Frost No More
”Sound of Silence”
Eyrie Tower
New York City, New York
March 14th, 2026
12:33pm
The bus ride back had been too quiet for her, and that was with her trying to distract her mind with the sounds of a shower, Netflix/Crunchyroll, and calling her children the next morning as she travelled.
Deanna Frost didn’t like silence like this - not real silence. Not forced silence that was forced on her through someone avoiding her. It reminded her too much of her time in Frankfurt, of her time locked away in Kentucky and being told she was mentally-unwell. The kind of silence that pressed in around her ears and made her thoughts sound louder than they should be. Like the voice of the heart...
She didn’t. She couldn’d have...
Usually, even after the most brutal matches, there was noise. Crew chatter. Superstars screaming, either in victory, in defeat, or in some kind of ‘mission’ or ‘tantrum’ – the latest being Polly Pignotti, who had gone back to the name of ‘Polly Playtime’ like it was some kind of ‘power-up’ or something. For a moment, Deanna sighed at that. She had faced the woman so many times, often coming out the victor. The semifinals of the Shot of Adrenaline championship had been the most recent time, where the redhead had won cleanly and retained her Adrenaline Championship. The noise had been especially loud after that, with Polly attacking Deanna right after and declaring it was ‘luck’ or a ‘fluke’.
On that, Deanna couldn’t understand. She had beaten Polly in tag matches, singles matches, chamber matches, even a last-person standing match. Yes, every match had been close and yes, Polly was a hell of a competitor – there was no denying that. But Deanna had won. So what did that say about her? Why did it have to be ‘luck’ every time? Why did it have to be a ‘fluke’? Did it really matter this point?
This kind of noise – this mental debate – combined with the hum of the road, would have been normal to the redhead following Breakdown especially one where she had teamed with the reigning world champion and her friend (of sorts) Kimberly Williams to win the main-event. Selena’s voice would be drifting from somewhere nearby (or close if it was an intimate moment – sleeping, cuddling or – hell, Deanna wasn’t ashamed to admit – the intense sex they could have). A voice that was either calm or passionate,or cutting or distant depending on the day and ‘activity’.
There was no mistaking what the former world champion would say in helping Deanna dealing with Polly. The woman had fought the frustrated Pignotti more times than Deanna had, and had been far more vicious in her approach than the redhead – being the Blue-Eyed Devil and all. She would have a strategy, suggest brutality and zero room for doubt. To find a way to silence the critics and Polly emphatically. Even if it meant scaring the respect into Polly through dominance like Selena had.
Deanna sighed at that, running a hand through her as she looked at herself in the mirror, checking her appearance as the luxury bus moved along the streets. Much as the Heart of Veil’s voice loudly agreed with the Snow Queen, Deanna couldn’t imagine doing that. Yes, she would endure every punishment and keep fighting. Yes, she would play within the confines of what an ‘Adrenaline match’ was, but the idea of injuring Polly? She was mad at her, yes, but she didn’t want to put Polly on the shelf like Selena would possibly suggest.
In many ways, she understood the woman. Polly had been through so much abuse and torment in her past, with the collar and cages – she hadn’t been shy about that – and what was more, she had fought like nobody else Deanna had seen in SCW (except maybe Selena) just to get ahead in the business. But where Deanna had met success with the few opportunities she had been given, Polly had met roadblock after roadblock. And not just with her, but the likes of Dexter Grant, Some Loser, people that had just slipped by her to either take a title from her or keep her from winning one. And all she wanted was to be seen on the same level as people like Selena.
In that, Deanna understood better than most. She had spent so many years to be seen as something other than “Selena Frost’s wife” and then as something more than “The Other Frost”. It had taken years and countless battles, but the Shot of Adrenaline, beating both Polly and Dexter Grant in a single night, to make her feel something akin to it happening. She had done what Selena hadn’t – run the gauntlet from start to finish and finish the Shot of Adrenaline undefeated. A perfect run. Something that could be hers and not “Selena did it first”. It had made Polly’s insults about her the other night sting less and Gavin’s little jabs with alliteration seem childish.
But Breakdown hadn’t been about any of that, had it?
Again, the silence filled her ears, pressing down on her, causing a sigh to escape her as she adjusted her hair after drying it. Slipping into her blue jeans and a green shirt with a coat, Deanna tried to not let the silence get to her again. To let her mind run wild with possibilities and, instead, remain focused.
