~*~I won?~*~
Nearly Two Weeks Ago
Manhattan, NY
The living room was a picture of warmth, the kind of moment Bella Madison treasured in a life often dominated by chaos and travel. Máire, now a whirlwind of toddler energy, toddled back and forth across the plush area rug with her stuffed wolf in hand, giggling at the attention her parents gave her every move. Bella sat cross-legged on the couch, a soft blanket draped over her lap, absently sipping a steaming cup of tea. Beside her, Malachi scrolled through his phone, his free hand ready to grab Máire should she attempt one of her daring climbs onto the coffee table.
On the television, the muted buzz of Climax Control played in the background. Bella hadn’t been paying attention—it was a rare night off, a chance to bask in the simplicity of being home with her family.
Máire squealed with delight as Mal playfully swept her up and onto his lap, her laughter filling the room. Bella chuckled softly, her tea warming her hands, the scene before her warming her heart.
Then, Christian Underwood’s familiar voice caught her ear.
“There's been a very CLEAR favorite to win this week, and the public has spoken!”
Bella’s ears perked up. She turned her head toward the screen, where Christian stood under the bright lights, his ever-charismatic presence commanding attention.
“You didn’t mention you were part of this thing,” Mal said casually, his eyes flicking from the TV to Bella.
“I didn’t think it mattered,” Bella replied with a shrug. “Didn’t even check where I stood. Figured it was a long shot.”
Mal’s brow raised, but he didn’t press further. Bella’s attention was now glued to the screen as Christian’s voice filled the living room.
The screen changes temporarily to a screen cap of the final results...The crowd watching on the SCW Tron CHEERS!
Bella leaned forward, her mug forgotten on the coffee table. Christian paused, letting the suspense build, before flashing his trademark grin.
“And it is official! Bella Madison will challenge Julianna DiMaria for the Bombshell Internet Championship at High Stakes XIV! Bella, best of luck and congratulations.”
For a moment, Bella didn’t move. Her name echoed in the room, louder even than the roaring crowd on the screen. She blinked, staring at Christian as if expecting him to correct himself.
“You’re kidding me…” she murmured under her breath.
Malachi’s grin spread slowly across his face as realization set in. “Babe, they picked you.” His voice was steady, laced with pride. Shifting Máire to one arm, he nudged Bella’s shoulder. “Told you they’d recognize what you bring to the table.”
Bella’s lips parted, her brain struggling to process what had just happened. “They voted for me?” Her voice cracked slightly, disbelief evident.
Máire, as if sensing the excitement, clapped her tiny hands and babbled happily, her joy adding to the moment’s surreal energy.
“Yeah, you,” Mal said, his tone insistent. “Because you’ve earned it. All the work you’ve put in, all the fight you’ve shown—it’s finally paying off.”
Bella leaned back against the couch, her mind spinning. Of all the names on that poll, the SCW Universe—the fans who had watched her every stumble, every triumph—had chosen her. They believe in me.
“That’s a hell of a lot of faith to put in me,” she whispered, the words more to herself than to Malachi. “What if I—”
“Nope,” Mal interrupted, his voice firm. He turned toward her, his blue eyes locking onto hers with steadfast conviction. “Don’t you even start with that ‘what if’ shit. You’ve got this, Bella. You’re more than ready for this match, for this stage.”
Bella exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the blanket on her lap.
“This is it,” she murmured, her voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. “The biggest stage. The Internet Championship. I can’t screw this up.”
“You won’t,” Mal replied simply, his confidence in her like an anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “Because you’re you. And you’ve got all of us behind you.”
Máire chose that moment to lean forward in Mal’s lap, reaching for Bella. “Mama!” she chirped before planting a slobbery kiss on her mother’s cheek.
Bella’s breath hitched as she broke into a laugh, wiping at her face.
“See?” Mal said with a grin. “Your number one fan already knows you’re gonna crush it.”
Bella pulled Máire into her lap, holding her close. The weight of the moment hadn’t dissipated, but it had shifted into something else—determination.
“Well, I guess I can’t let her down, can I?” she said, her voice steadier now.
Malachi leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Not a chance. You’re going to make them all proud, Bells.”
