The Wrong Queen
Scene One | Off-Camera | 29th March 2023
He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d arrived in Barbados. Luna knew the moment she saw the outcome, that he would be lost. A man who took his failures to heart, just as she. They’d checked into a room, he’d showered, gone to bed and then remained in bed. Not a word since he’d arrived, and now nearly two days on, he’d only just decided to eat. She’d been attempting to keep him company, but he was disconnected. It broke her heart.
And it was that false queen’s fault. She was too reliant on Alex to carry the match. Too reliant on Alex to win, and it had cost them. He’d worked a hurricane pace since winning the championship. His body was falling apart. Bruised and busted, Luna had done her best to keep him soothed. But she hadn’t been there, and in turn, the fake queen had failed them. Alex didn’t need partners. Alex didn’t need people associated with him, to keep him afloat. But she was going to do something to make it better.
“Lexi, baby. You have to eat something. You need to pick yourself up, lover.”
His eyes were hollow, distant and empty. It wasn’t the loss itself that was upsetting him. Luna knew him better than that. It was the living in the shadow of the legacies he saw around him. Being one of the most prolific Internet Champions was nothing compared to coming short against Griffin Hawkins. Coming short, and failing to retain so as to silence Carter and take on Ken again. It was the failures that came with the short-coming that was ruining his soul. But it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault.
“I lost again, Lu. I failed you, I failed her. I am a failure. Carter, Washington. Hell, I shouldn’t have even beaten Ken. Griffin Hawkins isn’t even fucking here to taunt me, and yet I keep falling short of the shadow he casts in every part of my life. I keep failing, Lu.”
Her arms snaked around his shoulders, linking her fingers across his chest. She pulled herself onto him, pressing her head against his, her chin resting lightly on his shoulder. She shook her head slightly, flexing her fingers to lightly scratch at his chest.
“No baby. It’s not your fault. You’re always trying too hard to save those who need to be saved. I was weak. But that cow. She had easy pickings, lover. Bobbie Dahl? That absolute fucking hack? She couldn’t even hold her own Lexi. She had the easiest mark of the night, and she failed you.”
His eyes focused a little, confusion etched over his features. A man of self-blame couldn’t comprehend the idea of someone else. But she could. She could very easily see the failures of another. The failures of a wannabe Queen. Of a snake wanting to elevate herself, and thinking she had the golden ticket. Luna would make sure Alex knew exactly where the blame lied.
“What queen is she? Arrogant, belittling. A bully, Alex. Everything you stand against, she is. A bully, a nasty little liar. She wanted to use you to gain her own success. And in that, she cost you. Bobbie Dahl should’ve been easy for her. Jack and you, you’re cream in this business. As much of a sleaze as he is, you know better. You know everyone has their opportunities to have a good night. And everyone can have bad ones. But nobody should have a bad one when it is Bobbie Dahl across the ring. You see, sweetheart? She’s to blame.”
Honey filled venom snaked its way through her every word. If there was one thing in this world that she knew how to do. It was to make sure he was okay. That he didn’t blame himself. That he was the man that she knew he could be. And if that meant turning him against the world itself. Then she would turn everyone into the villains that they knew them to be.
“No… but… I lost. Jack pinned me. Carter pinned me. It’s my fault.”
She swept her body around his quickly, placing herself in his lap. A hand rest lightly upon his chest, her other hand lightly cupping the side of his face. Her eyes locked with his, forcing him to gaze deep into her own eyes. Her nose pressed lightly to his, lips lightly grazing. Warm breath.
“She cost you, Alex. It is not your fault. I cost you, it was not your fault. But you are going to come back from this. You are going to show them. Show them what happens when we are broken again. No more bullies. No more arrogance. We’ll show them all, gorgeous. We’ll show them all.”
His brow narrows, nodding slightly. A smile spreading across her face, which was slowly matched by his. The rush of anger. The flames of passion. His eyes suddenly so much more present. His eyes suddenly so much more focused. The fiery anger of the slighted king.
“I will be king. I will be the champion.”
The lightest kiss put to his lips, as she swung her legs off to the side and stood up. Her hands leaving him as she walked off towards the tiny little kitchenette, looking to get some food started. He stood, placing an arm against the large window that allowed them to see out into the gorgeous beachside of Barbados. She smiled inwardly, happiness and giddiness bubbling inside her. He would never fail with her at his side. She wouldn’t let it. But in the meantime, she was also going to bring a crown back to their kingdom.
