[Jaya DeCarlo]

 
( YOU AIN'T 'BOUT THIS LIFE, )
❝ BITCHES STAY PRESSED ❞ - B. CARTER• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Uh, hot sex and cold wine,
She left that n*gga hanging like a clothes line,
I cut my phones off, both lines,
It's ‘bout to get nasty, pork rinds,

T he illicit lyrics flowed through the lavish Queensland hotel suite as the strong, sweet smell of kush permeated the air. I was on. Way on. And I didn’t plan on getting off any time soon. My luxurious surroundings were shrouded in darkness, washed only in the faintest moonlight that bled through the Venetian blinds of the glass terrace door, creating long strips of moonlight across the wall. I didn’t know what time it was. He always made sure to remove any and every clock before we started. I never understood why, never bothered to ask. Asking questions had never been part of our arrangement. And I liked our arrangement. At this point in my life, it was all I needed.

My boyfriend (I called him that, but what did that really mean?) lay on his stomach next to me, his left arm draped across my sheet covered tummy, snoring his ass off. I looked down at his hand, eyeing the wedding band that decorated it as I always instinctively did, before gently wriggling from his grasp.  I blindly reached to the floor, feeling around before my hand hit his Armani dress shirt. It was still so crisp and flawless, just like every other item of clothing he wore. I slipped it on and buttoned it slowly to cover my nude body.

Mason C. Wright III, Esq: skin as dark as night, late 30’s, one of the most successful and charismatic attorneys Philadelphia had ever seen, and the man who continued to give me any and everything I’d ever wanted. For the past three years, this had been my life. My family…well…I’d rather not get into that right now. All I had to say was fuck them. As a 16 year old girl with not a cent to my name, I did what I had to do. So I lived that life. A slut, a “kept woman”, a mistress…whatever you wanted to call it.

I just called it being a survivor.

Independence, self-sufficiency, what was all of that, really? We always owed somebody something. Mason took care of me, I took care of him, and in the end, both of us were content.

As I headed to the opposite side of the room for the dresser, that word independence caused me to hesitate momentarily. A year ago, I’d thought a lot about it, about doing something for myself for a change. One woman in particular had motivated me. But now, she couldn’t fucking stand me. I guess it didn’t matter though. She’d instilled in me knowledge I’d ruled as completely useless until now. This woman, my mentor, my trainer, was the absolute best the wrestling world had ever seen. Now, I was going to take her place, whether she wanted me to or not. And it would start at Climax Control this Sunday.

As the music played, I strutted over to my iPhone on the dresser. I lazily snatched it up. Text message galore, but there was only one that mattered right now.

Girl, where you at?

Shit. She was gonna be pissed at me.

•      •      •

Brooklyn Carter.

We didn’t know one another very well yet, and there was a part of me that was a bit stand-offish when it came to her. I wondered if I needed her, knew sure as shit that her ass didn’t need me. But apparently, I didn’t have the discipline to guide myself into a successful career, and that mentor of mine was no longer invested in my success. I had to admit, it was hurtful. To this day I still didn’t know what I had done for her to completely write me off, but maybe there was something in her that still gave a damn about me. After all, if there wasn’t, she would have never placed me into Brooklyn’s hands.

I was still pretty high as I approached her in the posh Mediterranean restaurant. She was efficient, reservations made, on time, dressed to kill. Brooklyn was determined to start this relationship off the right way.

Unlike my 45 minutes late ass.

I spotted her even before the hostess began to lead me to the table. Even from afar, the girl was beautiful. A clear, flawless complexion made even more glowing by the life growing inside of her, gorgeous hazel-green eyes that could make any man or woman fall in love with just one look, everything, really. I smiled a little shallowly. At least she was sexy. There was something off-putting about the idea of being managed by some ugly bitch. I wasn’t for it. Give me something nice to look at any day.

But that pretty face of hers greeted me with a scowl. Yeah, she was pissed. I wasted no time firing off a big, bold smile, my weak attempt at disarming her. I honestly hadn’t meant to be late. Mason…goddamn him. Why the hell was he even still here? My room was paid for, I had everything I needed. He didn’t need to still be here distracting me.

