Taking Hold of the Flame 2026

[SnowQueenSCW]

Scars of a Fascade

”The Queen in Exile”

Liam Jacks' Bar and Grill
Nome, Alaska
June 4th, 2026
10:57 PM

The television flickered in the corner, never ending its airing of sports on the same channel. Nobody was watching it. At least nobody except her.

A handful of fishermen occupied one table near the front windows – she could smell some the salt and worms and fish scents coming off them. Two mechanics sat near the far end of the bar discussing truck parts. An older couple shared coffee and pie near the entrance.

A Thursday night.
A normal night.
A quiet night in Nome.

The kind of night Selena Frost had spent most of her life running away from – decades of her life wanting nothing more to than to escape these smells, these people, and the hatred so many of them had carried for ‘The Crazy Miner’s Daughter’.

Now... now she couldn't imagine wanting anything else...

The platinum-blonde sat alone at the far end of the bar, a half-empty glass in front of her. Half-empty?Half-full? She supposed it depended on perspective.

That thought almost made her laugh - almost.

Instead she simply took another drink. The whiskey burned just like she remembered all those years ago. Gods, how had she gone so long without it? The burn was familiar, comforting, and predictable.

Unlike everything else.

The television mounted above the bar continued its show - airing Breakdown live from Washington DC. Occasionally, her eyes would move towards it to take it in, watching the show, as she did every week at this time since she had hidden here.

SCW: Her home. Her kingdom. The company she had spent years carrying on her shoulders... The company she had nearly destroyed.

The irony wasn't lost on her. It was as bitter as the whiskey was burning, maybe more so because she still felt the bitterness despite the drink. The woman once called the Face of SCW was hiding in a bar nearly four thousand miles away while the company moved on without her.

No announcements.
No explanations.
No triumphant returns.
Nothing but a few small questions from people here and there.

The world kept turning.

That realization hurt more than she expected. Because once upon a time, she'd actually believed SCW couldn't survive without her. Or, at least, couldn’t hold a semblance of integrity or truth to its name without her.

How arrogant... she thought in her growing brain fog. How stupid.

The company had survived before Selena Frost. It would survive after her.

The camera on the television focused briefly on Amelia and Luz, causing Selena's sapphire eyes to drift, once more, upward. The sight immediately twisted something inside her chest.

How could she had said any of those things about Amelia? That the young woman wasn’t ready. That the woman didn’t have what it took to become World Champion. But seeing her on the television, world title on her person, didn’t make Selena feel anything but dread. Dread for Amelia – for Luz – for the marriage of Light in the Darkness... and then it was gone. The concern. The care. All buried deep with another swig of whiskey.

The world would just keep moving forward. Only Selena had stopped.

With a sigh, the platinum-blonde, reached into her pocket and pulled out a small orange bottle, eyeing it for a moment.

NX.

Her fingers turned the container over slowly, reading the label despite knowing every word already. She hated the bottle. Hated what it represented and hated what it meant. Even so, she unscrewed the cap anyway, pulled out two pills and dry swallowed them.

No hesitation. No guilt. Not anymore.

The guilt belonged elsewhere. The NX, like her drinking, was simply another way to stop feeling. Another way to make the hours pass. Another way to survive until sleep finally arrived.

If sleep arrived... she thought dryly. It didn't always come - not lately.

Because every time she closed her eyes... Hubris waited. Always waiting. Always replaying.

Again.
Again.
Again.

The memory appeared so vividly she could practically hear the crowd and feel the canvas beneath her boots. She could go back and relive that moment of pinning Gavin Taylor to the mat, the hand of the official coming down for a third time! Milliseconds from victory!

She'd had it. Gods help her, she'd had it. The match was won. She knew it. Everyone knew it!

Everything had finally aligned: The title.
The redemption.
The future.
The fix.
All of it.

She remembered that moment there, the hand drawing closer to the mat – like time was slowing to allow her to savour this feeling. Allow her to believe. ACTUALLY believe! Believe everything would be okay!

She would become World Champion! She would fix SCW! She would stop Delatosso! She would stop the corruption! She would make things right!

And after that...

After that she would go home! She would sit Deanna down! Tell her everything! Every ugly detail! Every selfish thought! Every fear! Every mistake! Every reason!

She would explain.

