04-17-2020, 09:25 PM
The Dark Side of the Sun
“Facing Facts”
Frankfut Prison III
Frankfurt, Germany
April 17th, 2020
2:05pm
“What happened?”
The platinum-blonde’s head lifted a little from its position, her mind having temporarily drifted a little to a sort of day-dreaming state – thoughts of the upcoming weekend fleeting through her head – to focus on the worried expression of the redhead who now stood in the fence-doorway entrance of the room, a guard having escorted her there. Emerald-green eyes were focused on one spot, and they did not move from the spot as the younger Frost woman took the necessary steps to join Selena in sitting at the table.
In truth, Selena had expected this kind of reaction, though for a second, due to her thoughts, she had forgotten about it. Seeing her wife staring at the scab of crusty blood on her forehead, however, put the memory back into the forefront of Selena’s head.
“Oh…” she shrugged. “Typical problems with the regulars.” She simply said. “You know me. Always pissing someone off.”
To be fair, it wasn’t as if Deanna was over-reacting over a simply cut. The expression of worry that came to the redhead’s face was nothing compared to what Selena had seen on her wife’s face when she had visited her after her “Empty Arena Match” with Xander Valentine. Now that had been a cause for absolute worry – the stitches and bruising alone…
“Sienna and her group.” Selena added, as if that was enough to explain – because, for the listening redhead, it actually was.
“How many?”
“Ah…” Looking away, Selena tried to recall the moment. “Five? No, six. Madison joined in to get some shots, too.”
A grim line formed across Deanna’s lips, a sad sigh, eventually, escaping them. “Do I even need to say it again?”
All the Snow Queen could do was offer a sad smile before shaking her head, leaning in to softly press her lips to Deanna’s forehead. “I know.”
And she did know, had practically memorized the routine of statements that her wife wanted to say:
”Why do you have to keep doing this?”
“Why can’t nothing be done?”
“What happens if you get REALLY hurt?”
“What happens…”
The questions would become more and more dire – more and more serious – and Selena would eventually not have an answer to them. The first two or three? Easily. She did it because it was what she had to do. Someone had to uphold the virtues of SCW. It was what she believed in. It was what she fought for. Typical things she would say in utmost honesty in a promo, not because Deanna was an opponent or anything, but because it was the honest truth. Still, she didn’t have an answer after that.
Simply put: she had no plan if something ‘worse’ happened. Up until the other day, she hadn’t received a beating like that since her war with Xander Valentine. And, to be honest, while six-on-one had been painful, it had just been an ambush mugging of sorts – stomping and such. It wasn’t like they had used weapons – aside from a microphone shot - or power-moves like Xander had. It was partly the reason why she had stopped Regan, her sister, from running into the ring. Because if she had – if if the Hellcat had entered – then it would have devolved into power moves, and not on the Snow Queen. They would have unleashed everything they could to keep Regan from competing in her match…
So Selena had taken it – taken the beating until it stopped.
Until it stopped…
Until it stopped…
_________________________________________
April 15th, 2020
Bud Walton Arena
Fayetteville, Arizona
11:04 pm
Damn cowards!
The platinum-blonde groaned as she lay on the makeshift mattress that made up the majority of ‘décor’ in the chosen backstage room that was for the medics and on-sight doctorial staff for SCW shows. Following the, in what only could be described as a mugging one would see in something like Grand Theft Auto, Selena had been taken by Regan and the others, who had mostly just watched for any more attacks before dispersing, to this room.
Everything hurts… she sighed as she lay there. She knew she had bruises, if the size eleven boots of Chris Cannon were to be believed. Or at least the heels worn by Sienna. But what hurt the most was her head, which now sported a nice cotton swab tapped to her forehead.
Glory Braddock, who had basically been quiet since Ace Marshall had beaten her at Retribution had re-emerged and targeted Selena and only Selena, interfering in the Snow Queen’s match with Maddy Steward. It was clear to anyone that had watched the previous week’s Breakdown episode that she was the person the Beauty Network had contacted. Of course, that pointed seemed inconsequential in the midst of having six people take the boots to you and then having the one initiating the attack blasting you in the head with a damn microphone.
It was way Selena was still back here, a solid hour or so after the attack even took place. Breakdown was over – or it was close to. She wanted to be watching Regan’s match! Watching her sister become Television Champion! After the heart to heart they had had on that plateau, it was all Selena could think about. Yes, Regan had dropped that resignation letter down into the abyss, but how many more times would she choose that route before she actually did submit such a letter? How many more times did things have to go horribly wrong before Regan called it career?
But no. She had to let her guard down for a second and be the kicking bag for an angry Beauty Network. Least I know what they’re calling themselves now. she mentally teased, as if the little bit of humor was going to make things better – it didn’t. The second the medics had seen the attack, they had set to work on all ‘concussion test’, which meant watching Selena for a solid hour to see if she exhibited any of the symptoms.
A bout of sudden noise caused her ears to perk up and she strained to listen, just like she had every other time she had heard something, trying to make out a word or a sentence – something that would tell her what had happened with the main-event. Other than determining that it was a bunch of people, nothing was discernable enough to give her an answer, and with no television in the room, she could only huff in frustration as her eyes settled on the hands of the clock hanging at the side wall by the closed door.
“How much longer?” she asked, pushing herself to sit up and not fall asleep.
“Just a bit.” Assured the male medic. “I’m feeling more confident that nothing is wrong.” The young man, probably only a few years older than Selena, turned his head to regard the Snow Queen, immediately seeing the swab on her head and awkwardly clearing his throat. “Concussion-wise, I mean.” He quickly corrected. “I’m feeling more confident that nothing is wrong concussion-wise.”
“Nice save.” Selena groaned as she laid her head against the wall.
In truth, she wasn’t worried about ‘revenge’ or whatever. She wasn’t like Beauty Network. Ambushing them wouldn’t do a damn thing but further push their delusions of martyrdom and complains of being ‘victims’ when in actuality, what Selena had predicted – SCW rising above their petty tactics – had come to pass. No, she wasn’t concerned about revenge on Glory or the rest of Sienna’s group. Sasha had paid her a visit and had informed her of the Snow Queen’s chance at Cold-Blooded. It would be her against Glory against Asher Hayes in a triple threat match. While the pairing was a bit odd, considering Asher and her had been on the same page and been victims of the Network in the last two weeks, it mattered very little to Selena. The important thing was that she was going to get her hands on Glory Braddock and that would be when the “Best in the World” got her comeuppance. In the ring, losing. What the Network seemed to hate more than anything. Being proven wrong. Being beaten.
Closing her eyes for a minute, Selena almost didn’t hear the metal door handle being shifted and turned, her eyes opening just as the door flew open and a ragged looking Hellcat poked her head in, eyes scanning the room until they settled on the Snow Queen sitting on the “bed”.
“Hey…” Regan, still in her wrestling attire smiled quietly before moving in, closing the door behind her. Instinctively, Selena moved further to the side of the bed against the wall so Regan could plop herself onto the mattress to, sitting on it with her legs to the side. “How are you feeling?”
“Are you kidding?!” Selena asked in disbelief. “What happened?! Did you win?! Did the Network get involved again?!”
Ignoring her, Regan leaned forward to observe the swab on Selena’s head, gently placing her thumb on the pale forehead near it. “Can’t believe they did six on one…”
“Oh for the love of…” Selena huffed before reaching up and ripping the bandage off. “See? Just a scratch. I’m fine! Now tell me, you monster!” again, she implored and, again, she was ignored, Regan turning her head to the medic that remained in the room.
“Is she okay? Any concussions?”
“No.” the medic assured, checking the clock and the watch on his wrist. “Just banged up. Nothing a bit of rest can’t-“
“I will not be ignored!” Whined the platinum-blonde as she pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet. With a firm hand, she spun the Hellcat around, glaring into her eyes with a mixture of concern and frustration. “DID. YOU. WIN?” she stressed each word.
Instead of an answer, Regan’s eyes finally settled on Selena’s before a knowing smile crossed her lips. Quickly, she hopped to the door and opened it, revealing Delilah and Mikalea standing there.
And in Mikalea’s hands, held up a little for Selena to see: was the Television Championship.
“Thank you!” Selena huffed, slamming the door shut before turning back to Regan. “Was that so hard?” she asked before embracing her sister tightly, arms wrapped around the Hellcat’s neck. “Stupid theatrics – you should be the one filming your promos in studios and whatever instead of the Stewards…”
“I’m sorry.” Regan laughed as she returned the embrace. “I needed a bit of fun after tonight and the past week.”
“At my expense, you meanie.” The platinum-blonde groaned before adding a little extra squeeze with her hug.
“I’m so proud of you.” She whispered before gently releasing the new Television champion. Part of her – most of her – felt nothing but elation for her sister, now only one title win away from joining her in the realm of 'Supreme Champion’. But a part of her, though initially small, refused to stay quiet as it whispered into the young Frost’s mind.
She’d Be Supreme Champion now if it weren’t for you.
Biting down on the side of her tongue hard, she clamped down on the thought, banishing it to the dark corners of her mind. She didn’t want to dampen this moment, least of all for Regan. Once more, that image of her holding that letter of resignation as she stood on the pier haunted the Snow Queen's mind. This championship could not have come at a more needed time. And if Regan could be successful this weekend now, using the momentum to topple Xander Valentine, perhaps Selena could banish the fear from her mind then and maybe the two of them could refocus on getting the tag team titles.
Turning her head to the attending medic, the pale woman gave a tilt of her head, her expression almost pleading. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, you can.” Answered the young man. “But I strongly urge you to take it easy for a few days. And pay close attention to any odd symptoms.”
“I will. I will.” Assured Selena as she gathered her bag that Mikalea had brought for her earlier while she waited for Regan to be called for her match, slinging the bag full of wrestling gear over her shoulder and feeling the strap against her leather jacket, which looked well with her gray shirt with purple snowflakes on the left side and denim jeans. Without another word, she reached out to pull the door open, immediately seeing the pair of young women, Mikalea and Delilah still standing there, a somewhat worried expression on both of their faces.
“We thought someone was getting hurt in there or something.”
