how did you not figure that out it was Guy? The clues were there on the mystery man and king for the day. Even I knew it was guy just purely on that alone. Can't be very smart if you failed to match the dots. Everyone knew it was guy and he failed to hide that. It goes to show that Guy couldn't win a title by being a good wrestler. We also understand losing your rag after losing, but Aiden deserved a rematch with you before you defended it against Guy.

The thing is I lost to Kevin Carter and you don't see me moaning and bitching about it because there's no reason for me to when I came the closest to beat him, especially filling out details of him that nobody would've known about Kevin, unless you're working in the police force. Fact is I get why you're mad about Guy robbing you of that as he should've been able to earn it if he was that good of a wrestler. I think the King/Queen of the day rules should be that you do whatever you want, as long as it's not handing yourself a title shot situation. You need to be smarter and better Logan. Also lay off relying on your partner speaking for you. You either let her speak everything for you or you speak everything for yourself.

Then we come to the last guy on the list for this week that is, a guy who also gets trashed on as much as the other opponents do, Bill Barnhart. So you like to make up information about wrestlers sometimes do you? I admire that you want to develop young talent to get into the sport, more wrestlers should be doing this, but saying that, you've not won that many matches either. Parts of your videos of you are having fun. Sometimes officers tell me I should have fun, but I just can't, not when the situation makes for the title opportunity being on the line.

I'm not sure why like Logan that you have someone speaking for you sometimes on videos as well,, but at least unlike Logan, you can speak on your own at times. People also call you a joke an awful lot, but Justin Smith practically said he makes other wrestlers better, what's your purpose of being a wrestler here, Bill? It's almost as if Bill needs a new wife, although I think romance relationships are a waste of time and are bullshit.

You see, I don't need to do much research to find out about all of you, I don't need to do much research about what goals you want to do because as far as I see, you just don't have the spark like I do to take James or Carter down. I will be a lot more aggressive and admit that although I don't deserve the opportunity, I will take it by both hands and will do everything it takes to win. Even if it goes completely against my morals and my work duty to throw people overboard. Think I'd rather throw people into the pool.

But a match is a match I suppose that you got to deliver on. See I never used a low blow downstairs to try and get wins. I believe in myself each and every single day as you do as a professional wrestler because I'm still in my prime and can improve to the next level without them. I will end up walking away from this match as the winner as much as I'm completely against someone throwing them overboard. Still I have to do it and I have to stop the six of you from winning against me because I'm not letting some snotty ass kids win as I end up being the better wrestler than the three of you combined. Anyway, I'll talk about Aiden, Miles and Eddie.”
6
Supercard Roleplays / Re: CASSIE WOLFE v SELEANA ZDUNICH - GRUDGE MATCH
« Last post by Seleana Zdunich on July 12, 2025, 11:10:32 PM »
On-Camera

State Room
Princess Cruise
Friday, July 11, 2025
9:11 AM Pacific





This might be fun, but that would depend on several things. This time there would be no championship at stake. There would be no getting dumped into the pool for a match with some title shot on the line.

No, this Summer XXXTreme cruise and show would be different for Seleana Zdunich than past experiences had been, 

There would be none of those things this year. There would be all three members of their marriage on the ship with Alexandra "Diamond" Caldwell, Seleana and Crystal Hilton all on the roster now. Their children, Aurora and Elijah, would be with them, allowing for a family outing together if everything fell into place properly.

That was a big question, lately…

If you went all the way back to the Viking Tour, it had started with Seleana cutting a promo in Stockholm, enjoying the fact that they were actually doing a Climax Control In Sweden. It had been a marvelous feeling for Seleana, standing there before her fellow Swedes  as she prepared to take part in the evening's card even if she was just getting to be the makeshift host and guest referee for a match between Cassie Wolfe and Mercedes Vargas.

It had not gone well

Seleana had gotten upset by something said by Mercedes and Selena had tried to blast her in the mouth for whatever it was she said, but Seleana had missed and accidentally hit Cassie instead, knocking her out cold.   

And Cassie had not even slackened on it much less let it go.

Seleana Zdunich: Det ligger en hund begravd här. Hon gör en höna av en fjäder.

She shakes her head, visibly displeased

Seleana Zdunich: Varför kändes det som om jag skitade i det blå skåpet?

Looking up into the camera, Seleana just shakes her head sadly.

Seleana Zdunich: I did not mean to start this, Cassie. I did not mean to knock you down and out. I did not mean to cost you that match with Mercedes.

She looks down in shame.

Seleana Zdunich: I did not mean to help Mercedes Vargas with anything. She has never liked nor respected me. If she is really as good a friend to Christina as I have been told, something would changed by now, but it has not.

She looks back up into the lens, still with an expression of shame on her face.

Seleana Zdunich: You, I did not wish to harm, Cassie. I liked you. I rooted for you.

The shame melts away.

Seleana Zdunich: Now you make hens out of feathers over one mistake that I freely admit I made and that it was a mistake. There is no running from that.

She nods forcefully.

Seleana Zdunich: It happen.

Sje points to her chest to indicate herself.

Seleana Zdunich: I do.

The hand drops but Seleans's gaze is seemingly glued to the camera.

Seleana Zdunich: Why must we cling to this as if it gives the breath of life?

She shrugs.

Seleana Zdunich: I hit you.

She holds up a single index finger.

Seleana Zdunich: Once.

The hand falls away again.

Seleana Zdunich: You went down and did not get back up.

Seleans cocks her head as she glares into the camera.

Seleana Zdunich: Are you certain you wish to keep pressing for that action to be repeated only this time to add malice and intent?

Shaking her head somewhere between sadness and disgust, the Swede straightens back up.

Seleana Zdunich: It did not need to happen. It does not need to happen again but you cannot seem to stop yourself from trying for it.

She narrows her eyes as if asking through the camera.

Seleana Zdunich: I do not know why you feel the need to try and push buttons that do not need pushing, but if you keep pushing, you will not like the answer.

She nods pointedly,

Seleana Zdunich: I am sorry the first one happened, Cassie, but if it happens again, I will not be sorry.

She points accusingly.

Seleana Zdunich: You will have earned it now.

She looks up into the camera hopefully.

Seleana Zdunich: I do not hate you, Cassie, but you are making it hard to keep things that way.

She nods almost to herself.

Seleana Zdunich: I pray you do not push past the point of no return.
7
Preparing for the Trip
LJs Place
Las Vegas, Nevada


The last of Alexandra’s gear was packed, the suitcase zipped, and her boots resting on top like a final piece of armor. The soft hum of Las Vegas nightlife filtered through the window as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, mentally checking off everything for the trip. It was strange, in a way, how much calmer she felt this year compared to last. Experience had softened the edges of uncertainty. She knew what was waiting on that ship. The chaos. The fans. The long days and wild nights. But this time, she wasn’t walking into it with that same heavy weight on her chest. Across the room, LJ sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone absently before setting it down. His duffel bag sat mostly empty at his feet.

“Are you sure you’re packed enough?” she asked, glancing at the bare bag with a teasing smile.

He looked up and smirked. “I’m not the one stepping into the ring in the middle of the ocean. I figured out a few shirts, a pair of shorts, and one dress outfit in case they try to get fancy.”

“You’ll need more than that. It’s Summer XXXtreme. There's sun, saltwater, and the kind of mayhem that eats clean clothes alive.”

LJ chuckled and stood, walking over to her. “Yeah, but I’m not on the card. I’m not working. I’m just... yours this time. Bodyguard, emotional support, maybe a glorified luggage handler.”

Alexandra’s smile faded into something warmer, softer. “You’re more than that. Just having you there makes everything feel more grounded.”

He shrugged, but the faint pink in his cheeks gave away how much that meant to him. “Still feels weird, though. Not being booked. Not being part of the show. I’ve spent so much time fighting for a spot that stepping away, even for a week, messes with my head.”

She nodded in understanding. “It messed with mine last year. I wasn’t sure I even belonged on that cruise. I kept second-guessing everything, Ashlynn, the matches, the fans, being out at sea with no safety net. But it ended up being one of the best things for me. Because I stopped trying to be perfect and just... showed up. Did my thing. And people noticed.”

“You got everyone talking,” he said. “And now they’re expecting you to outdo yourself.”

“I’m not worried about that,” she said, stepping closer and slipping her arms around his waist. “What I care about is being focused, being me. And this year, I get to have my partner there. Not as a tag team, not as an act, just as someone who has my back.”

LJ rested his chin on top of her head. “Always. Even if I’m the guy in the crowd with the overpriced drink yelling too loud.”

She laughed against his chest. “You’d be the best part of the crowd.”

For a few moments, they stood there in silence, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between them. This trip wasn’t just about the cruise or the matches—it was about taking a step forward, together. With Ashlynn staying with Cassandra and Dhillon for the week, there was finally room for Alexandra and LJ to breathe as a couple.

“I think I needed this more than I realized,” she said quietly.

“The cruise?”

“No,” she replied, lifting her eyes to meet his. “This time. With you. Without everything pulling us in five different directions. I’ve been going non-stop for so long, I forgot what it feels like to just be with someone.”