Then she would spend the rest of her life making it right. Making up for it. Making up for forging her name. Making up for stealing her opportunity. Making up for every broken promise. Every lie. Every betrayal. She would earn forgiveness! Not ask for it. Earn it like she had every other thing she had gained in this life!

That had been the plan. And it would come true! Just as soon as the official’s hand slapped the mat for a third time!

Selena blinked as a yell came from one of the fishermen, asking for another drink. Her reality came crashing down on top of her, her delusion gone.

She wasn’t in SCW – she was watching it. She wasn’t in Manhattan or Washington DC, she was far from it. And she wasn’t world champion. She was... she was nothing...

One moment.
One split second.
One unforeseen variable.

Just like the Battle Royal last year with Cid returning and eliminating while her back was turned and focused on eliminating Xander.

Just like Rise to Greatness. Cid sneaking up from behind and catching her just as she was about to unhook the world title!

Just like every other moment she'd reached for destiny only for destiny to laugh in her face.

And just like it... it was all gone. Everything was gone: The championship. The redemption. The future. The purpose. All stolen in an instant.

In the blink of an eye, she had gone from pinning the world champion to be choked out by Amelia, her mind, too confused to process what was happening, acting in two different ways – one trying desperately to reach the ropes and the other trying to keep some part of her, any limb or body part, on Gavin to get the ref to keep counting, her mind just screaming, Count the pin! Count the three!! over and over again until it had all gone dark...

The glass tightened in her hand, but she didn’t throw it like she had other occasions like this. Part of her still wanted to blame someone. Gods, it would be easier if she could!

Blame CHBK.
Blame Frank Delatosso.
Blame the contract.
Blame the politics.
Blame the match structure.
Blame the fact she'd been promised one thing and given another.

Hadn't that happened before? Hadn't Rise to Greatness stolen her moment the same way? Hadn't she been manipulated? Hadn't she been screwed? The arguments were there on the edges of her mind – ready and waiting and... and... and convenient.

Because every single one collapsed beneath a single fact. A fact she couldn't escape. A fact she saw every time she looked in a mirror. A fact more devastating than losing any championship.

The fact that she didn't belong in that match in the first place. Not really. Not after what she'd done. Not after how she'd gotten there.

The title opportunity had belonged to Deanna, not her.

Deanna. The realization hit just as hard now as it had five weeks ago, causing Selena to just stare into her drink. The reflection staring back looked unfamiliar – Older. Tired. Broken. Ashamed. Warped. The woman in the glass wasn't the Snow Queen and wasn't the Face of SCW. Wasn't the icon and wasn't the leader.

She was a thief.
A liar.
A fraud.

The whiskey suddenly tasted bitter – and she drank anyway.

I deserve bitterness.

That was the only honest thought that kept coming her. What she deserved. It wasn’t a world title. It wasn’t a main-event spot. It wasn’t a nickname like ‘Face of SCW’ or ‘Snow Queen’. It was just that she deserved bitterness. Bitterness and so much worse...

A large hand settled another glass nearby. Selena didn't look up – she didn’t have to. She knew who it was.

"That's your fourth."

“Going for a new record.” Selena half-laughed as she gazed up at the man standing before her.

Liam Jacks. The man who had looked out for her most of life. Her father’s old friend. The man who had saved her life more than once... and the man currently watching her destroy herself.

“Not something to be proud of, Frosty.” Liam remarked, moving the glass a little beyond her immediately reach. Selena’s sigh was immediate – heavy and tired.

They’d had this conversation for weeks – just like the next one she knew was coming.

"You haven't eaten." Liam started.
"I'm not hungry." Selena responded knowingly. “And there are calories in the whiskey.”
"That's not an answer."
"Sure it is." Selena shrugged. “I also drank that water you gave me a minute ago.”
“That was an hour ago.” Liam corrected.
“Time flies when you’re having fun!” Selena laughed, though she wasn’t sure what was so funny.

Liam remained standing there: Patient, stubborn, infuriating... Family. The worst combination imaginable for the platinum-blonde.

"You're killing yourself." he stated.
"If I was killing myself, you'd know." Selena sighed. “It involve a big balcony on the tallest tower of a castle about the clouds! I’d just... fewwwwooooo.” She made a sound like sailing – or falling – through the air. “Just let myself fly, you know? Like Grandma taught me...”