“Nah.” Reagan teased, taking her new title and slinging it over her shoulder. “Selena just didn’t want anyone to see her being 'overly affectionate'.”
The Snow Queen rolled her eyes at the overjoyed Hellcat. “Oh yes. Free hugs for everyone. I could give Kelsai a run for her money.”
“Well!” exclaimed the young Delilah. “We’ve got a few days till the pay-per-view. Enough time to recover, yes?”
“Recover from what?” Selena asked, not sure the young rookie was referring to the headache the platinum-blonde felt.
“To celebrate!” Mikalea explained, as if it was the most obvious answer. “We order room service, raid the mini-fridge and binge Netflix and Hulu!”
Both Delilah and Mikalea could barely contain their excitement, the pair clearly waiting some fun time – which Selena could not blame them after all the rough weeks she and Regan had gone through with them as the spectators. To say that the Hellcat and Snow Queen had not been the best of company for others other than one another would not have been inaccurate.
But the idea of noise, drinking… it didn’t sit well with Selena. Not one part of it. The very idea of being near alcohol of any kind made her stomach queezy. And the dark thoughts in her mind… what if she got so tired she let something slip?
“Guys…” it was Regan’s voice that came out first. “I love the enthusiasm, but I think Selena had been through enough for tonight.” The young Hellcat stole a knowing glance at her sister-in-arms before continuing. “Why don’t you guys go ahead. I’m going to see her to her bus and then I’ll catch up with you.”
“Really?” Delilah asked, her gaze shifting to Selena with a bit of disappointment. “I mean… I guess you’ve had a rough night.” She gestured to the cut on Selena’s forehead.
“To say the least.” Mikalea added before taking the Television title from Regan. “Alright… get some sleep, Selena.” She offered before she and Delilah were making their way down the hall and out of sight.
With them gone, Selena released a long breath before reaching up to massage her temple with her free hand. “Thank you.” She whispered gratefully. “I think I’d just be a bit of a party-pooper tonight.”
“Hmmm.” Hummed Regan as she lead the way down the halls and towards the parking lot where Selena’s bus was located. Despite the Hellcat's high spirits, Selena could see her green eyes shooting left and right and up and down as they passed every door, every turn and every corner.
“I don’t think they are going to jump me again, Regan.” She whispered as they finally made their way outside, the warm night of Arizona hitting them full force, not so much a California girl like Regan, but Selena would have preferred it to be a few degrees down. “They made their point already.” She added bitterly.
“Sounds like all they did was piss you off.” Regan replied off-handedly, but Selena could tell it was more to comfort the Snow Queen. “Not very smart.”
“You speaking from experience?” came the teasing voice of Selena as she spied her luxury ‘Believe it!’ bus parked on the outskirts of the parking lot.
“Maybe.” Shrugged the new champion. “But I’ve also seen you pushed like that. Hell, I’m dealing with some of the backlash of that this weekend, remember?”
The platinum-blonde bit her lower lip, trying to stifle herself from saying the first thing that came into her head. The image of her friend being beaten down by Xander because he couldn’t handle another lose to a supposed ‘inferior opponent’. Was that even the right word? No… he had used ‘unworthy’ more often. As if the damn Executioner of SCW had a right to judge.
“I wish it was me fighting him.” She settled on saying. “Least you could focus on things more worth your time.”
“This is worth my time.” Regan chastised. “Just like what you’re doing is worth your time. Line’s gotta be drawn somehwere.”
Reaching out, the Hellcat pushed against the door of the bus a little, causing it to shift and open slightly, allowing the driver, Eric, to notice the pair and quickly pull the lever that opened it fully. “Hi Eric.” Regan offered. “Just dropping off Her Highness.” She jutted a thumb behind her towards Selena, who merely raised her hand to wave at Eric.
“Rough night?” Eric asked bluntly, not uncouth, but definitely without really thinking.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Selena sighed as Regan stepped into the bus, the Snow Queen following her.
“I’m just going to make sure she’s alright and then I’ll be out of your hair.” The Hellcat explained to the driver as Selena shuffled past her, making her way to the far back of the bus, where her bedroom was located. Opening the door and stepping inside, closing said door behind her, she immediately felt the cold air from the air conditioner that Eric had turned on just in that room.
Shrugging out of her coat and hanging it up, Selena immediately rubbed her now bare arms against the chill, welcoming it with a deep breath. A few moments later, she had picked out her nightgown, undid her braid to let her hair fall like a platinum waterfall down her back, undressed and brought her nightwear to the bathroom on the side. It was there that she was able to get an actual good look at herself for the first time.
And basically, aside from the red cut on her forehead, all she saw were bruises. Various sizes and colors from yellow to a tinge of purple and black. Turning on the spot, she spotted a few on her bare back, probably the darker ones were going to hurt in the morning.
A knock on the door disturbed her observations. “You okay in there, sis?”
“Just a minute.” Selena replied quickly, pulling the nightgown on over her head – a silky, magenta gown that left her entire collarbone, tops of her shoulders and just a bit of cleavage revealed, but flowed along her curves elegantly. The sleeves were connected just above the bust and were the same magenta color as the rest of the gown. “Alright.” Selena called out before grabbing a washcloth, turning the sink faucet on with cold water and using the two to wash her face. By the time she was done that activity, she looked up to see Regan standing in the doorway that lead to her bedroom, arms crossed over her chest.
“All good?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Selena nodded, tossing the washcloth in the hamper with her wrestling attire. “Sorry I can’t be more social tonight.”
The Hellcat gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “You’ll get the next one… Like when we win the tag-titles.”
There was a determined glare in her eyes, something that Selena was glad to see in her sister, but the uncertainty of everything the past week – she knew Regan was riding the emotional high of accomplishment, of something actually going her way for once. Selena did not have that – she wasn’t even sure if she ever would. She had failed over and over again since her war with Xander. Trios, the number one contender match, the tag-title match, and now she had just been a kicking/punching bag for the Beauty Factory, or whatever they were.
There are no titles in your near-future. her mind taunted. No rematches for ones you lost, no considerations for others like Regan deserved. You’re just dead weight…
Closing her eyes, she offered a soft smile to Regan before nodding her head. “Let’s hope soon.” Was all she said. She didn’t want to weigh her problems on her sister, especially now, and especially when she wasn’t so sure what she was frustrated about:
Was it that she never got a rematch for the titles she lost unlike so many others?
Was it because, despite being one of the main-event people in SCW – The Face of SCW – she was one of the wrestlers with the least title shot matches so far this year and in 2019?
Was it because Frozen Hell had to wait again and again?
She didn’t know if it was one of those three, all of them, or something different entirely, but, despite wanting to stand and fight for SCW, she could not see as bright a future in that moment as Regan could. All the Snow Queen could see was her letting her sister down again and again…
With a shake of her head, Selena shuffled past Regan, pulling the covers back to settle on the large bed. “Thank you for looking after me. And for coming out to help me.”
“Why are you thanking me?” Regan asked. “You would have done the same for me – cept you would have done something.”
“You did do something.” Selena corrected. “You stopped them until the others showed up.”
“I should have brought a chair and bashed their heads in!” the Hellcat growled, but Selena shook her head. She knew that such a thing was well within Regan’s capabilities. Hell, it part of her “pissed off mode”. But she had waved Regan away during the attack, signaling to her not to get in the ring and risk hurting herself before her title match.
“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt and were screwed out of another title match because of me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough for Regan to pick up on it.
“What do you mean?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
“Nothing.” Selena shrugged. “I’ll be alright now.” She added as she settled under the covers of her bed.
Giving a nod, the brunette moved a little to tuck the covers a little better over Selena. “Get some rest, sweetheart.” She gently ordered, leaning in to kiss Selena’s forehead (away from the cut). “I’ll see you on the weekend. Say hi to Deanna for me.”
The platinum-blonde gave a nod, but the second she closed her eyes – merely to blink – her mind was assailed with the thoughts she had held back. As Regan turned the light off, they gained even more power.
Thoughts of failure. Thoughts of being just a punching bag. Thoughts of never being a champion again as she was constantly overlooked. Thoughts of her sister being destroyed by the man that had scarred Selena’s eyebrow. Thoughts of Selena being helpless to stop whatever the Beauty Factory had in mind, not just for her and Asher, but Ace and Jake and James and who knew who else.
Failure…
Failure…
Failure…
Failure!
“Regan!” Selena called out on instinct, causing the Hellcat to stop at the door and turn around. Even in the dark, Selena could see the expression of worry on her best friend’s face. “Could…I mean… could you stay… just till I fall asleep?”
She could not believe how pitiful she sounded right now – though her min was sure to mock and laugh at herself all the while. What surprised her though was the patient smile Regan gave her before quietly shuffling to the other side of the bed and sitting herself on it, her back against the headrest. “Yeah…” she offered. “No problem.”
In the dark, Selena smiled at her sister before resting her head on the pillow. “Tell me what your plans are for the rest of the week or something.” She asked politely. “I don’t care what you want to talk about.”
With a laugh, Regan broke off into a spiel, discussing her plans for her match with Xander, plans for the “Pay-Per-View Weekend” coming up, how things were with Jay and Jennifer. Slowly, the toxic thoughts in Selena’s mind receded and she find the exhaustion of the night catching up with her, allowing her to drift off to a pleasant sleep, the pains of the night slowly leaving her behind…
_________________________________
A soft hand pressing itself into her cheek in a gentle caress brought her back into the present, sapphire eyes meeting emerald ones. She tried to offer her wife a soft smile, leaning in to press her forehead against Deanna’s. “I’m sorry.” She said automatically – how often had she said that in the last few days? It wasn’t like she had asked for a beating to occur. Still, she had all but invited it. What did she expect from people like Bree and Sienna and Glory? It wasn’t like this was unprecedented. Retribution, alone, was enough evidence of the kind of ‘tactics’ that group of harpies favoured.
“I know you are.” Deanna sighed before sitting back, crossing her arms over her chase. “Dammit.” She muttered under her breath with a huff, turning to look away from the platinum-blonde.
