Girl’s Night Out
Scene One | On-Camera
“So, what’s the gossip Lulu? How's married life treating you?” Adrienne asked.
This was in fact the third time that Adrienne had asked these exact questions. The six empty cocktails and three picklebacks had obviously hit the little pocket rocket a bit harder than it once would have. Was their little marigold finally growing up?
“You know, it doesn’t feel much different. I thought there would be this sense of change. I don’t know, maybe it’s because we’ve felt like a married couple our whole lives. We just put the nail in the coffin this time.” Luna replied, talking over the raucous noise of the bar.
A round of beers, some shitty pale ale that this obnoxiously loud bar was serving. Adrienne handed Luna her pint, and the two of them rounded back to a booth they’d be occupying for the evening. At one point someone had tried to take their booth. Tried being the keyword. If there was one thing the two tiny ladies were good at doing, was putting people in their place.
Slipping back into the booth, Adrienne leaned forward urging Luna forward. She could almost hear the question in her head. Maybe because they had had this conversation already. Stuck in a loop, and the Adrienne wasn’t even high. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
“What’s Alex like in the sack? I always imagined those boys would be good roots. But Alex was tied up with Lauren, and James was of the other persuasion. You strike me as a bit of a freak. Does he keep up?” Adrienne asked, just a touch too loudly.
Luna rolled her eyes a little. Despite how long they had lived in Australia, and how long she had spent with Adrienne. The differences in just the way they talked were night and day. Despite her bubbly bright eyed and innocent doe eyes, Adrienne was as bogan a girl she’d ever known. And with it, the lack of decorum was almost endearing.
Almost.
“Well, I can’t speak for my brother to any length. But he did always seem to have a long line of suitors and obsessives. So take that as you will. Alex? For the longest time, I thought he just had no interest in it. I still don’t think he does. Trauma can fuck people up, ya know? But to answer your question. It’s better than anything else I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s the love element?” Luna replied, attempting to stumble through the question as well as she could.
Luna tapped Adrienne on the nose, who was set to burst into a giggle fit. If there was something she knew, it was that Adrienne loved to make others uncomfortable. The queen of the shock factor, as James had dubbed her. It was nice to have something of familiarity back in her life.
Luna had been doing her best to shake that visual from her head. Alex with that gun pointed at Sullivan. Watching his finger twitch on the trigger and pull it. Their lives had only really just started, a new journey, and it could have all been thrown away for a stupid, stupid decision. She’d been angry in the moment, but the more she thought about it. The more she justified it.
Picking up the beer, she downed almost half of it in one go. Adrienne in a better state of mind slowly sipped away at her one. Maybe realising she needed to pace herself. Or maybe it was because her wandering eyes had fixated on a heavily tattooed, long brown haired and tall man standing at the bar. That seemed far more likely.
“I’ve missed you cunts, ya know? Like, nah, hear me out on this.” Adrienne said loudly.
Nearby patrons were both amused and repulsed by the very Australian girl talking very loudly. A few moved away, a few moved closer. It was interesting this sort of magnetic force that this girl had. Both attraction and repulsion all in one.
“Things’ve just been hard, yeah. Like, I sort of fell on me arse and it's taken me a minute to pick it all up again. Finally moved out of Scumbury and got a job at Knifepoint. But, like, I wasn’t feeling it, yeah? So when I heard about Jimmy, I had to try and scrape some funds together and hop on over. I’d kick meself if I didn’t at least give a go like what James wanted.” Adrienne waffled on.
Luna cocked an eyebrow. She knew Adrienne had been looking to throw her hat in the ring. What she didn’t know was that it was related to James and his wants. Funny how things seem to come together in the direst of circumstances. The nicest part was the ability to finally talk about James without wanting to burst into tears. Her heart still hurt, but it wasn’t teetering on the edge of oblivion now.
“Was wondering what made you hitch your wagon all the way over. Now it makes sense. What’s the plan, Marigold?” Luna asked.
Adrienne smiled, placing her beer down as she leaned on her palms, elbows planted in the table. It would seem that the tall tatted man had also now noticed Adrienne and they were making eyes at each other. At least this meant that she could spend the night laying in bed with Alex. As much as she loved having Adrienne around for a bit. She did miss having the alone time with Alex. It was nice of him to take the couch, but it did seem oddly unnecessary.