“Brooklyn,” I started immediately as I took my place across the table from her. I quickly noticed that my smile wasn’t doing anything. Brooke simply rolled her eyes at me. “I ran into a little bit of a ‘situation’. My man is kinda on some lock and key shit so it was hard for me to ditch him. So so so sorry about being late. It ain’t a habit, though. I promise.”

Brooklyn still looked unamused and unimpressed. I bit my lower lip and shrugged.

“I’m hoping it’s not a habit because that’s not cool at all,” she scolded me, a no-nonsense sort of tone in her voice. “I don’t really have to be here. I’m told you got a lot of potential though and I would hate to see that go to waste. That’s why I’m here. You seem like a cool chick from the conversations we’ve had. Are you?”

I hesitated for a minute before realizing that she had asked me a question. I then smiled a little and quickly nodded my head.

“Good.” Brooklyn adjusted herself in her chair and I could tell she was about to get right down to business. “You got your first match already. I just wanna tell you that these crows try to test your patience sometimes so be prepared for that.”

I laughed. “I’m from Philly. That ain’t new to me, unfortunately. But I can dish it out even better than I can take it. These whores will get sick of me quickly, trust.”

Brooklyn smiled and nodded. I watched as she lifted her glass an inch above the table and sipped through the straw. It was a cute little drink, one of those tropical numbers. I’m guessing it was some sort of fruit juice blend. That was too bad. I was curious to see what she would be like drunk, but I understood it. Fuck that pregnancy shit, though. I was never doing that. This world was too fucked up to bring some poor soul into it. Besides, I didn’t have time. And 19 certainly wasn’t the age to be considering babies at.

For a moment, Brooklyn and I fell silent, just as the server returned to the table. I barely listened to what he had to say, for my mind was heavily occupied by thoughts of Brooklyn. Like me, she looked like someone out of place in the wonderful world of wrestling. She certainly had an edge to her, but there was a glamorousness that just didn’t seem to fit this line of work. How had she found her way here? What had her career been like? And better yet, what made her qualified to make something of me?

But I didn’t ask any of these questions. Instead, I ordered a large dish (didn’t have a clue what the hell it was) and a mojito, hungry as all hell, and sat back quietly, waiting for her to address me.

“So who you got first?”  

I shrugged. “Some bitches. Raggedy Ann and Eva Ross? Something like that.”

“Girl, what?” Brooklyn chuckled at me. “You must mean Evelyn Ross. I don’t know that other one but Evelyn is cool people. Me and her get along.”

That piece of knowledge pulled a stoic expression from me. I hadn’t known that before. I considered what that could mean for this match, and decided that it meant absolutely nothing. So that was her friend? Cool. She was getting destroyed regardless.

“Ah, that’s a shame. I guess it ain’t always true that the people you surround yourself with are a reflection of you. Because from what I’ve seen and heard of her, she’s fucking terrible. And you don’t seem to be at all. Hopefully she won’t take it out on you after I get in that ass this weekend. But if she does I’ll just do it again.”  

Brooklyn gave me a “Whoa” sort of stare, but she quickly followed it up with a small laugh and took another sip of her drink. “You got a lot of heart, huh?”  

“I got more than ‘a lot’. Truthfully, I can take this business for what it is. There’s a lot of smoke and mirrors, chest puffing, dick measuring, ego blowing, and just plain old delusion when it comes down to it. And that’s okay with me, because there’s also a rawness to wrestling that kinda speaks to me. Hell, that’s been my life. Dog eat dog and all that shit. And I love my life but there does come a time when the same ol’ same ol’ won’t cut it no more. And right about now, I don’t know…I guess you can say I’m just looking for a change. Money, fame, and all that other stuff is nice as hell too, but it ain’t the be all and end all. I want something more of it this. Something truer. I’m a lot smarter than I look. Good thing is it’ll probably take people a long ass time to realize that which’ll just work in my favor. I know how to look at shit from all angles.”

Looking into Brooklyn’s eyes was…what’s the word? Intense. My words surprised even me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d said anything with that much conviction. When was the last time I’d even cared much about anything? Little girl gotta grow up sometime, I guess.