Bella glanced back at the TV, her name still on the screen, her mind already shifting to the challenge ahead.
This was her moment. And she wouldn’t let it slip away.
~*~Late Night Reflections – A Letter to Máire~*~
The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old floorboards and the soft hum of the wind outside. Bella sat at the kitchen table, her tea from earlier long forgotten as she stared at a blank page in her leather-bound journal. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room.
Her fingers hesitated over the pen, her mind a swirl of thoughts too chaotic to articulate. She exhaled slowly, pressing the pen to the paper, and began to write.
Dear Máire,
I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. Maybe someday, when you’re old enough to understand why Mama and Daddy were always traveling with you so often, why the loud crowds and bright lights were part of our lives, you’ll find this letter. Or maybe I’ll show it to you myself when the time feels right.
Tonight, after you went to bed, I found myself thinking about you. About us. About what I want you to see when you look at me.
Right now, you’re too little to understand what’s happening. You don’t know that your mama is about to step onto the biggest stage of her career, or that people from all over the world have chosen me—me—to represent them, to fight for a championship that so many have held before me. You don’t see the doubts I wrestle with, the voice in my head that sometimes tells me I’m not good enough, not ready.
But you do see me. You see me every day, trying my best to balance being your mama and chasing my dreams. And I see you, my little whirlwind of joy and curiosity, and I think: What kind of example am I setting for her?
Máire, I want you to know something. I’m not perfect. I’ve stumbled more times than I care to admit, both in and out of the ring. There were days when I wanted to give up, when the weight of expectations—others’ and my own—felt like too much. But then you came along.
You, with your big, sparkling eyes and that laugh that could melt the coldest heart. You reminded me what it means to fight for something bigger than myself. You made me want to be the kind of person you could be proud of, the kind of person you’d look up to, even on my worst days.
So, when I step into that ring at High Stakes XIV, it won’t just be for me. It’ll be for you. For every time you’ll ever wonder if you’re strong enough, smart enough, or brave enough to chase your dreams. For every time someone might try to tell you that you can’t.
I want you to remember this, Máire: Strength isn’t about never falling—it’s about getting back up. It’s about finding your voice when the world tries to silence you. And most importantly, it’s about knowing that you are enough, just as you are.
When I fight Julianna DiMaria, I’m fighting for the Internet Championship, yes. But I’m also fighting for you. For us. For the future I want to build for our family.
No matter what happens, whether I win or lose, I want you to see that your mama never stopped fighting. Not for a second.
I love you more than words can say. And I promise, no matter where this journey takes me, I’ll always come back to you and Daddy. You’re my everything, Máire.
Love always,
Your Mama
Bella set the pen down, her hand trembling slightly. She closed the journal and rested her head against it, letting out a shaky breath. Sunday would bring the roar of the crowd and the weight of the moment. But tonight, she had clarity—a reminder of why she fought and for whom she would never stop.
~*~Unexpected Interaction~*~
A Few Days Later
The cool Manhattan evening carried a familiar chill as Bella Madison and her mother, Laura Phoenix, strolled through the quiet streets near Bella’s home. With Máire fast asleep at home under Malachi’s watchful eye, Bella had taken the rare opportunity to spend some time with her mom, something they hadn’t done nearly enough of lately.
They each carried a steaming cup of coffee from a local café, the aroma mingling with the crisp air. Their conversation was easy and warm, punctuated by laughter as Laura recounted one of Bella’s childhood antics.
“And you really thought painting the dog blue would make her a Smurf,” Laura teased, her smile wide.
“I was creative and 12 at the time!” Bella retorted, shaking her head with a grin. “You should’ve been proud of my imagination.”
“Let’s just say proud wasn’t the first word that came to mind,” Laura replied, chuckling.
Their laughter was interrupted by a voice nearby.
“Excuse me?”
They turned to see a young woman standing by a newsstand, her arms full of magazines and a tote bag slung over her shoulder. Her wide-eyed expression suggested she recognized them.
“You’re Bella Madison, right?” the woman asked tentatively. Her gaze shifted to Laura, and her eyes widened further. “And… oh my gosh, you’re Laura Phoenix!”
Caught off guard, Bella blinked before offering a small smile. “Yeah, that’s us.”
