[Christian Underwood]

Please post all roleplays here! Have fun and good luck!

[Frankie Holliday]

Well, here we are!

Headed out on the ocean, and headed for history.

I know, you never imagined this. I certainly didn’t. But here we are anyway.

And look, just like I said, I didn’t walk out on Kayla, and she didn’t walk out on me. We won. We were the winners. So, I must thank my captain yet again for carrying me to a huge victory in a tag match that will soon be forgotten aside from a footnote of what my 4th official match was before I won the Bombshell’s title in my 5th.

I have spoken of change, I have spoken of revolution and evolution because it needs to happen here. The champion, Kayla Richards is the prime example of the rut we’re in. She’s our Bombshell’s champion, I would hope she defeated a lesser, and well past-her-prime Mercedes Vargas, and she did. But… the only reason that this is the true main event, is that I am in it, as I said.

I’m sure Kayla is happy someone else is doing the heavy lifting since she’s incapable of it, but that’s just going to be one of many things she thanks for in the end after I am champion. She might not see it now, but she’ll learn to appreciate it.

I know I had to have the same thing happen.

There’s a lot you learn from the chains of love.

Let us begin a new chapter.

You’ll learn a lot.

Trust me.

I almost hate to admit this, but Charlie is one of the reasons I’m even in the wrestling business.

I can blame him for a lot of things, but yes, my journey into pro wrestling started with him. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know if my journey would have led me to re-discover pro wrestling. He has lived rent free in my head for so long, that when that option became available, I immediately thought of him. For better or for worse, he has always been there, just not consistently.

Charlie never really had any interest in anything I did as a child. So long as I didn’t get in trouble at school, so long as I didn’t get arrested for stealing or some kind of crime, Charlie couldn’t have cared less about my life or hobbies or interests. So long as they weren’t illegal, I was free to do as I pleased. My mother really was the one who tried to teach me things, Charlie just… provided material things I suppose. He got me everything I ever really needed that was material. I got Barbie’s and a big wheel, and a bike, and all the things I asked for. But once I got them, I was left to my own devices as to how to make any of it work.

Charlie didn’t really “teach” me to ride a bike. I got on, and he would shout one word instructions to me.

I remember getting on, after he took my training wheels off, and finding the petals and holding onto the handlebars. We were in the driveway and he pointed towards the backyard.

“Pedal.” He said.

So, I pedalled back to the backyard. There was a small downward slope in our yard, and suddenly, I was going faster than anticipated. Without the training wheels to guide me, I felt like I was going out of control.

“TURN!” he shouted.

Without the wheels, I was scared that I would dip down, fall over and crash. So I slammed on the brakes. I skidded to a halt, and looked back up. Charlie was shaking his head in disappointment. I realized I had to learn to do this, to get over my fear of crashing. So what if I crashed? All I had to do was turn.

Finally, after a few tries, I turned and, low and behold, I did not fall over. My weight counterbalanced the dip of the bike to an extent. All I had to do was turn. I just had to figure out how.

Charlie was correct, despite not actually explaining anything.

That was probably the most parenting he ever really gave me, until one day.

One day, when I was 14, Charlie began to take interest in me. I was so weirded out by it. After years of “yeah” and “that’s great” delivered so sarcastically every single time, to have him suddenly interested in me and my studies was jarring. I never imagined that he would ever want to do anything with me, much less be in my life. He gave me no advice or wisdom, he just let me do things on my own. Maybe it’s because he was taking care of my mother, but I don’t know for sure what exactly sparked this interest.

Just one day, I had to stay after school and do a science project my freshman year, and he needed to pick me up. This happened regularly, but normally we went straight home. But on this day, we didn’t take the route I had become accustomed to.

“Where are we going?” I asked, looking out the window to an unfamiliar part of town for me.

“Mickey’s” Was all he said.

Again, Charlie just acted like I knew things when I did not. I had no idea who or what “Mickey’s” was, but I also knew it probably didn’t have anything to do with the mouse.

And sure enough, we pulled up to a bar. I had no idea why my dad was taking me to a bar when I was not old enough to drink, or drive for that matter. But he walked in, and it was like he became a completely different person.

“Hey Mickey!” He shouted at the man behind the bar. Mickey turned and had a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, Charlie! How are ya?!”

Mickey made his way down the bar and shook Charlie’s hand. Charlie then turned to me, and motioned to Mickey.

“Mickey, this is Franchesca, my daughter. Franchesca, this is Mr. Altieri”

“How are ya, kiddo?” Mickey asked, his voice pretty gentle and jovial.

“Fine.” I responded.

“Good to meet ya, and… you can call me Mickey.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Mickey turned to Charlie and patted him on the shoulder.

“The usual, Charlie?”

“You got it.”

We walked to the bar, sitting on the old stools. For one of the first times since I was a small child, Charlie looked at me with seemingly care in his eyes.

“You want something to eat? Drink? He asked.

I was shocked by this behavior.

“I’m not old enough to drink.” I replied.

“I know that. I meant like a coke or something.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh… yeah, I guess.” I said with a shrug.

“Mickey, give me a coke and uh…a plate of nachos.”

“You got it, Charlie.”

Charlie smiled at me, and then it disappeared.

“You like nachos, right?” He asked, genuinely not knowing.

“Yeah, it’s fine dad.” I said in response.

We got the nachos, I got my coke and Charlie got his beer. Several of them in fact. And when the booze hit, he was far more friendly then I had ever seen. He was the life of the party. He somehow knew everyone that came into the bar and introduced me to so many people I lost count. I just ate my nachos while Charlie socialized.

I had never seen this side of him before. Charlie was doing this whole thing and it felt so fake. It had to be the booze doing this. But there he was. Smiling, laughing and joking. He seemed pretty happy. I don’t remember the last time Charlie smiled at anything that wasn’t a comedy movie or show on TV.

Mickey came over with another plate of nachos for me, smiling gently.

“Your dad’s a good guy.” He said.

I turned and looked at him.
“What the hell are you on, man?”
“You can’t be talking about my dad.”
“My dad is certainly NOT a good person.”

Those responses were the first to pop into my head. Mickey clearly only knew the Charlie that walked into this bar.

“Yeah.” I said.

There was a pause as he slid the nachos towards me, when another man walked in and sat down next to me. To be fair, it was the only seat at the bar, and Charlie was occupied.

“Hey Earl.” Mickey said to the man.

“Mick.”  he responded, and flashed two fingers at Mickey.

“Double Whiskey sour, Mick.”

“You got it.”

Mickey turned, but saw that Earl turned to me and didn’t know what to make of me right away. I don’t know if he felt a certain way, but Earl was clearly interested.

“Who’s this?” He asked nobody in particular.

“That’s Franchesca. That’s Charlie’s daughter.” Mickey said, his eyes not really leaving our area.

Earl smiled and extended his hand to me.

“I’m Earl. I work for your dad sometimes.” He said, waiting for me  to shake his hand.

I certainly didn’t want to, but I did.

“Cool.” I said. Hoping for this conversation to end there, but it did not.

Earl spoke to me for nearly an hour. I tried not to pay attention to him, but he just kept talking. Even when Charlie came over to where we were, it was simply to get more beer. He saw no problem with this, and Mickey was… at least watching over me, and feeding me nachos without charging Charlie.

Finally, Charlie returned and slapped Earl playfully on the back and shared a couple laughs with him. It felt like forever, but we finally we’re going home. Charlie wasn’t drunk, but he for sure was feeling good. He drove us home and never really said anything about why we went there or why I had to go, but we did it and… that was that.

This became a regular thing for me, at 14 to take trips to the bar with Charlie and eat nachos while he drank. Soon enough, I was the hit of the bar, with Mickey always being very kind to me and said hello, and I slowly, with no other option, opened up socially. Little did I know, but I was being taught life lessons in the bar.

Charlie would socialize, and Earl would always find a way to talk to me, no matter what. But what I learned early on is that Earl was a long-distance truck driver. So really, Earl just wanted someone to listen to him talk. Someone to talk to him, because he was all alone, almost all the time. He needed companionship and for a couple of years there, I was it. Charlie only said a few things to Earl, and they were mostly work related. Earl talked to me about his drives, the long roads, his wife and their marital issues, his eating habits, everything he thought was interesting. And all I really had to do was act interested.

