(Apologies in advance, this had to be a bit of a rush job cause things IRL have just been all over the place recently, will try to be around in the next week but please don't be too surprised if I'm a little bit absent for at least the next few days.
Thanks for understanding and all that- I promise you'll get better from me as things calm down a bit
<3 Jazz)
“Something about her is so tempting to look at. Her anger has a childish aura as if she isn’t made of real evil; just a bratty princess playing with her toy fangs.”
― Cameron Jace, Snow White Sorrow
Local Fairgrounds
Monterey, IN
23.02.2006
7:04pm
“Why’d you leave?”
Amber’s guitar string twanged noisily, silently she cursed the stupid thing for never staying in tune, trying to ignore the vaguely persistent tone in Cassidy’s voice. Busking was an easy way of making a little extra money around the carnival, admittedly less profitable than freeing someone's wallet from their back pocket and relieving them of their extra cash- it was safer for the state of ones fingers negotiating blisters versus losing them entirely.
Of course, busking also worked far better when there wasn’t a 14 year old hanging around and blocking her open guitar case.
“Cass, you know I love you and all but this really isn’t the time…”
A forced pout came over the younger girls features, her boundless blonde curls struggling to free themselves from the hair tie holding them in a low, messy ponytail that fell in spiraling tendrils between her shoulder blades.
“It's never the time.”
She was right although Amber would never admit it aloud, curiosity was indeed known to kill cats however the redhead silently wondered if that could also be applied to bratty, entitled teenagers. With fingers lightly curled around the fretboard of the beaten up acoustic, the 17 year old Amber Ryan plucked away at a couple of strings in hopes that the one out of tune didn’t sound as obvious as she first thought.
“You’re right, it isn’t. Now, unless you plan on throwing me a few coins I’m gonna need you to move out of the way.”
Amber did her best to ignore the disappointment in Cassidy’s eyes as she relented, shuffling in typical sulky teenage fashion to sit just behind the redhead to the left on an upturned milk crate. One day perhaps she’d understand, Amber mused, that not every question required an answer…
How the hell could she explain that to a 14 year old anyway, especially when her father, ‘Grizzly’ Parker was just the same way- relentless and frustratingly determined to a goddamn fault.
Hell, Amber could barely restrain the chuckle as she recalled the first time she kissed a local boy behind the Gravitron hoping silently that she wouldn’t accidentally step too close in her temporary euphoria- someone had told Grizz and he had hounded her for four days straight it seemed for details that she could barely recall outside how the guy smelled like Axe Body spray and tasted like cheap cotton candy.
Eventually she made up some nothingness if only to get him off her back…
“Dad told me it was cause you were in trouble with the law.”
Amber scoffed as her fingers fell still- someone aimlessly threw a couple of coins in the general vicinity of the guitar case with only half actually landing inside as Amber gave them a cursory wave they likely didn’t see before turning her attention to Cassidy sitting almost smugly on her shitty little milk crate.
“Well, why are you asking me then?”
Amber called her bluff bluntly, Cassidy was fishing and doing it poorly as though she might somehow trigger the older girl into slipping up with a wrong word- however she seemed to forget that Amber had made a decent enough living in the carnivals by messing with people's minds while removing them from their monetary possessions.
Leaning over the guitar, Amber brushed some errant dust off the front of her jeans as a few more coins landed in the dirt nearby… she’d grab them later if she remembered, not before liberating some crisp notes from those stingy motherfuckers first though.
“I mean if he already told you that then you obviously have no use hearing it from me.”
“So it's true then?”
“If that's what you wanna believe Cass, then sure… Robbed a bank at gunpoint, stole a car and drove it off a cliff Thelma and Louise style before parachuting into the middle of goddamn nowhere and meeting your Dad. Is that exciting enough for you?”
Cassidy screwed her nose up in annoyance, those warm brown eyes giving away the level of frustration about being figuratively shrugged off. Amber returned to her guitar, contemplating maybe one day if she could get into wrestling properly she might be able to buy a new one… One that didn’t have a string permanently out of tune or a crack along the back cause she got a little heated and launched the case into the side of a trailer that one time…
A wry smile crept across young Amber’s features, ones not yet haunted and scarred in places form wars to come. Eyes not yet hollowed and a tongue not yet drenched in venom, fuelled by spite.
Kryptonite by Three Doors down came easily to her muscle memory while the familiar riff was easily digestible to the masses- people liked things they could recognize, familiar and safe even if the alternative was far more interesting.
