~*~After the Bell: The Sound Right Before Breaking~*~
Into the Void XV
Backstage
Osaka, Japan
The hallway was empty except for the sound of the arena bleeding through the walls of muted bass from entrance music, a distant crowd reaction and Production crates rattling somewhere far off down another corridor.
Life continues.
Bella Madison hated that it was continuing. The Queen for a Day crown was gone, the match was over and the adrenaline had nowhere left to go now except inward, and that was always the dangerous part.
Her boots hit the concrete too fast at first. She wasn’t running, but close enough that anyone watching would know not to stop her. Her gear was still half-torn from the match and the sweat dried cold against the back of her neck. A bruise had already started blooming near her shoulder where the ladder caught her wrong.
She turned a corner sharply, followed by another and then another, until finally there was nobody around. No cameras or interviewers, no where to catch any sympathetic looks or someone to tell her it was a “great effort.” or a “You’ll get ‘em next time.”. It was just silence.
Bella slowed her steps and her breathing wasn’t steady anymore but she wasn’t panicking or crying.
But you could just see it on her face that something was wrong, like every inhale stopped halfway down.
She reached the wall first with one hand, palm flattening against the concrete hard enough to put pressure on her hand. Her head dipped, blonde hair falling partially across her face as she tried to steady herself through sheer force of will.
It didn’t work, because all she could see was the moment again.
Bella squeezed her eyes shut, “Fuck...”
The word barely came out as her other hand curled into a fist at her side so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her jaw flexed so tight that her cheeks sucked in. Her shoulders rose with a sharp inhale she couldn’t control.
She pushed off the wall, and then immediately hit it again harder with a loud THUD. Her forearm slammed against the concrete this time and the noise echoed down the corridor.
“Goddammit!”
Her voice cracked louder than she meant it to. Bella turned suddenly, pacing two uneven steps before yanking the athletic tape loose from around her wrist with violent frustration and she let the tape hit the floor first, quickly followed by one of her leather wristbands, quickly followed by the other.
A bottle of water that was near by her with no owner, that followed next, hurled hard enough against the opposite wall that it exploded on impact, water spraying across the concrete like shrapnel.
Her chest heaved and it was still not enough. What she was feeling, it still wasn't OUT.
“NO!” The scream ripped out of her before she could stop it. It was about as raw as it could get. It was the sound of someone furious at themselves in a way nobody else could reach.
Bella staggered backward until her shoulders hit the wall again. Then slowly, very slowly, she slid downward against it until she hit the floor. She sat there with one knee bent and the other stretched out awkwardly. Her hands tangled into her own hair now.
And for a few seconds? There was nothing. Pure nothingness, no yelling, no movement. Just breathing that sounded dangerously close to breaking apart completely. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let anything fall.
“I was RIGHT there...” she whispered hoarsely.
The words made it worse, because she was.
That was the unbearable part. She was close enough to touch it again and close enough to feel it leave.
Bella dropped her head back against the wall with a dull thunk, followed by another shaky breath. Then a bitter laugh escaped her that sounded more exhausted than amused, “What the fuck is wrong with me....”
The question hung there unanswered.
Her fingers curled against the floor, her nails that would probably need another manicure scraped across the floor and then they formed into fists before they loosened again. The anger was still there, alive and crawling under her skin like a parasite, but now it was mixing with something heavier and something a lot uglier.
It was doubt...not in her talent, she knew she was swimming in that... and not in her toughness because there was not one single solitary bitch in the back that could even attempt to discredit that at their own peril.
But it was doubt...in herself.
Because what if this was it? What if she really was the woman who “got almost there” forever? What if all those moments people called “growth” were just prettier versions of losing?
Bella’s breathing hitched again and her blue eyes squeezed shut hard enough to hurt.
And then she heard footsteps, two sets approaching quickly from different sides. And Bella didn’t move and didn’t look up because if it was someone or in this case, someones coming to finish her off...fucking let them.
But then she heard them stop and there was a moment of silence before one of them spoke up, one soft voice filled with immediate concern, “Oh, Bella...”
Another followed right behind it, warmer, closer, “Honey... are you okay?”
~*~The Parts Worth Coming Home To~*~
New York
Three Weeks After Into the Void XV
The barn doors were open for the first time in days, not because Bella was training, not because she was punishing herself and not because she was trying to chase something that kept slipping through her fingers.