The woman let out a soft laugh, clearly excited but trying to keep her composure. “Wow, I can’t believe this. I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re both incredible. My sister and I are huge fans.”
Laura gave the young woman a warm smile. “That’s so sweet of you to say. Thank you.”
The woman juggled her magazines to free a hand, pulling out a small notebook and pen from her bag. “Could I get your autographs? My little sister would lose her mind if I didn’t ask. We’ve been following both of you for years.”
“Of course,” Laura said, her voice kind. Bella nodded, taking the notebook first.
“What’s your sister’s name?” Bella asked as she signed.
“Emma,” the woman replied, her smile growing wider.
Bella added a quick note: “To Emma—thank you for believing in me! Love, Bella Madison." She handed the notebook to Laura, who added her own message of encouragement.
“You’ve been watching since…?” Bella asked, curious.
“Since PWS Apex,” the woman said, her voice brimming with excitement. “And when you came to SCW, we were so happy. Your match against Diamond was incredible, and now, you’re facing Julianna at High Stakes? It’s amazing to see you getting the recognition you deserve. We both voted for you in that poll because we both think you deserve this shot. We know how much you have been wanting to be a singles champion and you are completely worthy. ”
Laura’s eyes flicked to Bella, her expression full of pride.
“Well,” Bella said, feeling a little overwhelmed by the praise, “thank you for sticking with me. Fans like you and Emma make it all worth it.”
The woman hesitated before pulling something out of her tote bag—a small, hand-knitted bracelet in vibrant blues and greens. “Emma made this. She said it’s for good luck. I was going to mail it, but since you’re here…”
Bella took the bracelet, running her fingers over the soft yarn. “Tell Emma I’ll wear it,” she said, slipping it onto her wrist. “And I’ll be thinking of you both at High Stakes.”
The woman’s smile grew impossibly brighter. “Thank you! Good luck, Bella. And you too, Laura. You’ve both inspired us so much.”
As the woman disappeared into the night, Bella looked down at the bracelet on her wrist, her thoughts swirling.
“She’s right, you know,” Laura said softly, her voice breaking the moment of silence.
Bella glanced at her mom. “About what?”
“You're getting the recognition you deserve,” Laura replied, her tone filled with conviction. “You’ve worked so hard to get here, and people see that. Fans like her and Emma? They believe in you because you’ve shown them what’s possible.”
Bella swallowed the lump forming in her throat, her fingers brushing against the bracelet. “It’s still kind of surreal,” she admitted.
“It’s supposed to be,” Laura said, wrapping an arm around Bella’s shoulders. “The good stuff always is. Now, you just have to go out there and prove them all right.”
Bella smiled, leaning into her mom’s embrace. For fans like Emma, for her family, for herself—she’d give everything she had at High Stakes XIV.
Bella turned the bracelet over in her hand, feeling its soft texture and the warmth of the gesture behind it. It wasn’t just a piece of knitted yarn—it was a tangible reminder of the belief that others had in her. The quiet street felt alive with the woman’s words still echoing in her ears: You are worthy.
Her mother nudged her lightly with her elbow, pulling her from her thoughts. “You’ve made an impact, Bella. That’s not something everyone can say.”
Bella smiled softly, her eyes still fixed on the bracelet. “It’s easy to forget that sometimes. The doubt creeps in, especially now.” She paused, then looked at Laura. “Did you ever stop feeling like you have to prove yourself?”
Laura chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not really. But it’s not always about proving it to the world—it’s about proving it to yourself. The people that we do this in front of...they see your heart, Bella. They see your fight. And if that young woman and her sister believe in you, why shouldn’t you?”
Bella nodded, absorbing her mother’s wisdom as they continued their walk. Each step felt a little lighter, the weight of self-doubt easing just a bit.
As they rounded the corner back toward home, Bella felt something new mingling with her nerves—hope. She glanced at the bracelet on her wrist again and smiled.
“Guess I’ve got a little extra luck going into High Stakes XIV,” she said with a quiet laugh.
Laura looped her arm through Bella’s, pulling her close. “You’ve always had it in you, sweetheart. The world’s just starting to catch on.”
