A lot to consider, before leaving for Ibiza
Calaway Estate
Dallas, Texas
“But if I stay here… I don’t want to keep doing the long-distance shuffle. Not just for me but for you and in a way for Ashlynn.”
“I’m not trying to rush anything,”
"It’s just...the idea of waking up next to you, not having to count days or flights or FaceTimes...it sounds like something real. Something we could build. Together.”
Alexandra had LJ had just hung up after a very deep phone call. She hadn’t expected him to ask something so big. It’s true, they had just crossed the year mark a few weeks ago. His need for them to be there with him, to build something real together.
She sat in the quiet after, her fingers loosely wrapped around the phone, heart still echoing his words. They filled the corners of the room like sunlight trying to reach her, but they didn’t quite warm her completely. There was love there, deep and steady. She felt it every time he said her name like it mattered. And the way he talked about a future, their future, not just some vague dream, but a life he wanted to create with her. With Ashlynn.
But that’s what made it harder.
Ashlynn. Her whole world wrapped up in a sixteen-year-old who was already balancing on the edge of adulthood. Confident. Bright. Guarded in ways only teenage girls could be. She had roots here, friends she’d grown up with, teachers who understood her, a social circle she trusted, and a rhythm to her life that Alexandra had worked hard to protect. Taking her away from all that? From everything she knew? It felt like tossing a stone into still water and bracing for the ripple.
Still, the memory of LJ’s voice lingered, warm, steady, full of hope. And God, she wanted that too. Waking up to someone who chose her every day. Building something with hands that wouldn’t let go. She could see it: Sunday mornings with quiet coffee, Ashlynn rolling her eyes at their stolen kisses in the kitchen, a life full of ordinary moments that didn’t have to be packed into weekend visits or countdown clocks.
But love came with risk. And being a mother meant holding two hearts in her chest, not just one.
She rubbed her temple, torn between longing and responsibility. Was it fair to even consider asking Ashlynn to start over at sixteen? To leave the place where she’d kissed her first boyfriend, bombed her math midterm, cried on the bathroom floor after a fight with her best friend?
Alexandra leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closed. The silence wasn’t empty, it was full of possibilities, each one asking her to be brave in a different way. What if Ashlynn hated her for this? What if she pulled away? What if this love, this rare, hard-earned, beautiful thing, unraveled under the weight of reality?
And yet... wasn’t that the gamble of love? That sometimes it asked you to leap, not because it promised a perfect landing, but because the person waiting on the other side was worth the fall?
She sighed and stood slowly, glancing down the hallway where Ashlynn’s door was closed, music leaking faintly from behind it. Her daughter, her world. This conversation, when it came, would matter more than any she’d had with LJ. Because if they went, they’d go as a we, or not at all.
One conversation at a time, she told herself.
And maybe... just maybe... the rest would follow. For now she needed to focus, she needed to prepare for her match. Bella and Victoria wouldn’t be easy on her. But no one could be harder on her than she herself was at this moment.
Short and Simple
Hotel
Monaco
A panoramic drone shot glides over the glittering Monaco coastline. The moonlight shimmers on the water, the yachts are lit like floating palaces, and the distant hum of music from the casinos fills the air. The camera slowly pushes in on the balcony of the Hôtel de Paris. Alexandra Calaway stands there, black silk robe over her exquisite frame, long hair flowing in the breeze, a champagne flute in her hand. She stares out at the city with the calm confidence of someone who already believes she owns it.
"Monaco, The crown jewel of the Riviera. A place where fortunes change hands over the spin of a wheel, where billionaires and movie stars mingle in champagne lounges, where every balcony hides a story worth telling. And tonight, this balcony, this view, this story, belongs to me.”
She takes a moment to look over the railing at the view below. The bright lights of the city, the roar of the nightlife below.
“Look down there, the streets are alive. Laughter, music, the shuffle of chips, the clink of glasses. They came here for a taste of luxury but me? I didn’t come to taste it. I came to take it.”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and soaking in the night time air, the sound around her. Breathing it all in she continues.
“And in just a matter of hours, luxury won’t be measured in diamonds or bank accounts. It’ll be measured in blood spilled under velvet ropes. It’ll be measured in broken bottles and shattered egos. Because tomorrow night, in the main event, it’s a VIP Lounge Brawl. Boy do I pity Christian when this is over. Bella Madison. Victoria Lyons. And Alexandra Calaway. One winner. One ticket punched straight to Mykonos, where Kayla Richards and her precious title will be waiting for one of us lucky women."