“You haven’t really let yourself slow down,” LJ agreed. “Even when we first got together, you were still wearing your armor.”

“I had to,” she said, her voice soft. “For Ashlynn. For survival. For my own sanity. But I’m tired of carrying that weight all the time.”

He nodded. “Then don’t. Let me carry some of it with you.”

Her eyes glistened for just a second before she looked away, blinking it back. “You say things like that and I remember why I let you in.”

“I didn’t knock gently,” he said with a small grin.

“No, you didn’t. You walked in like you belonged here. And maybe, you do.”

They sat on the bed, her hand resting over his. The bags were packed, the plans set. Tomorrow, they’d board the ship. Alexandra would step back into the spotlight, the ring, the madness of a wrestling cruise. And LJ would be right there, not as a wrestler, not as her man in the corner while she was in a match, but as her anchor.

“You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her sideways.

“Not about the match,” she said. “That’s the easy part. It’s the stuff between the matches that gets tricky.”

“Like what?”

“Like trying to remember who I am when I’m not being the performer. Like making space for us in a world that doesn’t stop moving. Last year, I felt like I was surviving. This year, I want to live in it.”

LJ leaned back on his elbows. “So we do that. You work. I support you. We steal moments in between. Breakfast on the balcony. Watching the sunset. Making fun of people in the pool.”

Alexandra laughed again, brighter this time. “God, that sounds perfect.”

“It will be,” he said. “You fight. I’ll be there. And when the lights go out, it’s just you and me. That’s what I’m looking forward to most.”

She turned, curling into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“When we get back, when the cruise is over, and real life crashes back in, don’t let me shut down again. Remind me of this. What it feels like to let someone stay.”

He kissed her forehead gently. “I’ll remind you every damn day if I have to.”

The air between them settled into something steady, calm. Tomorrow would bring the roar of the ocean and the madness of fans. Alexandra would face whatever challenge the cruise had in store. But tonight, she had something far more powerful than momentum, she had LJ. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t walking in Summer XXXtreme alone.


Let’s Talky Talk
The Strip
Las Vegas, NV


The camera opened on the glimmering chaos of the Las Vegas Strip. Neon signs buzzed above packed sidewalks. Tourists shouted, music blared from open doors, and slot machines chirped from every direction. In the middle of it all, walking with slow, measured steps through the chaos, was Alexandra. She was dressed in a sharp leather jacket, sunglasses covering eyes that burned with purpose, her boots striking the pavement with deliberate weight.

She didn’t glance at the noise or the spectacle. All of it faded behind her focus. The camera followed as she walked past the Bellagio fountains, the spray catching the city lights in bursts of color. She finally came to a stop beneath the glowing canopy of the Flamingo, turned to face the camera, and pulled off her sunglasses.

Her eyes locked onto the lens, cold, sharp, and surgical.

"Let’s talk," she said, voice low but firm enough to cut through the roar of the Strip.

Amelia: "The Unknown Equation"

Alexandra tilted her head, a small smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. "Amelia. The one I haven’t touched yet. The enigma. The one the fans like to call a mystery. You know what mysteries are to me? Just problems waiting to be solved."

She took a few steps down the sidewalk, weaving between a group of partygoers without breaking her stride. "We’ve never faced each other, and I know that’s been eating away at you. They’ve been protecting you. They’ve been crafting your journey like it’s a fairy tale. But here’s the thing, sweetheart, fairy tales end in horror when reality hits. And I am that reality."

She stopped again, just in front of a luxury store, her reflection staring back from the glass. "You’ve never had to bleed for your momentum, Amelia. You’ve never felt what it’s like to be broken in front of a crowd that expected more from you. You dance, you fly, you smile—and they eat it up like it’s gourmet. But when you step into the ring with me, none of that’s going to save you."

Alexandra leaned closer to the glass, staring into her own eyes before looking back at the camera. "You’re fast, you’re clean, you’ve got technique. But I’ve made careers end for less. What you’ve built for yourself—your potential, your precious image—I’m going to drag it all into the street like garbage and show the world what happens when smoke and mirrors meet substance."

The Strip pulsed behind her, but her tone never wavered. "So go ahead, Amelia. Be their rising star. Be their future. Because when the time comes, I’ll be the one who introduces you to your ceiling. And I promise, it’s going to hurt."

Joanne: "The Broken Record"

Alexandra turned a corner, walking past Caesar’s Palace, the grandeur behind her a stark contrast to the venom in her voice. "Joanne. Poor, stubborn, beautifully deluded Joanne. We’ve been here before, haven’t we? And every single time, I’ve beaten you into the floor like it’s tradition."

She rolled her shoulders, brushing past a performer on stilts without a second glance. "What amazes me isn’t that you lost. It’s that you keep coming back like something’s going to change. Like this time, things will be different. Like you’ve somehow evolved past the woman I already exposed."

She scoffed, glancing sideways as if picturing Joanne’s face. "You’re not evolving, Joanne. You’re decorating failure. You put up a fresh coat of paint every time I destroy you and try to convince yourself the cracks aren’t there. But I see them. Every twitch in your eye when my name is brought up. Every forced breath you take when they ask about your losses to me. You’re not fighting to win. You’re fighting to survive. And I’ve got bad news, survival isn’t enough anymore."

Alexandra stopped beneath a massive LED billboard flashing championship belts and highlight reels. She didn’t even look up. "I don’t hate you, Joanne. You’re not worth that. What I feel is pity. Because no matter how many times you crawl back into that ring, hoping this time you’ll rise. I’ll be there to remind you that some stories end the same way, every time."

She looked into the camera with icy finality. "And your story? It ends with me."

Andrea: "The Thorn in My Side"

Now Alexandra’s walk had slowed. Her pace was deliberate. There was weight behind her steps as she passed the Mirage. The lights flickered above her, like sparks trying to find fuel. "Andrea," she said, the name alone carrying tension. "You’re the one that stays with me. The one who got through."

She stopped, folding her arms. The tension in her jaw said everything. "You’ve beaten me. Not often. But enough. Enough to leave a scar. And that’s why I don’t take you lightly. I don’t dismiss you. I respect you, but that respect comes with a price. Because every single time I’ve tasted defeat by your hand, I’ve carved a new weapon out of it. I’ve built new armor. You sharpened me without realizing it."

She stepped off the main sidewalk and onto a quieter stretch of pavement, where the Strip’s noise dulled just slightly. Her voice dropped. "But here’s where we differ, Andrea. You were satisfied with the win. You wanted the moment. I wanted domination. You got the applause. I want the silence that comes after I leave my opponent broken."

Alexandra turned her head slightly, her profile lit by the passing glow of LED lights. "You’re dangerous. But now I’m smarter. Meaner. Colder. You won’t find the same Alexandra you beat before. She’s dead. I buried her myself."

She looked back into the camera, the storm behind her eyes ready to break. "And when we meet again, Andrea... I’m not walking away with a win. I’m walking away with you. Shattered. Humbled. And finally... beneath me."

Kate: "The Identity Crisis"

Further down the Strip, Alexandra came to a halt near a street performer dressed like a living statue. She stared at it for a moment, blank, unmoving, artificial. Then turned back to the camera.

"Kate. You know, I’ve faced chaos, I’ve faced strategy, I’ve faced rage—but you? You’re not even a finished thought. You’re half of a character sketch, barely colored in, and every week you show up with a new coat of confusion like that’s going to make you interesting."

She stepped forward, slicing through the crowd with presence alone. "You think being mysterious is the same as being compelling. It’s not. It’s exhausting. No one knows who you are not even you. You spend more time reinventing your image than refining your craft. And while you're out there figuring yourself out, I’m going to crack your ribs one by one."

The sign for The LINQ blinked erratically behind her. "You're a walking question mark hoping the world doesn’t notice you’ve got no answer. But I noticed. I see the cracks. I see the fear. You’re not dangerous. You’re desperate. Desperate to matter. Desperate to be something other than a filler name on someone else’s win column."

She looked into the camera again, deadly calm. "You’re not a mystery, Kate. You’re a delay. A pause before something real. And I’m going to press play... and erase you."

Diamond: "The Forgotten Victory"

Alexandra now neared the end of the Strip, where the lights grew thinner and the tourists scarcer. She paused at the base of a blinking casino marquee, her silhouette sharp against the fading neon.

"Diamond. Ah, Diamond... the one I’ve already beaten. And yet, here we are again. Trying to shine like you weren’t already dulled. You want another shot? Fine. I’ll remind you what it felt like when I shattered your illusion the first time."

She brushed her hair back, the Vegas wind teasing it loose. "They say diamonds are forever. But you? You cracked. Under pressure, under fists, under me. You fought like you were precious. But I saw through the sparkle. I saw the fracture. You’re costume jewelry, Diamond. All flash, no foundation."

Alexandra began walking again, slower now, like delivering the final eulogy. "There’s no revenge story here. No grand comeback. You can train all you want, bleed all you need to, but when you step into that ring again, nothing will have changed. I’ll put you back in your place like muscle memory."

She stopped, turning toward the camera one last time. "So bring your shine. Bring the defiance. Bring the hope. I’ll crush it again. Not because I need to, but because I can."

She slipped her sunglasses back on, the city lights gleaming in the lenses.