Just because spring had finally decided to really show up and it was warm enough outside to let the air in.
Late afternoon sunlight spilled through the opening in long golden strips, cutting across the old canvas ring and the padded floor below. Dust floated lazily through the beams of light every time someone moved too fast. Which, currently, was almost always.
Máire O’Connell tore across the ring at full toddler speed, which somehow looked both wildly uncoordinated and terrifyingly committed at the same time. Her tiny boots bounced against the canvas as she shrieked with laughter, clutching one of Bella’s old wristbands like it was a priceless artifact.
“No no NO!” Malachi called dramatically from behind her as he climbed through the ropes, in full on play-dad mode, “The tiny criminal has stolen property again!”
Máire gasped loudly like she had just been accused in federal court. Bella sat cross-legged in the corner of the ring watching the whole thing unfold, her chin resting against her hand, trying—and failing—not to smile.
“Oh wow,” she deadpanned, "That’s serious. I guess we better call somebody.”
“I am somebody,” Mal argued as he lunged forward wildly.
Máire squealed and immediately changed direction, nearly falling over her own feet before recovering with the inexplicable balance only toddlers seemed capable of possessing, “CAN’T CATCH ME!”
“Pffft, someone’s smack talk is getting stronger,” Bella observed casually.
“She gets that from you.”
“Unfortunately.”
“HEY!” Mal protested as Bella finally laughed, the sound softer than it used to be a few months ago and a lot realer, too.
That was the thing she had not expected after Osaka, after the match and after the loss....After sitting on that hallway floor wondering if she was ever going to stop feeling like she was standing one second away from becoming something bigger only to watch it vanish again...She thought coming home would feel like failure.
Instead it just felt like home, just like it should.
Máire darted toward Bella suddenly and practically launched herself into her lap. Bella caught her automatically, grunting slightly as tiny knees collided with her stomach, “OOF! Jesus, child.”
“Mama save me!” Máire announced heroically.
Mal climbed dramatically onto the apron, narrowing his eyes, "Now listen here,” he said, pointing at his daughter and wife accusingly, "Are you harboring fugitives in this establishment?”
Bella adjusted Máire against her hip and shrugged lazily, "I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That is criminal conspiracy.”
“You cannot prove anything of the sort, officer.”
Máire pointed at Mal and yelled, “BAD GUY!”
Mal clutched his chest like he’d been shot, “Oh, now that’s betrayal. I mean, I’ve been called that before but by my own flesh and blood....devistating!”
Bella snorted quietly and kissed the top of Máire’s head before setting her back down onto the mat, "Okay,” Bella said, clapping once, "Go terrorize your father properly.”
Máire needed absolutely no further instruction and she immediately tackled Mal around the leg. The attack was ineffective in every conceivable way but Mal sold it like death anyway, “AAAGH!!! THE HUMANITY!!!!”
Máire collapsed into hysterical giggles while Bella leaned back against the bottom turnbuckle, arms loosely folded over her knees as she watched them and for a little while that was enough.
Outside the sky was growing darker and drearier like forecasted and the barn creaked softly as the wind moved outside. Somewhere beyond the trees, thunder rolled low in the distance, but it sounded far away enough not to matter yet.
Mal finally collapsed flat on his back in the center of the ring while Máire stood triumphantly on his stomach.
“I have been defeated,” he announced solemnly.
“Mama win too!” Máire declared immediately.
Bella raised an eyebrow, "Oh? I wasn’t aware I was competing.”
“You are ALWAYS competing,” Mal muttered from the mat and that got him a look, not a defensive one or even a wounded one but just thoughtful. Because a few months ago? He would’ve been right.
Bella had spent so long treating every moment like something she had to earn through pain that she forgot what it felt like to simply exist inside it, to let things be good without immediately wondering when they would disappear.
Mal looked over at her then, catching the expression on her face, "You okay?” he asked more quietly.
Bella looked around the barn, at the ring and at her husband pretending to die under a thirty-pound tyrant and more specifically at her daughter’s wild blonde curls bouncing every time she laughed.
Then she looked down at her own hands, that was completely bare. Just hands her hand and maybe that mattered more than she realized.