“What is it?” asked Selena, tilting her head in mild surprise. “I’m sorry if this frustrates you…” she started, gesturing towards her scab. “I didn’t want to cover it with makeup because I was worried it get infected and you’d probably think I was trying to hide it from you and-“
“No.” Deanna briskly held her hand up to take Selena’s to stop her tirade of an explanation. “It’s not that.” She stated. “Well, it is – sort of – I just…” she released another huff before shaking her head and gazing back at her wife. “It’s two things.”
Selena remained silent – because as if that was an explanation to anything. She, instead, lifted an eyebrow prompting her wife to continue.
“Great…” sighed Deanna with a grumble. “This is gonna put the focus square on me, don’t think this puts you off the hook!” she warned, pointing a finger at Selena – who, out of just pure randomness, nipped at it with her teeth, catching the small digit with a playful-non-painful bite. “Ow!” Deanna exclaimed out of surprise and not pain. “You…minx.” She settled for. “And that’s the first thing. You’re hurt – even only a little – and all I wish for right now is that it was the end of the month so I could just hold you.”
“Oh…well…I mean…” scooching over a little, Selena moved out of her bench-seat to sit beside Deanna. The guards – though Selena knew they were watching – said nothing and made no move to stop her. After nearly a year of Deanna being here – with nine more to go – and of Selena visiting regularly, there wasn’t a guard/employee around that didn’t know the two of them were married. By the time Selena had settled onto Deanna’s side of the table, a pair of arms were waiting for her, wrapping around the Snow Queen’s toned form, squeezing her gently, aggravating the bruises on her ribs, legs, arms and back from the stomping a little but Selena said nothing. No way she was going to say a word that would make her wife back away. She loved being held and holding her wife. It was a gift that had almost been taken from her entirely by fate – her greatest enemy it would seem. “See?” she offered Deanna. “You can still do that.”
“Not quite.” Deanna whispered. “Not the way I use to… in bed, I mean.”
The implication was obvious, and it made Selena sigh in a mixture of need and sadness. How many times had she been hurt from this business in the last three or so years of their marriage/relationship to the point where she hadn’t wanted to even get out of bed. The platinum-blonde couldn’t recall the number of days following a pay-per-view or an episode of Breakdown where she had awoken the next day too sore to move, or worse, and had just spent the day of travel in bed, blinds closed.
And what had Deanna done when she was with her those days? Made her meals, cleaned any and all cuts, iced any really bad bruises, maybe coaxed her into a bath or shower, and held her all the rest of the while, the redhead’s warm, naked form pressed gently against Selena’s cool skin. That last part was the greatest remedy, and with it being limited to once a month, it was more so craved by both.
Selena felt her wife’s head resting in the crook of her neck, and she held her tighter, feeling every curve of her wife’s body against her – her simply maroon grey t-shirt and bra barely a layer, same as Deanna’s blue prison-outfit.
“I can’t believe they don’t let you wear bras.” Selena teased, running a hand up and down Deanna’s back, feeling no obstacle or knot in her way that would suggest any kind of undergarment.
Against the wrestler’s skin, Deanna shook her head. “They had an incident where one inmate straggled another with a bra.”
Selena’s eyes widened, Deanna’s casual response causing her to lean back and stare at the redhead. “That…that wasn’t recently, was it?”
“No.” Deanna shook her head. “It was a couple of years ago. Shar told me. Something about the wiring in the bra acting like a good choke-collar.” Inadvertently, Deanna’s hand moved as she spoke to illustrate her point, reminding Selena of her wife’s earlier words before they had been distracted by the touch of one another.
“What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?” she asked. “You said you had something that was going to put the focus on you.”
Emerald-green eyes widened a little and another huff escaped Deanna. She clearly did not want to talk about this. “Actually, that’s the thing.” She sighed. “There was a big brawl yesterday. That’s why there’s a couple of extra guards.”
Selena’s mouth hung open. “A brawl?” she asked. “How?” her hands flew, running over Deanna’s body, checking for anything out of place. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”. She checked everywhere. Ribs, arms, back, even inadvertently coping a feel or two, causing Deanna to yelp in surprise.
“Easy!” she hissed, grasping her wife’s hands in hers tightly. “Much as I would love you to continue-“
“This isn’t the time for that kind of talk, Deanna!” Selena hissed back. “Are you-“
“I’m fine.” Deanna pressed, squeezing her wife’s hands assuredly. “I wasn’t hurt. Shar kept me in our cell and stood in the way until the guards were able to close them all automatically and then move in.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.” Deanna stated. “I don’t know how it all went down. Someone pissed off someone in Queenie’s group.”
Now that was a name Selena had heard in conversation with Deanna. Lateera Queenzel, aka Queenie, nicknamed so because she saw herself as the “Queen Bee” of the prison, was just as the nickname suggested. A big, black woman of power within the walls of Frankfurt Prison III. She had her own group, had her own or posse, she was the one that could had an ‘in’ with the guards and, thus, could get things that no one else could for inmates. The majority of people that weren’t in her little ‘group’ had two options: Stay out of her way or end up in ‘trouble’.
There were only few people that were exceptions to that. And one of them was Shar. Much like Queenie, Sharlene, or Shar, was set for a life sentence. And while she didn’t cause trouble, she was far different than Deanna was. Deanna was… well, Deanna. The bright, energetic, so clean she squeaks kind of girl (Selena could attest to the squeaking, especially if her wife was ticked or touched in the right way). Shar, on the other hand, was just quiet and… Selena had met her only a few times, same with Queenie, as she had travelled through the prison. While Queen was loud and seemed rather full of herself, Shar just watched and spoke directly. There was nothing intimidating in her words, but… Selena couldn’t exactly place it but, it was like she was facing a female version of Xander Valentine.
In SCW, the man didn’t say much. He didn’t have to. You just knew that if you picked a fight with him, you may win (as Selena had) but it was going to be a painful fight, and you weren’t going to just walk away from it unscathed. It made sense that if anyone was like that here, Queenie wouldn’t want anything to do with them, and Selena found herself grateful that someone like that was looking after her pet.
“That would explain the extra care to search me.” Selena finally spoke, gaining Deanna’s attention. The redhead merely nodded at that.
“I was wondering why you weren’t wearing your usual leather jacket today.” She stated.
“I did.” Selena sighed. “Thing is, when I got here, they said they were just recovering from a full-day lockdown. They said that while I could visit you, they would need me to hand over everything. I had to give them my phone, keys, jacket. Even had to take off my shoes for a bit and have my pockets searched.”
She had been fortunate that it was one of the female guards that had done the searching, but it had stayed in her mind as she had made her way through the prison, only leaving when Deanna had arrived and demanded to know what had happened to Selena regarding the cut on her head.
The younger, smaller woman gave a nod. “Yeah, it was pretty bad.”
“How bad?” Selena asked.
“I’m not sure, but apparently someone died.”
Again, Selena was agape. “H..how? How can you say that so casually?”
“It’s all I can do.” Deanna stated, as bravely as she could. “You want me to tell you that I lay in bed, hugging my pillow, just crying and wishing that you were here?” she asked, and in her eyes, Selena saw an emotion that she hadn’t seen in some time.
Anger. Hatred. Not necessarily at the platinum-blonde, but it was there.
“Well…I did.” Deanna admitted. “That’s all I did the entire lockdown. Shar left me alone and just watched everyone from our door. I just quietly cried because I…” she stopped for a minute and shook her head.
Quietly, Selena reached out, drawing her wife into her arms once again. She wanted to apologize again, but what could she do? She couldn’t be here every second of every day. She was doing all she could to get her wife out of this hell but it wasn’t like ‘getting the mail’ or ‘taking Oberon for a walk’. The laws of Germany had sentenced Deanna – found her guilty. And it would take something massive and miraculous to sway them to change their minds and set her free.
“At least you’re safe.” She whispered, resting a hand against the back of Deanna’s head.
“Yeah.” She heard her wife whisper. She wasn’t sure if the tone in Deanna’s voice was relief or a mixture of it and frustration. Either way, she couldn’t blame her. Her beloved didn’t belong here. She belonged in Manhattan, back in their ‘forever home’, with their children and dog.
She belongs with me. Like this. In my arms.
The two sat in silence as they were for several minutes, neither having something to say. Selena was grateful Deanna had told her what had happened regarding the lockdown and the reasons behind it. At the very least, though it had given her a bit of a panic attack for a few seconds as Deanna had explained, she could take comfort that her wife was being looked after as best as possible. Though, now, she had a thorough understanding of what her wife went through, worrying about the platinum-blonde in the world of SCW – more so now since Deanna had no way to access the happenings on in the federation due to her incarceration, except whatever Selena told/showed her.
“Ahem…”
The sound of a guard clearing his throat broke the silence, causing Selena to release Deanna and turn her head a little to regard the uniform-wearing officer.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Frost.” She wasn’t sure which woman he was regarding, so she kept quiet. “But you have another guest.”
It was Deanna’s turn to be surprised with Selena, the pair turning to one another in confusion.
“Did you bring the children?” Deanna asked.
“No.” Selena shook her head. “They’re back at the castle.”
Turning her back to the guard, Deanna tilted her head, offering him a polite smile. “Umm… are you sure they’re here to see me?”
“Yes.” Replied the guard. “They specifically asked for Deanna Frost. We said you were in the middle of a visit from your wife and they seemed more eager to see you both. Said your wife would understand?”
Again, Deanna’s eyes were back on Selena, causing the Snow Queen to, in return, shift her gaze back to Deanna. “I honestly don’t know what he’s talking about.” She stated honestly.
For a moment, Deanna said nothing before turning her head back towards the guard. “By all means, send them in… I mean…” she corrected herself. “I mean, if that’s okay, I’ll see them.”
The guard gave a nod before returning to the doorway and speaking to another guard that was standing there, this one shorter than the other. The short guard gave a curt nod and was out of sight for a few minutes. Meanwhile, Selena’s hands found Deanna’s, the couple clutching onto one another as subtly as they could – they always were stronger standing united, and they both knew that.
A few minutes passed and the shorter guard returned, but not alone, as the new “guest” marched into the room. It took Selena only a few seconds to recognize the woman, but before she could react – before she could speak – the guest cut her off.
