~*~Contender Made. Frustrations Founded.~*~
The cameras cut to the backstage area of Climax Control, where Bella Madison walks with a purposeful stride, the SCW Bombshell Internet Championship slung over her shoulder. The glimmer of the title reflects off the harsh overhead lights as she moves through the corridor, her expression unreadable. That is, until she is stopped in her tracks by SCW’s resident interviewer, Pussy Willow, microphone in hand and a knowing look on her face.
"Bella," Pussy Willow begins, stepping into frame. "Just moments ago, we witnessed Harper Mason shock the world by defeating two former SCW Bombshell World Champions, Crystal Zdunich and Alicia Lukas, to become the number one contender to your SCW Bombshell Internet Championship at Blaze of Glory XIV. After already defending your title against Harper once, how are you feeling about having to face her again?"
Bella lets out a sharp, breathy chuckle before tilting her head slightly, eyes flashing with something between amusement and venom. "How do I feel, Pussy? I feel entertained. I feel... impressed, actually." She shifts the title on her shoulder, letting her fingers run across the faceplate before locking eyes with the interviewer again. "Because for once, Harper Mason did something worth talking about. She stepped into that ring and outlasted two former world champions. She defied the odds. She did what some thought she couldn't. And you know what? I respect that."
Bella lets that moment linger before her smirk twists into something darker, more condescending. "But let’s be real here. Let’s call a spade a spade. Crystal Zdunich hasn’t been ‘that girl’ in a long, long time, and Alicia Lukas? She’s had her days, but lately? She’s been a shadow of what she used to be. So Harper getting this win? Sure, it's impressive—but it’s not a miracle. It’s not a revelation. It’s a reminder that sometimes, even the blind squirrel finds a nut."
Pussy Willow raises an eyebrow but doesn’t interrupt as Bella adjusts the title again, her grip tightening. "Harper, congratulations. You won. You earned your shot. But now? Now comes the part where reality sets in. Now comes the part where you realize that just because you earned this opportunity, doesn't mean you're ready for it. Because you and I? We’ve been down this road before. We stood in that ring, face to face, and you brought everything you had. And it wasn’t enough."
Bella leans in slightly, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper before rising again. "I was you once, Harper. I was the hungry one. The one who kept getting opportunities, kept coming this close, only to be reminded that I wasn’t there yet. But you see, I didn’t let that stop me. I didn’t crumble under the weight of failure—I let it forge me into the champion I am today. And now? Now I’m the one at the top looking down, watching you desperately try to climb back up just to get knocked back down again."
Bella steps back, her smirk returning as she tilts her head. "So, Harper, I hope you’ve been training harder than ever. I hope you’re ready to bring a fight unlike anything you’ve ever brought before. Because at Blaze of Glory XIV, it won’t be enough to just ‘surprise’ people. You’re gonna have to survive me. And sweetheart? I don’t plan on making that easy for you."
With that, Bella slings the SCW Bombshell Internet Championship back into place on her shoulder and flashes a smirk at Pussy Willow before walking off, leaving the interviewer speechless as the camera lingers on her retreating form.
As soon as the cameras cut and Bella rounds the corner backstage, she hears the excited squeal of "MAMA!" before feeling the tiny but powerful impact of her daughter running into her legs. A genuine smile replaces the sharp smirk she wore just moments ago as she immediately bends down, scooping up Máire into her arms.
"Hey, my little monkey," Bella coos, pressing a loving kiss to her daughter's forehead as Máire giggles, wrapping her arms around Bella’s neck.
Mal, standing just a few steps away, watches the scene with an amused yet knowing expression. "That was pretty intense," he remarks, crossing his arms. "You okay?"
Bella exhales slowly, shifting Máire in her arms as she rolls her shoulders, some of the tension still lingering. "I mean, yeah… but also, no," she admits. "I’m not mad that Harper won—she fought her ass off. But damn it, Mal, I really wanted it to be Alicia. I wanted something different, a fresh challenge. Instead, I feel like I’m running in circles, facing the same damn opponent again."
Mal steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on her back. "Bells, I get it. You want to test yourself against different people, prove you're the best against the best. But don’t let that frustration cloud your focus. Because Harper? She just shocked a lot of people tonight. She found a way to win when no one expected her to."
Bella exhales through her nose, her jaw tightening. "I know, I know. And I’m not gonna overlook her. But I’m supposed to be the pinnacle of this division, Mal. The one leading the charge. And yet, here I am, playing gatekeeper to the same damn challenger. It’s exhausting."
Mal’s hand moves from her back to her shoulder, his grip firm yet gentle. "Then don’t look at it like that. Look at it like this—Harper thinks she’s got a shot now. She thinks this is her time. You need to remind her why you’re still the champion. You wanted Alicia? Fine. But Harper took that away. And now, you make sure she regrets it."