"Vegas is all illusions. But I’m the only truth walking this Strip. Remember that."

With that, Alexandra turned and disappeared into the crowd.
8
Supercard Roleplays / “Denial of a Milestone.”
« Last post by Harper Mason on July 12, 2025, 09:48:36 PM »
Harpin’ On With Harper, Harper’s Loft, Las Vegas, Nevada
Wednesday the 9th of July 2025, 11:00am

*on camera, start vlog, promo part one*

This match has been a long time coming for Harper as Victoria has been a thorn in her side for the past few months and Harper’s quest to become the youngest ever champion in SCW history at the age of twenty had a limited time frame as her twenty first birthday was in September, two months away, it was finally time for the rubber match and Harper was ready.

”Let me tell you a story, a story that I’m sure Victoria has her own version of.” Harper stated as she leaned back in her chair. ”13th of April 2025, Climax Control 421 at that point? I was coming off my unsuccessful bid to win the Bombshell Internet Championship at Blaze of Glory in Bella Madison’s first defence and I’ll be the first to admit that I was wondering what the hell was I going to do now because that loss had sent me to the back of the line.

That was when Victoria took an interest in me and tried to turn me against Cassie and Josh, keyword being try.”
Harper stated as she brushed some hair over her shoulder. ”The following week a seeming tradition continued when I faced Kayla Richards in a non-title match that saw a third party get involved, last year it was Juliana DiMaria as she was enthralled in her feud with Kayla, this year? The shoe was on the other foot, someone with an interest in me showed up and that was after I had a confrontation with them earlier that night, yep, you guessed it, Victoria again.”

Harper stated as she folded her arms.

”After that? Cassie had her own match, a seemingly innocent match against Mercedes Vargas that ended up having implications for both me and Cassie, anyone who’s been following Cassie’s career over the past couple of months knows EXACTLY what I’m talking about as far as she’s concerned but me?” Harper frowned as she folded her arms. ”The moment Victoria swung Cassie into the path of my chair shot was the moment Victoria went from an annoying champion with an interest in me to a hated rival and what do you know? The following week I got entangled in the Queen’s Gambit Match.

Me, Lilith Locke and Song, three women, one championship belt and the champion fending us off, that would’ve been the end of it but two things happened.”
Harper added as she held up two of her fingers. ”First, there was that preview match, me and Victoria against Song and Lillith, and while we lost the match? Victoria was pinned by Lillith, now, obviously, she retained the title at Into the Void but here’s the important part: she pinned Song.”

Harper shook her head.

”Now, the history since Into the Void is recent enough that I shouldn’t really have to go into too much detail but to go into the broader strokes? I made it clear that the beef between me and Victoria wasn’t over when I cost her the match against Frankie Holiday at the start of the cycle but at the same time? Kate Steele had come out of obscurity and her sights set on the same title and she made that clear the following week.” Harper stated as she shook her head in disbelief. ”Jessie calls her the cockroach of Sin City Wrestling and I’m beginning to see why.

Yep, Kate’s been just as big a thorn in my side lately as Victoria.”
Harper stated as she let out a deep breath. ”That’s pretty much the story of my life over the past couple of weeks but not only has Victoria only win two of her recent matches but I’ve gotten the better of her twice, do you know what that means Victoria? The Queen’s Reign is on its last knees and I am going to deliver the final blow at Summer XXXTreme, she won’t reach the one year mark of the start of her reign, not if I can help it!”

*end vlog*

Jessie’s home gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Wednesday the 9th of July 2025, 14:00pm

To prepare for her upcoming title match Harper had been spending most of the week at the very gym that trained her: Hero Academy, but today she had paid a visit to her older cousin/SCW Hall of Famer Jessie Salco so she could catch up while getting the reps in.

”On one hand? It’s crazy to think that there’s every chance that I’ll be twenty one by the time Violent Conduct rolls around.” Harper commented to Jessie as she sat down on the ring apron and Jessie nodded. ”On the other hand it means that I’m running out of time on the whole “goal to become the youngest champion in SCW History” is running out ad fast.”

”Look, even if you don’t beat Victoria at the cruise? There’s still the whole month of August and the last couple of weeks of July between now and September.” Jessie responded with a nod as she walked up to the ring apron, Jessie’s pride in Harper evident on the thirty six tear old wrestling veteran’s face. ”They’ll be other opportunities to reach that goal because you generated a lot of hype for yourself with this feud between you and Victoria.”

”I know but it feels like Summer XXXTreme is my best opportunity to get my name in the record books.” Harper admitted with a nod as she brushed some hair over her shoulder. ”Everyone’s talking about Victoria reaching her first year anniversary as champion like it’s an inevitability but you know better than anyone that nothing’s guaranteed in this sport.”

”Not only do I know it but I’ve lived it more times than I care to count.” Jessie admitted with a frown and Harper couldn’t help but pick up on some bitterness in Jessie’s voice. ”But if nothing else? That’s great motivation for you Harper, everyone’s looking at you like you’re going to be yet another name in a long line of failed challengers, especially since you’ve failed to defeat Victoria twice before.”

”Yeah but I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again, she hasn’t pinned or submitted me in either of those attempts.” Harper responded as she folded her arms. ”First title match against her was a Last Bombshell Standing Match, then in the Queen’s Gambit Match? She pinned Song.” Harper added as she folded her arms. ”And sure, I had a hand in her losing one of those matches, but Victoria’s win/loss record speaks for itself.”

”It also means Victoria will be motivated to get back on track.” Jessie pointed out with a frown and Harper nodded. ”To say nothing of the fact that she’s got a consistent track record of losing a big match before her next defence and managing to come out on top afterwards: happened with Luna, which happened to be Victoria’s first loss, then she lost the Queen’s Gambit tag match.”

”Yeah, but this is the first time she’s lost twice in a row since joining SCW, even if I helped Frankie win that first match it’s gotta count for something.” Harper stated as she brushed some hair over her shoulder. ”And she beat Cassie sure but I still had the last laugh.”

”Again, more fuel for her fire.” Jessie responded as she shook her head. ”I will be at Summer XXXTreme, after I missed last year’s show because of my pregnancy I’m not missing a second Summer XXXTreme in a row, and I will be cheering you on, but you’ve done just as much to antagonize Victoria over the past cycle, you need to be able to dish it out just as well as you can take it.”

”Trust me, I plan on it.” Harper nodded before she rolled into the ring to continue her training.

Harpin’ On With Harper, Jessie’s Home Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Wednesday the 9th of July 2025, 16:00pm

*on camera, start vlog, promo part two*

As Harper got ready to talk about her upcoming title match against Victoria Lyons for the Bombshell Roulette Championship we can see that she has a lot on her mind.

”Legacy vs. the future, that’s what this match boils down to Victoria, the legacy you’ve left on the Bombshell Roulette Division against the future that will ensue when I take that title from you in two weeks.” Harper commented as she leaned against the ring ropes, blowing a stray strand of her long and wavy dirty blonde hair out of her face. ”Some would accuse you of killing the division because you made the division all about you, me? I see things differently.

The way I see it? Those who have been accusing you of killing the Bombshell Roulette Division were too intimidated to do what I’ve been doing over the past month or so: take the fight too you.”
Harper added as she flipped some hair over her shoulder,. ”Which is a nice way of saying that I’ve been kicking your ass more than once! And you know what? It’s well deserved.”

Harper added as she flipped some hair over her shoulder.

”It’s a simple fact of wrestling Victoria: you hold a title and suddenly? There’s a huge ass target on your back and every Bombshell and their momma comes out of the woodwork to try to take the title from you! But after you survived the Ultimate X Over the Pool Match at last year’s Summer XXXTreme, people started to realize that you weren’t a fluke and here we are almost a year later, playing the same old song and fucking dance!” Harper added as she marched to the middle of the ring, her arms crossed. ”So allow me to modify what I initially said!

They say you killed the Bombshell Roulette Division and you know what Victoria? They are fucking right!”
Harper stated angrily as she spat to the matt. ”My cousin Jessie cut her teeth in the Roulette Division, my first title match in SCW was for the Bombshell Roulette Championship! I see this division as a lifeline to the bombshells who are just breaking into SCW, Bombshells like myself, Cassie, Amelia Reynolds, Joanne Canelli, Diamond Caldwell, the list goes on but how can they do that when a fucking egomaniac with a god complex is holding onto the Bombshell Roulette Championship with an iron fist?!”

Harper let out several deep breaths as she glared at the camera.

”I know I pride myself on being the nice girl of the Bombshell Division, a young woman who girls the world over can look up to as a role model, not this time! not after everything you’ve put me through, not after you’ve grounded the division’s momentum to a screeching halt!” Harper added as a small smirk appeared on her lips. ”I have been waiting three months to finally get you one on one, inside the six sided ring and with no one else in my path! Kate came close to ruining that but the bosses had other plans for that bleach blonde idiot and now? It’s just you and me.

You started this whole thing by trying to hunt me, turn me into someone I’m not, someone who is just like you.”
Harper added as she shook her head. ”How ironic is it that your attempts to mould me in your image is what led to the beginning of the end of your reign Victoria? Now I’m hunting you and the prize at stake is the belt that’s been around your waist for so long I’m surprised you don’t have any tan lines! How fast can you run away from me Victoria? Because once that bell rings? You’ll have nowhere to hide bitch!”