“I need you to teach me to control the hands of Fate, Lexi. I need to win, and show that I’m not some hitch to the wagon of the successful. I need to win the Bombshell Roulette Championship.”
He turned to her, a smile spread wide across his face. That chaotic energy bubbling beneath the surface. Something had already snapped in his mind, and she could see that, maybe, just maybe. She should have let it stew a few more days.
“Oh, we’re going to show the world what The Conspiracy is capable of, Luna. I promise you.”
She swallowed hard, as he turned back out to the window.
Things were going to change. And she was ready for it.
The Many Named Creature
Scene Two | On-Camera | 30th March 2023
A small stone room, four standing spotlights in each corner of the small square room. Panels had been cut into the wall, small darkened tunnels digging away into the darkness. In the centre of the room, a set of four heavy iron coffins. And just behind, a small table with a red velvet cloth, Luna Vanity sitting behind it. Swathed in white attire, her clothes clinging to her form.
She stretches an arm out, pointing towards the furthest left casket a set of candles igniting around it. Sitting on top of the lid, a white rose, tinged with flecks of red wax.
“Pretty Luna Vanity. Oh how she has failed to stand in the light that is cast from the flames of the kingdom of Alexander Raven. A failure, someone who attempts to ride the coat tails of success, but fails to enact. I can hear the murmurings. I can hear the cowing behind my back, the laughter. Paranoia, maybe, but I am happily paranoid. Because paranoia makes me focused. Focused on making sure the lies are just that. Lies. Slow start, yes. I understand better than anyone that bravado that leads to failure. Bravado in confidence that just being trained by greatness could cause it. But confidence continues to build in the kingdom of self-love. And in that, I am focused. Focused because I have to be. Focused because opportunity presents itself once more to The Conspiracy. Hard has it been, and doubt creeps into the mind of the One True King. But he will be free of the torment of his own misgivings. He will be freed of the doubt, because a focus is set. The necrotic flesh will be cut free, and focus will return to us. A focus on the end. A focus on the truth. To break the Stained Glass Lies. And in a turn of fate, a path has been put before us once more. This time, the wheel of fate falls to me, and with it, a chance to prove that the things we say are to be believed.”
She moved her arm, and placed her palms upon the table, pulling the cloth from its surface. A roulette table below. Black ravens on the red sections, red roses on the black squares. She placed the fingers of her left hand on the top of the table and spun it. The green 0’s replaced with silver crowns. Her other hand slowly slips into a pocket, and removes a small ball, dropping it into the spinning roulette.
“Crystal Caldwell. The unsuspecting woman of many names. Who returned, took the Roulette Championship from under the noses of many and now stands as the reigning queen of fate. The Bombshell Roulette’s Champion, the Burning Rose. The woman who loves herself so little, that she seeks the eternal validation in the acceptance and love of those around her.”
A smile spreads across her face, as the ball slowly skitters to a stop. Falling upon a black quadrant, a rose quadrant. The coffin with the rose begins to shake violent, the lid of it creaking openly slowly. A hand snaking its way out from the lid, and taking hold of the rose on the lid. A spark of flame, and it ignites. A Burning Rose.
“A knowledge of the past, helps with the present. Though, I must admit, I don’t know much about you Crystal. Conversely, I am a private woman. Someone that people won’t know much about either. Beyond being seen as nothing more than Alexander Raven’s other half. Nothing more than the bimbo beauty on his arm. I am more than the ideas that may be flung around. I am more than any of the failures. Perhaps a little premature and undeserving, some may say. My opportunity. Yet I think that the guidance of the world lends itself to proving this the correct course. Do you understand, lover? Christina Rose? Do you understand? The danger in the unknown is what makes this the perfect test of you. The perfect test of your control of fate. For the wheel spins, and you will have no idea the danger that stands across from you. The danger that leads itself in to being the thorn in your side. The danger that leads itself into being the one to take you to your own family crypt. Like the Chase Family, a cursed crypt of many. With each failure of life, a new name to hide the confusion. A lack of love for yourself, so as to build to a life and love that fails to protect yourself. But, I digress. We’re teetering into the realms of inane rambling, and I am not that eloquent I’m afraid.”