Bella looks at him for a long moment before nodding, a smirk returning to her face. "You’re right," she says, shifting Máire slightly before turning her gaze to her daughter. "Guess Mama’s got some unfinished business to handle, huh?"
Máire, completely unaware of the intensity of the moment, simply giggles and claps her hands. "Mama win!"
Bella laughs, kissing her daughter’s cheek. "Damn right, baby girl."
Mal grins. "That’s my girl."
With that, the tension in Bella’s shoulders eases, but the fire in her eyes remains. Blaze of Glory XIV was coming—and Harper Mason was about to learn the hard way that Bella Madison wasn’t a champion who let history repeat itself.
~*~Revised “Tin Can”~*~
The soft hum of an old classic rock playlist filled the barn-turned-gym as Bella and Malachi set down the last piece of equipment in its temporary—yet inevitably not final—resting place. Bella took a step back, hands on her hips, and beamed as she looked around. The once-empty space of the rather huge polebarn that had now been temporarily named “Tin Can Deux” but of course that name was just a temporary placeholder until they had finished fully transforming it, with racks of weights neatly lining one side, treadmills and cardio machines set up along the other, and in the very heart of it all—a pristine, four-sided wrestling ring, its ropes freshly tightened and ready for battle.
"I still can’t believe this is ours," Bella mused, turning to Mal with an excited glint in her eyes.
Malachi smirked, wiping a bit of dust off his hands. "I mean, technically, it’s a work in progress. We both know half this stuff is gonna get shuffled around a dozen times before you’re happy with it."
Bella gasped in exaggerated offense. "Excuse me, I am not the one who is going to change my mind every five seconds about where things should go!"
Mal raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? You’ve already moved the kettlebells three times, Bells."
"Okay, but that’s because I keep thinking of a better spot for them!"
"And yet, somehow, they always end up back where they started."
Bella playfully shoved him, and Mal let out a dramatic grunt as if she had just hit him with a full-force lariat. "You are so annoying!" she huffed, but the grin on her face betrayed her words.
"And yet, you love me," Mal teased, catching her around the waist and pulling her close.
Bella looped her arms around his neck, swaying slightly with him in the middle of their half-finished gym. "Yeah, yeah, I do," she admitted, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Which is why I think, as a birthday gift, you should let your lovely, amazing, thoughtful wife kick your ass in that ring right there."
Mal scoffed, laughing as he let his hands slide down to rest at her hips. "Babe, my birthday isn’t until Sunday, and somehow I don’t think getting my ass kicked is the traditional way to celebrate."
"It could be!" she chirped. "Besides, our dating anniversary is right around the corner, too. Six whole years of me tolerating your ass. That should earn me a round in the ring, at least."
Mal chuckled. "Tolerating me? That’s rich coming from the woman who starts full-blown debates at two in the morning over the best Disney villain."
Bella pointed at him with full conviction. "Because it’s important, Malachi!"
Malachi couldn’t help but laugh at his wife, "You need help."
"I need a match in that ring."
Mal rolled his eyes but smirked as he released her, taking a step toward the ring. "Fine, fine. But just know that I’m not gonna go easy on you just ‘cause I love you."
Bella followed right behind him, stretching her arms overhead with a confident grin. "Oh, sweetheart, I’d be insulted if you did. But I’ll make ya a deal, the winner gets to rename this place. Tin Can Deux just...isn’t cutting it."
Mal stops at ringside, holding the ropes and looks at her, “It’s really not. But why winner? Couldn’t we just make my birthday present be me naming it?”
“Do you really think I’d make it that easy?” Bella says, raising her eyebrows at him and Mal just shakes his head.
“No, obviously not.”
As they climbed into the ring, the excitement of the moment filled the air between them. The gym was theirs, built with hard work and determination—but more than that, it was another step in their journey together. And for Bella, there was no better way to celebrate than by getting into the ring with the person who had always pushed her to be her best.
...a confident grin. "Good. Because once again, I’d be insulted if you did."
As they climbed into the ring, Bella bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, shaking out her limbs. Mal mirrored her, rolling his shoulders as he sized her up with a playful smirk.
"You ready for this, champ?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.
Bella smirked right back, dropping into a stance. "You tell me, birthday boy."
With that, they locked up in the center of the ring, laughter mixing with the echoing sounds of their training session—one more step in the evolution of their shared passion, in the heart of the gym they built together.
~*~Rules of Engagement: Second Chances come few and far between~*~
The air inside "The Office" was thick with anticipation, the echoes of training still lingering in the gym. Bella sat on the edge of the ring, one arm draped over the middle rope as she leaned back, completely at ease. The SCW Bombshell Internet Championship hung just a few feet away, gleaming under the gym lights—a tangible reminder of what she had fought for and what she had no intention of giving up.