*end vlog*

Working out with Josh, Josh’s Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Thursday the 10th of July 2025, 18:00pm

Today, Harper was focussed on getting as many reps in as she could before she boarded the Summer XXXTreme Cruise Liner on Sunday morning for her second ever Summer XXXTreme event and right now? That meant chatting with Josh as she lifted weights.

”It’s funny, last year I was bemoaning the fact that my feud with Alicia was what likely kept me out of the Ultimate X Match.” Harper commented to Josh as she lifted a hand weight and he nodded, Harper wasn’t exactly a big girl but she was still fairly ripped and athletic and for her small size? Deceptively strong as she demonstrated when she got the much larger Bobbie Dahl up for the Encore Set to win their match at High Stakes the previous year. ”This year I was expecting to be in the Ultimate X Match with Kate and Victoria but instead? Mercedes is defending the Bombshell Internet Title in the annual Ultimate X Match, Kate’s in that Double or Nothing match and I’m getting a one on one match with Victoria.”

“There’s always next year Harper, remember that.” Josh reminded Harper and she nodded in response before she did another rep. “And this match is a blessing and a curse, it leaves Victoria with no where to hide if she does lose but the same goes for you.”

”And unless the wheel lands on a stip that doesn’t involve a pin or submission? My whole “unpinned against Victoria” argument goes out the ship’s window in that scenario.” Harper nodded in response to Josh’s comment before she set down one of the hand heights. ”You got a heavier one I can use?”

“Sure, hold on.” Josh nodded in response before he fetched a heavier hand weight for Harper. “Trying to build up your strength?”

”Victoria isn’t as heavy as someone like Bobbie Dahl, then again, who is?” Harper asked sarcastically as she started working out with the heavier weight. ”But Victoria still has a slight weight advantage on me, everyone knows me for my speed, athleticism, and kicks but I bet I can bench more than some of the guys on the male roster!”

“I’m not getting into that debate but you are strong, there’s no doubt about that.” Josh nodded in response as he folded his arms. “But that alone won’t win you the Roulette Title, you need to stay a step ahead of a competitor like Victoria at all times.”

”Because I’m only in my third full year as a wrestler while Victoria’s been around the block, I know.” Harper responded with a nod as she continued to work out. ”I’ve had stuff like that on my mind since the match between me and Victoria was made official, but if a child shall lead the Bombshell Roulette Division to the promised land? So be it! Child being a relative term since I’m two months away from being legally able to drink but still!”

“If anything? Your young age will be your biggest asset against Victoria.” Josh nodded in response and Harper grinned as soon as she realized where this was going. “Because it means she’ll underestimate you.”

”Let her.” Harper responded with a smirk before she resumed her workout. ”It’ll make my win over her all the sweeter.” Harper added before the conversation drifted off.

Harpin’ On With Harper, Josh’s Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Thursday the 10th of July 2025, 19:00pm

*on camera, start vlog, final promo part*

As Harper gets ready for the third and final promo part of the week one period we can see that the Florida native is focussed.

”See Victoria? I can be nice, but even as a young girl in the insane world that is professional wrestling? Especially in the wild world of the Bombshell Roulette Division? That is something else compared to me when the bell rings, girls still look up to me bit I want them to see me a strong woman, a high school wrestling standout, a black belt in taekwondo, someone whose father proudly served in the military throughout her youth, in other words? Someone they can aspire to be when they grow up.” Harper stated as she folded her arms. ”You on the other hand? Should be a cautionary tale, that the bully always gets what’s coming to them in the end.

Do me a favour Victoria and don’t mistake my kindness for weakness! I’m coming into this match expecting a fight and after everything you’ve put me through since arriving in SCW? You’d better deliver.”
Harper added as she folded her arms. ”Don’t let this legendary, career defining reign end in a whimper Victoria, every bombshell who challenged before me will go “wait, is that it?!” otherwise, but as I usher in the new age for the Bombshell Roulette Division? You will pay for everything you’ve done to me over the past thirteen months or so with interest!”

Oh yeah!

”What? Did you think I forgot about the first slight against me Victoria? The time you used your Queen for a Day powers to book me in a handicap match against Alexandra Callaway and Juliana DiMaria just because I pay tribute to my mentors whenever I close a promo?” Harper asked sarcastically as she rolled her head around for a second or two. ”Guess what Victoria? I hold a grudge and I’ve been chomping at the bit to get my revenge on you for that crap for over a year!

The stuff you’ve done since that night in Iceland? That’s just the icing on the cake.”
Harper added as she folded her arms. ”Just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’m taking any more of your shit Victoria! Because for as nice as I am? When I want something, no, when I NEED something, there’s little that can get in my damn way, and guess what Vicky? That something is the Bombshell Roulette Title!”

It’s that simple.

”Ever since I held it aloft after I wiped you, Kate, and a few rent-a-cops out with a suicide dive? I’ve had a taste of what it’s like to hold gold, I’ve smelled it too and it smells like your cheap perfume!” Harper added as she shook her head. ”Definitely getting rid of that small after the cruise, it’s like it’s been right next to me this whole time yet it hasn’t!

It's not in my possession right now Victoria but after Summer XXXTreme I will be departing the boat with the championship in my hands!”
Harper added with a smirk as she flipped some hair over her shoulder. ”A new age is upon the Bombshell Roulette Division Victoria and when I take that gold from you? I will be the master of my own destiny!”

And with that Harper decided to wrap things up.

”Kate is wrong about a lot of things but when she said you’ve held that title for too long? She was right, I guess it’s true what they say about broken clocks.” Harper added as she flipped some hair over her shoulder. ”This match I about more than winning my first title in SCW Victoria, it’s about more than revenge, though in a way? This is my ultimate revenge to you.

This is about the Denial of a Milestone! Everyone talks about you reaching one year as Bombshell Roulette Champion like it’s inevitable, but here’s the thing, nothing lasts forever and we’ve already seen that your reign is on its last legs.”
Harper added as she walked right up to the camera. ”Come Summer XXXTreme? I will drive the final nail in its coffin because the world needs two things: a new hero and a new Bombshell Roulette Champion and her name is “The Slaytanic Avenger” Harper Mason! See you on the cruise!”

Harper turned off her camera as the scene fades.
9
Supercard Roleplays / Shattering My Inner Darkness
« Last post by Andrea Hernandez on July 12, 2025, 09:19:26 PM »
I really didn’t want to think about SCW at one point.

It wasn’t long ago I was in my backyard, alone: ignoring texts and calls from people wanting to check up on me, not enjoying anything positive, including the fact that I recently won a 5th world title outside of SCW. I could only think about that last match.

I really didn’t want to tell anyone it was destroying me on the inside.


“Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse…”

The shame inside of me was spreading like a virus. That feeling of my heart and soul being sucked out of me after Summer Xtreme five years ago was a feeling that I was hoping to never feel again.

But there I was, just in a numb silence, the unthinkable thought that I was able to push off for months but now I couldn’t…

“Summer of Hell 2.0…”

To say that I was in a panic wondering what I had to do to avoid that was an understatement and yet, in that moment of weakness where I was praying to my father, or someone in heaven, or anything spiritual that may exist, I got an answer…

…from the worst source imaginable.

“Give it up, Andrea…” I could hear the doubt from the demon of insecurity that finally resurfaced for the first time in years.  “...it’s time to admit that this ‘redemption’ you’ve been doing has failed…”

“Shut up…” I said to that demon inside of my own mind.

“When are you going to admit that you’re never going to have what you want from SCW? Why do you have to be stupid to think that things were ever going to be different when things are going to end up exactly the same? Face it. You’re on the bridge to nowhere. You’ve already given in to the same shit you gave into 5 years ago so you might as well give in and let me out…”

“...I can’t do that to myself or to the people that care about me again…” I said, weakly resisting.

“If you’re not going to let me take over, then leave…” the demon inside of me retorted. “...you did it before. You’d never have to worry about SCW and all its stresses ever again…”

“You’re right… I wouldn’t…”

“Now you’re listening. You’re too stubborn to leave and in that case, there’s only one thing to do. Let me out, Andrea.”

The tears were falling down my face. There was a majority piece of me that had already thrown in the towel. I knew I had too much pride to just walk away and “prove everyone else right”. But after what just happened, I didn’t feel like I could go back and face the music. It felt like the only option that I had was to let the darkness within me win out and just embrace the same old movie all over again.

“LET ME OUT!!!! You know you can’t change the narrative. You know you’ll always be a pariah and you’ll never be respected. You know the slander is never going to stop and you’re never going to get anyone else to see you as you want to be seen…”

Being so shot and broken as I was, what was the use of resisting anymore? The demon in me was by no means lying and I always knew what it just said as fact even though for months I had been denying it to myself.

“Don’t you remember the cruise? Five years ago?” the demon inside me reminded me. That’s where you bottomed out. You might as well let it happen on that cruise again. If you continue to resist me, everything’s going to get worse and you’ll be seen as a joke… just like Crystal Hilton…”

“...that’s where you’re wrong…” I meekly resisted as the tears continued to flow. I was feeling myself about to break into a complete anxiety attack and it was clear that I was triggered back into the same brutal trauma I suffered through five years ago.