She could hear the low, mechanical growl of the engine and the occasional hiss of air brakes as the luxury bus carved its way through the highways. She wasn’t working on being ‘Deanna the wrestler’ right now. She was focused on being ‘Deanna the woman’ and ‘Deanna the partner’. Because it was her partner that Deanna was seeking.
Selena’s not there. That was the problem Deanna kept circling back to everywhere she went. After the last segment on Breakdown and somewhere during Deanna’s match with Syren and Kimberly against EFN, her lover had left the arena without a trace. She’d gone missing.
Not in some dramatic, public way. Not with alarms or panic or anyone really noticing. Deanna had just returned from the main-event and... Selena was gone. Her bag was gone, her things were gone, her tag-title was gone. And then all those segments came rushing to Deanna. Her ex-wife declaring herself as the one getting the ‘world title shot’ at Retribution when it was supposed to be Gavin Taylor. The confrontation with CHBK. Attacking Xander on instinct. Attacking the Glimmers. Selena had been everywhere, doing gods knew what. And... nobody had a clue, least of all her.
None of it made sense. Everything had seemed fine arriving at the arena. She remembered Selena being there with her. They had showered together in the luxury bus, gone over strategy for dealing with EFN – Selena having boatloads of experience lately with them. Yes, looking back, Selena had seemed a little distant. A little distracted, but that wasn’t anything that was a ‘red-alarm’.
It was only as Deanna checked her reflection once more that she remembered what Selena had said.
“I have a plan.”
That was all she had said. But it hadn’t been the words. It had been how Selena had said them. The conviction, the look, the clarity in those sapphire eyes. At the time, Deanna had tried to nod it off while, simultaneously, being supportive. Not because she didn’t believe Selena, but because that was easier than asking the questions that sat heavy in her chest.
Getting rid of the tag-team title situation with her and Xander.
The world title.
Those were Selena’s only goal. There was no “surefire” way – other than forfeiting and quitting – to get her out of being world tag-team champion with Xander Valentine, just like there was no ‘surefire way’ to get a world title shot for – CHBK had seen to that for the Snow Queen.
Selena had been obsessed for over a year, yes. Denied opportunities, yes. Held back - at least in her mind - by the icon. Deanna understood the frustration - She really did. But obsession had a way of twisting reality. Of turning “unfair” into “impossible” and “unlikely” into “guaranteed if I just push hard enough.”
That’s what worried her. That’s what made the silence on the bus feel like something more than just absence. Because Selena hadn’t just stepped out for a moment.
She hadn’t come back.
And you know why... growled the Heart of Veil in the back of her mind, causing her to quickly dismiss as she had countless times in the silence. She was assuming nothing! But she wanted answers, dammit! And no amount of hiding was going to stop her.
By the time the bus pulled up to Eyrie Tower, she was already anxious and nervous. The castle suite loomed above the city like something out of another world - sharp lines, dark stone, tall windows somewhat obscured by the lower clouds. It had always felt slightly unreal to Deanna, even after all this time.
Selena’s space.
Selena’s sanctuary.
Even after the divorce, it had remained hers.
Yes, the redhead and their children had occupied it for months while their ‘Forever Home’ was renovated from the fire almost a year ago, but she had always felt more like a ‘guest’ there rather than an ‘owner’.
The driver, Eric, didn’t say much when Deanna stepped off the bus. Just a nod, a quiet “take care,” and then the low rumble of the engine fading as he had pulled away. She had told him to just head where he needed to. If necessary, she’d take a cab back to her Manhattan home. A few moments of traffic and Deanna walking through the front door, entering the elevator and...
Silence again.
Adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, her body aching with every movement from Breakdown. The match had taken more out of her than she’d admitted to anyone. Adrenaline had carried her through it, but now, a day or two later, all that remained was soreness and fatigue.
And something heavier. Something she didn’t want to name as the numbers on the elevator continued to rise with the metal-confine. Inside, the suite was exactly as she remembered.
Immaculate. Cold. Beautiful in a way that felt almost untouchable.
The high ceilings made every sound echo just a little too much. Her footsteps clicked against the polished floor as she stepped inside, setting her bag down near the entrance. Compared to the warmth of her Manhattan home, filled with the noise of children and covered in pictures of her family, messes here and there from a family that loved each other, the strands of dog an cat hair in odd places – Deanna hated it here. It was too cold, too silent, too... inhuman.