I slowly turned it into hustling Earl into giving me money every now and again. He bought me earrings. He bought me clothes. All for my attention, and occasionally a hug or some sweet talking to his bad flirting. It was a small price to pay. Earl never really tried to touch me, but he did rub my back a lot. Charlie didn’t seem to care, and he never really asked what I did at Mickey’s or question where the gifts came from. He was too shit-faced to really care anyway, as many times I would end up driving him home. Thankfully, Eddie had taught me to drive by then, but it wasn’t an issue.

Still the bonding we were doing was still strange to me.

One day when I happened to be walking by the living room. I was 13 years old and Charlie was sitting at the television watching wrestling. And all of a sudden, I was transfixed. Two grown men in clothes were beating the heck out of each other, slamming themselves through tables, barbed wire and the like. I believed that this was horrible. There was no reason to be doing this. It looked barbaric and disgusting. But I couldn’t stop watching it.

“What are you watching” I asked.

“Wrestling.” Charlie said, again matter-of-factly like I knew off hand what that was.

I watched more and more with Charlie. I was… I was bonding with him over wrestling. It was weird. Charlie would just sit and watch and occasionally laugh at a joke or a move that looked bad. He would cringe at bad landings and things that looked really painful. I was just… taken with all this stuff. I started to gain favorites and people I preferred to see.

My favorite for a long time was Jason Cashe.

Cashe was ruthless, but he was hilarious. He looked funny, he talked funny, but he would kick you in the face without a second thought and never backed down from a fight. I once saw him in a cage match with his girlfriend, on-air or not, and several other wrestlers and without hesitation, he smashed her face in with several elbows. He did them so brutally, and so quickly, that the referee stopped the match and Cashe retained a title. He would go to any lengths to keep it.

I saw Cashe lose a nipple in the ring. He bled, he would hurt himself and his opponent. He was crazy. He was cool.

Soon, I wasn’t just watching wrestling with Charlie. I was watching it on my own. I sought out wrestling from all over the country and across the world on the internet. I followed Cashe doing cool shit and got to see a whole host of new wrestling and different styles. I got to see so much, and a lot of it, I enjoyed.

I saw the women do it just as good, and just as brutally as the men.

And that’s when I saw Amber Ryan.

She was the coolest person on the planet in my eyes. Everything she did was cool. The way she walked, the way she talked, and all the things she did in the ring. I saw her spit thumbtacks out of her mouth, throw and spit fire, and spit poison mist. She was so cool. I was mesmerized by her. She was everything I wanted to be.

There were others, but they all seemed fake, phony and just playing a role. Especially the “good guys” I didn’t really have time for many of them, but every story needs a good guy and a bad guy. But the bad guys, the people who took what they wanted, did what they wanted and never sought remorse or redemption for their actions? They were the good guys to me.

And some of the “Good guys” turned out to be shitty people out of the ring. I respected that more than anything, but if you were shitty inside and out? That was amazing. Maybe it was because of how I saw the world, or how the world presented itself to me. Everyone was a let down, everyone will disappoint you and nobody really gives a shit at the end of the day, so why pretend to care?

And then I found them wrestling together on the same shows and still doing that same stuff, and they were friends as well! It was like the coolest thing in the world.

Jason Cashe and Amber Ryan became my heroes.

I didn’t have any before them. And now, I had people to watch and emulate. Maybe they weren’t the best choices, but you couldn’t convince me otherwise. And you still can’t. They, more than my own parents, raised.

That's why I called them mom and dad.

I certainly wasn’t getting anyone to look up to in my family.

But as I look back on it, I learned so much from Charlie, without him ever really explaining anything.

I suppose at the end of this, I owe him more than I realize. He is one of the reasons I am where I am today, and why I am who I am today. Without Charlie, who knows how I would have turned out. He did a lot for me. A lot more than I knew.

But then I remember he neglected me for basically half my life, Never told me he loved or cared for me, and pulled a gun on me that made me leave the only home and family I’ve ever known.

Yes, The chains of love are heavy.


This is now the time where we lay our cards on the table, Kayla.

If this was a high-stakes poker game, we’d both have gone all in and this would be a showdown.

But as I sit here and look at this whole situation, I am not holding strong cards at all. You are holding those big, powerful cards and I’m sitting here with an off-suit couple of cards that at a glance, look awful if we were still at the betting stage. Everyone would be calling me a fool for even betting with this hand.

There’s plenty you have that I simply do not. I won’t try and act like I have some kind of ace up my sleeve at this point in our journey. Our cards are on the table, there is no hiding what we both have, and don’t have.

I will concede several points to you right now, ones I am sure you will love to hear in fact. I have no problem admitting these things because in the long run, they don’t really matter that much to me. It’s not like I have any sort of argument that I somehow hold the power in this showdown. I will give you all the points you deserve.

Point one: You are a better wrestler than I am.

That much is plainly evident. You’ve won championships and held onto them for a long time. You can do amazingly spectacular things in the ring. You have been doing this longer than perhaps I’ve even been alive. You have trained and dedicated yourself to being the best of the best. The killer of killers. There might not be anyone in Sin City Wrestling, or more so the planet that is at your level of skill. You have me beat in every category when it comes to wrestling acumen. It’s just simply something I don’t have that much of, and you have it in spades.

You know the ins and out of the ring and I am not on that level, nor would I claim to be. You have me beat, Kayla. I concede this to you.

The only thing I wonder is just how much better you can become. Is this your peak? Is this the best Kayla Richards? Because I’ve heard you say time and again that you lose, and you learn from the loss. You train harder and come back stronger so that you can avenge those losses. It is your mantra, so to speak. Your code. You will always strive to get better.

But how much better can you really be? Because you’ve lost. A lot. There comes a point where it becomes redundant to think like this because you’re already at the top. You have the Bombshell’s title, and you have now convinced yourself that you are the best and have the title to prove it, so when you so clearly have this advantage over most people, it seems silly to use it as some kind of ace in the hole. I’m not trying to be a better wrestler than you, Kayla. I have no illusions that even beating you will give me any right to that kind of claim.

The point is, I don’t have to be a better wrestler than you.I don’t have to be “on your level.” You have convinced yourself that no one is on your level when it comes to that, so I don’t even need to go into that space. You can have it. What I am seeing is that you only know of one way to reassure yourself of it. After a loss, you train harder, you do more reps, lift more weights, and do twice as many drills. Get bigger, stronger and faster than before.

But what happens when it doesn’t matter? You already have this advantage over me. How much stronger do you need to be? How many more reps do you need to do? Is there a number, or a certain point that you reach that you can accurately gauge it? I mean, I beat you, despite this advantage, and you just want to make that advantage bigger when it didn’t help you in the first place?

Moreso, we are not having a track meet. You can run faster, jump higher and farther, anything you wish athletically. It means zero if you are on your back for 3 seconds and I am pinning your shoulders to the mat. Nothing. All that work, all that training? It’s useless. And you have convinced yourself that it means everything. You can be a better wrestler than me, but if I pin you, that is a moot point. All your training will be for nothing if my hand is raised at the end of the match. You can still retain that fictional title of “best in the world” all you like. If I have the win, and the physical title, you can have that one.

But still, you have me beat in skill.

Point two: You are more experienced than me.

There is no substitute for experience. You have a wealth of experience. You have more than likely forgotten more about this business than I will ever learn. I cannot compete with you in this space. Nor would I ever try to. I see all the videos and whatnot about youth vs. experience and all the time, the experience, knowing how to do things, but more importantly, when to do those things, always beats youth that thinks they have a better way to do it.

I have had 4 matches in SCW. You have had 4 in about 2 months. Probably more I don’t know about. You will always have the experience edge over me. No matter how long I wrestle at this point, as long as you are here, you will have that edge. There is nothing I can really do about that.

But, I would argue, I have gained a world of experience in those 4 matches, simply by both participating and watching. I watched Lilith and Melissa make the mistakes of youth, and I took advantage. I outsmarted and outmaneuvered Julianna, a former world champion. And I saw two “legends” give it their all, use everything they had learned with their literal decades of experience, and I still beat them both.

It’s why I am here. Where were you after 4 matches? Were you competing for a world title?

I have basically blitzed my way to the top and it worked without much problem. I am a very quick learner, and so, I am gaining on you when it comes to experience. Soon, I will have as much as you do now, even though you will always have more. But how much more experience do you really have, Kayla? Because once you learn how something works, it’s not like you gain any more new knowledge of that thing, object, whathaveyou.