“No, Crystal, sweetheart. I am going to be very straight forward. Elaborate displays or otherwise, there is something unique in this encounter. You’ve had the opportunity to scout your opponents, you’ve had the opportunity to build game-plans. Plenty of tapes to watch, a wealth of a person to understand. You’ve had the ability to be prepared. You’ve had the ability to use the unknown to your advantage. But now, that advantage is well and truly gone. A failed outing against Dawn, and a less than stellar presentation against Carter and Angelos. What is there to be concerned by with this run of the mill Climax Control defense? I mean, I’m just the eyelash batting Queen who has failed to impress.”
The snap of the fingers, and the candles around the first casket go out. The lights in the room following, and momentary darkness takes the space. Another click, snapping of fingers, and the lights came back on. The first casket is now flipped and leaning against the wall, the lid cracked open, the ashes of the burnt rose now sitting on the floor now.
“The Chase Family Vault, a crypt haunted by the curse of the haunting that plagued the family. Death, after death. Suicide after suicide. A family mired in misfortune, and even in death their existence was continued to be tormented here. Barbados, beaches and beauty. Women, booze and excitement. Sunrises over the water, and an escape from the torture of the modern day. Yet for every beautiful piece of the world, there is a darkness beneath it. Mysteries that lay mired in myth and darkness. Barbados is the perfect place for this encounter Crystal, my pet. Fate is just as mysterious as the actions that happened in that crypt. Fate is just as mysterious as the gamble of the spin of the wheel. Fate is the guidance of the unknown, and here in Barbados. The unknown becomes undeniable. I become undeniable, when I change the hands of fate against you, Crystal. When I prove that Luna Vanity, the Queen of the Conspiracy, is also the matron of fate itself. Last year Alexander Raven shocked people by not only dethroning Finn Whelan, the future king, as the guardian of fate. But then stood tall on the cruise ship and become the King of Fate. Almost a year later, on the beginning of a new tour, we are offered the opportunity again. Luna Vanity is now vested with the opportunity to prove the power of Self-love. The power of understanding of oneself. And to prove the power of The Conspiracy. Nobody expects poor, sweet and green in the gills, Luna Vanity to beat the veteran Crystal Caldwell.”
Once more she stretches her arm out, pointed towards the furthest right coffin this time. Once again candles ignite, a white marble tablet sits on the top of this one. ‘Zdunich’ is etched into the surface of it. Another one of Crystal’s names, emblazoned with death.
“The past dictates our future, and I understand this well. I failed to overcome my own past, and in that, I wasn’t there to support Alex when he was plagued by the necrosis of his partner’s shortcomings. In your case, Crystal. Your past dictates your future as the mocked, belittled and unloved. Arrogance bubbles in your opponents, and it becomes their undoing. They take you lightly because of the jokes that bubble around you due to your own inability to maintain your own love and life. They laugh at your expense, because you give them fuel to do so. I won’t laugh, sweetheart. No, for I believe your past is what makes you so unpredictable in the now. The perfect Matron of Fate. The perfect Bombshell Roulette Champion. You take the weakness and you turn it into your strength. You take your lack of love, and push it upon others. You take your own lack of vanity, and make that your own vain attempt of being who you want to be. Weak in the knees, but always willing to get back on them. Destiny bares herself before us, and you have the opportunity to compensate that. You have the opportunity to continue on your path of glory. And why shouldn’t you? Pity is what is being given to us. Those who mock us, saw Alexander Raven stumble, and deign to insult us further. They expect you to win, and for me to lose. They expect The Conspiracy to spiral and teeter out. Mock and belittle, and the vocal against the bullying, arrogance and manipulation are silenced. The status quo returns, and they can continue to praise their own insecurity with change. With you Crystal, they intend to make an example. They think they will show us that we are not needed. That we are not wanted. That we do not deserve the vanity that we hold for ourselves. But I want you to understand this Crystal. This is not the case. I will not simply lay down and let you walk all over me. I will not let you be another thing used against us to mock us. To mock that of which we are just trying to show as the truth. I, Crystal, will show you my vanity.”
Her hand returns to the table. The left flicking and spinning the ball, the right spinning the roulette table itself. The illuminated coffin rumbles slightly, white smoke beginning to leak out of the gaps in the lid, spilling in billowing waterfalls to the floor. The ball comes skittering to a stop, now in a red quadrant, the one marked with the raven. The smoke engulfs the casket, obscuring the marble tablet. The croak and cry of birds muted by the walls. The click of fingers, the smoke suddenly retracting with a loud ripping sound. The tablet now cracked into many pieces, illegible now. Then another click, darkness.