“Yeah,” Bella answered softly after a moment.
And this time?
She actually meant it.
~*~Chosen Violence: Some People Mistake Survival for Importance~*~
New York
The Barn
Night
It had been non-stop pouring for the whole day and into the deep dark night. The rain hit the roof hard enough to sound like static. The kind that came down sideways in sheets and rattled old wood like it was trying to get inside.
The barn lights were low again tonight, though not nearly as harsh as they used to be. The ring sat under a pale wash of white while the rest of the building faded into shadow beyond it. Somewhere in the distance thunder rolled across the sky, low and ugly.
Bella Madison sat alone on the apron dressed in black joggers, with a black tank top with her long blonde hair done up in a loose braid and swept to the side. Her hands wrapped loosely tonight, not because she needed them taped, but because habit still mattered sometimes.
A steel chair rested unfolded beside her.
Bella leaned forward, forearms resting on her knees as she stared out across the empty barn for a few long seconds before finally speaking.
“Bea Barnhart.”
A slow exhale escaped her nose.
“You know... there are people in this business who survive for so long that eventually everyone mistakes that survival for importance.”
Her eyes lifted slowly toward the camera.
“You and Bill mastered that trick a long time ago.”
There was no shouting in her voice tonight, with no rage and no frantic edge that was left over from Osaka.
Bella sounded calm, that was the dangerous part now....
“You’ve both been spending years circling this company like parasites pretending you’re part of the foundation. Interfering, complaining and sneaking around consequences long enough that people stopped expecting anything else from you.”
She shrugged one shoulder lightly.
“And honestly? That’s fine. Every division needs people like you. Every story needs somebody willing to crawl through broken glass for attention instead of greatness.”
A faint smirk crossed her face.
“You just happened to confuse surviving with mattering.”
The rain hammered even harder overhead. Bella reached down absentmindedly and nudged the steel chair slightly with her foot, the metal scraping softly against the concrete.
“This match?” she continued, "A match so graciously bestowed upon his Majesty, Ryan Keys is Falls Count Anywhere against Bea Barnhart? That sounds less like a wrestling match and more like punishment for whatever sins I apparently committed lately.”
“But then I remembered something.”
She sat upright slowly now.
“I stopped asking for permission to enjoy this part. You see Bea... people keep acting like I’m angry all the time now. Like I’m one bad night away from completely losing my mind.”
Bella tilted her head slightly.
“And maybe a few months ago they would’ve been right.”
She spun herself carefully and pulled herself up, standing up on the apron now, stepping into the ring in one smooth motion.
“But the difference between then and now is that I finally understand myself enough to know the difference between chaos and choice.”
Her boots echoed softly against the canvas as she paced.
“Hurting people used to feel reactive and emotional....Like something I needed in order to prove I belonged in fights like this.”
She shook her head once.
“Not anymore.”
Bella stopped center ring.
“Now? Now it’s deliberate.”
Thunder cracked louder outside this time and Bella barely even noticed.
“You’re walking into a Falls Count Anywhere match with someone who spent months trying to figure out whether violence was consuming her...only for me to realize I’m actually very comfortable here and that is very bad news for you.”
Bella bent slightly, picking up the steel chair and unfolding it slowly in the center of the ring before sitting down in it backward, arms folding across the top.
“You and Bill have always treated matches like opportunities to escape the very consequences that you have both constantly have set upon yourselves, your shortcuts and the distractions, the constant cheap shots and interference...Anything to avoid standing in the middle of a fight honestly.”
A small shrug.
“I don’t have that problem.”
Her eyes locked forward now.
“In fact, Bea, I think King Ryan accidentally gave me exactly what I needed.”
The faintest grin appeared.
“The unlimited space and the room to finally do the one thing that everyone has begged for.... To put your ass down once and for all.”
Rainwater dripped steadily somewhere near the entrance of the barn.
“Bea Barnhart…you know what your problem is? It’s not that you’re evil. It’s not that you cheat. Hell, this business has always had people like you. This place was built on liars, manipulators, opportunists and professional parasites. No, your problem is much simpler than that.”
Bella paced slowly across the ring, eyes locked dead into the camera now.
“You’ve gotten comfortable surviving without EVER evolving.”
A faint scoff left her lips.