For example, did you know that when you die, your body releases all the fluids you have in you? This is because your muscles no longer receive energy so they relax. It’s called primary flaccidity. See, now you know that, and that’s the end of that chapter of death.

The point is, I understand how this works, and it’s basically up to you at this point, Kayla. It’s up to you to figure me out. You have to reach into your bag of tricks. You have to pull out the oldest old school thing in order to try and keep that title around your waist. Everything I have done has worked so far. So now, it is your job to try and “solve the Frankie Holliday puzzle” as I talked about before. Though, I have already given you the answer.

The point is, I don’t have to try that with you. You have literally a decade’s worth of footage to study. Possibly more to see exactly how to break you down, what makes you tick, what drives you, motivates you and every little detail I can find. I have everything I need, while you, with all your experience, all your savvy and wit, you have to sit down and work off of four matches, one where we were partners and see if there’s anything that can help you.

I just have to continue to do what I’ve always done. Watch, study, adapt and overcome.

But, you still have that experience edge.

Good for you.

You cards… they don’t look as strong now, do they?

Are you still confident in those cards Kayla?

Because you’ve already pushed your title to the center.

The thing that defines you, hangs in the balance.

Yes. I said it, and you know it’s the truth. You are defined by titles. I never understood this logic, because titles can come and go. You have hold them for 10 hours, 10 days, 10 weeks, fuck it, 10 years. And at the end of the day, you eventually lose it. Do we all get prizes at the end? Is this like Pokemon where you have to catch ‘em all? For you, the title currently in your possession is your entire world. It justifies your entire existence in wrestling. And without it, you’re just another wrestler. Just the run-of-the-mill wrestler. Tights, boots, cool-girl kick pads. Probably got some dragon or flame design too to be extra generic.

Without a title, you know you are irrelevant.

Nothing about you stands out. A title around your waist gives you the confidence and power you so desperately seek. A title around your waist gives your entire wrestling career meaning. You feel invincible with it. It lets you act like you are in control of things.

But do you feel like you’re in control?

Sure. Sure you do. You’re not concerned, right? You’re on social media “thotting” and all that, so clearly you aren’t really concerned about me. You’re concerned about people who don’t even work here. So clearly, you don’t sweat me, right?

And that’s cool. You should continue to do that. Don’t worry about me. What can I do? You’ll figure everything out. You just keep doing you.

I just find it kind of strange that a supposed sociopath who is only out for herself, is now entertaining people, laughing and joking and socializing. Things that a sociopath sort of struggles with. You’ve done it quite well. If I were to actually label you, I’d just say you’re a narcissist. But hey, that’s my science nerd coming out. I’m just trying to help you.

Oh, I’m sorry no, no. Again, you are in control of the situation. I just told you you have those super strong cards for this all-in bet. Skill and experience. That’s all you. I gave you all the power because of that title around your waist. The only thing that matters to you, right? You will use these things. You have to. You must!  You are the force of nature. You are the champion. You are the best wrestler! This is what you do! You have everything you need!

And it will mean fuck all when I rip the Bombshell’s championship from hands.

I would say I’m sorry that I have to take the one thing you truly love from you.

But, as they say, the chains of love are heavy.

…

Someday,  you will look back on this, this moment in time. And realize it was the best thing to ever happen to you.
And you’ll thank me for it.

Trust me.

[Dreamkiller]

Chapter 68: Trauma II

Thinking about my relationship with Matt brought back a whole bunch of memories that I really wish I could’ve left buried and forgotten. Bringing them back up and reliving the horror that I went through was never going to be something easy or something that I would have ever strived to do. But despite those memories, it did remind me of a few things – it reminded me of where I’ve come from and what I’ve been through.

Matt was the exact opposite of other relationships that I’ve been in. He was domineering and tried to control me. And due to my own hubris, I thought I could change him and flip the tables. The relationship with him was like a power struggle with the two of us fighting back-and-forth to gain dominance in the relationship. I failed, and as such, got drawn into a situation where I almost lost myself until I was able to see it for myself.

However, the other major relationship that I’ve had in my life was with someone completely different. Completely different from Matt and also completely different from Finn. His name was Billy Danielson. Many of you probably see how hard I am on Aiden Reynolds, and a large part of that is because he is like the team version of Billy Danielson, who I ended up dating after Matt Shields. There were some similarities there. Billy was also controlling, but in a completely different way. Matt tried to control me through animalistic masculine dominance.

Billy tried to control me through gaslighting and emotional manipulation

He pushed everything in the relationship. In the beginning, I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I didn’t want anyone. I was getting over the horrors that had come about while I was with Matt and didn’t want to be trapped in something. But Billy came into my life and wouldn’t leave me alone. He was charming and funny, but every single time I tried to pull away, he would make me feel guilty. He would use certain phrases and say certain things that would make me feel sorry for him. Emotional manipulation at its finest.

”Come on. You love me, right?”

My breath caught in my throat and I remember feeling a certain type of anger and emotion wash over me. Anger might not have been the best word, frustration would be more apt and appropriate. I knew what Billy was doing. But at the time I wasn’t ready to tell him what I felt. ”Getting married will be great for us.”  I closed my eyes and shook my head, feeling him grab my hand and slide the ring onto my finger.

At that point, I didn’t feel like I could say no. I didn’t want to be engaged to him, I didn’t want to marry him. I could not see spending the rest of my life with a man like him. He was a dumb jock. But he was also like a puppy dog, following me around like I was a goddess. You think being worshipped would be right up my alley, but you’d be wrong.

I needed someone who treated me like an equal and is my equal. Matt treated me like he was dominant to me. Billy treated me like I was above him and a goddess was to be worshipped, while still trying to keep me under his thumb.

”I don’t know Billy. Maybe this is too fast. But I–”

”Look at the ring. It was my grandmother‘s. She told me that when I found a woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, I should ask that woman to marry me and use that ring. You’re that woman, Kayla. You don’t want me to let my family down do you?”

I swallowed, he knew exactly how to get me where it hurts. The thing is my family liked him. My younger sister thought he was funny and caring and much better than Matt. And in some ways, he was. But in other ways he was worse. He was more manipulative, knew how to gaslight me and knew how to use my emotions against me. ”The ring is beautiful…”

I didn’t say yes. But I also didn’t say no. So Billy took it upon himself to answer for me. Bouncing up and down happily he took me by the hand and pulled me into a hug. ”I’ll tell everyone we can start planning” I wanted to pull away. I wanted to say no. But something stopped me. At the time I thought he was my last shot of happiness. My last shot of being in a relationship. And I let myself fall into his little trap.

Present Day

I could hear him in the next room. Finn was on the phone. Pacing back-and-forth with his arm still caught tight in a brace, in his other hand with his cell phone. The phone was held up to his ear, but I knew he was talking to his brother. Dickie Watson. The tag team partner of Aiden Reynolds, and bedroom partner of Amelia Reynolds. Finn chatted for a while, stepping out of the room for a moment and moving over to the kitchen. He put his phone on the kitchen bench, put on the speaker device, opened the fridge door with his free arm and grabbed a drink out before cracking it open.

“--so I guess…Yoshiro thinks there’s someone that could do the whole business front for us but…I wanted to wait until I heard from you.”

Finn didn’t reply at first. He took a sip, put the can down and then picked his phone back up and put it back to his ear. He gave a dry response. Annoyed, but not completely. But still the same brother-like tone he’d always given Dickie. After a few minutes of listening to them yap back-and-forth, he finally hung up. He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow as I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. ”What?”

Finn stepped forward and I folded my arms over my chest. One leg was crossed over the other as I closed off my body language. I rolled my eyes again and let out a tck noise from my lips, my tongue clicking disapprovingly on my cheek. ”Your brother is an idiot.”

”I know.”

I growled and turned toward Finn as he sat down across from me. ”Do you though?”

He stayed silent simply giving me the room to express myself. Waiting patiently. It is one of the things that I love about him – he will let me say my piece instead of trying to interrupt me right there and then.

”He got himself into this mess but now he’s calling you every five seconds for advice.”

”Better to ask me for advice than him trying to do it himself. Just think about that for a second. You are advocating for me to leave Dickie to his own devices….. in this situation.”