“You guys having a blue? I mean, I’m mighty chuffed to have a soft bed. But, it seems like Alex is treading glass. Like ya gonna bite his head off.” Adrienne asked, completely ignoring the questions.
The question was like a knife to the gut. Also oddly specifically timed. Like Adrienne was reading Luna’s mind. She had been doing her best to be normal. To not seem angry or out of sorts. Maybe she was trying too hard? Maybe Alex was just an easier book to be read that she gave credit. Whatever the reason, Luna tried to laugh it off and shook her head.
“Just something silly, I don’t think it is that serious. I think he’s just always trying to be the knight in shining white, running to the aid and servitude of pretty little redheads.” Luna said, suddenly unsure of herself.
“Well, I’m going to go pick up that bad boy. So you should call Alex and see what he is up to.”Adrienne wiggled her fingers at Luna, and then wiggled her fingers at the boy she had been eyeing. Luna nodded, and smiled. Ever the fixer of problems, it seemed. She took her phone out, scrolled the contacts and pushed on his name. The phone rang, and then again. And then he answered.
“Hey, Lexi baby. Adrienne’s going to go home with a… friend.” Luna managed to get the words out, slurring somewhat. They both giggled a little, making Luna realise that she may have been just as drunk as Adrienne. Just a little better at hiding it.
“So, I’ll be home soonish. Maybe an hour? Just you and me for the rest of the night. Okay, lover?” Luna said a little louder than probably was necessary. But that was okay. She just wanted him to hear here. To know she was there for him.
“I love you, Lu. I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’ll still be up.” He said slowly, trying to keep the hollowness out of his own voice. The taint of alcohol heavy on his voice. Luna laughed a little but more out of habit than anything. He was having a rough time by the sounds of it.
“Sounds like you had a party on your own. You okay, baby-boy?” Luna asked.
“I’m okay, Lu. I’m okay hearing your voice.” Alex said. Her heart hurt, just a little. She knew he was suffering. She thought she’d been doing right, but maybe not. He wasn’t the most obvious with anything, but he was a sweetheart when he needed to be. He needed love, the same way she did.
“Well, let me say goodbye to the wee Marigold, and I’ll talk to you all the way home. Okay?” Luna said softly. Warmly.
“I’d like that.” Alex said, sniffling a little.
“I love you.” She said as she hung up and smiled at Adrienne.
“Go home ya fuckin’ sap. Ya both need a fuckin’ root, I swear.” Adrienne leaned across the table and planted a big kiss on Luna's cheek. She winked at her as she scooted out of her seat, beer in hand and was almost instantly attached to her victim for the night.
Luna shook her head a little, and downed the rest of her own beer. She booked an uber to come and get her. A few minutes away, plenty of time to sober up a bit. Plenty of time to talk to Alex. Looking at her phone, she smiled. A photo of them, Alex, James and Luna, was set as her background. All smiles, all happiness.
She just wanted to be that happy again.
“Okay, so let me tell you everything.” Luna said as soon as Alex answered her next call. A sudden giddiness in her stomach. And a renewed focus. In this life, there wasn’t much left. But there was him. And she had to keep him grounded.
“You have my full attention.” Barbed Wire Queens
Scene Two | On-Camera
“It seems poetic that the weekend that follows International Women’s Day, we’ve got a card full of powerful women, doing powerful things. A main event featuring Tempest, and two incredibly undeserving ladies for the Internet Championship. Crystal gets a warm up match, because she somehow was voted to be the chosen woman to challenge for the Internet Championship at Blaze of Glory. Questionable, and I’d really like to see what morons decided to pick her over someone like… me.”
“The other half of the undeserving tandem, Samatha Marlowe looks to derail poor sweet little Harper’s desire to rebuild and regrow. Inevitably on the same path that her surrogate mother, Jessie Salco was one. Peaking at the bottom, and never going to reach above her station. Although, maybe they should throw Harper to me. I could be just that very good luck charm that she needs. It’s almost poetic that in a week that features so many powerful women, following our dedicated day. That two power hungry, delusional and soulless fucking dick holders, think that they should ‘punish’ little ol’ me.”