“Good to hear that you’re both here.” The woman replied, marching the necessary spaces to the table the Frost wives sat, choosing to sit on the opposite side of it, where Selena had originally sat but now sat beside her wife. “Makes things a lot easier, I think.”
“What are you doing here?!” Selena asked with a hiss, not wanting to cause a scene and, thus, trouble for her wife. “I thought we were done here.”
“So did I.” the brunette hissed back before turning her gaze over to Deanna. “Deanna.” She breathed out, placing her manicured hands onto the table and interlocking her own fingers. “Can’t believe this is our first time meeting face to face.”
“I’m…I’m sorry…” Deanna spoke slowly, hesitantly, with the utmost caution. “I don’t-“ her gaze shot between the woman and Selena, who had not taken her eyes off the brunette. “Who are you?”
“Talia Scythe.” The woman replied briskly. “And it seems that I am your new lawyer.”
_________________________________________________
The camera fades in to reveal the Snow Queen, Selena Frost, sitting at a desk in a rather comfy-looking leather chair. Her hair is in its iconic braid and she is wearing a sapphire-blue sweater that seems to make her sapphire eyes pop. With a soft smile, she gazes into the camera, to the person she knows is watching.
Hello Asher... she offers before holding up a hand reassuringly. Don't worry, this isn't something crazy like a 'death threat' or 'warning' or whatever. This is just a private letter for you – or video, I guess - she bites her lower lip, as if unsure of something. Well, actually, sometimes I record these and sometimes I write them on a blog – so 'letter' or 'address', you can call it whatever you want.
For me, though, this is a chance to clear the air a little. For the past few weeks, you and I have been so thrown in the trenches, it would seem, that we haven't really just... I don't know... talked about it? I guess you can consider this my attempt to fix that.
With a smile, she smooths out the wrinkles in her jeans, though there are none, before she continues. Now, before I say anything further about what is to come, I want to say 'thank you' for coming down to the ring last Breakdown and – well, there isn't another way to say it – you and the others put the brakes to Glory and the Beauty Factory's attack. You saved me and... if Regan had gotten in that ring, I don't know if she would have been able to achieve her destiny, bringing her dream of being Supreme Champion one step closer – that's the most important thing for me, Asher. Not only did you save me, you prevented things from possibly becoming so much worse, not just for me but for someone that I care so much for. So, thank you.
Taking a deep breath, the Snow Queen releases it in a soft exhale. But, I guess now I need to address the elephant in the room, don't I? You and I were teasing about it on Twitter. That we were hoping to be teammates against the Beauty Factory? Stick it to them, sort of thing, right? I'll admit, that would have been fun, to team with you, Asher, but here we are, in a triple threat match against Glory Braddock – the supposed 'hired hand' of Beauty Factory, or should we go with the whole “The Best in the World” thing that she can't seem to go a tweet without repeating? A huff comes from the Snow Queen.
As you can imagine, Asher, I am looking forward to getting my hands on her more than I can say, especially after the events of last Breakdown. And, to be honest, I can't say that I'm not excited at this little twist in what we believed. I am excited. A smile breaks across Selena's face. Facing Madison Steward, even if the match didn't end as I wanted it to – it lit a fire under me, Asher. It truly did! Because all I was supposed to be – all that Glory will see me as is someone to be used to spread her message. That's all she will see me as and that is all she will see you as.
And I am excited because I know we are so much more than that!
With a shake of her head and a fiddling of her lower lip with her teeth for a second, Selena gathers her thoughts before continuing. You are so much more than that, Asher! You think I don't recall how you beat my sister, Regan, to become Adrenaline champion? Ever since then, I have been waiting to face you in a match, not for revenge, mind you, but because I know how much that title meant to Regan and how much she put her heart and soul into retaining it and being an amazing champion!
And for you, I don't care if it was luck or skill or whatever people call it – I don't care – the fact that you did it... it intrigues me, Asher. It makes me want to test my abilities against yours as a wrestler and see which of us is better...
But fate is not so kind. Selena shakes her head. I wish it were, Asher. I wish we were wrestling against one another under better circumstances, but, as I said, this is something more than just a 'standard wrestling match' and there's so much more at stake here.
First: it's a triple threat. That means no disqualifications. That means Glory and the Beauty Factory can do whatever the hell they want to try and 'leave their message'. They can do what they tried to do to you two weeks ago or to me a few days ago. They can, Asher... and there's nothing in the rules that would stop them from doing so.
A moment passes before the Snow Queen looks away for a moment, drumming her fingers on the desk.
I'm guessing at this point, you're thinking that I'm about to make you an offer of some kind. Offer up some kind of plan of us “working together” to deal with Glory before we face each other. she takes a deep breath. But that's not an offer I can make, Asher. That's not an offer I will make.
Yes, you and I could team up and we could make Glory regret what she's done and what the Factory is done – ambush her like they did us...
But how does that make us any different than them if we do, Asher? Selena tilts her head, shaking it a little, her braid moving a bit with her movement. If we use their tactics just to get ahead in this match, then how are we any better than them? How are we any better than Sienna and Chris, who tried to buy their way to the World Championship? How are we different than Xiomara, who hides behind her job as a bodyguard so she can do whatever she wants with no consequences? How are we different than Bree Lancaster, who uses tricks and sneak attacks to get ahead and lies about her failings with delusional cries of “I LET HER WIN!”? More than all of that, how are we different that Glory? Using such tactics to push her 'nickname' of “Best in the World” when you and I both know that such a thing isn't proven like that.
Selena's eyes narrow a little. You didn't prove you could beat Regan by buying thugs or attacking from behind. You brought the fight and you never relented. You never gave up. That, Asher... she takes a deep breath. That is what I am going to ask of you for this match.
She is silent for a moment, allowing her words to settle, taking her braid and flicking it behind her back.
You and I, Asher? We are never going to convince the Beauty Factory that we are more than “tools for messages”. We aren't. If Ace Marshall beating Glory cleanly at Retribution wasn't enough for her to get off her high-horse with her proclamations, then no matter what happens, they will be back on Twitter with some flimsy excuse before shoving their monikers down our throats once again.
But do you remember Retribution? she raises an eyebrow. A match bought. All the odds in the favour of the Beauty Factory – a variable four or five on one, depending on who you ask – promises and vows made by Sienna and Chris Cannon, touting over our heads for weeks and weeks – ill-gotten gains from harassing a mother and offering her child to get that Trios contract...
And they failed, Ash. A satisfied smile breaks across Selena's face. All the money and power and associates they could get, Asher, and they failed to get the SCW World title! Do you remember what happened after that? There wasn't an excuse they could make, and they made several. There wasn't a promise they could throw at the SCW Universe. There wasn't a damn thing they could do or say...
They had failed and the world knew it. Not only did they look the fools, but no one – not a soul outside their group – believed in them.
That... she lifts a finger, her voice trailing off for a moment. That is how SCW will win this war, Asher. Not by 'convincing' Beauty Factory, but by proving them wrong over and over again – reducing their words and lies to just that. I've seen it happen in my time here. Monarchy, Imperium, The Coalition, New Eden, Infamous - all those people that thought they were bigger than SCW. Thought they were the 'only important stars of SCW'. Thought that they were SCW.
They all fell. Do you know why, Asher? An excited, kind smile breaks across Selena's face. Because you and I both know who SCW is. SCW is you. SCW is me. SCW is all of those people that cheered you when you held that Adrenaline title high. SCW is all those people that booed and applauded us each and every time we entered that ring. SCW is every single person that is believing in this federation. And no wrestler, stable, group or whatever is bigger or better than them. Not by a long shot. Not you. Not me, and sure as hell, not Glory.
So at Cold-Blooded, Asher, I am not asking you to “team with me”. I'm not asking you to “plan with me”. I am not asking you “seek revenge” or “eliminate Glory”. No! What I am asking you, Asher, is when you and I are in that ring at New Orleans, we show that we are part of SCW. We show Glory – we show one another – that we are SCW, just like all of the people watching!
And we do that, Asher, by doing what we've done the last few weeks of being attacked by that damned Factory. We keep fighting! We keep going! We keep getting back up!
Vigorously, Selena slams her fist onto the table, making a thud sound as she does. I want to face that kind of Asher Hayes, sir! I want to face the man that will keep getting up just like I will! I want to beat the man that keeps getting up – the man that I believe you are, Asher! And, if it comes down to it and I have to lose, I want to lose to such a person as that, Asher.
Glory is not that kind of person. Selena shakes her head. You know it and I know it. Because if she was, she wouldn't need to attack me from behind. She wouldn't need to blast me in the head with a microphone. She wouldn't need Sienna or Chris or Xiomara or anyone – she'd just be that good. She'd just be “The Best in the World”.
Selena sits back in her chair, the Snow Queen, crossing her hands and interlocking her fingers. I promise you, Ash, that I won't stop getting up, no matter what is thrown at me. I promise you that I will give everything I have to win this match and further expose the Beauty Factory for the liars and cowards they are. I will continue what was done at Retribution and show the difference between their words – their opinions of being SCW – and who SCW truly is. Selena smiles knowingly.
Best bring your A game, Asher, because you and I will be in for the fight of our lives. And if Glory won't give it to us – I can assure you that I will be more than up to that task...
Believe it, Asher. the platinum-blonde salutes with her hand. Because I am done being knocked down this week.
The camera fades on the Snow Queen before going entirely to black.
“Facing Facts”
Frankfut Prison III
Frankfurt, Germany
April 17th, 2020
2:05pm
“What happened?”
The platinum-blonde’s head lifted a little from its position, her mind having temporarily drifted a little to a sort of day-dreaming state – thoughts of the upcoming weekend fleeting through her head – to focus on the worried expression of the redhead who now stood in the fence-doorway entrance of the room, a guard having escorted her there. Emerald-green eyes were focused on one spot, and they did not move from the spot as the younger Frost woman took the necessary steps to join Selena in sitting at the table.
