04-09-2019, 06:30 PM
A few months ago… Jordan Majors walks into a lawyer’s office looking like complete misery. She wore sweatpants a sweatshirt and flip flops. Her brown hair sat in a messy bun and black-rimmed glasses adorned her face. She looked less than well-kempt to the attorney from Dewey Cheatum Howe as he sat down at his desk and peered across at the mess of human form that sat in one of his office chairs. He shook his head as he flipped open a folder and began to look over a document.
Lawyer: So, Kayla, is it?
Jordan: Uhh… what?
Lawyer: Your name? Is it Kayla? No, Karen.
Jordan: Umm.. Kylie.
The lawyer shifted in his seat and smiled as he looked at the girl. She had no confidence. She was a wreck, but he didn’t know anything about it. He was not aware the girl was just days from spending every thing she had left just to survive. She was busy trying to look like someone she wasn’t. She wanted to appear wealthy and confident. Instead she looked poor and broken, like her soul had been ripped out of her body and stomped on, then pushed back in before someone kicked her in the head. Well, maybe that wasn’t far from the truth after a lackluster few weeks of debuting in one of the world’s top wrestling companies.
Lawyer: Regardless, do you know your uncle? Stewart?
Jordan: I’ve heard of him. Sort of. I mean my mother mentioned him once or twice.
Lawyer: Yes, well, he was one of the world’s wealthiest men. He died recently and you probably didn’t even know it. It sounds like you’ve never met him or rarely heard of him. We advised him against this but, you see, he was quite positive this was the move to make.
Jordan: I’m sorry, I’m very confused.
Lawyer: Your uncle was a great investor of many things. Many products that became regular things. He hated his family. In fact, he never had a wife or children of his own. So when I say he hated his family. I mean his mother, and his sisters.
Jordan: I’m still not sure what’s happening. Am I in trouble for something?
Lawyer: Your uncle left in his will a stipulation that his entire worth transfer to a family member. And this one person can keep his fortune as long as they agree not to loan or give one penny of that money to another member of this family. He looked at his tree and found one person he believes to be an outlaw. One person whose life he wants to change forever. And that person… is you!
Jordan sat speechless as her mouth slowly dropped open.
Lawyer: I know this is a lot to take in and you’ll probably need a moment to process this so I’ll…
Jordan: I’m rich! I’m rich!! HA!!!
The lawyer watches as Jordan dances around his office, jumping up and down. The scene slowly fades out as an alarm blares and Jordan turns and silences the nasty noise from her phone. She looks at the lines created on the floor as the sun beams through the blinds and sits up as she yawns and smiles. That moment was just months ago, but she’s never stopped dreaming of it. She grabs her phone and swipes through a few apps before standing and glancing down at the girl in bed behind her, still asleep.
Jordan: Small basket, pfft.
Jordan scoffs as she grabs her robe and her phone and walks out on the balcony of her suite. One of her two guards appears with a cup of coffee and hands it to her as she sits down in a chair and looks out over the city. The security man says nothing as the other one shuffles into the room from behind and starts to wake the girl he’s charged with hustling out of the room to the small basket of goodies and an elevator ride off of the exclusive floor. Jordan takes a sip and smiles as she looks up to her guard.
Jordan: She was ok. Just a waste of my time. Could have been better. Besides, I’ve got my eyes elsewhere. You know, where the baskets won’t even be necessary.
Jordan paused and looked out at the city before taking another drink. She turns and looks up with a somewhat serious look.
Jordan: I hope everything on my calendar is situated? I have a lot of people I’m putting aside time for right now. All of them important. Sienna Swan has been texting me frequently. Bree Lancaster wants to do lunch soon. Let’s get that one in as soon as we can. She sat me up with that designer, Scott, and the parties last weekend were absolutely glorious. We spared no expense and I assure you it was very much worth it. I had a blast celebrating my birthday and my very first SCW win. Also, I know Laura Steinbeck called. She represents the Beauty Factory lot. I’d be a liar to say I’m not at least interested to hear her out and see what she has to say. Oh, and one more thing, can we see why Abigail hasn’t responded to any of my messages? I know it’s kind of her thing to be mysterious, but I’m way too intrigued to just let that one go silent.
Jordan smirks as she stands and hands her half empty cup to the guard who she was talking with and leaned out over the balcony to take in the cool air of the morning. She raises a brow as she looks back.