Her lips curled into a smirk as she ran a hand through her damp hair. "Harper, Harper, Harper…" she sighed, shaking her head. "Back in my world, there's an unspoken rule: you get one shot, and if you blow it, you get in line like everybody else. But somehow, you managed to finesse yourself into another opportunity. You must really love the feeling of coming up short against me."
Bella leaned forward slightly, her fingers tapping against the middle rope. "Let’s take a short trip down memory lane, shall we? You and I, we’ve been in this ring together before. Just a few short weeks ago to be exact! And when that bell rang, guess who walked away the winner? That’s right—me. It wasn’t luck, it wasn’t a fluke, and it sure as hell wasn’t me getting caught by surprise. It was me being better. Smarter. Stronger."
Her blue eyes flicked to the championship before returning to the camera. "But here you are, back for more, thinking that the second chance is gonna be the charm. You want this?" She reached up, brushing her fingers along the championship belt. "You want to take this from me? Then you better come at me like your life depends on it. Because I refuse to be caught slipping. I refuse to be a stepping stone for you or anyone else."
She exhaled sharply, gripping the rope tighter. "Crystal let you walk all over her. Alicia got caught off guard. But me? I see you coming, Harper. I know exactly what you're about to do. You’re gonna throw everything at me, pull out every dirty little trick you’ve got, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I’ll break. That I’ll crack under the pressure. But here’s the thing—you don’t intimidate me. You don’t shake me. You don’t scare me."
Bella leaned back again, her smirk widening. "I earned this championship. I bled for it. I fought for it. And you think I’m just gonna let you waltz in and take it from me? Nah, sweetheart. Not a damn chance. I don’t care what you bring to the table—I’ll flip the damn thing over if I have to. You wanna go to war? Good. Because I’ve already got my armor on. And I’ll make damn sure that this little second chance of yours ends the same way as the first—with you flat on your back, staring up at the lights, wondering where the hell it all went wrong."
She stood up, grabbing the championship and slinging it over her shoulder. "This isn’t just a title to me, Harper. This is validation. This is proof of everything I’ve fought for, everything I’ve earned. And I’ll be damned if I let you take it away from me."
The SCW Bombshell Internet Championship hangs proudly on the top rope, swaying slightly as Bella leans against the middle rope, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the steel cable. She sits on the edge of the ring, one leg dangling while the other rests on the apron. Her expression is unreadable—calm, yet carrying the sharp edge of someone who knows exactly what’s at stake.
Bella tilts her head, her voice cool but laced with an undeniable fire.
"Harper, I need you to listen real close, because I want there to be zero confusion when I say this—you're not taking my championship. Not now. Not ever."
She exhales, shaking her head before glancing at the title.
"It may sound hypocritical of me but right now...I don’t do second chances. You had your shot before, and just like then, this one will end with you flat on your back, staring up at the lights, wondering what the hell went wrong. You like to tell yourself that you’re this unstoppable force, but let’s be real—you're not some prodigy. You’re not the future. You’re just another entitled brat who thinks the world owes her something."
Her lips curve into a smirk.
"See, the problem with you, Harper, is that you’re trying to make up for lost time. You want to pretend like your failures don’t exist, like your loss to me didn’t happen. But the thing is, I don’t forget. And I sure as hell don’t forgive. The last time we stood across from each other, you weren’t good enough then, and you’re not good enough now. You think just because you’ve got a little more experience under your belt that things are gonna magically change? Nah. That’s not how this works."
Bella’s smirk fades as she grips the ropes tighter, her body language shifting.
"Let’s talk about history, Harper, because I know you love rewriting it to fit whatever delusion you’re living in this week. You walk around acting like you’re some kind of world-beater, but the truth? The truth is, in the short career that you have had, every time you’ve had the chance to step up, to prove yourself, you’ve come up short. You’re not the one making history, sweetheart—I am. And unlike Alicia, I won’t get caught off guard. Unlike Crystal, I’m not just gonna lay back and take it. I earned this championship, the fans truly believed in me and ...and I’m damn sure not letting some desperate little girl with an inferiority complex take it from me."
Bella reaches up, lightly tapping the championship where it hangs on the ropes, her eyes narrowing.
"You think I don’t know what you’re gonna do? You’re gonna throw everything you have at me. You’re gonna pull out every dirty trick, every shortcut, every desperate move in your playbook because you know, deep down, that it’s the only chance you have. And guess what? I welcome it. Because I can take it. I can go as far as you wanna go, and then I’ll take it even further. That’s the difference between us, Harper—you need this to prove yourself, but I? I don’t have to prove a damn thing. I am the standard. I am the measuring stick. And after I beat you—again—you’re just gonna be another name on the list of people who thought they could hang”
With one last smirk, Bella stepped through the ropes, hopping down from the apron. "See you soon, sweetheart. Try not to disappoint me… again."