The statement wasn't entirely untrue, but Liam didn’t have to know that.

"Don't joke about that." he warned.
"I'm not." Selena shrugged, resting the side of her head on her hand. “I’d fly away from all of this! No one would have to look up... or care.”

Silence immediately followed as the television continued playing.

The crowd roared somewhere thousands of miles away as the wrestlers continued going on without any thought about where she was.

The large man before her folded his arms over his keg of a body. "You need help."

She scoffed at the word. Help. She hated it.

“Help implies I deserved saving.” she answered, shaking her head against her hand. “Help implies there was something left worth saving. Help implies redemption. Forgiveness. Recovery.” she turned her eyes away from the television to gaze at her uncle. “I don’t believe in any of those anymore.”

"Selena..."
"Nope." Selena shook her head again, which felt heavier. “Zero belief!” she stated. “I never should have left her to begin with! Everyone ends up back here, right? Can’t escape the frozen hell that is Nome, Alaska! I didn’t escape!” she laughed. “I just took a thirteen-year vacay, right?!”

She saw Liam’s jaw tighten. "You can't keep doing this." His eyes shifted to the NX bottle sat beside her drink. Both of them noticed it but neither commented. The silence said enough.

Liam looked away first. "You got your kids. You don’t think they miss you."

The words landed hard and painfully. Because unlike the rest of the world... That wound still bled.

Elsianna.
David.
Amiliah.

Three names. Three reasons she should have gone home, and three reasons she hadn't.

Because what would she tell them? What explanation existed? How did she explain becoming the villain? How did she explain betraying their other mother? How did she explain choosing ambition over love? How did she explain destroying everything she'd spent years teaching them?

Selena merely shook her headn. She couldn't. There wasn't an explanation. All she had left were excuses and the memory of her eldest child slapping her across the face.

"You need to call them." Liam pressed, seeing the memories fly across Selena’s eyes.
"No."
"You need to talk to Deanna."
"No."
"Why?"

Selena finally looked up. The answer was so obvious she couldn't believe he had asked.

"And say what, Liam?” she glared at the man. “Say I’m sorry for the millionth time? That I’m sorry for screwing up for the millionth time? Sorry for hurting her again for the MILLIONTH time?” she refused to look away. “Malcolm Scythe didn’t FUCK things up as badly as I did, Liam!” she all but yelled that last part. “He’d be let into heaven with open arms before I was given another chance!”

There was a silence between them, Liam’s eyes flitting over to his other customers before returning to Selena, which was enough for the Snow Queen to quiet herself to avoid causing a scene. “She deserves better." she finished with a mumble, returning to her drink.

"That's not your decision." he whispered.
"She deserves someone better than this." Selena replied with no further emotion, the decision already set in her mind.

"Kid-" he tried, his tone softening.
"I betrayed her, Liam.” she sighed. “What part of that is too complex?”

The words came faster now – raw and unfiltered.

"I forged her name. I stole from her – something she rightfully earned. I lied to her." with every confession, she felt the weight increase on her heart. Another breath. Another drink. They all failed to suppress the truth. "I became everything I hated."

The television continued playing as she said there. Nobody in the bar paid attention to them or the television. Nobody except her. Nobody except the woman falling apart one sentence at a time.

For a moment, the thought came to her and she chuckled softly at it.

"Do you know what's funny?" His face suggested he didn't. "All those years... All those years talking about integrity." Another laugh. "I talked about doing things the right way." Another laugh, more bitterness. "Standing up for people. Being better." The final words emerged barely above a whisper. "And then I wasn't."

The silence afterwards felt endless. The television cut to another segment: another match, another story. Another future that no longer included her. And she didn’t care.

Liam eventually spoke. "You made a mistake."

Selena actually smiled -  a sad smile. "A mistake?"
"Yeah."

"A mistake is forgetting an anniversary. A mistake is missing a flight. A mistake is burning dinner." The smile disappeared. "What I did was a choice."

The distinction mattered far more than anyone seemed willing to understand. She had chosen:

Chosen ambition.
Chosen obsession.
Chosen desperation.
Chosen the title.

And now she had to live with that.

Because if she blamed anyone else... Anyone other than her – the person that had willingly made that choice.

Liam sat beside her. For a long moment neither spoke. The clock continued ticking past eleven. The bar remained generally quiet beyond the rabble of the those talking in their booths and chairs.