“I wonder, Crystal. Are you ready to go to dark places with us? Are you ready to face the darkness that builds within? Are you ready to bleed with us? To inhale the smoke, cough and sputter. Are you willing to face the end, and smile in its face? Are you content with what you’ve achieved?”
The lights come back, Luna is now sitting on the middle left casket, the roulette table between the remaining two. On the other, a crown. Legs crossed over each other, hanging side saddle off the lid of the casket, hands on the table. Spinning again, and the ball dropped in.
“Kings and Queens. Everyone is suddenly obsessed with being royalty. We’ve been the One True of each since the day we stepped in here, and yet now. Now everyone wants to be what we have always been. Crystal, darling, do you see yourself as a queen? The Queen of Fate? The Queen of the table. The queen of love. I wonder, Crystal. How do you perceive yourself. Do you believe in the mysteries of the world? Or is Barbados just another step on the path for you. The path to proving that you are worth more than the lies, jokes and musings people make. Or are you so completely detached from your own world at this point, that you no longer recognise that you have become the bottom of all belief. That there is this slim hope that you slip and fall. That you fail to stand against Luna Vanity, and that a new queen is born. A new queen who will become the Matron of Fate, in her own self love. The vanity of my achievement begins with my first win coming at your expense. An embarrassment for you as a legend of this Sin City. An embarrassment for you to lose to the greenhorn with nary a sniff of victory under her. An embarrassment is what you will be deemed, and the beauty in the end is the truth becomes clearer. There is but one queen, and he only needed the one. For I am not only bothered by your own self-disdain, Crystal. I am also bothered by the existence of all the false ones who would pretend to be any level of important.”
The far right coffin from earlier, now free from the candles is on its side. The ball slowly comes skittering to stop once more, falling upon the green. Landing upon the crown. Luna smiles, as she reaches between the small gaps and takes the crown from the top of the other, placing it upon her head. The lid of the now bare casket bursting off, landing violently a few feet away. A faceless figure laying within. Caldwell scrawled across their cloth covered faced in bright red.
“Mystery will not save you, and fate will forsake you. I promise you both these things. For like the Chase Family, you too will be buried, and set in cement, stone and sand. To ensure that nobody every disturbs your resting body. For once I am done with you, Crystal. For once I am done beating you black and blue, pushing the blades in to loose the crimson flows, and showing you the truth in your own forsaking of vanity. You will understand the gift that has been given to you. Freedom, Crystal. Freedom from this failure of an existence, and another opportunity to be something better. But whilst I offer you escape. I need someone else to know, that there will be none for them.”
Eyes narrowing, the cold cutting gaze now focused on the centre of the roulette table. Her hands absentmindedly stroking at the sharp spines of the crown. The steel slicing into her flesh. Blood beginning to drip from her cut fingers, falling on to the bright white attire. Splashing it in the dull red of the blood. Her eyes unfocused as the softness returns to her features.
“Alexandra Calaway. The False Queen who cost him everything. The False Queen who has caused my king to be stuck in the grudge of his desire to break the legacies left before him. The False Queen who now sits alone. I want you to listen to real close, for I am the one who has to pick up the pieces of your failures. I am going to hurt you. I am going to make sure you understand that whilst Alex does not blame you himself, I do. I blame you completely for costing him not only the Internet Championship, but costing him his opportunity to have a guaranteed chance at the Worlds Championship. I need you to understand that I intend to win this week, to prove more than just Luna Vanity being a capable second in The Conspiracy. I intend to win the Bombshell Roulette Championship, so that when you take your fall at my hands. At my discretion. You will not only feel the sting of defeat. But you will also feel the collapse of your confidence. The collapse of your ability. And you will be forced to acknowledge the problem you have caused. I will pick up his pieces, for I am the One True Queen, and you. You are simply a harlot who played at being more than she was. You couldn’t even stop, Bobbie fucking Dahl. You insipid fucking cunt.”
Blood continues to flow and fall, her top now soaked in the red. Her hands swathed in the red liquid. Shaking her head a little, she lowers the hand into her lap, and holds it with her other hand. Looking at the crimson vitae flowing from the wounds. A slight smile crosses her face, as stomps her foot. Once more the lights go out.
“Crystal, are you willing to bleed?”
Lights on.
The coffins are all back in a line, all shut tight.
And then…
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothing.