For the first time in a long while, Bella felt that might be true. And with the biggest match of her career looming, she was ready to show the world exactly who she was.
~*~Rules of Engagement: Everyone Has A Breaking Point~*~
The camera opens inside a dimly lit wrestling gym. The sound of Bella’s fists slamming against a heavy bag echoes throughout the space. Her hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, strands sticking to her sweat-drenched face. She’s not just training—she’s unleashing. Every strike carries the weight of her frustration, anger, and determination. Mal stands nearby, holding the bag steady, while their daughter toddles in the corner, playing with some toys. Bella steps back, panting, and wipes her face with her forearm before turning to the camera.
Her fiery piercing sky blue eyes burn into the lens, the rage in her voice palpable.
"You know what, Julianna? I’m done. Done playing games. Done biting my tongue. Done watching you waltz around acting like you’re fucking untouchable. You’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re the queen of this division, but let me tell you something—every queen falls eventually, and you’re no exception.
You’ve spent so much time running your mouth, belittling everyone who dares to challenge you, acting like you’re above it all. But here’s the truth: you’re not untouchable. You’re not invincible. You’re just another overhyped, overconfident, paper champion who thinks their time at the top is guaranteed. Newsflash, bitch—it’s not.
Do you know what makes me sick, Julianna? Watching you stand there with that title like it’s your birthright, as if you’ve actually earned the respect you claim to have. Respect isn’t given—it’s earned. And you? You’ve done nothing but coast on arrogance and a few lucky breaks. You’re holding onto that championship by a thread, and you know it. Deep down, you’re terrified. Terrified that someone like me is going to come along and expose you for the fraud you really are.
And you know what? You’re right to be scared. You’re right to be pissed off that Christian and Mark took it upon themselves to find you a challenger via the very damn thing you are supposed to represent in SCW. Because I’m not just coming for your title—I’m coming for your pride, your ego, and everything you think makes you better than everyone else. At High Stakes XIV, I’m going to rip that title out of your hands and show the world that Julianna DiMaria is nothing more than a pretender.
You’ve had your time at the top, but now? Now it’s my time. And I’m not here to ask for permission or play nice. I’m here to take what’s mine.
You don’t think I’m good enough? That I don’t belong in the same ring as you? Fine. Underestimate me. Write me off like you have everyone else. But remember this—you’re going to regret it. You’re going to regret every single thing you’ve said, every condescending look, every dismissive comment, because when that bell rings, there’s not going to be anyone to save you. No tricks, no excuses—just you and me. And when it’s all said and done, you’re going to look up from that mat, broken and beaten, and you’re going to realize that you were never the champion you pretended to be.
I’ve fought too hard, sacrificed too much, and endured too many setbacks to let someone like you stand in my way. I’m not just fighting for me—I’m fighting for every single person who’s been overlooked, underestimated, and disrespected by people like you.
When I came back after having my daughter, I promised myself and everyone that listened that I would hold SCW singles gold by the end of this year. I have done things that I didn’t think would have been remotely possible lately and sometimes as much as I don’t believe in myself, it’s like when that bell rings, I am more than just Bella Madison.
I can’t explain it and I both fear and love it at the same time. No one expected me to take Victoria Lyons to the limit. After that loss, I felt like, while I didn’t win...I didn’t lose either. I suddenly have everyone’s attention and getting those votes only solidifies that point. I am their choice. They want to see me succeed as well.
This isn’t just a match, Julianna. This is a reckoning. And you’re not going to walk away unscathed.
High Stakes XIV isn’t going to be your crowning moment—it’s going to be your downfall. So shine that title up real nice, because after I’m done with you, that SCW Bombshell Internet Championship, it’s coming home with me. You can try to prepare for me, but there’s no preparing for the storm I’m bringing. You’re not ready for this, Julianna. You’ve never been ready for someone like me.
I’m done talking. At High Stakes XIV, I’m going to do what I do best—I’m going to fight. And I’m going to win. So enjoy your last days as champion, Julianna. Because they’re numbered."
Bella glares into the camera for a beat longer before turning back to the bag, her fists crashing into it with renewed intensity. The scene fades to black, but the sound of her punches lingers, driving home the determination in every strike.