In truth, Selena had expected this kind of reaction, though for a second, due to her thoughts, she had forgotten about it. Seeing her wife staring at the scab of crusty blood on her forehead, however, put the memory back into the forefront of Selena’s head.
“Oh…” she shrugged. “Typical problems with the regulars.” She simply said. “You know me. Always pissing someone off.”
To be fair, it wasn’t as if Deanna was over-reacting over a simply cut. The expression of worry that came to the redhead’s face was nothing compared to what Selena had seen on her wife’s face when she had visited her after her “Empty Arena Match” with Xander Valentine. Now that had been a cause for absolute worry – the stitches and bruising alone…
“Sienna and her group.” Selena added, as if that was enough to explain – because, for the listening redhead, it actually was.
“How many?”
“Ah…” Looking away, Selena tried to recall the moment. “Five? No, six. Madison joined in to get some shots, too.”
A grim line formed across Deanna’s lips, a sad sigh, eventually, escaping them. “Do I even need to say it again?”
All the Snow Queen could do was offer a sad smile before shaking her head, leaning in to softly press her lips to Deanna’s forehead. “I know.”
And she did know, had practically memorized the routine of statements that her wife wanted to say:
”Why do you have to keep doing this?”
“Why can’t nothing be done?”
“What happens if you get REALLY hurt?”
“What happens…”
The questions would become more and more dire – more and more serious – and Selena would eventually not have an answer to them. The first two or three? Easily. She did it because it was what she had to do. Someone had to uphold the virtues of SCW. It was what she believed in. It was what she fought for. Typical things she would say in utmost honesty in a promo, not because Deanna was an opponent or anything, but because it was the honest truth. Still, she didn’t have an answer after that.
Simply put: she had no plan if something ‘worse’ happened. Up until the other day, she hadn’t received a beating like that since her war with Xander Valentine. And, to be honest, while six-on-one had been painful, it had just been an ambush mugging of sorts – stomping and such. It wasn’t like they had used weapons – aside from a microphone shot - or power-moves like Xander had. It was partly the reason why she had stopped Regan, her sister, from running into the ring. Because if she had – if if the Hellcat had entered – then it would have devolved into power moves, and not on the Snow Queen. They would have unleashed everything they could to keep Regan from competing in her match…
So Selena had taken it – taken the beating until it stopped.
Until it stopped…
Until it stopped…
_________________________________________
April 15th, 2020
Bud Walton Arena
Fayetteville, Arizona
11:04 pm
Damn cowards!
The platinum-blonde groaned as she lay on the makeshift mattress that made up the majority of ‘décor’ in the chosen backstage room that was for the medics and on-sight doctorial staff for SCW shows. Following the, in what only could be described as a mugging one would see in something like Grand Theft Auto, Selena had been taken by Regan and the others, who had mostly just watched for any more attacks before dispersing, to this room.
Everything hurts… she sighed as she lay there. She knew she had bruises, if the size eleven boots of Chris Cannon were to be believed. Or at least the heels worn by Sienna. But what hurt the most was her head, which now sported a nice cotton swab tapped to her forehead.
Glory Braddock, who had basically been quiet since Ace Marshall had beaten her at Retribution had re-emerged and targeted Selena and only Selena, interfering in the Snow Queen’s match with Maddy Steward. It was clear to anyone that had watched the previous week’s Breakdown episode that she was the person the Beauty Network had contacted. Of course, that pointed seemed inconsequential in the midst of having six people take the boots to you and then having the one initiating the attack blasting you in the head with a damn microphone.
It was way Selena was still back here, a solid hour or so after the attack even took place. Breakdown was over – or it was close to. She wanted to be watching Regan’s match! Watching her sister become Television Champion! After the heart to heart they had had on that plateau, it was all Selena could think about. Yes, Regan had dropped that resignation letter down into the abyss, but how many more times would she choose that route before she actually did submit such a letter? How many more times did things have to go horribly wrong before Regan called it career?
But no. She had to let her guard down for a second and be the kicking bag for an angry Beauty Network. Least I know what they’re calling themselves now. she mentally teased, as if the little bit of humor was going to make things better – it didn’t. The second the medics had seen the attack, they had set to work on all ‘concussion test’, which meant watching Selena for a solid hour to see if she exhibited any of the symptoms.
A bout of sudden noise caused her ears to perk up and she strained to listen, just like she had every other time she had heard something, trying to make out a word or a sentence – something that would tell her what had happened with the main-event. Other than determining that it was a bunch of people, nothing was discernable enough to give her an answer, and with no television in the room, she could only huff in frustration as her eyes settled on the hands of the clock hanging at the side wall by the closed door.
“How much longer?” she asked, pushing herself to sit up and not fall asleep.
“Just a bit.” Assured the male medic. “I’m feeling more confident that nothing is wrong.” The young man, probably only a few years older than Selena, turned his head to regard the Snow Queen, immediately seeing the swab on her head and awkwardly clearing his throat. “Concussion-wise, I mean.” He quickly corrected. “I’m feeling more confident that nothing is wrong concussion-wise.”
“Nice save.” Selena groaned as she laid her head against the wall.
In truth, she wasn’t worried about ‘revenge’ or whatever. She wasn’t like Beauty Network. Ambushing them wouldn’t do a damn thing but further push their delusions of martyrdom and complains of being ‘victims’ when in actuality, what Selena had predicted – SCW rising above their petty tactics – had come to pass. No, she wasn’t concerned about revenge on Glory or the rest of Sienna’s group. Sasha had paid her a visit and had informed her of the Snow Queen’s chance at Cold-Blooded. It would be her against Glory against Asher Hayes in a triple threat match. While the pairing was a bit odd, considering Asher and her had been on the same page and been victims of the Network in the last two weeks, it mattered very little to Selena. The important thing was that she was going to get her hands on Glory Braddock and that would be when the “Best in the World” got her comeuppance. In the ring, losing. What the Network seemed to hate more than anything. Being proven wrong. Being beaten.
Closing her eyes for a minute, Selena almost didn’t hear the metal door handle being shifted and turned, her eyes opening just as the door flew open and a ragged looking Hellcat poked her head in, eyes scanning the room until they settled on the Snow Queen sitting on the “bed”.
“Hey…” Regan, still in her wrestling attire smiled quietly before moving in, closing the door behind her. Instinctively, Selena moved further to the side of the bed against the wall so Regan could plop herself onto the mattress to, sitting on it with her legs to the side. “How are you feeling?”
“Are you kidding?!” Selena asked in disbelief. “What happened?! Did you win?! Did the Network get involved again?!”
Ignoring her, Regan leaned forward to observe the swab on Selena’s head, gently placing her thumb on the pale forehead near it. “Can’t believe they did six on one…”
“Oh for the love of…” Selena huffed before reaching up and ripping the bandage off. “See? Just a scratch. I’m fine! Now tell me, you monster!” again, she implored and, again, she was ignored, Regan turning her head to the medic that remained in the room.
“Is she okay? Any concussions?”
“No.” the medic assured, checking the clock and the watch on his wrist. “Just banged up. Nothing a bit of rest can’t-“
“I will not be ignored!” Whined the platinum-blonde as she pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet. With a firm hand, she spun the Hellcat around, glaring into her eyes with a mixture of concern and frustration. “DID. YOU. WIN?” she stressed each word.
Instead of an answer, Regan’s eyes finally settled on Selena’s before a knowing smile crossed her lips. Quickly, she hopped to the door and opened it, revealing Delilah and Mikalea standing there.
And in Mikalea’s hands, held up a little for Selena to see: was the Television Championship.
“Thank you!” Selena huffed, slamming the door shut before turning back to Regan. “Was that so hard?” she asked before embracing her sister tightly, arms wrapped around the Hellcat’s neck. “Stupid theatrics – you should be the one filming your promos in studios and whatever instead of the Stewards…”
“I’m sorry.” Regan laughed as she returned the embrace. “I needed a bit of fun after tonight and the past week.”
“At my expense, you meanie.” The platinum-blonde groaned before adding a little extra squeeze with her hug.
“I’m so proud of you.” She whispered before gently releasing the new Television champion. Part of her – most of her – felt nothing but elation for her sister, now only one title win away from joining her in the realm of 'Supreme Champion’. But a part of her, though initially small, refused to stay quiet as it whispered into the young Frost’s mind.
She’d Be Supreme Champion now if it weren’t for you.
Biting down on the side of her tongue hard, she clamped down on the thought, banishing it to the dark corners of her mind. She didn’t want to dampen this moment, least of all for Regan. Once more, that image of her holding that letter of resignation as she stood on the pier haunted the Snow Queen's mind. This championship could not have come at a more needed time. And if Regan could be successful this weekend now, using the momentum to topple Xander Valentine, perhaps Selena could banish the fear from her mind then and maybe the two of them could refocus on getting the tag team titles.
Turning her head to the attending medic, the pale woman gave a tilt of her head, her expression almost pleading. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, you can.” Answered the young man. “But I strongly urge you to take it easy for a few days. And pay close attention to any odd symptoms.”
“I will. I will.” Assured Selena as she gathered her bag that Mikalea had brought for her earlier while she waited for Regan to be called for her match, slinging the bag full of wrestling gear over her shoulder and feeling the strap against her leather jacket, which looked well with her gray shirt with purple snowflakes on the left side and denim jeans. Without another word, she reached out to pull the door open, immediately seeing the pair of young women, Mikalea and Delilah still standing there, a somewhat worried expression on both of their faces.
“We thought someone was getting hurt in there or something.”
“Nah.” Reagan teased, taking her new title and slinging it over her shoulder. “Selena just didn’t want anyone to see her being 'overly affectionate'.”
The Snow Queen rolled her eyes at the overjoyed Hellcat. “Oh yes. Free hugs for everyone. I could give Kelsai a run for her money.”
“Well!” exclaimed the young Delilah. “We’ve got a few days till the pay-per-view. Enough time to recover, yes?”
“Recover from what?” Selena asked, not sure the young rookie was referring to the headache the platinum-blonde felt.
“To celebrate!” Mikalea explained, as if it was the most obvious answer. “We order room service, raid the mini-fridge and binge Netflix and Hulu!”