“Why do you have to be such a bitch about everything?”
It was easy to forget that Cassidy was still at an age where calling someone a bitch actually felt like it meant something and wasn’t just a colloquial terms used alongside other profanities as adjectives rather than insults. If the 14 year old knew how to scowl effectively, Amber was sure she would have but instead had the closest approximation etched into her skin.
Amber said nothing at first, she’d found her groove as such and contentedly played away- while she knew all the lyrics off the top of her head and likely backwards, she didn’t have it in her to sing anywhere outside of a car or shower.
Maybe Cassidy was right again though, Amber contemplated thoughtfully as the chorus fell into the away into comfortable repetition again, right but not in the way she had intended she supposed. A family lingered nearby as she played, capturing her attention almost subconsciously- the mother pointing out the girl playing guitar to a son and daughter nervously crowding around their parents feet trying to avoid eye contact, while the father tapped his foot knowingly as though urging the children to do the same.
Something inside her chest tightened and if she’d been singing perhaps she would have momentarily forgotten the lyrics- they seemed so content, unknowing of how easily everything could change. So very suburban and Amber craved that more than she dared admit- she wanted that mediocrity, that boredom that came with comfort and a sense of knowing and belonging that didn’t come from being considered among outliers and outsiders.
Family. This was the closest she’d had in a long time and standing less than 10 feet away was perhaps what could have been… what should have been… what might have been if only things were different.
“Do you miss them?”
Cassidy’s demeanour had changed even though Amber still had her back to her, a softness in her tone replacing that bratty whine she’d adopted to little effect. Perhaps she’d seen the way Amber twitched upon making eye contact, or heard the sudden uptick in ferocity that her fingers danced across strings- she more than likely didn’t understand it but that didn’t make it any less noticeable.
It was a question Amber hadn’t expected as the daughter approached nervously, the trepidation written as though in neon across her small forehead- she couldn’t have been more than seven years old in a disney princess dress and brown hair that fell well past her shoulders accentuating her tiny frame.
Pausing before the guitar case, she shot a look of uncertainty back across her shoulder although Amber doubted if she knew what she were doing beyond reflexively seeking validation, her fist clenched tight around a couple of coins.
In that moment Amber wished she had something poignant to say, that her ten or so extra years of life could give this little girl something to cherish and remember… However before Amber could even find the words, the coins trickled into the bottom of the guitar case with tinkling thuds and she was gone running back to her parents.
“Sometimes. Some days more than others…”
A pause fell between them as the strings fell silent, Amber's hand gently falling away from the fret board as her fingers ached.
“So why run? Why leave if you didn’t want to go...”
Some moments the world has a way of falling silent even when it seems so noisy and crowded, moments where a room stops and takes a collective breath that lasts for seconds longer than it has any right to.
Amber waited as the family disappeared into the growing crowd, perhaps silently hoping they might look back one last time, that the endorphin rush wasn’t just a figment of her imagination and that she’d made some kind of connection where one previously hadn’t existed.
Except they didn’t turn around, perhaps starstruck by harsh flashing lights and pumping rock music that disguised the mechanical creaking of rides that desperately needed an overhaul… or perhaps that connection hadn’t struck them in the same way it had done with the redhead.
Pensively Aber sighed, turning her attention back to Cassidy- a twitch in her curious smile betraying something a little deeper although Amber couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.
“Things just… I never really wanted to but we don't get that choice sometimes and just... you know what Cass, sometimes we don’t run for the sake of running though that may seem like what it is. We aren’t fleeing to or from anyone… Sometimes we run and we hide cause we just don’t want to be found.”
******
“Let me be blunt…
You know, as if I’m not already so much so they may as well have made my middle and last names ‘force trauma’ for the sake of it.
You don’t really know who I am Tallyn, more likely than not you don’t care either and if I’m honest I actually don’t blame you. It’s a big roster and not everyone can be champion, not everyone can be the star of the show- in order for there to be people on the top, there has to be those scratching and clawing beneath to make their position feel far more important.
Being on top only means something if there are people to beat below you, climbing the ladder only means something if you can be ahead of someone else and winning doesn’t mean shit if someone else doesn’t lose.
Right now- you’re one step off the floor and talking shit like you’ve got a title shot headed your way. I mean obvious kudos for the level of balls and all that, I mean it's a brave thing to act like you’re actually someone when you’ve done literally nothing of note.