Jordan: You know, I have to admit I was kind of looking forward to some sort of memorable match at this Tabula Rasa show, but I understand why I’m in the position I’m in. It was, after all, my decision to take some time off and re invent who Jordan Majors is to these people. It was just a few months ago they were looking at me and they were laughing. I was a miserable failure that was trying way too hard to be the best, while hiding in my little corner and sticking to myself. Now I butt my way into conversations, I make myself known and I show them who I really am, and they don’t know how to react at all. This is not the Jordan Majors they thought they knew. Hell, even the commentary compared me to Bree. What an indescribable honor. But I’m not a clone at all. I know I’m new money. I’m not a fool to the fact that I don’t look good in high society walking around and flashing my bills as I wish. I walk around with two guards that could tear half the SCW locker room apart if they wanted to, if not more, and I remind everyone I see that I probably have more money than them. That I am better than them. People in our word are always about self-validation and comparing bank accounts and wallets and the items they keep in their garage or on their person. I just take that idea to the next level. I stay where I want, I drive what I want, I take the most beautiful women to bed with me, I buy jewels by the store, houses by the block and I will own a successful career with the same resources that have given me everything I want to date. But there will be obstacles…
Jordan shifts and walks back into the suite where the girl from her bed was now gone. She opens the closet and sifts through several outfits.
Jordan: I’m a team player, but I look at the group of people I’m teaming with at Tabula Rasa and I can’t help but sneer. I mean, really, one of these women is standing there and proclaiming herself the captain like she’s fighting alongside a bunch of nobody misfits that can’t carry a bucket of water across a room let alone share a ring with her. And she can think what she wants, honestly. But by the time she’s done sharing this ring with me, my ring no doubt, she will never again look down on me. She might think she’s the captain, but I’ll be the one making the game-winning shot that puts us on the winning side at this event. You can bank on it. I’m Jordan Majors and I have more than enough cash to put my money where my mouth is. There was a time when I walked into a match in this company and I pretended to have enough confidence in myself to achieve anything. Now I just know. I mean, look at the people in SCW that are suddenly willing to surround themselves around me. And the ones that are trying to avoid me? They can’t handle the swagger that I carry on Twitter let alone in the ring. I’m the best on our team and I will be the one that leads us to a victory. Don’t you agree, sweetie?
The guard standing near Jordan smiles and nods to her and receives a smile back from her before she grabs an outfit and starts to shoo him with her hand.
Jordan: Alright, now get out of here. I’ve got to get dressed to kill so I can thrill another person with the potential to make sure we end up where we really belong. The tip top of SCW. Oh, and don’t forget to grab the bigger duffle bag before we head out. We’re probably going to need it for this one…
We flash back to the lawyer’s office where Jordan is calming down and plops down into the chair in front of the desk.
Jordan: Wow! I mean holy… wow!!
Lawyer: Listen Jordan. There’s something you need to understand here. My firm and I will be evaluating what you’re doing with your finances and if there is any hint. Even a hint that you giving money to your mother… this will requires that we take that money back and donate it to a number of charities.
Jordan: Screw her and screw the charities. I’m spending this money the way Harold always wanted me to. On myself!
Lawyer: Harold? You mean Stewart?
Jordan: Yeah, yeah, whatever. My terrific uncle Stewart. He was always my favorite.
Lawyer: You never met him.
Jordan: What do you know? Other than how to read. How much am I getting?
The lawyer looks at her and rolls his eyes before producing a document that he slides in front of her. He runs a pen alongside number on the paper and points at a line before tapping. Jordan’s eyes roll back into her head as she passes out and ralls off the chair on to her side. The lawyer runs over and snaps in front of her face.
Lawyer: Miss Majors? Miss Majors!?
Jordan jumps awake to see her two guards sitting opposite her in the back of a limo, a bag sitting on each side of them. She looks out the window and flashes a knowing smile as she considers what might come for her in the future.
Jordan: Boys… we’ve had a good run over just the last couple months. I’ve grown as a rich person and you both have grown as people who know someone with a lot of money. You both showed me how to be stronger in your own ways. Those silent ways. But we’re only beginning to make the strides we need to make to rule this company once and for all. Ah, here’s out stop coming up. Grab those bags of money men and let’s get going. It’s time to make more memories you lug heads. It’s time for me to make the world better, one damn dollar at a time.