Both Delilah and Mikalea could barely contain their excitement, the pair clearly waiting some fun time – which Selena could not blame them after all the rough weeks she and Regan had gone through with them as the spectators. To say that the Hellcat and Snow Queen had not been the best of company for others other than one another would not have been inaccurate.
But the idea of noise, drinking… it didn’t sit well with Selena. Not one part of it. The very idea of being near alcohol of any kind made her stomach queezy. And the dark thoughts in her mind… what if she got so tired she let something slip?
“Guys…” it was Regan’s voice that came out first. “I love the enthusiasm, but I think Selena had been through enough for tonight.” The young Hellcat stole a knowing glance at her sister-in-arms before continuing. “Why don’t you guys go ahead. I’m going to see her to her bus and then I’ll catch up with you.”
“Really?” Delilah asked, her gaze shifting to Selena with a bit of disappointment. “I mean… I guess you’ve had a rough night.” She gestured to the cut on Selena’s forehead.
“To say the least.” Mikalea added before taking the Television title from Regan. “Alright… get some sleep, Selena.” She offered before she and Delilah were making their way down the hall and out of sight.
With them gone, Selena released a long breath before reaching up to massage her temple with her free hand. “Thank you.” She whispered gratefully. “I think I’d just be a bit of a party-pooper tonight.”
“Hmmm.” Hummed Regan as she lead the way down the halls and towards the parking lot where Selena’s bus was located. Despite the Hellcat's high spirits, Selena could see her green eyes shooting left and right and up and down as they passed every door, every turn and every corner.
“I don’t think they are going to jump me again, Regan.” She whispered as they finally made their way outside, the warm night of Arizona hitting them full force, not so much a California girl like Regan, but Selena would have preferred it to be a few degrees down. “They made their point already.” She added bitterly.
“Sounds like all they did was piss you off.” Regan replied off-handedly, but Selena could tell it was more to comfort the Snow Queen. “Not very smart.”
“You speaking from experience?” came the teasing voice of Selena as she spied her luxury ‘Believe it!’ bus parked on the outskirts of the parking lot.
“Maybe.” Shrugged the new champion. “But I’ve also seen you pushed like that. Hell, I’m dealing with some of the backlash of that this weekend, remember?”
The platinum-blonde bit her lower lip, trying to stifle herself from saying the first thing that came into her head. The image of her friend being beaten down by Xander because he couldn’t handle another lose to a supposed ‘inferior opponent’. Was that even the right word? No… he had used ‘unworthy’ more often. As if the damn Executioner of SCW had a right to judge.
“I wish it was me fighting him.” She settled on saying. “Least you could focus on things more worth your time.”
“This is worth my time.” Regan chastised. “Just like what you’re doing is worth your time. Line’s gotta be drawn somehwere.”
Reaching out, the Hellcat pushed against the door of the bus a little, causing it to shift and open slightly, allowing the driver, Eric, to notice the pair and quickly pull the lever that opened it fully. “Hi Eric.” Regan offered. “Just dropping off Her Highness.” She jutted a thumb behind her towards Selena, who merely raised her hand to wave at Eric.
“Rough night?” Eric asked bluntly, not uncouth, but definitely without really thinking.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Selena sighed as Regan stepped into the bus, the Snow Queen following her.
“I’m just going to make sure she’s alright and then I’ll be out of your hair.” The Hellcat explained to the driver as Selena shuffled past her, making her way to the far back of the bus, where her bedroom was located. Opening the door and stepping inside, closing said door behind her, she immediately felt the cold air from the air conditioner that Eric had turned on just in that room.
Shrugging out of her coat and hanging it up, Selena immediately rubbed her now bare arms against the chill, welcoming it with a deep breath. A few moments later, she had picked out her nightgown, undid her braid to let her hair fall like a platinum waterfall down her back, undressed and brought her nightwear to the bathroom on the side. It was there that she was able to get an actual good look at herself for the first time.
And basically, aside from the red cut on her forehead, all she saw were bruises. Various sizes and colors from yellow to a tinge of purple and black. Turning on the spot, she spotted a few on her bare back, probably the darker ones were going to hurt in the morning.
A knock on the door disturbed her observations. “You okay in there, sis?”
“Just a minute.” Selena replied quickly, pulling the nightgown on over her head – a silky, magenta gown that left her entire collarbone, tops of her shoulders and just a bit of cleavage revealed, but flowed along her curves elegantly. The sleeves were connected just above the bust and were the same magenta color as the rest of the gown. “Alright.” Selena called out before grabbing a washcloth, turning the sink faucet on with cold water and using the two to wash her face. By the time she was done that activity, she looked up to see Regan standing in the doorway that lead to her bedroom, arms crossed over her chest.
“All good?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Selena nodded, tossing the washcloth in the hamper with her wrestling attire. “Sorry I can’t be more social tonight.”
The Hellcat gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “You’ll get the next one… Like when we win the tag-titles.”
There was a determined glare in her eyes, something that Selena was glad to see in her sister, but the uncertainty of everything the past week – she knew Regan was riding the emotional high of accomplishment, of something actually going her way for once. Selena did not have that – she wasn’t even sure if she ever would. She had failed over and over again since her war with Xander. Trios, the number one contender match, the tag-title match, and now she had just been a kicking/punching bag for the Beauty Factory, or whatever they were.
There are no titles in your near-future. her mind taunted. No rematches for ones you lost, no considerations for others like Regan deserved. You’re just dead weight…
Closing her eyes, she offered a soft smile to Regan before nodding her head. “Let’s hope soon.” Was all she said. She didn’t want to weigh her problems on her sister, especially now, and especially when she wasn’t so sure what she was frustrated about:
Was it that she never got a rematch for the titles she lost unlike so many others?
Was it because, despite being one of the main-event people in SCW – The Face of SCW – she was one of the wrestlers with the least title shot matches so far this year and in 2019?
Was it because Frozen Hell had to wait again and again?
She didn’t know if it was one of those three, all of them, or something different entirely, but, despite wanting to stand and fight for SCW, she could not see as bright a future in that moment as Regan could. All the Snow Queen could see was her letting her sister down again and again…
With a shake of her head, Selena shuffled past Regan, pulling the covers back to settle on the large bed. “Thank you for looking after me. And for coming out to help me.”
“Why are you thanking me?” Regan asked. “You would have done the same for me – cept you would have done something.”
“You did do something.” Selena corrected. “You stopped them until the others showed up.”
“I should have brought a chair and bashed their heads in!” the Hellcat growled, but Selena shook her head. She knew that such a thing was well within Regan’s capabilities. Hell, it part of her “pissed off mode”. But she had waved Regan away during the attack, signaling to her not to get in the ring and risk hurting herself before her title match.
“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt and were screwed out of another title match because of me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough for Regan to pick up on it.
“What do you mean?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
“Nothing.” Selena shrugged. “I’ll be alright now.” She added as she settled under the covers of her bed.
Giving a nod, the brunette moved a little to tuck the covers a little better over Selena. “Get some rest, sweetheart.” She gently ordered, leaning in to kiss Selena’s forehead (away from the cut). “I’ll see you on the weekend. Say hi to Deanna for me.”
The platinum-blonde gave a nod, but the second she closed her eyes – merely to blink – her mind was assailed with the thoughts she had held back. As Regan turned the light off, they gained even more power.
Thoughts of failure. Thoughts of being just a punching bag. Thoughts of never being a champion again as she was constantly overlooked. Thoughts of her sister being destroyed by the man that had scarred Selena’s eyebrow. Thoughts of Selena being helpless to stop whatever the Beauty Factory had in mind, not just for her and Asher, but Ace and Jake and James and who knew who else.
Failure…
Failure…
Failure…
Failure!
“Regan!” Selena called out on instinct, causing the Hellcat to stop at the door and turn around. Even in the dark, Selena could see the expression of worry on her best friend’s face. “Could…I mean… could you stay… just till I fall asleep?”
She could not believe how pitiful she sounded right now – though her min was sure to mock and laugh at herself all the while. What surprised her though was the patient smile Regan gave her before quietly shuffling to the other side of the bed and sitting herself on it, her back against the headrest. “Yeah…” she offered. “No problem.”
In the dark, Selena smiled at her sister before resting her head on the pillow. “Tell me what your plans are for the rest of the week or something.” She asked politely. “I don’t care what you want to talk about.”
With a laugh, Regan broke off into a spiel, discussing her plans for her match with Xander, plans for the “Pay-Per-View Weekend” coming up, how things were with Jay and Jennifer. Slowly, the toxic thoughts in Selena’s mind receded and she find the exhaustion of the night catching up with her, allowing her to drift off to a pleasant sleep, the pains of the night slowly leaving her behind…
_________________________________
A soft hand pressing itself into her cheek in a gentle caress brought her back into the present, sapphire eyes meeting emerald ones. She tried to offer her wife a soft smile, leaning in to press her forehead against Deanna’s. “I’m sorry.” She said automatically – how often had she said that in the last few days? It wasn’t like she had asked for a beating to occur. Still, she had all but invited it. What did she expect from people like Bree and Sienna and Glory? It wasn’t like this was unprecedented. Retribution, alone, was enough evidence of the kind of ‘tactics’ that group of harpies favoured.
“I know you are.” Deanna sighed before sitting back, crossing her arms over her chase. “Dammit.” She muttered under her breath with a huff, turning to look away from the platinum-blonde.
“What is it?” asked Selena, tilting her head in mild surprise. “I’m sorry if this frustrates you…” she started, gesturing towards her scab. “I didn’t want to cover it with makeup because I was worried it get infected and you’d probably think I was trying to hide it from you and-“
“No.” Deanna briskly held her hand up to take Selena’s to stop her tirade of an explanation. “It’s not that.” She stated. “Well, it is – sort of – I just…” she released another huff before shaking her head and gazing back at her wife. “It’s two things.”
Selena remained silent – because as if that was an explanation to anything. She, instead, lifted an eyebrow prompting her wife to continue.
