Author Topic: Season One, Episode 8: Past, Present and Future.  (Read 1242 times)

Offline Zoey Lukas

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Season One, Episode 8: Past, Present and Future.
« on: March 31, 2023, 06:12:41 PM »
Past, Present and Future

I hate being reminded of my failures. My faults. My mistakes.

I understand the compulsion of a parent to protect a child from themselves at all costs; to step into their lives and pull them back from the brink of stupidity and disaster. But, what value is there in constantly stopping someone from living their life?

In questioning every choice?

Every action?

Every moment?

Regardless of if any of them are, in fact, a mistake. Shouldn’t that be on the person in question? We learn from mistakes. We learn from experiences, both positive and negative, to form who we are and what we do. And being held back from that learning process is detrimental to evolution.

Evolution of character.

Of emotions.

Of ideals.

And for the last twenty-five years, that is what I have had to put up with from every single decision in my personal or professional life. Questions, doubts, bullshit. And when you reach a breaking point, when that moment happens and you break free of those chains – well, it is true freedom.

Or so I have heard.

I wouldn’t know. See, as hard as I try and fight, as much as I wish I could just stop caring and move on –do what my sister has done –, start living my own life by my own rules and morals, I just can’t seem to escape my mother. As much as my appearance and demeanor changes, as far as my life goes, I still let her have a say. I still listen to her outdated advice with baited breath. I allow her to step in and tell me what I should do. Instead of offering me support and motherly advice, she barks orders and threats.

But then again, maybe I’m the problem.

The last time...

Going to see her mother was difficult. Not because of distance or time. No, it was emotionally exhausting. And what was worse, this time, she was alone. Moving up the steps to the giant white doors with cheesy looking cold inlets and details always made Zoey’s skin crawl. This life, this upbringing of wealth, opulence and gaudy imagery, it wasn’t her. It wasn’t Alicia, and it wasn’t their brother, Josh, either.

It was all their mother. Barbera Conelia Lukas.

An aging socialite, tall, blonde, always dressed in gowns and diamonds even if she was lounging around the house. The last name of Lukas, the one that both Zoey and Alicia used professionally, came from their stepfather. A wealthy man that Barbara had married after the children's birth father Jason Maxwell had left her, more concerned with his dreams of professional wrestling stardom than staying at home with his son and daughters.

Zoey liked her stepfather, and deep down, loved her mother. But, with that being said, her mother was judgemental, righteous and had wanted both Zoey, real name Rose and Alicia, real name Violet, to become socialite beauty queens like herself. She wanted them to find wealthy men to marry and live the life of luxury she had gained for herself as well as being a dutiful, obedient wife.

Clearly, she didn’t know either of her daughters well enough to see their rebellious nature or strong will.

Zoey moved through the doors, past the “help” and into the parlor where her mother loved to spend her days and most nights. Barbara was in her usual spot, a large, white, cushioned chair, her hair curled and put into a 1950’s style bob. Zoey couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she moved to the opposite chair and sat down. In contrast to her mother, her short blonde hair was hidden under a black baseball cap that was flipped backward, she hadn’t even bothered to put on any make up, since her choices were usually criticized.

Fashion-wise, they were also complete opposites. Her mother was dressed opulently in a red gown and matching shoes, while Zoey wore white high tops, skinny black jeans with tears on her knees and a short sleeved black shirt. As usual Barbara looked her up and down and tried her best to hide the disappointment on her face, and failed. As was their usual song and dance.

Barbara let out a small sigh, put her teacup down on the small table beside her and sat back before opening her mouth and speaking with her usual light tone with a slightly judgmental southern twang. “Thank you,dear, for dressing up for the occasion.”

Zoey couldn’t help but let out a scoff as her lips twisted into a bemused smirk of defiance. “Occasion? What occasion? Is it Barbara Bush’s birthday or something?” Her dismissive, almost mocking tone caused the facade that her mother always put up to slip for a slight moment, her right eye twitching before she quickly recovered.