Jordan cackles as she opens the door and steps out of the car and starts to walk toward a prominent building in Chicago. The scene fades out as her men open the door for her.
Lawyer: So, Kayla, is it?
Jordan: Uhh… what?
Lawyer: Your name? Is it Kayla? No, Karen.
Jordan: Umm.. Kylie.
The lawyer shifted in his seat and smiled as he looked at the girl. She had no confidence. She was a wreck, but he didn’t know anything about it. He was not aware the girl was just days from spending every thing she had left just to survive. She was busy trying to look like someone she wasn’t. She wanted to appear wealthy and confident. Instead she looked poor and broken, like her soul had been ripped out of her body and stomped on, then pushed back in before someone kicked her in the head. Well, maybe that wasn’t far from the truth after a lackluster few weeks of debuting in one of the world’s top wrestling companies.
Lawyer: Regardless, do you know your uncle? Stewart?
Jordan: I’ve heard of him. Sort of. I mean my mother mentioned him once or twice.
Lawyer: Yes, well, he was one of the world’s wealthiest men. He died recently and you probably didn’t even know it. It sounds like you’ve never met him or rarely heard of him. We advised him against this but, you see, he was quite positive this was the move to make.
Jordan: I’m sorry, I’m very confused.
Lawyer: Your uncle was a great investor of many things. Many products that became regular things. He hated his family. In fact, he never had a wife or children of his own. So when I say he hated his family. I mean his mother, and his sisters.
Jordan: I’m still not sure what’s happening. Am I in trouble for something?
Lawyer: Your uncle left in his will a stipulation that his entire worth transfer to a family member. And this one person can keep his fortune as long as they agree not to loan or give one penny of that money to another member of this family. He looked at his tree and found one person he believes to be an outlaw. One person whose life he wants to change forever. And that person… is you!
Jordan sat speechless as her mouth slowly dropped open.
Lawyer: I know this is a lot to take in and you’ll probably need a moment to process this so I’ll…
Jordan: I’m rich! I’m rich!! HA!!!
The lawyer watches as Jordan dances around his office, jumping up and down. The scene slowly fades out as an alarm blares and Jordan turns and silences the nasty noise from her phone. She looks at the lines created on the floor as the sun beams through the blinds and sits up as she yawns and smiles. That moment was just months ago, but she’s never stopped dreaming of it. She grabs her phone and swipes through a few apps before standing and glancing down at the girl in bed behind her, still asleep.
Jordan: Small basket, pfft.
Jordan scoffs as she grabs her robe and her phone and walks out on the balcony of her suite. One of her two guards appears with a cup of coffee and hands it to her as she sits down in a chair and looks out over the city. The security man says nothing as the other one shuffles into the room from behind and starts to wake the girl he’s charged with hustling out of the room to the small basket of goodies and an elevator ride off of the exclusive floor. Jordan takes a sip and smiles as she looks up to her guard.
Jordan: She was ok. Just a waste of my time. Could have been better. Besides, I’ve got my eyes elsewhere. You know, where the baskets won’t even be necessary.
Jordan paused and looked out at the city before taking another drink. She turns and looks up with a somewhat serious look.
Jordan: I hope everything on my calendar is situated? I have a lot of people I’m putting aside time for right now. All of them important. Sienna Swan has been texting me frequently. Bree Lancaster wants to do lunch soon. Let’s get that one in as soon as we can. She sat me up with that designer, Scott, and the parties last weekend were absolutely glorious. We spared no expense and I assure you it was very much worth it. I had a blast celebrating my birthday and my very first SCW win. Also, I know Laura Steinbeck called. She represents the Beauty Factory lot. I’d be a liar to say I’m not at least interested to hear her out and see what she has to say. Oh, and one more thing, can we see why Abigail hasn’t responded to any of my messages? I know it’s kind of her thing to be mysterious, but I’m way too intrigued to just let that one go silent.
Jordan smirks as she stands and hands her half empty cup to the guard who she was talking with and leaned out over the balcony to take in the cool air of the morning. She raises a brow as she looks back.