“Selena?” she called out, her voice echoing through the space. Nothing.
Deanna exhaled slowly, pressing her lips together as the immediate rush of alarm and frustration took root. “Okay...” she muttered to herself quietly. “Okay. She’s here. She has to be here.”
Selena wouldn’t just disappear. Not like that. Not without telling her. Stomp off to the castle to sulk? Fine. That was Selena. But disappear entirely? No, she wouldn’t do that… Right?
Deanna shook her head, as if physically dislodging the thought, and started moving through the suite. The living area was empty. Everything was in its place - perfectly arranged, like a showroom no one actually lived in. The couch cushions were untouched. The glass table was spotless. No sign of anyone having been there recently.
“Selena, this isn’t funny.” she called out, louder than before, zero humour in her voice. Still nothing.
She moved toward the kitchen next. Same story: Clean and unused. No dishes. No signs of recent meals. Not even a stray glass left out on the counter. It felt… wrong. Like she was invading some stranger’s home – part of her even wondering if she had ended up on the wrong floor by accident – some kind of glitch in the elevator and the security doors. Maybe this was the castle BELOW the castle on top!
What was it David’s Mario game always said? “Your princess is in another castle”? Maybe that was it –
A castle on top of a castle? She mentally slapped herself.
Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?
Still, that didn’t explain the suite’s state! Selena wasn’t messy, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t this sterile either. There was usually
something. A cup of tea. A half-finished glass of water. A trace of life. SOMETHING!
Deanna felt her chest tighten. “Okay…” she whispered. “Where are you?”
She checked the office. Empty. Not even any messages or notes.
The balcony. Just cold air and the distant sound of the city.
The guest rooms. All untouched.
Each empty space seemed to press in on her a little more, the silence growing heavier with every step. And with it, the thoughts she didn’t want to have. Selena’s words echoed again.
“I have a plan.”
What did that even mean?! A real plan? Or one of those ideas that started small and spiraled into something reckless? The RTG-contract plan? The masked Keitaro plan for EOTY? ‘Plans’ were dangerous in Selena’s hands, especially with her like this!
Deanna leaned against the wall for a moment, closing her eyes, trying to ignore the Heart’s voice as it repeated the same words as before – truth she refused to consider.
“You’re overthinking...” she breathed quietly. “She’s probably just… out.” Out where? Doing what? Why wouldn’t she leave a note? A message? Anything?
Deanna swallowed. Because Selena wasn’t careless. Not when it mattered. She was methodical, relentless, stubborn – all the things Deanna loved about her... but also could curse her for.
The opposite of Polly. Polly was unpredictable. Loud. Invasive in a way that crawled under your skin. And now she was gunning for Deanna’s Adrenaline Championship like it was some kind of game. Now? Deanna’s skin crawled because of Selena because it THAT should have been her focus. Putting together a strategy against Polly. She was going to come at Deanna more desperate and dangerous than ever, and gods knew what she would do to the Adrenaline division if she won it. She could treat it like she had the Television Title, which would do it wonders, but that had been Polly Pignotti... Polly Playtime? Deanna wasn’t sure about.
Which was why she needed to be ready! It was
her responsibility. But standing here, in this empty suite, it felt distant. Secondary. Like something happening in another life, despite it lingering at the edges of her thoughts.
Polly had been getting closer. Pushing harder. Saying things that blurred the line between mind games and something far more personal. And Deanna knew she couldn’t afford to be distracted where that woman was concerned, considering the number of times Polly had gotten the jump on her.
And yet - how was she supposed to focus on a title defence when Selena had just… vanished?
“Selena!” she called again, almost a yell, a growing frustration in her voice. No response.
Deanna ran a hand through her hair, pacing now. “This isn’t-” she started, then stopped herself.
What was this? A misunderstanding? A miscommunication? Or something worse?
Her thoughts stalled there. Because the next step – the one the Heart wanted her to take - was one she refused to fully form.
There was only one place left to check, which was where Deanna’s steps had, inevitably taken her. The bedroom. Her heart was beating faster as she approached the door - not from exertion but from something else.
“Okay.” she whispered. “Just… go. 3...2...1!” She pushed the door open.