My brow furrowed and I let out a small grunt of acknowledgement. Kept my arms crossed. Chin held high. He had a point. And that pissed me off even more. ”I just don’t like that he’s pulling you into this situation. We have enough to worry about. We did everything we could to get away from my crazy ex and his bullshit, and then you’ve got Dickie in those crazy Yakuza arseholes who you used to deal with, I just don’t want anything to happen to you, okay?”

Finn smiled. I hated it when he did that. He had this boy’s charm to everything he did but when he smiled, it put me at ease. Even in a situation where I shouldn’t be. His smile would always end up melting any anxiety that I had. ”Nothing will happen to me, Kay. Besides, we’re professional wrestlers. There’s plenty of other things that can end up hurting me.” He motioned toward his shoulder.

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath trying to calm myself down.

Before I’d say something that I’d regret.

”Yeah, not helping, Finnegan.” I said his full chosen name like it was an insult. Because it slightly was, but just enough. “I just don’t want to lose you. Especially if we ever…” I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t want him to know what was on my mind. He was staring at me, wanting me to continue what I was about to say.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him that I was scared to death that he would leave me and a child that hadn’t even been conceived yet. Or talked about. Or planned. I felt my anxiety building and I needed to get out of there.

”Look, do whatever you want. I’ll be back later. I’m going for a walk.”

He didn’t argue with me. Just giving me a small nod as I turned and moved towards the door grabbing my coat. I left and moved out onto the street. My mind was racing. One million thoughts a minute turning and twisting. Making my heart race and my body shake. Ihated feeling like this. Hated the thought that I could.

But then something caught my eye. I slowed down and looked just over my shoulder. I was being followed. I turned and the person was gone. They were back, I didn’t have to ask. The Romani. They were just content with adding to the pile of bullshit that I was dealing with.

”Fuck…”


Blast from the Past

”Well. Here we go. Another supercard on the horizon then another championship defence sitting right in front of me, ready to go. And it’s me with all the momentum going into it. Does it ever get tiring for any of you? Waiting for my downfall and constantly talking like my next loss is going to be the end of me only for me to bounce back and come back better than ever? It has to be tiring. It has to be boring.”

She takes a deep breath, sitting back as a suitcase suits to her left. Packed and ready to go on the cruise for Summer XXXtreme.

”Much like listening to a Mercedes Vargas promo. I bet there were some people who really thought she had a chance of beating me. Some members of the bombshell‘s division and fans who thought that her recent resurgence was going to lead her to beating little ol’ me. Despite the fact that every single time I faced Vargas, I destroyed her. And she is not like me. She cannot come back from loss after loss and come back stronger. I lose. I come back. I dominate. Rinse and repeat. And I’m not saying this to just glorify myself, although that is a large part of it. I’m saying this to get it through all of your thick skulls that while I’m not unbeatable, I am one of the best professional wrestlers on this planet and I deserve to be looked at as such.”

“When I sit here and talk about my accomplishments and throw them all in your face, I’m doing so because I know it pisses you off. I start down that path and I start telling you all about what I’ve done and I can hear the eyes rolling and the exasperated noises you all make.”

“You get pissed off about it. And why wouldn’t you? Why wouldn’t any of you get angry about the things that I say and the things that I do. Do you know the only thing more annoying than a delusional piece of shit? Who doesn’t know what they’re talking about?”

“Someone who is right and tells the truth and you don’t agree with them”

“I could be like the Crystals and the Mercedes of the world. But I’d have to fail to be like them. Women like Jesse Salco and Crystal and Mercedes and all the others that I’ve mentioned in the past are so infuriating in their delusions. They constantly lose and tell people that they are the best and will still overcome everything. They live in this little palace of delusion and when that bubble bursts and they are shown reality, they still refuse to accept it. But that’s not who I am. That’s not what I’m about.”

Kayla can’t help but chuckle. She turns and looks at the Bombshell Championship before taking it in her hand, undoing her suitcase and putting it inside. The suitcase snaps as she closes it up. She lays her hand flat on top of the suitcase before taking a deep breath and getting to her feet.

”I tell the truth and it’s something that so many can’t handle. No wonder if that is something you can accept, Frankie. See, things I’m gonna say about you are just simply from my perspective. I’m not gonna be like everyone else and try to come up with a reason why you are going to fail. Instead, I’m gonna come up with reasons why I’m going to succeed. You might disagree with them, because that’s what I expect you to do.”

“But before I get too far into this, I need you to understand something. The reason why I’m feared, the reason why people look at me and refuse to get in the ring with me, is because of the simple fact that I will embarrass them. And when it comes to this, the big matches, the big spotlight…Baby Girl, I shine brighter than anyone else ever has.”

“I have been a bright shining star since I stepped foot in this place. But I was the bright shining star that this company never wanted. I signed my contract, there were some hardcore Sin City fans who knew who I was. They know who my sister is.They know who my younger sister is. they know the companies that I’ve been in. But management didn't care. I signed my contract, I had a match, then nothing. I sat in fucking catering for months. Months. Until I made myself undeniable. I stomped my feet, I clapped my hands, I yelled and I screamed and I did everything I could to get their attention. And then…then they finally started to book me.”

“My first real shot at glory was for the Roulette Championship. Funnily enough, at a Summer XXXtreme.”

“Three years ago. I was in an Ultimate X Over the Pool match. My first title shot was ridiculous, Frankie. The first chance at glory. And I failed. I failed in that incredible clusterfuck of a match. And even though part of me didn’t want the Roulette Championship, there was also part of me that was completely and utterly devastated that I lost.”

“I have this thing inside of me. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s a need, not a want, a need. I need to win. I need to be the best. I need people to know that I am the best. It is a sickness. It is a disease and I have it and I cannot get rid of it. So when I lost at that event? When I lost that match in 2022, it broke me…”

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment as she was transported to that moment in time in her head. Kayla shook her head before continuing.

”Unexpected, right? I spend so much time talking about my Internet Championship pursuits and the Mixed Tag Team Championships and the SCW Bombshells World Championship. People tend to forget that my first title shot in this company was for the Roulette Championship and I lost. I have never won it. But since that moment three years ago, I have spent almost that entire time as a champion of some sort. In three years, I have been damn near unstoppable. But, I’m not unbeatable. I know that. I’m admitting it to you and everyone else, Frankie. It takes a special kind of woman to beat me. Only a handful have done it. Only one person has been able to beat me and then get away with not being a victim of my revenge.”

“That’s because she left the company promptly and never came back.”

“So, you might be one of the rare exceptions that is able to beat me, but are you the even rare exception that can beat me and then get out of it unscathed? I can’t figure you out, Frankie, and that’s what makes you dangerous. You came in and you won the Blast From the Past. You’ve been undefeated since you stepped foot in this company, and while you haven’t faced someone like me, you have still been able to dispatch everyone who has been put in front of you and that deserves respect. Part of me does respect you. Winning the Blast From the Past is not an easy thing to do. It is not something that just anyone can walk through and survive.”

“And you beat two veterans to do it. I get it, you are probably on cloud nine knowing that you were able to beat two of the biggest stars that the professional wrestling world has ever seen, including one woman who is a legend of this company. But they’re still not me.”

“You could be something very special. Many people think you already are. Part of me agrees with them. And for you to be the star that you seem to want to be, to complete this burst onto the scene with fire and flair, all that you need to do now is finish your little story and beat me. Everything that you have worked for, everything that you want and you need is right here, Frankie. And to get it all, you have to do is go out to that ring and end me…”

She closes her eyes and takes a sharp inhale before continuing

”I’m not ready for that to happen. I’m not ready to step aside and let you become the new shining star that everyone seems to think you’re going to be. One of the reasons is simply because of who you are. See the key differences between you and I are that I tell the truth, whether people wanna hear it or not. I’m honest to a fault and people hate that. But you? You droop with an sincerity in everything that you say. Before our tag team match, you sat there and told us all to trust you. Despite the fact that you tried to sound so manipulating and so clever when you really aren’t.”

“See, I told you and I told the world that I would have your back during that match. From bell-to-bell, I was ready to stand by you because I knew that we both wanted to get the win. And you couldn’t leave it that way, could you? You had to turn around and say that you wouldn’t do that because it would be too easy. Dripping with sincerity and sweetness. You were trying to appear as if you had principles in standing beside me, but at the same time you were trying to manipulate me into doing something I’d regret.”