I suppose this is the point where you get all shitty and ask just who I am to judge you- who am I to declare your worth among a stacked roster of women who all should be champions at any given time… Except Jessie Salco of course cause ice-cream really doesn’t do well under pressure it seems.
Hell, even Roxi deserves a nice belt sometimes cause something has to make me beating her again just that little sweeter...
See, this is the point darling, where you tell me who you think you are and why you’re better than me. Rattle off your reasons cause I’ve got nothing but time- run your mouth while you have the opportunity cause if I’m honest I’ve had a really rough couple of weeks and I could go for just belting the ever-loving fuck out of some smarmy know-it-all rookie who thinks her worth on a roster like this is based off the people who trained her.
Tell me all about where you’ve come from and what you’ve done to get here- all the fucking ‘hardships’ that you’ve endured to make it to a stage as grand as this and I ill take every one of those stupid words falling out of your face and I’ll ball them up in my fist so that when I knock your jaw around the other side of your head I can tell you how I was able to make you eat your words.
Oh, that's right… You’re trained really hard, you’ve overcome obstacles and now you just wanna be better right?
Cue up the alligator tears and give me a sob story that’ll make me keel over in laughter.
I’ve been at this far too long Tallyn, I’ve seen girls like you say the same daft things more times than I dare recall for fear I might give myself a goddamn aneurysm. You get this swell of confidence after a win and think you’re well on your merry way- then you hit a few roadblocks, you lose a few matches and disappear back off the face of the earth cropping up in the next company where you promise it’ll be different this time… That you won’t disappoint everyone anymore.
I’m well acquainted with disappointment, I’ve been letting people down my whole fucking career if only cause I have the absolute audacity to keep breathing.
I show up to shows and can practically hear eyes rolling and muttered sighs of annoyance that I haven’t simply chain smoked my lungs out of my chest yet or drunkenly fallen off my apartment balcony in a self-imposed rage about something insignificant.
That’d be too easy and I doubt many would want to garner a win over me like that- especially Roxi cause Queen Passive Aggressive in the corner there can’t fucking decide if she wants to scold me or knock my head off my shoulders.
We both know the answer and we also know that you just don’t have it in you right now, Hero.
That doesn’t make you better than me, just deluded into thinking that getting a little pissed off somehow gives you an edge.
Perhaps I should finally properly introduce myself to you then Tallyn, you know since I’ve already threatened certain death and dismemberment towards you on multiple occasions already.
I’m everything wrong and right with professional wrestling, deathmatch legend if only in my own mind and frankly what constitutes the nightmares of rookies like you…Technically proficient enough to pull your limbs off then sick enough to beat you to a bloody pulp with them. Hell, I’d just roll out my resume but there's so much blood on it you might mistake it for a red carpet to walk all over…
I’m a woman who doesn’t need to be in a stupid fucking battle royal to make her intentions very clear towards the gold- see, theres a reason people like you and I don’t get put in these things… Cause they are fucking terrified that we might win.
Only difference is they’re worried a champion will slaughter you, while they worry about not having a champion to bury if I get my hands on them…
Maybe I seem a little edgy but truth is, I am. I’m beyond on edge, I’m a little red writhing 5 foot 8 pile of bad intentions and franky even worse attitude, I am a beaten and broken former champion on the warpath towards something that maybe I don’t even deserve but I need all the same.
What you are Tallyn, is bait… They wanna feed the animal, sacrifice one for the sake of many while making my win loss record look a little more spiffy for the effort. They wanna see what I’m capable of when motivated, when pissed the fuck off and when I’ve got nothing left tethering me to the thin threads of sanity that hadn’t quite frayed through yet.
This isn’t an exhibition or an opportunity sweetheart, this is a message to Roxi Johnson, a message to whoever the Bombshells champion is following Climax Control and it's a message to management.
If you thought this was just fun and games before, that I had shown you the full hand I’m playing with… Don’t blink, don’t breathe, don’t move. Just sit, watch and hope that life insurance still pays out when the remains have to be scraped into a fucking mason jar.
So Tallyn. Roxi. Hell, any other bombshells who think now is the perfect time to start squaring up let it be known loud and clear...
… Lets just say I’m done playing.”
******
Jack Michaels House
Las Vegas, ND
23.08.2020
5:08am
Sunrise in Vegas used to feel like it meant more.