She swirls the champagne, eyes locked on the glittering coastline.
"You know, I’ve wrestled all over the world. Tokyo. London. Vegas. But there’s something about Monaco that feels somehow fitting. This city understands status. It understands power. It understands that not all women are created equal. Some of us are born to rule and some are born to kneel. Tomorrow night, I will remind the world which category I belong to. But before we get to the fight, let’s talk about my opponents, shall we?"
She leans against the balcony rail, her voice softening but her smirk sharp.
"Bella Madison. Let’s start with you. Because unlike the other name on that list, you’ve earned a certain level of respect from me. You’re a fighter. You don’t hide behind excuses. You don’t need to stab someone in the back to get ahead. You’ve been in wars and you’ve walked away stronger. And I respect that. Truly. In a business full of pretenders, you’re one of the few who can look me in the eye and mean it when you say you’re coming to fight. But here’s the thing about respect, Bella, we both know, respect doesn’t mean mercy. It doesn’t mean I’ll pull my punches. If anything, it means I’ll give you the very best version of Alexandra Calaway and that is not a gift, it’s a death sentence. We both know this.”
She hated that she had to go up against Bella, because she did have quite a bit of respect from Alexandra. That wouldn’t change things in the end though. She would go hard on Bella if it meant the win.
“When that bell rings, the velvet ropes in that VIP section won’t be for keeping people out, they’ll be there to trap you in with me. And when I drive your head through a glass drink tray, when I wrap that hookah hose around your neck and squeeze, it won’t be out of spite, it’ll be out of necessity. Because I’m not stepping into that ring to make friends. I’m stepping in to win. And if I have to break you to do it, Bella, I will."
Her smile fades. The champagne glass lowers. There’s a flicker of heat in her eyes now.
"And then there’s you. Victoria Lyons. You and I we’ve danced this dance before, haven’t we? You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long. You’re like a shadow that lingers just long enough to make me want to burn the whole room down. Everywhere I turn, there you are. Whispering. Plotting. Clinging to whatever scraps of relevance you can get your claws on. And you’ve tried, oh, you’ve tried, to make me stumble. You’ve tried to make me doubt myself. You’ve tried to make yourself my equal. But you’re not my equal, Victoria. You never have been. And the thing is, I think you know that. I think that’s why you’re so desperate to make my life hell. Because deep down, you understand the truth: No matter how hard you claw you’ll never reach the throne again."
She sets the champagne down on the balcony railing, her voice hardening.
"I’ve never beaten you before. I’ve never embarrassed you before. But tomorrow night, it’s not just about beating you. It’s about ending this. I’m going to take that leather couch in the VIP lounge, lay you across it, and drive my knee into your skull until you stop moving. I’m going to make you wish you’d never signed the contract for this match. And when it’s over, when the champagne is mixed with your blood on that floor, you’ll finally understand… there’s no room for you in my world."
She picks the champagne glass back up, but doesn’t drink. She turns, facing the camera fully for the first time.
"The VIP Lounge Brawl, what a beautiful concept. Velvet ropes, strobe lights, champagne bottles, hookah hoses, DJ headphones, it’s like they designed it just for me. See, some wrestlers panic when you put them in a chaotic environment like that. They get distracted. They lose focus. Me? I thrive in it. Chaos is my natural habitat. When that bell rings, I’m not just going to use the weapons they hand me. I’m going to turn that VIP section into a masterpiece. Every bottle, every tray, every rope, I’ll use them all. And when I’m done, people won’t just remember the fight, they’ll remember the artwork I left behind."
She sets the glass down completely now. The wind picks up slightly. Her voice lowers, dripping with venom.
"Victoria, I’ve been patient. I’ve been composed. I've listened to every slight you have thrown in my direction and took it with class and poise. But the truth is every time I think about you, my hands itch to tear you apart. You’ve cost me matches. You’ve cost me moments. And tomorrow night, I’m going to take everything from you in return. I want you to feel it. I want you to hear the sound of the glass breaking under your body. I want to see the panic in your eyes when you realize you’re trapped. I want you to understand that when I said I was going to end you, I meant it.”
That was the truth of it. She would make sure to deal with Victoria, however she needed to. By the end of the night, that Bombshell World Title shot would be hers.