“Every visit from one of my lovely, beautiful daughters is an occasion…”

She almost laughed, at the stupidity of the situation, the fact she knew her mother, to some degree…meant that. Her mother, though, shifted. Her body language changed as she looked Zoey up and down. [color-hotpink]“It would have been a better occasion for say…Christmas.”[/color] And there it was, Zoey groaned and her shoulders dropped. This had been the first time she had seen her mother since getting back from Iceland with Aron.

“Mom, I wanted to meet Aron’s family…”

She scoffed. Zoey tried to stay calm, tried to keep her breathing measured. Alicia was so much better at this, so much better at simply ignoring their mother’s controlling nature and snide remarks. “Mmmhmm, and why have I not met your new beau, hmm? The most I have seen is him on television, and that long haired beast of a brother of his…” Zoey swallowed and looked around, she had not expected that her mother would every actually watch SCW, despite both her daughters working there. “I have kept up with you and your sister since you don’t come to visit me much anymore, and then I saw Aron….he is a handsome young man. But let us not forget the last handsome young man you were in a relationship with...”

Zoey ground her teeth together; that was a low blow. One that she should have seen coming. Zoey took a long drawn out breath in, closed her eyes and slowly let it back out again as she calmed herself down. “Michael was…a mistake…”

Michael Murtagh, a now retired former wrestler. One that had stolen Zoey's heart, but one that was trouble. One that would burn bridges as quickly as he put them up. One that was arrogant and self righteous, and as bad as that was, he was also abusive. “You don’t say? I could have told you that. In fact I did tell you that…..is that why you won’t bring Aron here? Because you know I will see through anything he has hidden?”

Her nostrils flared, her hands balled into fists, this was a tipping point and Zoey couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Like you did with Alicia’s ex? Hm? Kind of weird you basically sold her off to try and get us secured financially and didn’t see the abusive cocksucker that he was…huh Mom?”

Barbara's eyes widened. Alicia has said similar things, but never Zoey. Zoey leaned back and folded her arms over her chest again, shaking her head.

“How dare you…I had no idea that family was like that. And your sister…she…she was a beauty queen, a debutant! She wanted the life of a made woman…she-”

“Did exactly what you asked her to.” Zoey shook her head and moved toward the door, angry and frustrated, her hands shaking as she heard her mother turn in her chair. “Aron is a good man, and I will introduce you to him, when I am ready. And you will not judge him, you won’t say shit. You will be polite, smile and try and be charming…or…I simply won’t tell you anything about my life…ever.”

She turned looking over her shoulder at her mother. Barbara simply gave a nod, picking up her tea and sipping it as Zoey stepped toward the door, pushing it open and moving back through the house and to the giant front doors, as the cool air hit her, she breathed a sigh of relief and disbelief. Her phone buzzed, she pulled it out and smiled. A simple message from Aron.

Just a reminder Zoey, you’re beautiful…


Old Enemies, New “Friends”

The heavy clink of metal plates echoes through the large open area of the main floor of the gym. A gym that happened to be at the TV hotel they were all staying at. However, it was empty. A clock on the wall showing it was 3 A.M. And the only person in there was a tall, muscular, statuesque blond.

Zoey Lukas.

She lowered herself down, squatting with a bar over her shoulders. Three fifty pound plates on each side of the bar. She lowered down, pushing herself back up as the camera moved around her. She pushed back to her vertical base a second time and turned. “So, last month, I destroyed Cindy Halsey in front of all of you. I made it very very clear what my goal was.” Zoey lowered herself down again and then stood up with a grunt before placing the bar back on the rack.

[color]limegreen]“Cindy shouldn’t have been in the ring with me. That was obvious. I mean, few women should be. The Elite of this business should be. And now that she seems to be gone, I’m somewhat angry Amber Ryan and I will never get that chance.”[/color] She grabs a towel rubbing down what equipment and then hearse. Gym etiquette, people! “It is a rare thing, you know, for me to lose.”

She trails off and clears her throat.