“So with this match,” there was a little pause, almost dramatic. “What angle are you looking at that from?”

And now, it was time for me to pause. We stared at one another, but the moment was much briefer than it seemed. I had no doubts in my mind about the answer. Everything I did…I did well.

“The angle where I win.”

•      •      •


Fresh faced and green as hell, SCW…the Golden Girl is in the building.

Yeah, sparkling blue eyes, gorgeous blonde hair, a body that breaks every mold God ever created…all that shit is me. I understand that none of you know who I am, but it really don’t matter. Because pretty soon you will. Eventually, you’re gonna get sick of hearing my name, but that’ll never be the case with me.

Some chicks can’t stand when their name constantly comes out of other people’s mouths, but I love it. I welcome it. And I’m gonna make sure that it happens. I want everybody talking shit about me, because if you ain’t, then I’m doing something wrong. I may be new to this business but my understanding of it is unflawed. It only takes me a second to know where I stand. And even without a match under my belt, I tower ten feet above all you bitches. Not only because I’m one of the most beautiful things this place has ever seen, but because I have both the mind and the talent that this raggedy ass division is lacking.

You can call me just another hoodrat, but it would just show how narrow minded people can actually be. I’m the last to speak on this little bout and people probably think that means something, but it doesn’t. Just means I take my mothafuckin’ time because I’m an artist like that. And I’m about to paint a beautiful picture for all of you, one so perfect, one so pristine and flawless, that they’re gonna be renaming that championship after ME.

Bold claim for a newbie? Well, everything about me is bold, including the statement that I’m about to make. Looking over this little setup here, I find it hard to believe that I’m gonna have a tough time, because as far as I’m concerned none of you bitches measure up to even half of what I am. Everything walking around this place I’ve already seen before. Especially the bullshit they got me facing this week.

Starting with Rag Doll. I swear there isn’t one aspect of you that hasn’t been seen before. From that stupid ass hair to the piercings, tacky outfits, and “tough rocker chick” attitude. Boooorrrrriiiiiing. Can we get some originality up in this bitch PLEASE?! You should’ve kept your weak ass in retirement. But then again, I got a good chance to put you right back there and I should.  You’re kinda funny though, Becky. In that pathetic, laughing at you and not with you sorta way. I guess you think because you look like something I just scraped off the bottom of my shoe that we’re supposed to be scared but I got a news flash for you. It ain’t workin’. You’re a clown. A walking stereotype. A caricature. In other words…absolutely nothing to be worried about. And I’m knocking you the fuck up for even thinking that you’re worth anybody’s time up in here. As a matter of fact, you should probably take one of those safety pins out of those ugly ass clothes and drag it across your wrists. Trust me, everybody would be much better off without your sorry ass.

And speaking of sorry, what up Evelyn?! Yeah, my girl Brooklyn set me straight on your name, but I’m about to set you straight about everything else. I got one question for you. Have you won anything? Like…a match? Because you seem like you were just planted here to make everybody else look good. Seriously, that’s how diabolical you are. Raggedy promo skills to go with raggedy “talent” and a raggedy ass face. How the fuck did you get a job? I mean really. Who hired you? Because they need to be fired immediately. You are as fake as the ass of that bitch who sings your entrance theme. Drop the wigger act, for real. Just let it go. Because you look dumb as hell. Everything about you is offensive to me, and I don’t like being offended. Even though I think Becky ain’t worth shit, I’m gonna enjoy whoopin’ her ass. Meanwhile, being in the ring with you is just gonna annoy the shit outta me because you really shouldn’t be there in the first place. You’re a boss bitch…but we don’t see you win. You’re the baddest bitch…but you chase around a dude that most likely doesn’t want you.

So far, I’m seeing nothing worth respecting, and I’m about to show you tricks just how much respect I DON’T have for you. Honestly, you might as well not even show the fuck up.

This match was over before it even began.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •( THE REALEST TO EVER DO IT)
❝ GOLDEN & GORGEOUS❞
( word count ) 2,616 ( notes ) I freakin’ hate debuts lol. Good luck, ladies. ( credits ) ( m u f f i n ) of Caution!