Jordan: You know, I have to admit I was kind of looking forward to some sort of memorable match at this Tabula Rasa show, but I understand why I’m in the position I’m in. It was, after all, my decision to take some time off and re invent who Jordan Majors is to these people. It was just a few months ago they were looking at me and they were laughing. I was a miserable failure that was trying way too hard to be the best, while hiding in my little corner and sticking to myself. Now I butt my way into conversations, I make myself known and I show them who I really am, and they don’t know how to react at all. This is not the Jordan Majors they thought they knew. Hell, even the commentary compared me to Bree. What an indescribable honor. But I’m not a clone at all. I know I’m new money. I’m not a fool to the fact that I don’t look good in high society walking around and flashing my bills as I wish. I walk around with two guards that could tear half the SCW locker room apart if they wanted to, if not more, and I remind everyone I see that I probably have more money than them. That I am better than them. People in our word are always about self-validation and comparing bank accounts and wallets and the items they keep in their garage or on their person. I just take that idea to the next level. I stay where I want, I drive what I want, I take the most beautiful women to bed with me, I buy jewels by the store, houses by the block and I will own a successful career with the same resources that have given me everything I want to date. But there will be obstacles…
Jordan shifts and walks back into the suite where the girl from her bed was now gone. She opens the closet and sifts through several outfits.
Jordan: I’m a team player, but I look at the group of people I’m teaming with at Tabula Rasa and I can’t help but sneer. I mean, really, one of these women is standing there and proclaiming herself the captain like she’s fighting alongside a bunch of nobody misfits that can’t carry a bucket of water across a room let alone share a ring with her. And she can think what she wants, honestly. But by the time she’s done sharing this ring with me, my ring no doubt, she will never again look down on me. She might think she’s the captain, but I’ll be the one making the game-winning shot that puts us on the winning side at this event. You can bank on it. I’m Jordan Majors and I have more than enough cash to put my money where my mouth is. There was a time when I walked into a match in this company and I pretended to have enough confidence in myself to achieve anything. Now I just know. I mean, look at the people in SCW that are suddenly willing to surround themselves around me. And the ones that are trying to avoid me? They can’t handle the swagger that I carry on Twitter let alone in the ring. I’m the best on our team and I will be the one that leads us to a victory. Don’t you agree, sweetie?
The guard standing near Jordan smiles and nods to her and receives a smile back from her before she grabs an outfit and starts to shoo him with her hand.
Jordan: Alright, now get out of here. I’ve got to get dressed to kill so I can thrill another person with the potential to make sure we end up where we really belong. The tip top of SCW. Oh, and don’t forget to grab the bigger duffle bag before we head out. We’re probably going to need it for this one…
We flash back to the lawyer’s office where Jordan is calming down and plops down into the chair in front of the desk.
Jordan: Wow! I mean holy… wow!!
Lawyer: Listen Jordan. There’s something you need to understand here. My firm and I will be evaluating what you’re doing with your finances and if there is any hint. Even a hint that you giving money to your mother… this will requires that we take that money back and donate it to a number of charities.
Jordan: Screw her and screw the charities. I’m spending this money the way Harold always wanted me to. On myself!
Lawyer: Harold? You mean Stewart?
Jordan: Yeah, yeah, whatever. My terrific uncle Stewart. He was always my favorite.
Lawyer: You never met him.
Jordan: What do you know? Other than how to read. How much am I getting?
The lawyer looks at her and rolls his eyes before producing a document that he slides in front of her. He runs a pen alongside number on the paper and points at a line before tapping. Jordan’s eyes roll back into her head as she passes out and ralls off the chair on to her side. The lawyer runs over and snaps in front of her face.
Lawyer: Miss Majors? Miss Majors!?
Jordan jumps awake to see her two guards sitting opposite her in the back of a limo, a bag sitting on each side of them. She looks out the window and flashes a knowing smile as she considers what might come for her in the future.
Jordan: Boys… we’ve had a good run over just the last couple months. I’ve grown as a rich person and you both have grown as people who know someone with a lot of money. You both showed me how to be stronger in your own ways. Those silent ways. But we’re only beginning to make the strides we need to make to rule this company once and for all. Ah, here’s out stop coming up. Grab those bags of money men and let’s get going. It’s time to make more memories you lug heads. It’s time for me to make the world better, one damn dollar at a time.
Jordan cackles as she opens the door and steps out of the car and starts to walk toward a prominent building in Chicago. The scene fades out as her men open the door for her.