“Stop trying to justify your failure! When I was in control, you were the most dominant you’ve ever been in SCW…”

“I NEVER won a world title there when I was the most hated bitch in the company…”

“But you weren’t suffering so much and having your passion sucked out of you, am I right?”

“Leave me alone… just leave me alone…”

“Not until you let me out or get the fuck out…”

My internal conflict was interrupted by my phone ringing very loud. I saw it was a text from Myra with an “urgency” mark on it. I figured it was an emergency so I read it.

“MIAMI! MY SCHOOL! ASAP!” she wrote in all caps. I knew this side of Myra when she was very pissed off and suddenly, I had a completely different reason to have an anxiety attach. “I am SO PISSED at you and tbh, been disappointed in you for MONTHS! Get your ass here. NOW!”

I exhaled feeling relief, yet worry knowing I had angered Myra somehow. For now, the demon within me had left me alone. However, Myra Rivers, for all that she can do to help, is a completely different monster when she’s pissed off at you…

Two days later…

Normally, I’d look forward to going to South Beach but…

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Myra asked me the moment she saw me. “Fortunately, I did this on a day where I know my students aren’t here but… are you fucking kidding me?”

“Fuck her…” I can already hear my inner darkness saying.

“Don’t say a FUCKING WORD, Andrea…” Myra added while my anxiety was increasing with her anger. “I know exactly what the fuck is wrong with you. A match like that, you don’t throw away… unless you’re allowing something so fucking stupid and irrelevant eat at you which you have been for months now. Even subconsciously, all you can think about is how you don’t want everything to play out the same and yet you’re literally manifesting it…”

“Oh FUCK OFF…” I thought to myself. My eyes widened not because of what Myra was saying, but because that was a moment where the darkness in me and I merged.

“...in fact, the moment the Chamber was even announced, you gave up!”

Anger was building in me even further.

“Don’t let her talk to you this way…” that darkness told me. “Who is she to say a fucking thing about your SCW career?”

“You decided you were going to just lie down and quit before the match even happened and then you spiraled further afterward. Your passion DIED in that chamber, Andrea…”

“Hit her where it hurts, Andrea. You know you want to. You know that there’s a piece of you that could never stand her anyway…”

“You’ve done nothing but coast ever since, sticking with the same platitudes and playing it way too fucking safe… when you actually TRY! You weren’t even TRYING in that match and now you’re over there giving me that stupid pity face and dealing with being torn up inside over YOUR OWN FUCKING FAULT!”

I was biting the inside of my lower lip with rage as she continued.

“You need to wake the fuck up and stop holding yourself back because what I saw in that last match was someone that didn’t even want to be there all because you’re rising to the same shit that plunged you into the darkness five years ago. What do you have to say for yourself, embarrassing yourself like that?”

I didn’t have an immediate answer being so torn in my internal conflict. Myra just scoffs, showing how annoyed she was with me.

“Typical. You’ve never been able to handle criticism well, justified in this case or bullshit like all the shit you deal with. This is why I didn’t want you to go back to SCW because I KNEW this was going to happen…”

That did it for me.

“You quit SCW! Why the FUCK do you have a right to say anything, you self-righteous BITCH?”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“Get her…” that darkness told me. “GET HER!”

“YOU, Myra are the LAST person that should be talking about ANYONE giving up especially as far as SCW is concerned because that’s what YOU did three years ago, REMEMBER?”

“Oh no, you are NOT deflecting this back at me! You don’t get to throw that shit back at me just because you want to run away from your fucking problems.”

I merely scoff at this without so much batting an eye and I can see it was Myra’s eyes widening, almost as if she was realizing what side of me she was dealing with.

“Running away from my problems… says the weakling that had to QUIT because she kept letting down her daughter…”

“THERE YOU GO… FUCK HER!!!!” that darkness blurted out while Myra was seething with some deep-seated anger. 

“Andrea…” Myra let out a deep breath doing everything in her power to avoid tapping into HER demons. “...you need to wake the fuck up or get the fuck out because that performance was pathetic of you and you deserve BETTER than to sleepwalk through a match just because you’re in your feelings about what other people think of you.”

“Whatever…”

“Get the fuck out of my sight, Andrea…”

Myra walked away from me and I didn’t even bother saying a word to her.

“Remember…” my inner darkness began to remind me. “...you were far more dominant without HER holding you back…”

Internally, however, I was instantly feeling awful about the way I just treated her to the point where tears were forming in my eyes.

“Fuck her… you don’t need her. You need ME… let me out. It’s the only way!”

I wanted to catch up to her and apologize, but I knew the damage was done already. I walked out of her school feeling more defeated than ever…

Last Sunday…

I was packing up for the cruise even though I knew I didn’t even want to go. That familiar dread was filling me as I NEVER liked going on it nor did I like the Summer XXXtreme event itself. I had just about finished packing the last bag that I had while I was drowning in the guilt that I had over how I treated Myra and the feeling of worthlessness and completely undeserving of the match that I was to partake in on the cruise. I took a few deep breaths trying to keep that internal demon from saying anything to me because after that fight with Myra, I had already had enough.

“Andrea?” I heard the familiar voice of my mother. I looked at her and I could see she had something in her purse, though I didn’t pay it any mind aside from that.

“Look… Mom… this really isn’t the time to talk to me.”

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been struggling and the way your body language and happiness falls off a cliff whenever you either mention SCW or have to go to one of their events…”

“Mom…” I briefly paused to let out a sigh. “I’ve already gotten the ‘get out there’ speech from Myra and I KNOW you hate that company even worse than she does.”

“I wasn’t going there, actually…”

I widened my eyes with surprise.

“It would be in your worst interest to leave because then you wouldn’t live with yourself and it’d affect you for the rest of your career and they’re not worth that. I know that you dread the cruise and you have nothing but bad memories but you’re not going to let those memories nor are you going to let those people win…”

“Mom…” I said with a very audible groan. “...I appreciate that you’re TRYING to help and that you’re rising above that ‘leave’ nonsense, but considering how distant you’ve been from this whole thing on your own volition, I’m not sure how you can help me.”

“I beg to differ, Andrea. The cruise has bad memories for you all because of one experience you had five years ago. Nothing bad has happened to you since then, but every year you always dread it and I know for you, that dread is even higher this year because of what you’ve been going through for months. You can fight through this, just like you did five years ago.”

“I’m not sure if I can….” I admitted. “Myra and I got into this huge fight the other day and one of the first, and worst, symptoms of me plunging back into the darkness I was in before is her and I being at odds, which we are right now.”

“It’s a symptom of the fact that you’ve given up…” my mother says with a concerned look on her face. “You gave up after High Stakes, didn’t you?”

My eyes widened with surprise when I realized how perceptive she was.

“That’s where it started, but winning the title and then being thrown into a chamber is where it really got bad for me. I gave up before the bell rang on that one and it’s been downhill since. Now? I just want to leave again and never go back because I could care less about what my ‘legacy’ is in that company. It’s never going to be positive anyway…”

“Running away won’t solve anything, but not caring about your legacy is a good start because it stops you from caring too much about what other people think. Take this with you…”

My mother pulls out a notebook and hands it to me.

“Your father wrote something in there for you five years ago after you lost the title and he wanted me to give that to you.”

“Why didn’t you give it to me then?”

My mother sighs with some regret.

“He died right after he wrote that and in all the grief, I completely forgot about it until I found it the other day doing some attic digging…”

I glanced at the notebook with a numb surprise going through me.

“Knowing what he wrote, it’ll be the best thing for you. Don’t read it until you’re on the cruise but until then? Stay strong, alright?”

“Yeah… thanks…”

My mother briefly embraces me before she walks out the door. Unfortunately, as I looked at the notebook, that internal demon spring into action again.

“You’re always going to be a letdown to DADDY! You KNOW how to make all the pain and suffering go away.”

Suddenly, the room got REALLY cold. I thought I was about to have a huge panic attack, but I heard another voice in the room.

“Don’t listen to that, Andrea… whatever you do… don’t listen…”

“Dad? Is that you?” I asked out loud. “I won’t listen to that darkness. I have to read what you have to say first…”

Suddenly, the room got warmer and brighter and that tension (and darkness in me) was gone.

And for the first time in months, I had hope…

July 12

I hadn’t signaled for the camera to come on yet. I was sitting on the edge of my hotel room bed mulling things over and thinking about the notebook that was in front of me. On one hand, I wanted to open it and read it right then and there with the camera on. It felt like maybe it could give me the boost that I needed.

However, there was a pit in my stomach that knew that doing so would open the door for my opponents, upcoming and in the future, to pick at and the last thing that I wanted to do was to even give anyone the power to pick at the relationship with my father. I signaled for my cameraman to come get the notebook. He came to grab it and set it down on the drawer behind him.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a bit searching for any hint of that “demon” inside of me that was pushing me to give up and give in. My shoulders felt light. That’s when I knew I didn’t have to worry about it and that I could express my thoughts. Difficult as it was considering recent events, I signaled to the cameraman to turn it on and with that, I really knew I had to choose my own words carefully not because I wanted to avoid giving my opponents “red meat”, but because I had to focus on getting the right message cross for me and nobody else.