“Great…” sighed Deanna with a grumble. “This is gonna put the focus square on me, don’t think this puts you off the hook!” she warned, pointing a finger at Selena – who, out of just pure randomness, nipped at it with her teeth, catching the small digit with a playful-non-painful bite. “Ow!” Deanna exclaimed out of surprise and not pain. “You…minx.” She settled for. “And that’s the first thing. You’re hurt – even only a little – and all I wish for right now is that it was the end of the month so I could just hold you.”
“Oh…well…I mean…” scooching over a little, Selena moved out of her bench-seat to sit beside Deanna. The guards – though Selena knew they were watching – said nothing and made no move to stop her. After nearly a year of Deanna being here – with nine more to go – and of Selena visiting regularly, there wasn’t a guard/employee around that didn’t know the two of them were married. By the time Selena had settled onto Deanna’s side of the table, a pair of arms were waiting for her, wrapping around the Snow Queen’s toned form, squeezing her gently, aggravating the bruises on her ribs, legs, arms and back from the stomping a little but Selena said nothing. No way she was going to say a word that would make her wife back away. She loved being held and holding her wife. It was a gift that had almost been taken from her entirely by fate – her greatest enemy it would seem. “See?” she offered Deanna. “You can still do that.”
“Not quite.” Deanna whispered. “Not the way I use to… in bed, I mean.”
The implication was obvious, and it made Selena sigh in a mixture of need and sadness. How many times had she been hurt from this business in the last three or so years of their marriage/relationship to the point where she hadn’t wanted to even get out of bed. The platinum-blonde couldn’t recall the number of days following a pay-per-view or an episode of Breakdown where she had awoken the next day too sore to move, or worse, and had just spent the day of travel in bed, blinds closed.
And what had Deanna done when she was with her those days? Made her meals, cleaned any and all cuts, iced any really bad bruises, maybe coaxed her into a bath or shower, and held her all the rest of the while, the redhead’s warm, naked form pressed gently against Selena’s cool skin. That last part was the greatest remedy, and with it being limited to once a month, it was more so craved by both.
Selena felt her wife’s head resting in the crook of her neck, and she held her tighter, feeling every curve of her wife’s body against her – her simply maroon grey t-shirt and bra barely a layer, same as Deanna’s blue prison-outfit.
“I can’t believe they don’t let you wear bras.” Selena teased, running a hand up and down Deanna’s back, feeling no obstacle or knot in her way that would suggest any kind of undergarment.
Against the wrestler’s skin, Deanna shook her head. “They had an incident where one inmate straggled another with a bra.”
Selena’s eyes widened, Deanna’s casual response causing her to lean back and stare at the redhead. “That…that wasn’t recently, was it?”
“No.” Deanna shook her head. “It was a couple of years ago. Shar told me. Something about the wiring in the bra acting like a good choke-collar.” Inadvertently, Deanna’s hand moved as she spoke to illustrate her point, reminding Selena of her wife’s earlier words before they had been distracted by the touch of one another.
“What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?” she asked. “You said you had something that was going to put the focus on you.”
Emerald-green eyes widened a little and another huff escaped Deanna. She clearly did not want to talk about this. “Actually, that’s the thing.” She sighed. “There was a big brawl yesterday. That’s why there’s a couple of extra guards.”
Selena’s mouth hung open. “A brawl?” she asked. “How?” her hands flew, running over Deanna’s body, checking for anything out of place. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”. She checked everywhere. Ribs, arms, back, even inadvertently coping a feel or two, causing Deanna to yelp in surprise.
“Easy!” she hissed, grasping her wife’s hands in hers tightly. “Much as I would love you to continue-“
“This isn’t the time for that kind of talk, Deanna!” Selena hissed back. “Are you-“
“I’m fine.” Deanna pressed, squeezing her wife’s hands assuredly. “I wasn’t hurt. Shar kept me in our cell and stood in the way until the guards were able to close them all automatically and then move in.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.” Deanna stated. “I don’t know how it all went down. Someone pissed off someone in Queenie’s group.”
Now that was a name Selena had heard in conversation with Deanna. Lateera Queenzel, aka Queenie, nicknamed so because she saw herself as the “Queen Bee” of the prison, was just as the nickname suggested. A big, black woman of power within the walls of Frankfurt Prison III. She had her own group, had her own or posse, she was the one that could had an ‘in’ with the guards and, thus, could get things that no one else could for inmates. The majority of people that weren’t in her little ‘group’ had two options: Stay out of her way or end up in ‘trouble’.
There were only few people that were exceptions to that. And one of them was Shar. Much like Queenie, Sharlene, or Shar, was set for a life sentence. And while she didn’t cause trouble, she was far different than Deanna was. Deanna was… well, Deanna. The bright, energetic, so clean she squeaks kind of girl (Selena could attest to the squeaking, especially if her wife was ticked or touched in the right way). Shar, on the other hand, was just quiet and… Selena had met her only a few times, same with Queenie, as she had travelled through the prison. While Queen was loud and seemed rather full of herself, Shar just watched and spoke directly. There was nothing intimidating in her words, but… Selena couldn’t exactly place it but, it was like she was facing a female version of Xander Valentine.
In SCW, the man didn’t say much. He didn’t have to. You just knew that if you picked a fight with him, you may win (as Selena had) but it was going to be a painful fight, and you weren’t going to just walk away from it unscathed. It made sense that if anyone was like that here, Queenie wouldn’t want anything to do with them, and Selena found herself grateful that someone like that was looking after her pet.
“That would explain the extra care to search me.” Selena finally spoke, gaining Deanna’s attention. The redhead merely nodded at that.
“I was wondering why you weren’t wearing your usual leather jacket today.” She stated.
“I did.” Selena sighed. “Thing is, when I got here, they said they were just recovering from a full-day lockdown. They said that while I could visit you, they would need me to hand over everything. I had to give them my phone, keys, jacket. Even had to take off my shoes for a bit and have my pockets searched.”
She had been fortunate that it was one of the female guards that had done the searching, but it had stayed in her mind as she had made her way through the prison, only leaving when Deanna had arrived and demanded to know what had happened to Selena regarding the cut on her head.
The younger, smaller woman gave a nod. “Yeah, it was pretty bad.”
“How bad?” Selena asked.
“I’m not sure, but apparently someone died.”
Again, Selena was agape. “H..how? How can you say that so casually?”
“It’s all I can do.” Deanna stated, as bravely as she could. “You want me to tell you that I lay in bed, hugging my pillow, just crying and wishing that you were here?” she asked, and in her eyes, Selena saw an emotion that she hadn’t seen in some time.
Anger. Hatred. Not necessarily at the platinum-blonde, but it was there.
“Well…I did.” Deanna admitted. “That’s all I did the entire lockdown. Shar left me alone and just watched everyone from our door. I just quietly cried because I…” she stopped for a minute and shook her head.
Quietly, Selena reached out, drawing her wife into her arms once again. She wanted to apologize again, but what could she do? She couldn’t be here every second of every day. She was doing all she could to get her wife out of this hell but it wasn’t like ‘getting the mail’ or ‘taking Oberon for a walk’. The laws of Germany had sentenced Deanna – found her guilty. And it would take something massive and miraculous to sway them to change their minds and set her free.
“At least you’re safe.” She whispered, resting a hand against the back of Deanna’s head.
“Yeah.” She heard her wife whisper. She wasn’t sure if the tone in Deanna’s voice was relief or a mixture of it and frustration. Either way, she couldn’t blame her. Her beloved didn’t belong here. She belonged in Manhattan, back in their ‘forever home’, with their children and dog.
She belongs with me. Like this. In my arms.
The two sat in silence as they were for several minutes, neither having something to say. Selena was grateful Deanna had told her what had happened regarding the lockdown and the reasons behind it. At the very least, though it had given her a bit of a panic attack for a few seconds as Deanna had explained, she could take comfort that her wife was being looked after as best as possible. Though, now, she had a thorough understanding of what her wife went through, worrying about the platinum-blonde in the world of SCW – more so now since Deanna had no way to access the happenings on in the federation due to her incarceration, except whatever Selena told/showed her.
“Ahem…”
The sound of a guard clearing his throat broke the silence, causing Selena to release Deanna and turn her head a little to regard the uniform-wearing officer.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Frost.” She wasn’t sure which woman he was regarding, so she kept quiet. “But you have another guest.”
It was Deanna’s turn to be surprised with Selena, the pair turning to one another in confusion.
“Did you bring the children?” Deanna asked.
“No.” Selena shook her head. “They’re back at the castle.”
Turning her back to the guard, Deanna tilted her head, offering him a polite smile. “Umm… are you sure they’re here to see me?”
“Yes.” Replied the guard. “They specifically asked for Deanna Frost. We said you were in the middle of a visit from your wife and they seemed more eager to see you both. Said your wife would understand?”
Again, Deanna’s eyes were back on Selena, causing the Snow Queen to, in return, shift her gaze back to Deanna. “I honestly don’t know what he’s talking about.” She stated honestly.
For a moment, Deanna said nothing before turning her head back towards the guard. “By all means, send them in… I mean…” she corrected herself. “I mean, if that’s okay, I’ll see them.”
The guard gave a nod before returning to the doorway and speaking to another guard that was standing there, this one shorter than the other. The short guard gave a curt nod and was out of sight for a few minutes. Meanwhile, Selena’s hands found Deanna’s, the couple clutching onto one another as subtly as they could – they always were stronger standing united, and they both knew that.
A few minutes passed and the shorter guard returned, but not alone, as the new “guest” marched into the room. It took Selena only a few seconds to recognize the woman, but before she could react – before she could speak – the guest cut her off.
“Good to hear that you’re both here.” The woman replied, marching the necessary spaces to the table the Frost wives sat, choosing to sit on the opposite side of it, where Selena had originally sat but now sat beside her wife. “Makes things a lot easier, I think.”
“What are you doing here?!” Selena asked with a hiss, not wanting to cause a scene and, thus, trouble for her wife. “I thought we were done here.”
“So did I.” the brunette hissed back before turning her gaze over to Deanna. “Deanna.” She breathed out, placing her manicured hands onto the table and interlocking her own fingers. “Can’t believe this is our first time meeting face to face.”