“Oh, I saw your snide little remarks, Christian. You sit there in fucking silence whilst we have begged, and pleaded and cried and begged. Sat there quietly whilst we suffered and then put the knife to our throats for daring not to follow through on the commands of the big and powerful suited men. You’re going to fine me, right? For daring to put my hands on poor little Ben Jordan. Do it, daddy. Take away my money because I dared to put my hands on Mr Jordan. Take away my dignity if it helps you feel powerful.”Luna Pasilno is sitting in a quaint little bedroom, white sheets, no quilt or blankets. Pearly white pillows. Hanging on the walls are pseudo-nude paintings. Luna’s nude paintings to be more accurate. Valentine's gifts.
“I’m not afraid of you, Christian. I’m not afraid of Mark. I’m not afraid of a single person who thinks that their ‘power’ puts them in any position of control over me. So I ask you to do your fucking worse. I’ll pay your little fines, I’ll take my ball and stand there. Batting my eyelashes and asking for my sweet surrogate fathers to forgive their poor little masochistic daughter.”
“I’m sorry daddy, I didn’t know I couldn’t put my hands on the big tough Ben Jordan. I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Oh, but right. I shouldn’t try to be cute. It doesn’t suit me. And I think you may be on to something there. Which brings me back to Climax Control. Something I’m sure you’ve become very astute at with all that edging you employ, Christian.”
“There’s my match. The Conspiracy, lovers in life, lovers in eternity. Alexander Raven and The Idol herself, Luna Pasilno. Facing off against the uppity little nobody, Miles Kasey. The lesser half of the people Ariana threw herself back into the arms of once she’d done getting the golden rub from yours truly. And of course, his friend. The sweet angel, the former queen herself. The dethroned Roulette Champion, and coming off a short-step against the focused and powerful Juliana DiMaria. Of course, I’m talking about you, Alexandra.”
“We meet again, my barbed wire queen.”Etchings of frustration line her features. Dancing their way into her eyes. A twitch in the eye, an uncontrollable flaring of the nostrils. Not one to ever hide her irritation well, Luna placed a hand to her face, obscuring her features beneath her palm. Beneath her splayed fingers. Closing her eyes behind them.
“The last time we crossed paths, we were different women, weren’t we? You the new dewy-eyed princess, the lady who sought to silence the mouthy little bitch known as Luna Vanity. The veteran that was going to put me in my place for overstepping. And then? You lost.”
“No two ways about it, no other way to slice it. You lost, lover. You lost and you had the audacity to try and excuse yourself for it. A concussion, I think it was? That was the horseshit excuse you used, to try and reason as to why the little pretty nothin’ stepped to you, in your world, and put you through the ringer. I was to be the one that changed the trajectory of your career here, and yet. You became what I asked of you. My Mary Jane Kelly, my fifth victim. The canonical fifth. Poetic is one way to put it. I’m not that way inclined, but poetic is apt. Poetic because it really did silence your bitch ass up.”
“Things changed, trajectories altered. You went on to win the title that I couldn’t seem to keep off Jessie. You then defended that championship, week after week, month after month. A woman filled with passion, desire and bravado. Something was ignited in you, and you had to show up. You had to be the best you could be, and I wonder why that is? You see, angel, I think I was the reason you had that fire lit under your ass. I was the reason you had to work so hard to prove that you belonged. That you could step with the best, and you weren’t just an overnight wonder blowin’ into town to be blown right back out when you were used up.”
“So from the bottom of my heart, I just want you to know. You’re fucking welcome, Alexandra.”Luna shakes her head a little, and leans back, dropping onto her back on the bed. Sprawling out across it. Her hand snaked under one of the pillows, looking for something. The hand on her face slowly moved up to hang loosely over the edge of the bed instead.
“Seems like that’s just a little bit of the trend that I have here. I took the championship from Crystal, and started Jessie Salco on the best run she’d had in years. I beat you, Alexandra, and then suddenly you’re a champion among champions who can fight and fight every damn week without fear or worry for your own safety or failings. I take pity on Ariana Angelos, and offer my friendship to her. Show her the way to being the Internet Champion, and then she spits in my face, takes my title and doesn’t even send her condolences when I’m falling apart at the seams when my brother dies.”
“I thank Tempest for being sincere, show her the fight that she wants. Stand by her in her little tirade with Courtney Pierce, and then she has the audacity to complain about me, being me. Has the audacity to take the championship away from me again. I seem to have this uncanny fucking ability of elevating every other woman I cross paths with. And do I get a single bit of thanks for the work that I do? Do I get a single thought or care sent my way, for all that I’ve done to change the landscape? Does anyone even think to show me an ounce of the love that I show them? I’ll answer for you, Alexandra.”