“Elephants in the room aren’t fun to address. So, let’s address the most recent one and work backwards. The last match I had? I blew it. Did I give it my best effort? Absolutely not. Hell, I didn’t even want to be there. Truth be told, I HAVEN’T wanted to be there for a while. When I was in the ring for that triple threat match, I was so out of it that I literally had this feeling of ‘I don’t care anymore’ and to those friends, family and fans that were expecting the very best out of me, not only did you not come anywhere close to getting that, but you haven’t gotten that for months. For those that look up to me, for those that depend on me for any reason, for those that have done everything in their power to help me do whatever it takes to be at my best for any given match, I sincerely apologize for phoning it in as I have for a while because… well…

There’s no excuse for it. I can deep dive into so many reasons, but there’s no excuse for it. That triple threat match, I dogged it all because I was all up in my feelings about this place, the people in it, what people were saying about me, angry at the world, angry at this person for treating me like I wasn’t shit all because they only bothered to go off of an inaccurate card description, angry at that person for basically burying me even though I did nothing to them because they were up in their feelings themselves over “slights” that were just them taking any little fucking thing personal even when 99 percent of it had nothing to do with them, angry at the events of 5 years ago that I suffered through, angry because of how hard I was pushing to be better than that time period of my life only for others to shit on it and say ‘oh you’re still the same’, angry at this person for calling my title win a Cinderella run, angry at that person for calling me a paper champion on social media, anger, anger, nothing but anger and it was slowly driving me into the dirt without me realizing it until it was too late.

Something that I was taught by my mother once was ‘be the light you wish to shine’. With everything that I’ve mentioned just now, I’ve been anything but that and all I’ve done is rise to it and feed into it when on MANY occasions that I’ve been in this company over the years, I’ve proven that I’m above all that. I will be the first to admit that I haven’t done the best job at rising against adversity ever since High Stakes aside from the time that I was able to beat Kayla Richards for the world championship and I KNOW that’s largely because of my own doing so after everything that’s been going on? I’m going to straight up fucking say this.

I WILL be that light. I WILL be DONE with the nonsense. I’m not rising to the bullshit again. I don’t care what odds are against me in this match. I don’t care WHO I am facing. Hell, if you’re listening to this waiting for when your name is mentioned so that you can talk your trash and start doing the same old fucking shit that everyone else does, stop wasting your time and exit out of this video because I am NOT going to rise to that crap and I am NOT going to bore our audience by doing your typical “list off everyone and say why they won’t win”. Not only is that cliche, but it’s also a pointless exercise because in a match like this, why the fuck do you want to focus on so many other people when the truth of the matter is, priority number one should ALWAYS be YOU and ONLY you and how YOU’RE going to handle this match and how YOU are going to live, learn and grow from any recent adversity that you’ve dealt with. I’m not going to do that. I get that the odds are going to be long as it is based on the numbers alone, but to waste time worrying and focusing on other people that I know are going to come at me with the same old shit that I’ve heard millions of times before or pick at my last match exaggerating it the way everyone else in this fucking locker room fucking exaggerates every little fucking thing…”

I knew that I was starting to get heated with the increased profanity. With that, I took a deep breath being determined as hell NOT to let that demon inside of me come out again. I briefly remembered how it suddenly came out of me going into a match with Kiera Fisher nearly five years ago and it took me two years to seal that demon away.

“Focus girl… focus…” I told myself in my own mind. “Don’t let these bitches get to you. They’re not worth it. They never were.”

I took another deep breath before I continued.

“Priority number one is going to be me. Take it how you see it. I don’t give a fuck anymore. I am DONE allowing other people to define me.  That was the last time I am going to allow myself to fail in such a bullshit fashion. From now on, I am no longer going to rise to the bullshit so say what you want to say about me because not only do I KNOW in my heart that you’re wrong and that you’ll never define me but… spoiler alert… I’m not even going to bother watching what you all have to say about me. Yes, I KNOW, I’m breaking like an unwritten rule of this business. GASP! BLASPHEMY! How DARE she?!?! Actually, if I’m breaking anything, it’s a mold that everyone cow tows to just because it’s “supposed to be the way”. But ultimately? I’m not going to listen or watch anything any of my opponents have to say about me and I am damn sure not going to respond to any of it because I am NOT going to allow ONE person in this match to define my feelings or to define my truth. I am not going to allow myself to get worked up over some bullshit that someone else said because something that I have really wised up to is the fact that whatever you do, it doesn’t matter. Whoever you are, doesn’t matter. Someone, somewhere is always going to grasp at straws and pick at anything to tear you down because they have a vapid imagination to even do anything differently.

I am going to focus on winning this match and nothing else because at the end of the day, when it comes to my story in this business and my story in this company, it’s ME! It’s nobody else but me! Hell, I’ll be the first person to admit that I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to my success here and the truth of the matter is, and I KNOW most of you if not all of you are going to HATE what I’m about to say: not ONE of you is my greatest enemy or my greatest opponent in this match… it’s ME! I own the fact that in order to win this match, I WILL have to overcome my worst, deepest insecurities within myself and to snap back into that fire that I’m known for KNOWING that when I do, it STILL won’t guarantee that I win this thing. Trust me, I know that some people are going to come at me harder in that ring than others due to history or whatnot, but ultimately, not one of you is going to be able to cripple me. The only one in that ring that can cripple me is… me… which is exactly what I did the last match I had and I’m NOT going to do it again and I’m NOT going to do it anymore. Not ONE of you is going to put me through hell because five years ago, I endured, I overcame, and I defeated the worst hell I’ve ever been through in my career if not my entire life. Am I proud of how I did that? No, but I still overcame all that  and compared to what I wen through five years ago, this doesn’t even come CLOSE to being that.

So by all means, whisper and gossip and lie and misinterpret and make yourself look like a damn fool. When I win this match, you’ll only have yourselves to blame because I WILL NOT make this about proving other people wrong. I don’t NEED to prove anything to fucking anybody but ME! I will NOT make this match about silencing critics, or other people, or anyone else because I will NOT be granting people that aren’t worth my feelings that kind of power over me anymore! That’s why with every last one of you in this match, I’m not addressing you one by one or doing what I would typically do and pick point a weakness or a recent match that you had or some piddly little thing that I can pull out of thin air as “proof” as to why you’re not going to beat me or why you’re not better than me. Honestly? It’s a tired exercise and people as a whole need to think outside the box when it comes to that. Rather than focus on the perceived weaknesses of everyone else, I will focus on my own weaknesses, I will working on strengthening myself to overcome those weaknesses and I will focus on my own strengths, on my own abilities and what I am truly capable of once I overcome this career long, if not life long, mental block in me that holds me back over and over and over again. I’ve reached a point where I’m fed up with that. I’m 31 now. I’m old enough and beyond experienced enough to finally break free from all of it and that’s what I am going to do by the time this match hits no matter how hard that is and how hard it may become over the next week. What just happened to me is where I draw the line. I’ll do whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, to break free from those last mental chains that have been so damn stubborn for years and I am going to find a way to win this.

Five years ago, I allowed losing the SCW Bombshells World Championship to someone I SHOULD’VE beaten… but I didn’t because I got in my own fucking way… to define me and it broke me to the point where I became someone that wasn’t me at all and never should’ve been in the first place. I should’ve known better than to make such a garbage, stupid mistake like that. Now? I’m NOT going to make that same mistake again, not anymore. It’s high time I started to stand up for myself, to strengthen myself, to do whatever it takes to ensure that I never allow one fucking person to define me again and while this may be overdue for a wrestler of my caliber, I will own that to kingdom come and back, it’s better late than never and no matter how this match goes for me, I’m not going to fade into the night and I am not going to allow a single loss, a single ounce of adversity or anything like that to turn into an embarrassment that defines me in the long run. This is where the slate is wiped clean, where I learn every single piece about who the fuck I am and I made damn sure that I become the light within myself that I’ve starved to have for many, many years. No more being conservative. No more holding back. No more weighing myself down. Never again. This is where I take that stand and this match, win or lose? It’s going to mark a turning point for me for the very long term and for a very long time to come…”

I signaled for my cameraman to cut and he gave me the thumbs up ensuring me that the camera was just shut off.

“I haven’t seen or heard that kind of fire out of you in months…” he said as he handed me the notebook.

“That was just the start…” I said as I glanced at my father’s notebook and started to think about how I was going to conquer my inner demons and worst insecurities. “...just… the start…”

I took a deep breath to come down from that fiery speech I just made before I made my exit from the hotel room.
10
~*~Burn that Bitch in Effigy~*~
Backstage during the last Climax Control

The Colorado night was clear, if a little humid, for the particular time, but at least the stars were sharp against the summer night as the velvet sky darkened even more above Suplizio Field. The roaring of field noise faded in the distance as the show still took place, replaced out here by the low, grating squeak of dolly wheels rolling across concrete.