“The only person in my SCW career who can stand in front of me and say they are better, is Tempest. She is the only person on this roster who has beaten me one-on-one. The reason why I can say Cindy didn’t belong in the ring with me is simple. Look at who I have beaten. Look at who has fallen before me. Jessie Salco, Samantha Marlowe, Mercedes Vargas. All of them, legends in this company and Hall of Famers, past and present. And yes, they have fallen, and yes, the competition in SCW has passed them by.”

“But all of them –all of them – are better than Cindy Halsey, who couldn’t buy a damn win in this company, least of all against me. So, that covers all my matches, since my partner ol’ Joey Monty decided to go ‘The Full Monty” and bare it all for you people…”

“You can thank me for the history lesson later.”

“But, before I get to the opponents, let me say this. If you have been in professional wrestling for longer than a week and don’t know who the Montuori family is…pack your shit up and leave wrestling. You have no business being in the business. So, being partnered up with Joe is pretty awesome, cause I know, despite his huge…throbbing….rather girthy ego, he will turn up and take care of his side of the match…just like I’ll take care of mine…”


Zoey scoffs and shakes her head.

“I was so ready for the Blast From the Past tournament. The concept is simple: a lottery of men and women, teamed up in random matches. The winners get title opportunities at their division’s champions. Teamwork makes the dream work, right? Well, I get to team with a legend of the business, a guy who has been a champion everywhere he’s been. A ring veteran. And on the other side of the ring in our first round match…”

“We have Casey Williams and Krystal Wolfe.”

“And hey, I’m sure you’re all waiting for me to shit on them right?”

“I mean Casey Williams hasn’t been relevant in ten years. And I mean that, literally. Like a decade ago he won the tag titles and the roulette title. And since then, in SCW he’s done two things: Jack and Shit. You know what I was doing ten years ago, Casey? I was in high school. And you’re a weird one. See, I could say size doesn’t matter, but then I’d be a hypocrite. You’re a huge dude. Muscular, tall and powerful…kind of like me. And you’re a veteran, kind of like Joe. But, all that height, power and experience means nothing if you don’t do a damn thing with it, Casey…”

“And you have done nothing in the last few years but take up a spot of someone more deserving and here you are, returning for the Blast From the Past, taking a spot in the tournament that could have been given to someone better than you….”


She steps forward, moving around the small weight bench and sitting down, undoing her wrist straps and shaking her head.

”Now, I’m not going to sit here and say Krystal doesn’t belong in this tournament, because she does. And I have to say, it must burn Krystal to see the title she made into something worthwhile get treated the way it has been. I mean, Krystal, you made the Roulette Title a prize, and in the same amount of time you had one reign, that title has been passed around to five different owners…”

“Kind of ironic since the current champion is Crystal Whateverherlastnameisnow. That title has been passed around to as many people as Crystal has married in the same amount of time…”

“So, I’m sorry you have had to watch that, Wolfe.”

“But, what I refuse to apologize for is what I am about to do to you in this match. See, I have had to sit back and watch you run your mouth about everyone you have faced, win or lose. If you win, you win your mouth, justified as it is. But the problem comes when you lose. See, you win, all is fine right? You lose and it was a fluke. You lose, and it was someone else's fault and you’ll ‘get them next time’. You steal people’s wins from them…”


Zoey groans and shakes her head.

“Even in this situation. You went on Twitter, you started talking about how you and Casey were going to beat Joe and myself. And when I clapped back, you brought up the second loss on my record. One that I didn’t mention before because I wanted to wait till I addressed you directly, Krystal. See, you and Carter are friends, right? Buddies? So, how does your friend feel that you're claiming a win that was his?”

“You’re all over Twitter saying you beat me – while technically correct, it’s also a little distasteful. See, Carter was the one who got the win, Carter was the one who stepped up and showed us all how good he was. Meanwhile I was beating you down like the bitch you are.”

“But, when people look in the record books, they’ll see you and Carter beat Miles and me.”

“I made peace with that: we lost. But for you to only tell half the story, to disrespect Carter like that and actually make it seem like YOU somehow pinned me or made me submit when all you did was flail around? Come on. You should be better than that. But, you’re not. You’re a soul sucking succubus who just takes everything from her friends and from this business, but never gives a damn thing back…and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you get a World Title shot….”
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