That first light peeking over a dusty horizon with a dull orange glow, Amber always far preferred this to the garish neon and forced facade of importance that the place usually carried- no, it was moment of peace among the distant chaos that resonated the deepest.
No doubt her adopted father would be milling around soon enough, he too, a career insomniac with a body clock so far out of whack it was a wonder they saw daylight at all… Amber however has forgone coffee and small talk, instead finding a solace in the gnarled branches of a large tree in the sprawling land stretching into the near distance.
As a child she had used to climb trees, get lost among the thick twisting arms and nestling into spaces designed for creatures far smaller and more agile- no one could reach her here, no one could find her if she didn’t want them to. Part of her, somewhere deep inside where she refused to admit stille existed- she was a child, a child denied a childhood, a child who chose to grow up quicker than she needed to cause the alternative left her feeling more hollow and alone.
Snaking between thick boughs, Amber maneuvered her body as best she could with bruises blooming in angry purples and blacks, her right sneaker untied and hanging loosely cause her ankle was so swollen she couldn’t get her high-tops over it…
It had been a rough couple of weeks for the redhead no doubt, the stitches in her face and the ones healing along the back of her head like a constant painful reminder- some might have argued it might have been karma, that she deserved everything she’d been given and the hands that she had been dealt were a mere consequence.
Of course, those people only ever had half of the story cause anything else would skew their perfect narrative in a factual direction…
No, Baltimore hadn’t exactly been kind to her recently.
Vegas at least still held some hope.
There would be those still condemning what she’d done to Roxi as though given the opportunity they wouldn’t have done it themselves, that they too had at one point thought about doing exactly as she had done. She’d made a promise before Summer XXXtreme and now it seemed people didn’t like the fact she was willing to keep it…
Maybe it was easy for people to forget why they were in this industry, why any of them stepped inside that ring and put their fucking bodies through hell- it wasn’t for the love of the sport, and sure the money might have been nice but even that lost it's lstre after awhile…
It was to make a difference- and if making a difference meant doing some heinous things, meant hurting people who may or may not have deserved it if only to prove the hypocrisy of someone who’s vision of the world was black and white with shades of red ambiguity in between.
Amber didn’t hate Roxi, she fucking cared more than people realized… she just wanted Roxi to admit, openly and freely that she wasn’t everything she claimed to be, that heroism wasn’t real and that she was just as self-serving and ruthless as anyone else out there.
Amber wanted to hear Roxi admit that she was just like the Distorted Angel… and that it was okay.
It wasn’t the slander or the insults that hurt Amber the worst, that drove her in the direction they had taken- but Roxi’s insistence that being anything like Amber was an insult, was something to be frowned upon and shamed as though she herself wasn’t part of the world that had created someone like her. Roxi could stand on that pedestal and tell everyone they were wrong however couldn’t admit within herself that she too housed that same visceral nothingness.
A branch beneath her cracked loudly, however didn’t bow beneath her shifting weight, although she didn’t dare linger in one place for too long for fear of a visit to her childhood and the emergency room. Wrestling reminded her of the branches of a tree- some could take the weight of the world upon them and no one would ever notice cause they act as expected, many cracked under a pressure far underestimated and subsequently fell away noisily and the rest… well it's a tree, what the fuck else could be expected?
One day she’d learn, although Amber doubted today would be it and she imagined tomorrow probably wasn’t promising either. Perhaps the more pertinent question would have been- what will it take for Roxi to understand.
No longer was this a simple mind game, perhaps it once was but things evolved faster than either of them could ever have prepared for. No longer was Amber simply interested in proving Roxi to be a fraud and a liar cause she’d done a far enough good a job of that herself.
No longer would she stand and be told she wasn’t good enough- when all she’d done since walking through the door was impress... A stacked rostered full of women wanted their shot- not at the titles but at the redhead with the big mouth and fists like concrete, they wanted to test their might against someone who didn’t care enough about anything to lose.
Of course- the bombshells title would be on the near horizon- though admittedly, Amber contemplated tearing a crunchy leaf from a nearby twig,it would be quite the shame to have to liberate it from someone she was quickly considering a firm friend in Evie Jordan.
When it came down to it though, and what many seemed to forget a little too easily these days was in any given match, they’d get Amber at her best.
Put a title on the line though, and they’d get absolutely everything…
‘Just a matter of time’ or so they said… Oh, how they’d come to regret it surely when the time came.