“I’m…I’m sorry…” Deanna spoke slowly, hesitantly, with the utmost caution. “I don’t-“ her gaze shot between the woman and Selena, who had not taken her eyes off the brunette. “Who are you?”
“Talia Scythe.” The woman replied briskly. “And it seems that I am your new lawyer.”
_________________________________________________
The Royal Letter
The camera fades in to reveal the Snow Queen, Selena Frost, sitting at a desk in a rather comfy-looking leather chair. Her hair is in its iconic braid and she is wearing a sapphire-blue sweater that seems to make her sapphire eyes pop. With a soft smile, she gazes into the camera, to the person she knows is watching.
Hello Asher... she offers before holding up a hand reassuringly. Don't worry, this isn't something crazy like a 'death threat' or 'warning' or whatever. This is just a private letter for you – or video, I guess - she bites her lower lip, as if unsure of something. Well, actually, sometimes I record these and sometimes I write them on a blog – so 'letter' or 'address', you can call it whatever you want.
For me, though, this is a chance to clear the air a little. For the past few weeks, you and I have been so thrown in the trenches, it would seem, that we haven't really just... I don't know... talked about it? I guess you can consider this my attempt to fix that.
With a smile, she smooths out the wrinkles in her jeans, though there are none, before she continues. Now, before I say anything further about what is to come, I want to say 'thank you' for coming down to the ring last Breakdown and – well, there isn't another way to say it – you and the others put the brakes to Glory and the Beauty Factory's attack. You saved me and... if Regan had gotten in that ring, I don't know if she would have been able to achieve her destiny, bringing her dream of being Supreme Champion one step closer – that's the most important thing for me, Asher. Not only did you save me, you prevented things from possibly becoming so much worse, not just for me but for someone that I care so much for. So, thank you.
Taking a deep breath, the Snow Queen releases it in a soft exhale. But, I guess now I need to address the elephant in the room, don't I? You and I were teasing about it on Twitter. That we were hoping to be teammates against the Beauty Factory? Stick it to them, sort of thing, right? I'll admit, that would have been fun, to team with you, Asher, but here we are, in a triple threat match against Glory Braddock – the supposed 'hired hand' of Beauty Factory, or should we go with the whole “The Best in the World” thing that she can't seem to go a tweet without repeating? A huff comes from the Snow Queen.
As you can imagine, Asher, I am looking forward to getting my hands on her more than I can say, especially after the events of last Breakdown. And, to be honest, I can't say that I'm not excited at this little twist in what we believed. I am excited. A smile breaks across Selena's face. Facing Madison Steward, even if the match didn't end as I wanted it to – it lit a fire under me, Asher. It truly did! Because all I was supposed to be – all that Glory will see me as is someone to be used to spread her message. That's all she will see me as and that is all she will see you as.
And I am excited because I know we are so much more than that!
With a shake of her head and a fiddling of her lower lip with her teeth for a second, Selena gathers her thoughts before continuing. You are so much more than that, Asher! You think I don't recall how you beat my sister, Regan, to become Adrenaline champion? Ever since then, I have been waiting to face you in a match, not for revenge, mind you, but because I know how much that title meant to Regan and how much she put her heart and soul into retaining it and being an amazing champion!
And for you, I don't care if it was luck or skill or whatever people call it – I don't care – the fact that you did it... it intrigues me, Asher. It makes me want to test my abilities against yours as a wrestler and see which of us is better...
But fate is not so kind. Selena shakes her head. I wish it were, Asher. I wish we were wrestling against one another under better circumstances, but, as I said, this is something more than just a 'standard wrestling match' and there's so much more at stake here.
First: it's a triple threat. That means no disqualifications. That means Glory and the Beauty Factory can do whatever the hell they want to try and 'leave their message'. They can do what they tried to do to you two weeks ago or to me a few days ago. They can, Asher... and there's nothing in the rules that would stop them from doing so.
A moment passes before the Snow Queen looks away for a moment, drumming her fingers on the desk.
I'm guessing at this point, you're thinking that I'm about to make you an offer of some kind. Offer up some kind of plan of us “working together” to deal with Glory before we face each other. she takes a deep breath. But that's not an offer I can make, Asher. That's not an offer I will make.
Yes, you and I could team up and we could make Glory regret what she's done and what the Factory is done – ambush her like they did us...
But how does that make us any different than them if we do, Asher? Selena tilts her head, shaking it a little, her braid moving a bit with her movement. If we use their tactics just to get ahead in this match, then how are we any better than them? How are we any better than Sienna and Chris, who tried to buy their way to the World Championship? How are we different than Xiomara, who hides behind her job as a bodyguard so she can do whatever she wants with no consequences? How are we different than Bree Lancaster, who uses tricks and sneak attacks to get ahead and lies about her failings with delusional cries of “I LET HER WIN!”? More than all of that, how are we different that Glory? Using such tactics to push her 'nickname' of “Best in the World” when you and I both know that such a thing isn't proven like that.
Selena's eyes narrow a little. You didn't prove you could beat Regan by buying thugs or attacking from behind. You brought the fight and you never relented. You never gave up. That, Asher... she takes a deep breath. That is what I am going to ask of you for this match.
She is silent for a moment, allowing her words to settle, taking her braid and flicking it behind her back.
You and I, Asher? We are never going to convince the Beauty Factory that we are more than “tools for messages”. We aren't. If Ace Marshall beating Glory cleanly at Retribution wasn't enough for her to get off her high-horse with her proclamations, then no matter what happens, they will be back on Twitter with some flimsy excuse before shoving their monikers down our throats once again.
But do you remember Retribution? she raises an eyebrow. A match bought. All the odds in the favour of the Beauty Factory – a variable four or five on one, depending on who you ask – promises and vows made by Sienna and Chris Cannon, touting over our heads for weeks and weeks – ill-gotten gains from harassing a mother and offering her child to get that Trios contract...
And they failed, Ash. A satisfied smile breaks across Selena's face. All the money and power and associates they could get, Asher, and they failed to get the SCW World title! Do you remember what happened after that? There wasn't an excuse they could make, and they made several. There wasn't a promise they could throw at the SCW Universe. There wasn't a damn thing they could do or say...
They had failed and the world knew it. Not only did they look the fools, but no one – not a soul outside their group – believed in them.
That... she lifts a finger, her voice trailing off for a moment. That is how SCW will win this war, Asher. Not by 'convincing' Beauty Factory, but by proving them wrong over and over again – reducing their words and lies to just that. I've seen it happen in my time here. Monarchy, Imperium, The Coalition, New Eden, Infamous - all those people that thought they were bigger than SCW. Thought they were the 'only important stars of SCW'. Thought that they were SCW.
They all fell. Do you know why, Asher? An excited, kind smile breaks across Selena's face. Because you and I both know who SCW is. SCW is you. SCW is me. SCW is all of those people that cheered you when you held that Adrenaline title high. SCW is all those people that booed and applauded us each and every time we entered that ring. SCW is every single person that is believing in this federation. And no wrestler, stable, group or whatever is bigger or better than them. Not by a long shot. Not you. Not me, and sure as hell, not Glory.
So at Cold-Blooded, Asher, I am not asking you to “team with me”. I'm not asking you to “plan with me”. I am not asking you “seek revenge” or “eliminate Glory”. No! What I am asking you, Asher, is when you and I are in that ring at New Orleans, we show that we are part of SCW. We show Glory – we show one another – that we are SCW, just like all of the people watching!
And we do that, Asher, by doing what we've done the last few weeks of being attacked by that damned Factory. We keep fighting! We keep going! We keep getting back up!
Vigorously, Selena slams her fist onto the table, making a thud sound as she does. I want to face that kind of Asher Hayes, sir! I want to face the man that will keep getting up just like I will! I want to beat the man that keeps getting up – the man that I believe you are, Asher! And, if it comes down to it and I have to lose, I want to lose to such a person as that, Asher.
Glory is not that kind of person. Selena shakes her head. You know it and I know it. Because if she was, she wouldn't need to attack me from behind. She wouldn't need to blast me in the head with a microphone. She wouldn't need Sienna or Chris or Xiomara or anyone – she'd just be that good. She'd just be “The Best in the World”.
Selena sits back in her chair, the Snow Queen, crossing her hands and interlocking her fingers. I promise you, Ash, that I won't stop getting up, no matter what is thrown at me. I promise you that I will give everything I have to win this match and further expose the Beauty Factory for the liars and cowards they are. I will continue what was done at Retribution and show the difference between their words – their opinions of being SCW – and who SCW truly is. Selena smiles knowingly.
Best bring your A game, Asher, because you and I will be in for the fight of our lives. And if Glory won't give it to us – I can assure you that I will be more than up to that task...
Believe it, Asher. the platinum-blonde salutes with her hand. Because I am done being knocked down this week.
The camera fades on the Snow Queen before going entirely to black.
![[Image: hffOaUZ.png]](https://i.imgur.com/hffOaUZ.png)
SCW Supreme Champion
6x SCW World Champion
4x SCW World Tag-Team Champion
2x SCW United States Champion
3x SCW Adrenaline Champion
SCW Television Champion
Longest Reigning SCW World Champion (234 days)
Winner of Shot of Adrenaline Tournament (2016)
Winner of Best of the Best Tournament (2016)
Winner of Trios Tournament (2018)
Winner of U.S. Championship Tournament (2020)
Winner of World Championship Tournament (2023)
Winner of Tactical Warfare (2014, 2019)
Winner of Elimination Chamber (2015, 2024)
Winner of Roofed Cage Match (2019)
Winner of Last Person Standing Match (2019)
The Unbelievable Main Event (2021-2025)
Winner of Double Jeopardy Match (2022)
Winner of EOTY Invitational (2023)
Winner of EOTY Invitational (2023)
Winner of Ironman Match (2024)
Wrestler of the Year (2016, 2021, 2022, 2024)
Tag-Team of the Year (2020 - w/ Regan Street)
Match of the Year (2018, 2019, 2021, 2023, 2024)
Feud of the Year (2014, 2019)
Shocking Moment of the Year (2024)
![[Image: 34zetxl.png]](https://i.ibb.co/SnpvD5T/34zetxl.png)