“Nobody gives a flying fucking damn.”Her hand feeling around under the pillow stops, seemingly wrapping around something. A momentary wince, a zap of pain flashing across her features before fading. The anger, the irritation also fading. The look of calm and serenity.
“But it’s okay. I’m not upset, clearly. No, I’m a level headed woman, with the sanity and sanctity to see what needs to be done and continue to move forward. Because I’m very much tired of being the butt of every joke. I’m very much tired of being the one that people look at and feel the incessant need to ridicule and belittle. I’m very much tired of being known as Alexander Raven’s fuckin’ hanger on. Because nobody has anything fucking intelligent to say. Nobody has a single original thought. I give and I give, I show the world the rawness that is Luna Pasilno.”
“I talk about the little whore who could, the girl with the brother who was just a little bit ‘wrong’. I talk about me overcoming adversity, I talk about dealing with drug addiction. I show the world how fucking strong I am, and all I get in return is the same rhetoric. ‘Oh Luna Pasilno, she’s the girl who can’t hold on to a championship.’ ‘Luna Pasilno? She’s that one who can’t win a match right?’ ‘Luna Pasilno? Oh you mean Alexander Raven’s groupie.’ A world of things people could think, say or do. And they all just think, say and do the same.”
“So I do want to thank you a little, Alexandra. I want to thank you for being one of the only people who at least tried to get under my skin in a different way. To mock and belittle me as a result of my inexperience compared to yours. Oh but wait! No, that’s the same horseshit I have had to listen to for the last year. How I’m so green, and they’re so much better. How the veterans are the ones who we should all be listening to. Sit under their learning tree, and only do as they say, not as they do. Because what they do is actually not what they fucking say.”
“The point and wiggle their fingers, they accuse and drag down. They spew hate in a world that needs love, and then they wonder. They wonder why they become a step too slow. They wonder why the new generation is disrespectful. They wonder why us young upstarts refuse to listen and want to fight. Want to make mistakes and learn by experience. They wonder because they cannot comprehend a world where they are not given the respect that they feel they are due, despite never fucking earning it from us. You are part of that same problem, Alexandra. Because you couldn’t even face up to the fact that you fucking lost in that Barbed Wire match, to Alexander Raven’s shadow, Luna fucking Pasilno.”Slowly she retracts her hand from under the pillow. The very iconic barbed wire crown held tightly in her hand. Some of the barbs had dug into her skin, cutting into her flesh and as a result small trickles of blood began to seep from the wounds. Droplets falling onto the white sheets, and the white pillows. Sitting up again slowly, bringing her other hand to grab the other side of the crown. Barbs digging into this hand too. Both hands being ripped up by the barbed wire.
“You, Alexandra. You were the beginning of it. Of my little journey down this path of hatred. Of anger, of frustration. With you, I began to see the problems of those who are stuck in the past. Of the ‘veterans’ who cannot accept what is in front of them. They feel the need to make excuses for their short-comings against the youth, and then mock them for things that they would ‘never do’ themselves, in victory. Now I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I would think you’ve been bubbling and boiling beneath the surface.”
“I would think that ever since your failure over in London, you’d have been biding your time. Waiting for an opportunity to get your revenge on this ditzy bipolar little bitch. The Harley Quinn of Sin City as Tempest put it, I think. Erratic, and delusional. The perfect pairing for Alexander Raven in The Conspiracy. The Kingdom of The Conspiracy to be more accurate. It’s a bit of a double meaning in that one. Are you clued into why? I think you are. I think you’re smart enough to understand why the name exists the way it does.”
“It doesn’t matter right now, what matters is the other reason for it. The Conspiratorial part of the Conspiracy, if you will. See, I think they’ve thrown us into this match, because they think we’ll fumble it. Not only are we the last match before the main event, I think they’re trying to protect Samatha Marlowe and Ben Jordan from us. Conspiracy theory of mine. What they don’t know, Alexandra. What they don’t understand, is as much as I love and support my man, I have something to prove when it comes to you. Because I think they want you to beat me. To erase that blemish, and so you can waltz about like you are worth something. They want to prove that we don’t deserve that which we have been demanding, because we can’t even beat the team at the very bottom of the rankings.”