Bella Madison stood just outside the loading bay doors, her arms crossed over her chest, hair pulled back with the strands that fell from the loose bun that she had tied in. She watched as the SCW ringside crew wheeled away what remained of Mercedes Vargas’ effigy, a melted mannequin placed in a now charred director style chair, scorched beyond recognition, bits of singed synthetic hair clinging to its blackened skull. A stuffed plush leech dangled from one twisted plastic shoulder, bobbing with every jostle of the dolly.

It smelled faintly of burnt plastic and cheap perfume. Bella inhaled deeply anyway, satisfied.

She didn’t look away until the dolly hit a seam in the pavement and jostled the effigy sideways, one limp arm flopping toward the ground like it was trying to wave goodbye.

For a moment, she let herself enjoy the satisfaction, the primal, cleansing thrill of it. Watching that stand-in for Mercedes Vargas, and for everything she represented, reduced to ashes had been almost therapeutic.

Almost.

She drew in a long breath and released it slowly, tasting the acrid tang of burnt polyester on the back of her tongue. She didn’t even turn when footsteps approached behind her, the tread familiar as her own heartbeat.

“[/color]Well...” Malachi’s voice was warm, low, threaded with an amused edge, "Are we feeling better about things now?

Bella tilted her head as she kept her eyes on the effigy, her lips twitching into a half-smirk, "
Meh? I mean, it was fun,” She finally glanced over at him, her sky blue eyes glinting under the parking lot lights. A breeze lifted a few stray strands of her hair, carrying away the last curls of smoke, "But no,” she added, "I’m not satisfied, not yet at least.

Malachi leaned one shoulder against a concrete pillar, crossing his arms as he studied her. His dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, the hair that had gotten crazy long even for him, considering he used to keep it short and tight for years, even when they got married, "
Not even after roasting Vargas and her... parasite? By the way, we all got a good chuckle out of that,” he asked, jerking his bearded chin toward the now-distant mannequin, which was being unceremoniously loaded into a dumpster.

Bella exhaled, a dry little laugh escaping her, "
Setting that plastic bitch on fire felt amazing. But I won’t be satisfied until Mercedes is gone back to her hole and I’m holding my Internet Championship again.

Malachi’s smirk widened, proud and a little wicked, "
Atta girl.

Bella stepped closer, her voice low as she poked a finger lightly into the center of his chest, "
I’m done biting my tongue, Mal. She keeps acting like she’s some fucking queen bee around here? I’m going to remind her exactly who built MY kingdom brick by brick while she was busy reciting the same tired lines for ten damn years while contributing nothing of substance but hot fucking air.

His grin softened into something fonder as he tilted his head, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes, "
Remind her all you want, mo chroí. Just save a little of that fire for Summer Xxxtreme.

A dangerous spark lit up Bella’s eyes, "
Oh, I have only just begun, and by the time I am somewhat close to being finished, I plan on burning the whole fucking place down.

Malachi chuckled under his breath, sliding an arm around her shoulders and steering her gently back toward the building, "
Jesus, your da would be so proud.

That caused Bella’s eyes to shine even brighter, “
He already messaged me with some critiquing but he loved it.

Malachi just laughed and held her a little closer, “
Of course he did. Come on, you lil pyromaniac. You’re buying dinner.

Bella shot him a look as they walked, one brow raised, “
Fine. But I’m ordering dessert first. I earned it.

Their laughter echoed off the concrete walls as they disappeared into the glow of the arena lights, leaving only the faint scent of smoke lingering in the cool summer air.

-----

~*~There is ALWAYS Room for Improvement~*~
Back to New York for a bit

The humid buzz of a late New York afternoon clung to the trees like static, heavy with the promise of summer rain. Out past the house and down a worn gravel path, the old barn sat like a cathedral built for war. The doors were thrown open wide, letting in sunlight and the absolute thinnest of breezes, that did nothing to mask the low, rhythmic sounds of effort inside or the humidity.

Inside, Bella Madison hung suspended from a set of thick ropes, her arms trembling from the strain. Sweat dripped from her brow, soaking into the neckline of her tank top. Her jaw was tight, her focus absolute. A flash of muscle in her arms, a hissed breath, and she hauled herself forward to the next grip: a vertical board with narrow fingerholds carved along the edges.

She clung there, fingers curled like talons, her manicured nails be damned, before launching herself up and grabbing hold of the next obstacle in the sequence: spinning nunchuck handles that dangled from chains. Her body twisted mid-air as she swung and caught them, just barely.

The landing was a stumble. She dropped into a low crouch, panting hard, then pushed herself to stand.

"Again," she muttered to no one in particular, voice hoarse, "Run it again."

The barn, once a place for simple sparring drills and free weight workouts, had been transformed into something bordering on absurd. Metal scaffolding and wood beams stretched across the ceiling in complex patterns. Monkey bars, cargo nets, pegboards, rope climbs, hanging rings. It looked less like a wrestling gym and more like a challenge designed by someone who wanted to break her, before the match ever had a chance.

But this? Bella had designed it herself, because the match at Summer Xxxtreme wasn’t just another wrestling bout. It was Ultimate X, over the pool. Which meant if she wanted to win back the SCW Bombshell Internet Championship, she wasn’t just facing Mercedes Vargas, she was also facing Lilith Locke. And gravity, and pain, and fear, and failure wasn’t an option.

Out in the middle of the barn, Alanah O’Connell stood with a stopwatch in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, brows raised as she watched her sister-in-law reset at the starting line, "You realize this setup looks like it belongs on TV, right?" Alanah asked, a hint of awe and concern laced in her voice, "Like, you could film a whole season of American Ninja Warrior in here."

Bella gave a quick shake of her arms, loosening the lactic acid burn, and shot a look over her shoulder, "Good," she said simply, "That’s the entire point."

She turned her attention back to the course and took off again—leaping, swinging, gripping, hauling herself through the gauntlet of obstacles that mirrored the demands of the Ultimate X match.

Mercedes isn’t going to out-talk me this time,” she grunted between breaths, "Lilith isn’t going to out-crazy me,” She launched up to a knotted rope that swayed under her weight, wrapping her legs around it to climb, "And no one, ABSOLUTELY no one, is going to out-train me.

Alanah watched her, shaking her head slowly, part impressed and part unsettled, "You’re going to kill yourself trying to get that title back."

From up in the rafters, where she was now maneuvering across a suspended beam with only her fingertips and a prayer, Bella grinned, "Better me than them.

Just as she dropped to the mat below with a hard thud, landing in a crouch, Malachi appeared from the far end of the barn, arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow arched, “Alright, love,” he called out, his Irish lilt thick, “So you can monkey-bar your way to freedom. But you think Mercedes or Lilith are just gonna let you climb that X without a fight?

Bella narrowed her eyes, "I’m counting on them trying.

Malachi strode over to a set of wooden crates stacked near the far wall, each one stenciled with heavy black letters: 75 LBS. He picked one up, effortlessly balancing it against his shoulder.

So,” he said, carrying it over to the rig, “What happens when the ropes start shaking? Or when they’re trying to pull you down? Or when you have to kick them off you in mid-climb?

Bella watched him warily, "Where exactly are you going with this?

Mal dropped the crate with a thud near the base of the rope climb, “Simple...” He pointed up at the rig, "You don’t just need arm strength. You need to be able to knock two grown-ass women off you, women who weigh as much as these.

He grabbed a pair of heavy sandbags from a rolling cart, each one marked 135 LBS—about the average weight of Mercedes and Lilith. He rigged them to a pivoting arm attached to the upper scaffold, swinging them so they’d dangle across the path Bella needed to climb.

New rule,” he said with a wicked grin, "You get past the spinning bars, you climb the rope, you get to the cross-beam… then you have to use your legs to knock these bastards off the path.

Bella stared at him, incredulous, "Are you kidding me right now?

Malachi stepped back, arms spread wide, "This is Ultimate X, Bells, over a pool. You think either of those two lunatics aren’t going to grab you mid-air and try to yank you down?

Bella glared, chest heaving as she wiped sweat from her brow.

Alanah let out a soft groan, "Jesus, you two are insane.

Mal just smiled, leaning in close enough to drop his voice, "You’re not just going to win this match because you’re faster. You’re gonna win because no matter what they throw at you, you’re still standing...Or hanging. Whatever.

Bella’s eyes flicked between Mal and the swaying sandbags. Slowly, a grin spread over her flushed face.

Alright,” she said, tightening her ponytail, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "Bring it the fuck on.

She leapt back onto the course.

Moments later, the barn echoed with the thud of sandbags being kicked off their pivots, the scrape of chains, and the low, feral laughter of a woman who’d decided she was going to be unstoppable, no matter how heavy the load.

Malachi just stood there, shaking his head, a glint of pride, and maybe a little terror, in his eyes. Meanwhile Alanah knew that they were indeed perfect for one another. He knew exactly who he’d married.

And Summer Xxxtreme wasn’t ready for her.

-----

~*~If Not...Then What’s Next?~*~
Rainy Afternoon

Rain pattered lightly against the windows of the O’Connell bedroom as Bella zipped the final suitcase closed. The muted grey sky outside cast a soft light across the room, glinting off the metal clasps of the luggage and the array of swimsuits, sundresses, and ring gear still strewn across the bed.