“Bella, you’ll get caught in the crossfire. And I’m sorry for that. But you knew the risk the moment you signed your name. Tomorrow night isn’t about who wants it most. It’s about who’s willing to go the farthest. And I’ve been to the darkest corners of this business, ladies. I’ve done things you wouldn’t even whisper about. And tomorrow night in Monaco, you’ll see all of it."
Her tone shifts again, calmer but still deadly.
"And when it’s over, when I’m standing there, hand raised, the winner of the VIP Lounge Brawl, I’ll get on a plane. I’ll fly to Mykonos. And Kayla Richards, I hope you’re watching. Because I’m not coming to Greece for the sunshine. I’m coming for your title. Climax Control is just the beginning. Mykonos is the destination. And when I get there, I’ll do to you what I did to them. This is the year Alexandra Calaway takes everything."
She picks up the champagne, finishes it in one smooth motion, and sets the empty glass down with a quiet click. She leans forward, eyes locked on the lens, and delivers her final words with icy precision.
"Monaco, enjoy the show. I know I will. Because tomorrow night, the streets run gold and red."
The camera slowly fades to black, with LJ coming out to the balcony and wrapping his arms around Alexandra’s midsection and kissing the back of her head.
Its a simple answer Angel
Hotel
Monaco
The scene opens where the promo left off. The champagne glass is still on the balcony railing, the moonlight dancing across the water. Alexandra stands with her back to the sliding doors, her eyes scanning the horizon. The glass door behind her slides open quietly, and LJ steps out, dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He closes the door gently behind him.
“You’re out here alone again. Let me guess, running through the match in your head?”
Alexandra doesn’t turn right away. She smirks faintly, still staring at the city lights.
“Always. You know me, I can’t shut it off. Especially not now. Monaco tonight. Mykonos next week. Everything I’ve been fighting for could be decided in the next seven days.”
LJ walks up beside her, resting his elbows on the railing. For a moment, they just stand together, listening to the faint sounds of the city below.
“I get it. I do. But I also know, when you’re chasing the next big thing, everything else starts fading into the background. But there are bigger things that we need to discuss, certain questions that have been asked.”
That makes Alexandra turn her head, her eyes narrowing slightly, not in anger, but in that sharp, analytical way she does in the ring.
“Don’t. You know Ashlynn and you are my whole world. You both are. But right now, I’m—”
“—Right now, you’re Alexandra Calaway, wrestler, Bombshell, contender. But what happens when you’re not in fight mode? What happens when the match is over? Have you given any more thought to what I asked you last week? About you and Ashlynn moving to Vegas with me?”
Alexandra looks away, back out over the harbor. She grips the railing a little tighter, her nails tapping lightly against the metal.
“I’ve thought about it. Believe me, I have. Vegas is tempting. I mean, you’ve built a life there. And Ashlynn would love the change, new schools, new energy. But LJ, you know what that move would mean. Vegas would be home base, and home base means commitment. It means, less running, less chasing every booking around the globe. And I’m not sure I’m ready to slow you down. Not yet. You are young, but I know that this, us, is real.”
LJ turns toward her fully, his expression gentle but firm.
“I’m not asking you to stop being who you are. Lord knows I’m not, hell I’m here too. I’m asking you to give yourself and us a foundation. You’ve been living out of suitcases for years and long flights home to Dallas, Angel. Always on the move, always somewhere else. Vegas could be the one place you come back to. A place where Ashlynn knows her bedroom’s always waiting for her. A place where I’m always with you. No more long flights and scheduled facetimes.”
Alexandra exhales slowly, her gaze drifting down to the empty champagne glass.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is as simple as breath love. You just have to decide what matters more chasing the gold every second of every day, or having something solid to come home to when the chase is over.”
A beat of silence. The waves crash softly below.
“Let me get through this VIP Lounge Brawl. Let me get through Mykonos. If I win that title shot, everything changes. I just, I can’t divide my head right now. Not when Victoria’s in that match. Not when Bella’s in it. But after, I promise. We’ll talk. And I’ll give you an answer.”
LJ studies her for a moment, then nods. He leans in, kisses her temple, and rests his forehead against hers briefly.
"Fair enough Angel. Just, don’t take too long to decide, okay? Because I’m all in on this. On us.”
Alexandra finally turns fully toward him, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips.
“Me too.”
They stand together for a long moment, the city lights reflecting in their eyes. Then, from somewhere down on the streets of Monaco, the distant sound of music swells, a reminder of the world still moving around them. The camera slowly pulls back from the balcony as the scene fades to black.