“You and Bill have spent YEARS floating through SCW like cockroaches after a nuclear blast. Every era changes, every division grows, new names rise while the old names fade. Meanwhile somehow the Barnharts are always just…there. Attached to whatever irritation you can create long enough to stay relevant another month. And the thing that finally started pissing me off? You’re proud of it.”
Bella leaned forward against the ropes.
“You think being annoying is the same thing as being dangerous. You think being difficult to deal with is the same thing as mattering. BITCH, it’s not, IT NEVER HAS BEEN. It just means people get tired of wasting energy on you. But me? I’m done doing that.”
She pointed toward the camera.
“You are not walking into this Falls Count Anywhere match with the Bella Madison that kept trying to prove she belonged in rooms with champions. That woman already bled herself empty in Osaka trying to become something more. What came back from Japan is a woman that finally realized something very important…That not everybody deserves my patience. And Bea? You ESPECIALLY don’t.”
She started pacing again, slower this time, like the anger was becoming more controlled instead of louder.
“You run your mouth constantly about respect while hiding behind cheap shots and distractions. You cling to Bill like the two of you are somehow this unstoppable force, but honestly? Watching the Barnharts for years has been like watching two people drown while insisting they’re swimming.”
A humorless laugh escaped her.
“You know what I did after Into the Void? I went home and I sat with failure. I did what I usually do and I tore myself apart trying to understand why I keep getting close to the top without taking the final step. I had my conversations with my family, with my friends and with some surprising allies.”
Her eyes narrowed sharply.
“You know what YOU would’ve done after a loss like that? You would’ve blamed the referee, blamed management, blamed the fans and blamed literally anybody except yourself because accountability would probably kill you faster than any weapon I could swing.”
Bella stopped moving completely.
“That’s why this match is dangerous for you.”
Her voice lowered.
“Because Falls Count Anywhere means there are no ropes to save you. There is ZERO structure, no escaping into comedy. No slowing things down so Bill can catch his fat ass up so he can get involved. No pretending this is all just another circus act where Bea Barnhart gets to survive by being slippery twat. You are trapped in a building with a woman who is finally done hesitating and I think you’re too stupid to realize how bad that is for you.”
Bella rubbed her thumb against her taped knuckles.
“You want to know the truth? A couple months ago I probably would’ve walked into this match trying to outwrestle you, trying to prove I was above all the chaos. And insisting that I would try to keep some imaginary moral high ground intact.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“But then I realized something after Kayla beat me. The women who actually become unforgettable in this business? They know exactly when to stop being nice about it. And Bea…I am done being nice about you.”
Silence hung for a moment before Bella continued.
“So when this turns ugly in Bloomington, and it WILL turn ugly, you don’t get to act surprised. You don’t get to cry about violence. You don’t get to pretend you’re some piss poor victim being bullied by the big scary Queen of Hardcore. You wanted a fight with me in a Falls Count Anywhere match? Good. Then you’re finally going to learn the difference between surviving attention…”
Her voice dropped into something colder.
“…and surviving ME. In Bloomington there are no ropes to save you, no count to reset things, no corner to hide in while Bill starts barking at ringside like somebody forgot to leash him.”
Bella leaned forward slightly in the chair.
“And there is absolutely nowhere inside that building where I stop coming and you can hide from the consequences of your actions. You wanted the Queen of Hardcore? You are a fucking liar if you said ‘Yes’, because we all know it will be by the end of this, an immediate no.”
Her expression hardened further.
“You wanted the version of me people used to laugh at, the woman who got emotional, the girl who burned herself out trying to prove she belonged.”
Bella shook her head slowly.
“That woman’s gone and she is never coming back.”
She stood again, leaving the chair sitting alone in the ring behind her.
“What’s left now is someone who finally understands exactly what she’s capable of when she stops hesitating.”
Her voice lowered.
“And Bea? I don’t think you will survive this one because you’re tougher than me. I think you survive it because eventually I decide I’m done and I fucking let you.”
Only Bella standing there beneath the lights with complete calm written across her face.
“And that should scare the hell out of you.”
The barn lights shut off one row at a time and the darkness swallowed the ring slowly. Bella’s final words came from somewhere inside it.
“You mistake your survival for the lack of what you have had coming to you for a long time for legacy. I’ll teach you the difference.”