Malachi knelt beside an open duffel bag, carefully rolling up a couple of his T-shirts. He paused, glancing over his shoulder as Bella tried, unsuccessfully, to force a second pair of black boots into her carry-on.

Love,” he said, voice gentle but edged with amusement, “We’re going on a cruise, not into the bloody Himalayas.

Bella scowled, half her body weight leaning into the suitcase, "Have you met me?” she shot back, "I’m not showing up on that boat without options.

Mal chuckled under his breath and got to his feet, wiping his palms on his jeans. He watched her for a moment, the smile fading slightly as the silence stretched between them. The only sound was the faint tick of rain on glass and the rumble of the impending thunderstorm that was about to hit.

Bells,” he said finally, his tone shifting, “Can I ask you something without you getting mad at me?

She hesitated mid-shove, glancing up, "I mean I could say no but knowing you.” She smirked for a moment, because she knew what was coming with how he phrased it, “Sure babe, go ahead.

He crossed the space between them, bracing his hands lightly on her shoulders. His thumbs traced circles against the curve of her collarbone as he searched her face.

If...” he began, then stopped, exhaling. He tried again, "If things don't go your way at Summer Xxxtreme...if you don’t win the Internet title back, what’s next?

Bella’s expression didn’t falter right away. But the weight behind her eyes slipped through, carving a fine line between her brows. She swallowed, dropping her gaze to the floor, “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice softer than it had been in weeks, "I mean, I think I do, but...” She shook her head, "The truth is, I know this might be it, when it comes to the Internet Championship, at least. Two reigns, that’s not nothing.

Mal’s brows drew together, a flash of protectiveness sharpening his features, "That’s not failure either, Bella.

I know that Mal,” she murmured, sliding away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. She picked up one of Máire’s tiny stuffed animals, a battered blue elephant, and turned it over in her hands, "I’ve been in SCW for six years. I’ve had my moments. I’ve made my mark. But I also know how this business works.” Her thumb brushed across the plush ear, "They’re always looking for the next big thing. And if I’m not careful, that’s gonna end up being some part-time bitch riding in on a Queen for a Day contract, or Lilith Locke looking to make a name off me.

She lifted her eyes, fierce again, "And I’ll be damned if that’s how my name goes down in the books. I’ll be damned if Mercedes, of all people, gets to be the reason people say Bella Madison finally gave up.

Mal sat beside her, resting his forearms on his knees, "Then what are you fighting for, if it’s not just the belt?

Bella’s lips twisted into a half-smile, "Partially for us and the other part is for myself. My pride & everything I’ve built.” She huffed a humorless laugh, "I want that title back because I still feel in my heart of hearts that it’s mine. But more than that, I want people to remember that you don’t just push me aside. That you don’t count me out because I’ve got a kid, or because I’ve lost a few times. That not one single soul wrote my story for me.” She glanced sideways at him, "I guess, if I lose, maybe it’s time to figure out what’s next. Maybe that’s a new division. Maybe it’s a whole different path. OR maybe, we give Máire that little brother or sister. I don’t know yet.

Mal reached over, gently plucking the elephant from her hands and tossing it into Máire’s half-packed backpack, "Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. And I’ll be right there.

Bella snorted, "Even if it’s me deciding to run off and start a wrestling school in Bali?

Mal grinned, "I’ll pack my shorts.

She let out a genuine laugh, leaning in until her forehead pressed against his, "God, you’re such a sap.

He kissed her lightly, "Yeah. But I’m your sap.

They sat like that for a moment, wrapped in quiet comfort as the rain continued tapping the windows.

Then Bella pulled back, her eyes shining again with something fierce and bright.

Come on,” she said, standing abruptly, "Help me figure out how to fit the boots. I’ve got a title to win and a couple of bitches to toss into the pool.

Mal stood with her, taking the boots and opening up the main suitcase, "Now that’s my girl.

----

~*~Rules of Engagement: Cleansing with Fire~*~

Outside the O’Connell house, the air hung heavy as though the sky itself was holding its breath. Ominous thunder rolled somewhere distant over the Hudson, and the darkened clouds churned like smoke over the treetops. A cool wind rippled through the grass, rattling the wind chimes that hung beside the porch steps.

Bella Madison sat alone at the top of those steps, elbows braced on her knees, fingers tangled in the ends of her hair. The storm was close. You could taste the electricity on your tongue. She raised her eyes, staring out over the lawn that stretched down toward the woods, her expression carved in steel.

Slowly, she sat upright, rolling her shoulders back. Her voice broke the silence, low, steady, every word measured like the cocking of a gun.

I hope you’re listening, ladies. Especially one BITCH in particular...” She paused, her lips twisting around the name like it was bitter in her mouth, "Because it’s funny, isn’t it? Mercy, for all your talk about how you’re the standard, the quote-icon-unquote, the woman whose name belongs on the marquee. When it came down to it, you didn’t have the guts to stand in that ring with me and Lilith at Climax Control.

She curled her hands into fists, eyes burning as the wind lifted strands of her hair around her face.

But here’s the thing, at Summer Xxxtreme, you don’t get to run. There won’t be shadows for you to hide in, or cameras to play cute for while you keep the championship tucked under your arm like a goddamn purse, or an ample opportunity for Crystal to plant her lips so firmly on your ass that she can smell your farts and know what you had for breakfast and more likely dinner. You wanna be the Internet Champion? Then you’re gonna have to work for it.

Thunder cracked overhead. Bella didn’t even flinch.

You’ve been living off your past glories for too long, Mercedes. It’s all ‘Vargas this’ and ‘Vargas that.’ You think people are just supposed to bow down because you’re still collecting a paycheck here. Well, I’m not bowing and I’m sure as hell not leaving my name to be some footnote in your Wikipedia page that I know you take your time updating because you sure as shit don’t do anything else on the internet but retweet about sports that no one gives a FUCK about. That belt you’ve got? The one you parade around like a trophy? That’s mine. You may have beaten me for it, but I built my name on that championship. I fought for it and I bled for it. And I will be absolutely fucked that I am not letting you use it like some cheap prop to remind the world you still matter.

Her eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous.

And Mercy, I need you to understand something crystal clear: I don’t give a rats fucking ASS about your records, or your accolades, or how many times you’ve held gold. I don’t even give a fuck that the record still stands that I still OWN your ass. None of that means shit to me when we’re both hanging above that pool, reaching for the same title.

She leaned forward, teeth gritted.

And when it comes time to choose between you and me? I’m choosing me every single time.

Another gust of wind rushed over the porch, carrying the distant scent of rain. Bella dragged in a breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she shifted her focus.

As for Lilith Locke,” Her tone softened a fraction, but only a fraction, "Lil, you know I like you. Hell, a part of me even respects the balls it took for you to throw your name into this match, you have EARNED this shot. You’re talented. You’re fearless. You’re exactly the kind of chaos that makes this business fun.

She pressed her lips together, eyes clouded.

But don’t get it twisted, sis. Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you come into my territory and steal what I’ve worked for. You say you’re hungry? Good. So am I. And there’s only one meal being served at Summer Xxxtreme.

The sky rumbled again. Bella’s gaze dropped briefly to her hands, then lifted back out to the yard with new resolve.

This whole thing, this match, is happening in my element. On that Princess Cruise, under the lights, over that pool? Ladies, that’s my home turf. That’s my ring. I signed my contract at Summer Xxxtreme and I’ll be damned if I let either one of you make a name off me and leave me floating face-down while you wave my title around for the cameras.

She rose from the steps slowly, step by step, until she stood at the edge of the porch. The wind whipped around her, rustling the trees until they seemed to hiss with warning.

I may have cashed in my rematch clause to get here but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t earn this. And that’s why I’m not leaving Lilith out of this fight. Because I know what it means to be hungry enough to do anything. I know what it’s like to claw your way into matches people said you didn’t belong in.

Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper, "But I’m not letting either of you take this from me.

She stepped off the porch and onto the damp grass, walking a slow circle around the house, "You want my championship? You’re gonna have to rip it from my goddamn hands. Because I am willing to burn it all down, everything I’ve built, to protect what’s mine. My name. My legacy. My title. I have come too fucking far to just say fuck it all and NOT expect anything less from me.

She stopped suddenly. Then, moving with a precision that spoke of long practice, Bella reached into her hoodie pocket and drew out a zippo lighter. She flicked it open, and a tiny tongue of flame sprang up in the dark.

She dropped to one knee and touched the flame to the line of accelerant she’d poured hours before, hidden in the grass around the entire perimeter of the house.

Instantly, a ring of fire blazed to life around the O’Connell property, casting Bella in a flickering, hellish glow. The flames rose higher, crackling, spitting embers into the storm wind. Bella stood tall at the center of the circle, hair blowing wildly around her face, eyes alight with the same fire she’d unleashed.

Mercy, Lilith and Bella. SCW Bombshell Internet Championship aboard the Princess at Summer Xxxtreme.” She pointed toward the horizon where the lightning flashed, "Come and try me.

And as thunder split the sky above her, Bella Madison stood alone, defiant and unbreakable, framed by the ring of fire she’d built, daring the storm and her rivals to come any closer.
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