“That’s you, by the way. Miles Kasey and Alexandra Callaway, friends who decided to team up, but don’t actually fucking matter worth a lick. Friendship doesn’t count for much when the two of you aren’t good enough individuals to make a greater sum. And some might point out the short-comings of The Conspiracy. Point out that we talk and talk, and we don’t always capitalise on it. I’m not a moron, Alexandra. I can hear the bullshit spew. But the worst part of it is those that do lose to me. To Alex. To the Conspiracy? What does that make them? If we’re just a bunch of mouthy losers, then what does that make the losers to us?”Luna raises the crown and places it on her head, releasing her hands to then drag her bloodied palms and fingers across her face. Leaving streaks of the blood across her face, before placing her hands on the white sheets. More staining red.
“So let us do this dance one more time, shall we? You’ll tell me how I need to shed my preconceived notions. How you’re a different woman than the one I stepped into the ring with all those months ago. How things will be different this time, because you aren’t suffering a concussion, despite the fact there does really seem to be any actual fucking evidence besides your lousy and flimsy excusing for the existence of said, concussion.”
“I might even bring the crown of thorns for us, my sweet darling good. So you can relive what it feels like to be the canonical fifth. To be my Mary Jane Kelly, and to be the woman who once again, comes up short against Luna Pasilno. To be the one who fails Miles Kasey again. To be the woman who is all talk, all bark and absolutely no bite. Because I’m sick of being the one that lights the fires under the asses of these lousy, lazy and pathetic slags that walk around this place. I’m tired of being questioned because I’m not living up to expectations. I’m tired of making excuses for others, when nobody wants to even acknowledge the successes I make.”
“I’m just fucking tired Alexandra. I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay. I’m tired of my friends not really being my friends. I’m tired of every bit of toxicity that flows into every aspect of this industry. I’m tired of being the only one that admits to my fucking sins here in Sin City. And when I tell you, I’m tired, you can bank on me not wanting to deal with your petty bullshit Alexandra. I don’t want to hear the excuses, I don’t want to hear the lies. I want you to wrap your hands in the barbed wire, put on your crown of thorns and admit it.”
“I want you on your knees, telling the world the truth. That Luna Pasilno is just that little bit better than you in every aspect of your life. And it kills you inside to know that there is nothing you can ever do to change it. You’re always going to be slower, weaker and older. And there’s not a damn thing you, Miles or any one can do to change that. So I’ll save a spot for you my darling, a pretty little hole. And you can wear your pretty little crown, and know. That The Conspiracy deserves everything you pretend you have earned.”Luna stands up slowly, leaving bloody handprints on the sheets, the blood on her face beginning to dry. Small hairline cracks appearing in the smeared crimson mask.
“Let’s not forget you though, Miles. You’re welcome, by the way. You’re welcome for having your friend back. You’re welcome for me taking care of sweet Ariana and giving her her confidence back. You’re welcome for me doing everything I could to help rebuild and encourage that girl, whilst you and yours attacked and ripped her down. You’re welcome to have her back, because after the shunning she did of me? I don’t fucking want her.”
“You, Carter and Ariana. Insipid, spineless and soulless the lot of you. Friends? None of you truly know what it means to be friends. None of you truly know what it means to support, uplift and care. To reach out and offer the branch of kindness. I bared my heart for Ariana, when you shunned her. I offered my soothings to Carter when his father passed. Hell, I would have even taken a moment for you in your shortcomings if you needed them Miles. But, kindness runs one way with you all. Kindness runs only in the direction of lifting yourselves. Of encouraging your own, and that leads you to stand with Alexandra Callaway this time.”
“You are just part of the problem that we are trying to fix. The soulless and heartless approach to life, that the egotistical and narcissistic seem to think is the correct way to live. Devoid of love for your fellow human beings. We’re going to have to hurt you, Miles. You and Alexandra, and make an example. The Conspiracy will bleed any who perpetuate an archaic way of life.”Slowly lifting the barbed wire crown from her head, she stares at it longingly for a moment. Both The Idol and The Masochist at heart. A few moments later, she turns and throws the crown onto the bed. Into the smeared bloody handprints on those pristine white sheets. In a room filled with different painted versions of her body.
“Vanity may die. But love, love is eternal. And so as much as I love you both. It doesn’t mean I have to fucking like either of you.”And then…
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothing.