“It didn’t work.”

“You are a sarcastic, smug little bitch who likes to project herself as confident. But I see right through you. Your constant contradictions show a true lack of conviction to anything. The only thing you believe in is your desire to get what you think you’re owed. But the problem is that you have a fear of irrelevance. I see it, because I have it too. I told you before that I need people to see that I’m the best. But I’m not afraid to admit to myself that I’m scared of being irrelevant. But you? You can’t admit it. You can’t admit it because you’re not secure enough in yourself to believe in yourself, so instead you have to be this smug piece of shit who drips with lies and sincerity.”

“As I said, all I do is tell the truth. I’m telling you the truth when I say that I’m going to walk down to that ring and do everything I can to cave your skull. I will take every shortcut, I will bend every rule…and I’ll do it with a big shit eating smile on my face because I refuse to allow you to take away my fucking legacy. I refuse to let you stop me from beating the records that are set in front of me. No matter how smug you are, no matter how great you think you are and no matter how many times you try to get onto my skin at the end of the day. Frankie, I’m just looking at doing to you what you wish you could do to everyone else. I’m going to prove to you that your greatest fear is your greatest criticism. And I’m going to make you irrelevant.”

“See you on the cruise.”

[Dreamkiller]

Chapter 69: How it started vs how it’s going

I had known him for a while. Finn Whelan. He and I had become friends. Not best friends, and we weren’t super close, but we knew each other. It was something that my boyfriend at the time, Billy Danielson, hated. He was insecure. And because of that, he would gaslight me if I had a male friend. It was something I hated. Eventually, we came to a breaking point. Billy and I broke up.

And no sooner had I been lamenting the fact I had another failed relationship than I got a phone call.

It was Finn.

He called to make sure I was alright. And in the same breath, he asked if I wanted to come out for a couple of drinks to drown my sorrows. We were both in New York. And I figured, why not? So there I was, after I’d spent the entire day trying to find things to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t think about the fact I had failed yet again at trying to make a man happy enough that he wouldn’t turn into a complete dick, now scrambling around wondering what I should wear.

After all, I had no idea what exactly this was. At least at the time.

I wondered if I should just go out in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, a pair of Converse and maybe a leather jacket. Or maybe a nice little black dress,tight, hugging my curves, something that would make my body look irresistible. But then again, all this was going to be was drinks between two friends, right? Or could it have been something more? Was Billy right in being worried?

I remember standing in front of my mirror, making the decision that I was going to doll myself up. Not so much for Finn, but for myself, to feel more like me. I slid on the little black dress, the bottom part cut so high on my thighs I had to be careful if I sat down or bent over. The top had a plunging neckline that made the twins pop. I took a deep breath as I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I looked great.

I did my hair, did my makeup, and stood in front of the mirror again to make sure everything looked perfect. And on the outside, at least in my eyes, it did. But I also knew, deep down, that I was far from it. I felt like a failure. Even though I was trying to maintain an aura of confidence with what I was wearing and my attitude, I also felt deep down that this was going to be nothing. Finn and I were only ever going to be friends. And that’s honestly what I thought when I left my apartment that day to go have drinks with him.

”I both love and hate this event.”

I folded my arms over my chest. Walking around the deck of the cruise ship was always an interesting experience whenever we had Summer XXXTreme. Every year, we’d get a free holiday on a cruise ship, but we had to share it with not only all the idiots we worked with but also all of the fans. It was designed to give fans of the company access to its stars and allow them to spend time with us, ask questions, create a sense of community. It was a way for the company, and the stars, to say thank you for all the support these people gave us. But at the same time…

I hated spending time with them.

Finn walked next to me, his arm now out of the sling, wearing only a supportive brace under his shirt and jacket. He still wasn’t in the clear and was nowhere near ready to come back, but it was an encouraging sign. And I have to admit, the fact he was now able to wrap his arms around me made me feel a lot better too. ”I barely like turning up to an arena and dealing with the people we work with. Being trapped on a cruise ship with them for over a week isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

Finn chuckled. I knew what amused him when I went on these rants. He usually felt very similarly to me, but he wouldn’t vocalize it. He would internalize his annoyance at having to deal with people he hated and carry a silent rage behind his eyes. My discontentment was a lot more visceral. ”Try to look on the good side. We get to bring a whole bunch of our friends who aren’t even in the company. Because Amelia is here, Dickie is here. And because Aiden is here, Dax and Kallie are here…” I groaned and rolled my eyes.

”I could do without the Australian. The male Australian. Amelia is alright, I guess. And your brother… Well, the less said about him right now, the better.” We continued walking across the deck and inside the large shopping mall onboard. I could smell food being cooked by the various vendors and saw, out of the corner of my eye, perfume and jewelry shops. The wonders of being able to buy things duty-free on the open ocean.

”Honestly? It’s been good for Dickie to get away from it all. He needed to come out and just be himself, away from all the expectations being put on him.”

”And the expectations he’s putting on you to help him.”

My words came with a level of venom I don’t think Finn was ready for. We kept walking side by side, and after a few tense moments of silence, I felt it, his hand slid down and interlocked with mine, our fingers twisting together. I smiled slowly and shook my head. He turned and stood in front of me, leaning down to give me a small kiss. I took a deep breath, and when my eyes opened, I narrowed them because I knew exactly what he was doing. ”That’s a dirty trick, and you know it.”

He shrugged as we continued walking. I tried to calm myself down, but I was still angry. And of course, Finn picked up on it.

”He… you know he’s the only family I really have left. We don’t see my parents much. I’ve lost other people. If having his back is going to make sure he’s safe, then that’s what I have to do, Kayla.”

I took a deep breath. I felt my eye twitch. I knew he was right, but I also needed to let him know how I felt about the whole situation. ”I get that. I do. But you need to understand my point of view. You’re trying to make sure nothing happens to him. But I’m worried something’s going to happen to you. And look, I like Dickie....but I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you, and I don’t want you dragged back into this fucking life.” We turned the corner, heading down one of the boulevards inside the ship toward a few more shops. I growled and continued. ”I just worry. And I also hate the fact that after you got out of it, your brother dove headfirst back in and then dragged you along. What kind of sibling who supposedly cares about you does that? If I got out of something and my sister went back into it and then tried to pull me in, I’d be pissed off.”

I didn’t even realize where we were going. We had taken a right turn into the EFFY shop onboard. I was surrounded by jewelry, but I wasn’t expecting what was about to happen.

”Pick a ring…”

”What do you mean, pick a ring? From where? From what part?”

Finn smiled and shook his head, hovering his hand over the large glass case containing engagement rings. He lightly placed his hand on the case and tilted his head.

”From these ones.”

My heart skipped a beat. Everything I wanted to say and had been ranting about vanished. My hands shook slightly as I looked down at the case, lit by bright white lights making the diamonds sparkle. I bit my bottom lip and tilted my head before settling on a ring in the dead center. I pointed at it and looked up at Finn, saying only two words.

”That one…”

My voice was barely a whisper. Finn gave a small nod and walked over to one of the attendants. He started talking to her before pulling out his Visa card, smiling and joking with them. I stood there in the middle of the shop, locked in shock. My heart beat so fast it felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. But I couldn’t help but smile. My cheeks flushed red as I saw the ring taken out of the case. The rest of it was a blur. But all I could think was, all those years ago, when he invited me out for a drink to lament a failed relationship… how wrong I was about what this was going to be.

Happy surprises and all that…

Expectation vs Reality

”I’m not mad, just disappointed…”

Kayla sighs, leaning back against the bar in her cabin aboard the cruise ship. Her long hair flows down her shoulders, her body covered in loose-fitting, holiday-style clothes as she looks relaxed.

”You know, I remember hearing that phrase from my parents when I was younger. Coming from my father, it was always taken with a grain of salt, considering he was an abusive piece of shit who didn’t know how to treat his wife or his children. But it was a lot more cutting coming from my mother. Disappointing her was something I never wanted to do. And if I heard that phrase, I knew I was in trouble. The thing is, in this context, I don’t expect you to give a shit, Frankie. Your arrogance has been shining through for the better part of two months since you stepped foot in this company, and we’ve all had to deal with your arrogant, self-righteous attitude.”