Outside, darkness consumed Nome, not so different from the darkness that consumed Selena.

Eventually Liam spoke again. "You know this isn't what your father would've wanted."

Her father, Donovan Frost. The man that became Jonathan VanHohenheim when he had lost his memory. The man that, in his days as a Frost, had taught her compassion. Taught her forgiveness. Taught her how to keep working and striving to achieve what you believe in. The man that had believed Selena could become something extraordinary.

Selena stared at her drink.

"Donovan Frost died years ago." Selena remarked. “Jonathan VanHohenheim doesn’t know what to think of me.”
"You know he wouldn't want this." Liam tried. “No matter what he may or may not remember.”

She was about to say something when she looked up and spotted the flash of red on the screen as Deanna was attacking Dawn Lohan. “Oh that’s funny!” Selena laughed, genuinely. “My ex and my ex fighting each other! If it’s over me, I’ll be flattered!” she teased, not meaning it. However, when she saw Deanna step into the office after Frank Delatosso, she couldn’t help the spike of worry that penetrated through her whisky-fuelled fog. “Why is she talking to him?”

“About you it seems...” Liam remarked, having watched the same show and, seemingly, invigorated in his argument. “You know she’s been looking for you.”

“I know.” Selena sighed. She had lost count over the number of text and voicemails she had gotten from Deanna in the last few weeks. They’ll stop soon enough... she had reasoned each day.

"You know she wouldn't want this." She mentally cursed at Liam’s remark. Of course he was right. Deanna wouldn’t want to see Selena like this. Deanna would, flat-out, hate this: the drinking, the pills, the isolation, the surrender.

Selena could practically hear the lecture and see those emerald eyes glaring at her. Could hear the stubborn insistence that things could still be fixed.

That there was still hope. That there was still a path forward.

The problem was that Deanna still believed in people. And Selena didn’t. Not in people, SCW, or herself.

Another roar erupted from the television. The camera showed Breakdown continuing without her. Without the woman who had once stood at the center of everything.

And yet, now, the realization felt strangely peaceful. Maybe that was the answer. Maybe SCW was better off. Maybe Deanna was better off. Maybe everyone was.

Maybe disappearing had been the most useful thing she'd done in years!

The thought should have frightened her. Instead it simply made her tired - so very tired.

Selena stood up, feeling her spine crack and pop with her movements, surprising Liam.

"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Bathroom."

He nodded, watching her carefully, as she stumbled her way over the familiar path towards the ladies’ room. In truth, she hated making him worry. But what could she do about it? It was just another thing to add to the list. Another debt she'd never repay.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the bathroom and felt the room sway slightly - Not much. Just enough. Thank the whiskey, the NX, the exhaustion, and the depression...

It took her longer than she would have liked to do her business, but as she washed her hands and saw her reflection in the mirror, she suddenly paused...

Not because she had an epiphany. Not because hope suddenly appeared, but because she felt a strange feeling. A fleeting thought – a memory...

White fabrics...
Red mane of hair...
Emerald eyes...
Sunlight...
Home...

The image appeared so suddenly it almost stole her breath. And for one dangerous second she considered turning around and going back. Calling the number that had called her so many times. Sending a reply text to the many she had ignored. Something. Anything! Something to fix-

Like her delusions of Hubris... Reality returned. The betrayal returned. The shame returned. And the moment vanished. Destroyed in a second.

Selena lowered her head at her own reflection, unable to look at it again. Instead, she reached for her NX bottle, only to realize she had left on the bar counter with her phone.

“Right...” she muttered. “Lose my own wife if it wasn’t attached to my shoulders.” she tried, not caring how wrong she had gotten the saying as she stumbled out of the bathroom.

Liam would give her a ride home, he always did, well simultaneously discouraging her from sleeping in a cave, but she was half out of it by now anyway, not like she’d care.

Nope. For the first time in her life, Selena Frost wasn't caring.
Wasn’t fighting.
Wasn't planning.
Wasn't chasing destiny.
Wasn't chasing championships.
Wasn't trying to save anyone.

She had simply...surrendered.

And somewhere deep down, beneath the guilt and shame and exhaustion, a terrible question lingered in the darkness.

Not whether she could come back. Not whether she could be forgiven. Not whether she could fix what she had broken.

But whether she even wanted to try anymore...