“Before I get into the hows and whys, I need you to understand something. See, I’ve been painted as a horrible person. Most people look at me and see someone who only cares about herself and is out for number one. And part of that is certainly true, I care about myself above all others. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about anyone. I care about my friends. I care about my family. I care about the people I’ve known for years who’ve always had my back. But I’m one of the only people in the world who will freely admit that, when it comes down to it, I hold myself above all others…”

“And that doesn’t make me a horrible person. It makes me a realist.”

“Everyone else is so quick to lie. They’re so quick to tell everybody that they’d do anything for their loved ones and their friends. That they put others above themselves. And while I’ll always have my friends’ and family’s backs, and I’ll always tell them how I feel, I’m not someone who needs to put that out there every five seconds. I’m out for myself. And in this business, that just leads to success. It’s something I see in you, Frankie. But while I freely admit it and see it as a strength, you seem to believe it’s a weakness. Like my arrogance is some kind of exploit to be attacked.”

“Oh, sweet summer child…”

She chuckles and shakes her head.

“Your inexperience is showing. And yes, I said inexperience. Something you seem to think doesn’t matter. I know what you’re doing. You sit there trying to tell me about my own strengths, then say they’re meaningless. You’re trying to play both sides of the same argument. It’s something so many others have done, and they’ve done it way better than you. You come off disingenuous. It’s really weird how you admit you’re not on my level, then talk down to me like you know what I’ve done and what it’s like to be me.”

“Like your heavy lifting comments. Bitch, what would you know about heavy lifting? You run me down like I haven’t been doing it for the last three years in this company. Heavy lifting is being a champion. Heavy lifting is knowing the entire division is coming after you and there’s nothing you can do about it except fight them off. Heavy lifting is being on top of the mountain and making sure no one can push you off. You’ve never been to the top of the mountain, you don’t know what it’s like. And for you to act like you do? It’s pathetic.”

“That tag match we had was a test. Our opponents were never going to beat us. The end result was about how you were going to frame it.”

“You keep acting like you were doing everything in that match despite the fact that if you go back and watch it, we were both clearly doing everything. It was 50/50. And that’s me being nice to you. But here’s the problem with you. You’re trying to shit on my entire career by saying that if you beat me, it means nothing. My career is bigger than this company. My career is bigger than what I’ve done here. And you think if I lose to you, it’ll invalidate everything? How big of a star do you believe yourself to be?”

She throws her arms in the air and keeps pacing back and forth.

“Or is it because you’re not a star? Is that what it is? You believe that because you’re not the biggest star in the world, and you’ve gotten to this point with your streak and your tournament win, that beating me will somehow make you? That it’ll destroy my legacy? That’s not just disrespectful to me and this title—it’s disrespectful to professional wrestling itself. That’s rookie logic, and it shows where your head’s at. Amber Ryan should’ve taught you better. But then again, considering she’s an egomaniacal moron who left this company when she thought she had nothing else to accomplish… the apple doesn’t fall far from the conceited prick tree.”

“Just like how you think the World Bombshells Championship defines me in this company. You really think I’m only relevant because this championship is around my waist? The title has never made the person. The person makes the title. Look at everyone who’s held it—and tell me the names that stand out.”

“Crystal Hilton. Mercedes Vargas. Seleana Zdunich…”

“Those names mean nothing. And they all held this championship. The title is never what defines you. And that’s something you need to learn, because you’re obsessed with it. You’re obsessed with this title because deep down, you know winning it is the only way you’ll ever matter in this business. But what defines Frankie? You brag about your win streak, five and oh. You think that means something? Look at my record. 44 wins out of 51 matches. Kid, that’s a record to be proud of. Not 5–0.”

“Your undefeated streak is impressive—but it’s not what defines your future. Being undefeated is a pipe dream. No one is unbeatable. I’ve proven that. Even your mentor Amber Ryan should know that. I see your little interactions with her on X. She might’ve been a great champion, and you might want to follow in her footsteps—but the path to relevance isn’t paved with kissing someone’s ass and hoping for the best.”

Kayla shakes her head and looks over at the SCW World Bombshells Championship sitting to her left.

“Oh wait, there I go being a narcissist and a sociopath. It’s funny, you Googled some personality traits and thought you could psychoanalyze me like that was going to work. I’m not some diagnosis you can throw out there. I’m the champion you’re going to fail to beat. But you? It’s funny people try to pigeonhole me as this narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself, while you sit there and tell people they’ll thank you later, like you’ve got a savior complex. Like you’re some wrestling messiah being held above everyone else. The second coming of your fucking mentor.”

“The saddest part, Frankie, is that you are talented. You could be a great champion in the future. You could be the future of this division. But not now. You’re not ready. And everything you said last week proves that. You think your little win streak means you’ve earned this. That you beating me erases everything I’ve done. That this championship will make you matter. But it’s the other way around.”

“So let me ask you something—what happens if you win?”

“Being a real champion means facing adversity. I have. I’ve been beaten and come back stronger than ever. But you’ve never had to feel that. You think it’s a positive that you’ve never lost in this company? That you get to wave your undefeated record around like it means something? You know what really means something, Frankie? Coming back. Getting beaten. Losing everything. Picking yourself up and fighting to get it all back. That’s what matters.”

“You’ve never felt that before. So I’m going to give you that gift, Frankie. I’m going to give you the gift of defeat. So you’ll know what it’s like. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll come back better. Ready to actually be a champion.”

“I’m giving that to you out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Thank me later, bitch…”

[Frankie Holliday]

Good Evening, Sin City Wrestling.

My target is Bombshell’s Champion Kayla Richards. world renowned wrestler and world class athlete.

She sees herself as the best wrestler in the world and has shown disdain for anyone who has sought to be better or believes they already are. Which has earned the ire of many in the wrestling community.

Having earned my chance to defeat her, I now have the perfect change to engage and make the wrestling community very happy and set her back for some time. We are aboard the Sun Princess cruise, so this elimination will have to take place on the open ocean.

A perfect place to remove a captain as head of the ship, wouldn’t you agree?

The clock is ticking.

I will leave you, to prepare.

Day 1.

I arrived on time. No thanks to the horror show that is LAX. Crazy… I never thought I would be back here. So many people that helped me along the way, but I wasn’t really in the position for visits. The port of Los Angeles has a cruise center and I took an uber to get here. I packed all the essentials and they were placed in my cabin before the ship ever took off aside from what I brought in my backpack. I had never been on a cruise before but, there was a first time for everything, right? Before the boat took off, there was a celebratory shot for a safe voyage. Some kind of tradition. I did not partake in this shot, though many of my co-workers did. The majority of fans also did the shot, though most of them were already pretty buzzed without it. So many drunk, overweight fans who paid thousands of dollars to go on a cruise and watch a wrestling show.

Wrestling fans are strange.

It felt like it took hours for this cruise to start. Leaving the dock and people just waved. Like, don’t wave at me. You don’t know me. You know me from TV. After doing my usual and checking the room for hidden cameras (you can’t be too careful these days) I spent the first couple of hours just staring out at the open ocean, watching as Los Angeles faded over the horizon. There was so much noise, people walking, chatting loudly, drinking and carrying on like idiots. I decided I did not like this cruise, and perhaps I should spend every moment I could just in my cabin, watching Kayla Richards matches to ensure my mental preparedness was at its peak.

But, where would the fun in that be? I can have fun. I can enjoy myself on this cruise. I don’t need to be a debbie downer. No, there was always something going on, and seeing or hearing about it made sense.

I left my room and began wandering. A few fans walked past me, not bothering to ask for an autograph or picture, considering there’s a whole day for that shit. But very few people wanted to bother me, which was nice for me. I didn’t want to engage with them, so I simply walked out into the open areas of the cruise.

It was time for reconnaissance.

One of the easiest ways to learn things, especially when people are drunk, is to just be in the area. Just… blend in.

I brought a copy of “Play It As It Lays” and put my sunglasses on, pretending to read and sunbathe while watching everyone walk by. People walked by and some stopped to see if I was really me, and then a subtle wave as no one wants to be disturbed while reading. But there were plenty of conversations. One where a dude and this girl were talking, complete strangers brought together by this cruise. The conversation was light, but just studying him for a second gave me all I needed. Sweaty, stuttering and trying way too hard to be funny. The girl was kind enough to give him the time of day and they went on about people they knew. The girl’s dad, uncle and brother were all cops. The guy said he was a security guard back at home. The girl’s friend came to get her about getting another drink. The guy said she looked like she could be an actress, certainly shooting his shot. Then he said his friend was a stunt man and said he didn’t like the job because “Once you’ve fallen down a flight of stairs once, you’ve fallen down them all.”

The joke fell flat. It wasn’t good. The girl left shortly thereafter and the guy cursed at himself under his breath. I doubt he’ll be getting lucky on this cruise.

There was a conversation about who had a better body between Brooke and Marissa Shields, which struck me as odd considering they’re basically the same person, but whatever. On the flip side there was a better ass debate between Carter and Miles Casey, also between two guys, so… also whatever. There were more debates and small talk, this party was extremely unlively.

Dinner went by without too much issue. There were question and answer sessions with various wrestlers, none that were interesting to hear. Then music and dancing, and when a bunch of uncoordinated white people get together and try and dance, it’s a fucking mess. There was also karaoke and I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing Bobbie and Artie attempt to sing a duet. Fucking Christ.

Strangely, I don’t think I saw Kayla anywhere. I will have to look for her now.

I swung by her cabin and just attempted to open the door, knowing it was locked. I moved out of view and watched as the door never opened. Perhaps Kayla was out. Oh well, I must have missed her.

Interesting.

Day 2

More of the same. I got a tour of the boat and all the inner workings on how a cruise ship functions. I asked several questions about the lifeboats and what our survival odds were on the open ocean, which were met with stares of confusion and perhaps suspicion. I assured them I wasn’t going to sabotage the liner, since I had a title to win, but they appeared wary of me from that point on.

But then, I struck gold. There she was.

Kayla was walking around the open area. I spotted her casually strolling. I began to follow her. I wanted to see if she would actually look behind herself at any point, but she did not. I just walked with her, staying a good distance behind her, just to observe. I didn’t want any trouble just yet. If she caught me, then I’d just walk past her like I didn’t see her. But I was watching. The thrill of this little cat and mouse game was exciting. I watched her get her lunch. I saw what she ate. I watched how she ate. All from a comfortable distance away. She laughed and joked with the people she was with. She looked like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Good. Just the way I want her to be.

She followed her routine. Many of my co-workers had open workouts throughout the day. She did hers that day. I would do one later, but I wanted to see how she trained. She trained hard, hair matted with sweat as she pushed harder and faster than most anyone. There were no days off for Kayla when it came to training.

Even better.

Mercedes Vargas had a Q&A that night. She told old road stories about things from over a decade ago and went through a list of facts and figures that sounded impressive, but longevity has a way of skewing your perception of times and dates. She boasted about her various title wins and it was just a chore to sit though if you weren’t a history buff, but only a history buff about Mercedes Vargas. She ended it by claiming she was still going strong and the best was yet to come, and holy fuck this woman needs to shut up.

I ventured out later, a deck above and low and behold, there she was again. Kayla was eating again. I felt like a hitman or something just observing my target. Soon enough, the time to be right, to strike.

Day 3.

Autograph and signing day. I found myself on the end of a long row with Harper Mason nearest me and kiddie-cornered with Guy with a cape. I was more interested in watching how animated he was. The way he just sounded out his signature.

“Guy. With. Cape.”
“Guy. With. Cape.”
“Guy. With. Cape.”

Over and over. It became stuck in my head after a while.  He made faces at people, and did small things like looking in a different direction when posing for photos. He certainly was a character. 

Harper was in my other ear, telling everyone who would listen about her views on various things and even striking up conversations with fans about music or movies or whatever else. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying the experience.

My line was pretty short, but that was to be expected. I signed about 100 autographs each with “next world champ” above my name. I happened to have my D.A.R.E t-shirt (which stood for Drugs Are Really Excellent) which may have rubbed a few parents the wrong way, but I found it funny. Only the people who loved the irony wanted a picture. I would always stand there and stare into the camera straight faced and unblinking as best I could. Some dude actually wanted me to step on him, because wrestling fans are also weirdos. I did not do any special requests like that. Even though there were complaints.

Maybe don’t be a weirdo. Just saying.

I very much enjoyed dinner alone, yet again. It’s almost like my co-workers don’t want to get to know me or anything. I got to see a bunch of them, laughing and joking, enjoying their dinners. I took note of who ate what, but nothing seemed shocking. But I would file that information away for later use. Perhaps it wouldn’t be necessary, but you can never be too careful.

There was a late night pool party. I watched from the deck above and that’s when I began to realize just how much the division needed me. These people needed me. They all wanted to do the same thing every time, And yet, they all wanted to act like they deserve a title match or reward simply for existing.

Now don’t get me wrong. I am a cheerleader for foolishness of course. I like it when things aren’t on a schedule or anything like that. I came here to bring a little chaos. I walked right through this company in record time and it was because everyone was so uncoordinated. But that’s become the norm. Everyone is just happy to be here. Everyone is enjoying themselves.

I understood now that this was the reason Kayla was even successful in the first place. She succeeded because no one was focused. Everyone accepts their spot and they just sit there. They look up, they see the new champion, they shrug and they move on, and then occasionally, someone will complain about not getting an opportunity, instead of taking it.

Look at them. Look how they are content.

I have so much work to do.

Day 4.

I worked out. It was early and most fans were not in attendance. It was almost 5am when I started. There were a few night owls who watched me do some in-ring drills, the usual tackle drop-down leapfrog hiptoss generic nonsense that everyone else did. I was never going to be as strong or as physically imposing as Diamond Caldwell. I was never going to be as fast as Kate Steele is. I just needed to be good enough. And so far, I was.

I wasn’t stupidly thinking I was going to go in there with Kayla and not take my lumps. Kayla was going to kick my ass. She was going to test me, she was going to wear me out.

I just wasn’t afraid of it.

That’s the difference. I’ve weathered storms my whole life. This wasn’t going to be much different. The only change was at the end, I wasn’t going to survive another day, I was going to be rewarded with championship gold. That is just one reward

The bigger reward was opening the door to so much more. Just the thought of it makes me giddy.

Anyway, I spent the majority of this day doing more reconnaissance.

But it turned into more people watching.

I plopped down in a little yellow two-piece into the smaller wading pool, book in hand, sunglasses on and more watching.

At the bar closest to me, I could see a man and woman on one side of a table facing me, talking to another gentleman whose back was to me. They were fans, having some kind of conversation, but I could also clearly see that the man and woman who were facing me were doing a little more. His hand was under the woman’s skirt.

Like he was up in there pretty far. Even from as far away as I was, I could see it.  He was going to town and she was just sitting there, straight faced. Now I became curious. Is his technique no good? Is she that good at holding it in? Have they fucking practiced this so that they can do it that discreetly? How long does that take? There were so many questions! But hey, you never turn down a free show, right?

Another couple got into an argument over a sandwich. The guy had a sub and presented one half to the girl. The girl rejected it, asking why he was giving her that exact piece. The guy lamented and offered the other half, trying to stop this from escalating. The girl again refused. But the girl continued, asking why she was not offered her choice. The dude explained they were the same thing, but the argument continued, until the dude just ended up taking a huge bite out of both halves, clearly frustrated.

I was really beginning to like this cruise. There was so much going on. I will have to do this more often.

People watching is always fun.

Day 5.

There isn’t much happening.

I guess all the fun is over as people are now getting serious. I spent the day watching videos of Kayla. We are just two days away and now, there’s less wrestler shenanigans. The fans are starting to want to get restless as well.

I wasn’t nervous, just anxious. I wanted to get this over and done with. There was so much at stake for me, and so much I needed to do. The faster I could do this, the easier it would be.

There is going to be so much chaos, so much more life pumped into this company.

Big plans. Big dreams.

I have seen my target. I have studied her movements and tendencies.

I know what I must do.

And then, it’s history maker.
Record breaker.

And champion.


The clock continues to tick. Time is constant. And soon enough, I will be the Bombshell’s champion.

I know this, because I have given and said so much, given so much for you Kayla, and you present next to nothing to me. Why did you choose to go down this path? Maybe it’s because you feel it in the air like I do. You feel the winds changing. Oh yes, I saw you on the cruise this week, looking out longingly at the ocean, lost in thought about what’s going to happen.

I don’t need to wonder, I have seen this moment coming since I signed with this company. Since I observed all the vanilla trash wandering around aimlessly. I realized my job and I need to give these people purpose. And I know that you are really thinking about beating me and stopping me, because you, my captain, are the last line of defense. You’re supposed to be the best. You’re the one destined to do what no one else has done so far, right?

But, instead you have already conceded and it’s disappointing.

Oh wait, no. Sorry I’m jumping the gun here.

No, this is the part where we try to act like we’re both too cool to be intimidated. Where we look back and go “what you said about me, it didn’t affect me!”

Let me start again.

So, let me see if I get this straight.

Our leader, our champion, and more importantly, my Captain, you, Kayla Richards, you could have very easily taken the opportunity to ditch me in the tag match, a match that really meant nothing besides a scouting report, and used that to show me the tough love to see if I was ready, and all that. It could have been a lesson for a rookie. Classic. But instead, you were crowing about how you didn’t do that and showed what a true champion she is…

Only to now tell me that you’re going to cheat if you have to? And be happy about it?

I don’t get it, and I’m not quite sure who that says more about quite frankly. Do you see me as that much of a threat to you that you need to resort to this when you have been so much better than me and everyone else? You’re the best, right? I am literally a rookie. I’ve already explained this to you, Kayla. This should be an ass kicking of a lifetime for me! This should be belt-to-ass for you!

Actually, I do get it.

And it makes it even more hilarious.

I made you do that.

I manipulated you into that. You were never in control of that tag match. I figured if I appealed to your ego, you’d stay and help the team. I tempted your pride by suggesting that you could leave me high and dry. So, whatever choice you made, it would be wrong. If you left me, I’d have ammo. If you stayed, you were playing into my hands. I put you in a lose-lose situation and you went headfirst into it. Now you sound dumb for saying you did it to be a true champion.

Sorry, let’s get back to the whole “unfazed” thing.

All this does is make what I have already said about you ring more truthful than ever. You are defined by the championship you currently have. You think you are the best because of it. And from what I can tell, from what I have seen, you are worried.

No, actually, you’re not just worried, you are fucking terrified.

You can feel your control slipping away. You can feel that you don’t have much time remaining as champion. This is why you’re resorting to a fucking scare tactic of saying you will cheat if you need to in order to keep that title. Why not just tell me you’re cool with getting yourself disqualified or counted out?

Probably because you know how pathetic that sounds.

I laid out your damn cards for you. I gave you everything you needed. And because you realize that this is pretty much the end of your reign, you’re resorting to this?

The stench of your desperation is palpable. And you feel entitled to do these things because it makes you feel justified.

“I had to work twice as hard as you did!”
“I didn’t get things handed to me!”
“You don’t know what hard work is like!”

Cry me a fucking river.

First of all, you don’t know me. You know what I’ve told you. And I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.

Second of all, I really didn’t need to hear about how you fought, scratched and clawed your way to your position, or how you whined and cried when you weren’t given matches. It says so much about you that everyone here thought so little of you that you had to beg to be thrown a bone and given a match. That sounds like a “you” problem. But it does make more sense now why you are so desperate to keep the title. You fear what I already called you out for.

Without it, you are irrelevant.

But yeah, sure. Cheat. I don’t really care if you do. I’m sure as shit down to cheat as well. Why not? If my Captain says it’s okay, then it’s okay. So yes, let’s cheat. Let’s use every underhanded tactic there is. I’ll bring some powder, right? You can tape something up and put it on your fist to punch me. Let’s see… We have to be sure and pull each other’s hair and grab the tights on pinfalls, and use the ropes for leverage. Yeah, it’ll be cool! Let’s have the dirtiest fight in the history of wrestling!

I’m down if you are Captain!

See, if you were listening to me, you would understand that I just need the title to get my point across. This whole thing has zero to do with you Kayla. Not in the slightest. You just happen to be the one who has the title. You just happen to symbolize the malaise that has come over Sin City Wrestling. And it’s just the icing on the cake that the title means so much to you.

It makes taking it from you all the most enjoyable.

To me, all that is, is an admission that you know that the Bombshell’s title is going to be mine, and you are just in denial about what it means for you. Without the title, you become a face in the crowd and that terrifies you. You don’t want to admit that harsh truth about yourself. You want to be somebody, be a name, a face people recognize. And you need a championship belt for that to happen. That is the truth.

Nobody cares about Kayla Richards if she’s not a champion. Those aren’t just my words, they’re yours.

Your words betray you Kayla. You telling me the story of fighting to get booked tells me everything I said is true. You don’t want to go back to the days of begging to get a spot on the show. And that’s what you think is going to happen when you lose. I’m sure that the company will throw you a bone at that point and perhaps give you a rematch. But by that point, it won’t matter. Your power will have evaporated.

And no, it’s not me trying to evaluate you. I’ve done enough in the medical and scientific fields to know, but I don’t need a degree to see it. This is how experience works. We went over this. When you see and hear something enough, you know it when you see it and hear it. It’s not hard. I see it in your face, I hear it in your voice. You want me to respect you, you want me to fear you and change who I am, for you. You expect it. You feel entitled to it.

And even though you aren’t, I still gave it to you.

I told you how great you were. I told you how accomplished you were. What more do you want from me, Kayla? How many more ways do you want me to tell you that you’re better than me? I have been nothing but respectful! I respect your skills and abilities! I told you as much! You are my Captain! Why don’t you believe me, Kayla?

What did I ever do in this world to deserve an empty-headed dumb fuck like you to come out and call me a smug little shit? You mad, bro? Why must you be this way, Captain? What exactly do you want me to be, Kayla? Should I be biting my nails, trembling with fear because the great Kayla Richards is looking across from me? I beat people better than you already. More accomplished. More experienced. Hall of Famers. I have no reason to fear you.

I haven’t heard a single person on any roster say they fear you. The only person I’ve heard this from is you. Which really just means you are pretending to be important when you really aren’t. You just want to be. And that title gives you the confidence to pretend that hard.

It feels like you are trying to play the “Do you know who I am?” card right now. Which… no, you can’t play that card because you already have your cards. They are already presented. It’s not my fault that you don’t like them. That’s the hand you were dealt.

So, now that we have all that out of the way, what shall I do with you once I am champion becomes the question.

I am on a quest for change and that means I have to be at the top. It is simply a matter of time when that will happen. All along my journey, I have changed everyone I have come across. You don’t see or hear Mikah or Laura clamoring to get back in the ring? Melissa has realized she’s done. Julianna has since departed as well. Lilith has looked in the mirror and now perhaps understands her role better. Seleana and Diamond both got the truth and soon they’ll realize that I am right.

So now it comes to you. Because it was so easy to manipulate you, and get under your skin, all while standing right beside you, why on earth would I want to change you? I like you just the way you are. Easily controlled. I say one thing and you will make a mountain out of it. You will fly on the handle, trying to cover all your bases in an effort to prove you are not affected, when we all can see you are.

No, I will very much enjoy pushing your buttons for the foreseeable future.

There are only two changes I need to make with you, Kayla.

One, will be the most painful for you, and that is relieving you of the Bombshell’s championship. No more power for you. It will be mine. I will have the power, because I need to make the changes, and through that title, they will come easier. You fade into the background, but I will keep you close. Give you just enough so that you believe that you are still what you think you should be.

The second, is subtle. You won’t even know it’s gone because you didn’t even know you had it.

I have to relieve you of the title of “My Captain”

I know, you didn’t ask for it. But as champion of the Bombshell’s division, you were the captain. You led us to victory. You have led the division for some time now. But you can’t be the captain anymore. Your time as captain is up. I know you enjoyed it, but in order to really change things, you must be removed. I have to be the captain. I have to lead this division. You clearly haven’t done a good enough job. I’m just telling you what everyone else already knows, and more importantly, what you already know.

So, there’s a cruel and amazing irony that this title in particular will be removed from you, on a cruise ship.

Now, normally, this would be a mutiny and then you’d be sent off the plank or perhaps given a lifeboat and left on an island somewhere. But here? You will simply be cast aside while I take my rightful place at the top.

This is how it has to be.

I will be the Bombshell’s champion. I will beat you for it, Kayla. And I will make you a believer.
It’s for the best.

History maker.
Record breaker.

Trust me.