The room was dim, the curtains partially drawn. Soft light filtered in, casting long shadows across the floor. At first glance, everything looked normal: the bed was made, the surfaces were clear, but something felt off.
“Selena?” she called again, softer now. “Please come out and talk to me. I promise I’ll listen...”
Still nothing. She moved further in, her gaze shifting toward the closet and her eyes caught it. The door was slightly ajar. For some reason, that was what made her stomach drop.
“Don’t...” she muttered under her breath, but she moved toward it anyway. Her hand hesitated for just a second before pushing the door open.
Empty.
Well, not completely empty, but emptier than it should have been. Several hangers sat bare, spaced unevenly along the rod. There were gaps where clothing should have been - noticeable ones. Gone. Not all of them, but just enough to mean something.
Deanna’s breath caught. “No…” she whispered.
Her fingers brushed against one of the empty hangers, nudging it slightly. She watched it sway, the faint creak of metal sounding too loud in the quiet room.
This wasn’t an accident.
This wasn’t someone stepping out for a few hours.
This was deliberate. Careful. Planned.
“She wouldn’t…” Deanna started, but the words fell apart before she could finish them.
Wouldn’t what?
Leave?
Lie?
Take?
Disappear without telling her?
The answer hovered there, just out of reach.
Or maybe just out of ACCEPTANCE.
Deanna stepped back, shaking her head. “No, no, no...” she murmured, pacing around the room. “This doesn’t make sense.”
Because it didn’t! Selena had a plan - A world title plan. That was what she’d said. But how did
this connect to that? Why would she need to leave? To take clothes? To vanish without a word?
Unless—
Deanna stopped, her thoughts slammed into something solid. Something she immediately tried to push away but was too loud now for her to ignore. “No.” Her voice was firmer this time. “I’m not going there!”
She refused! Because if she did - if she let herself follow that line of thinking - it would lead somewhere she wasn’t ready to face, something she wasn’t ready to face...
“Selena…” she said softly, her voice breaking just slightly. “What are you doing?” Again... No answer. Just the quiet.
Deanna sank down onto the edge of the bed, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion she’d been ignoring. Her hands rested on her knees, fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her pants.
She felt… stunned. That was the only word that fit. Not angry - not yet. Not even fully scared. Just... stunned. Like the ground had shifted under her feet and she hadn’t quite processed it yet.
“This isn’t how you do things...” she said quietly, as if Selena could hear her. “You don’t just leave, unless... unless...”
Selena had always been capable of distance. Of shutting people out when she felt cornered or wronged. Of convincing herself that she was alone, even when she wasn’t. Deanna had seen it before.
But to hide... from me? Her gaze drifted back to the closet - to the missing pieces. To the silent evidence of a decision already made. And the question that kept circling back, over and over:
Why?
Why she hadn’t said anything.
Why she hadn’t trusted her enough to explain.
Why she’d left her here, piecing together clues like this.
Unless it’s YOU she’s hiding from... came the voice. [color=red
Unless you’re the real thing she’s running from...[/color]
Deanna exhaled slowly, leaning forward, elbows on her knees, her frustration and fear being replaced by something far easier to handle.
“Fine...” she muttered. “Fine!”
If Selena wanted to play it this way...
If she wanted to disappear into whatever this “plan” was...
Then fine!
She sat there for a long moment, staring at nothing, listening to the quiet press in around her. Eventually, she pushed herself to her feet, moving back toward the closet one last time, as if something might have changed. As if the missing pieces might suddenly reappear.
They didn’t - of course they didn’t.
She let the door swing closed with a soft click.
The match.
Polly.
The title.
Selena.
The ‘plan’.
Too many pieces of a puzzle and none of them fitting together.
“Where are you?” she asked again, barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air. And as the silence swallowed it whole, one thing became painfully clear: She wasn’t going to find Selena today.
Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not even for Retribution. And whatever was coming next - whatever Selena had set into motion - Deanna was to have no knowledge of it.
That thought lingered, sharp and unwelcome. She didn’t let herself follow it all the way through. Didn’t let herself ask what it
meant.
Because some questions – and the answers they brought - were the kind that broke things. And she wasn’t ready for that... not yet.
So she stood there, alone in the quiet of Eyrie Tower, surrounded by the silence that continued to press on her, trying to make sense of a plan she didn’t understand, a disappearance she couldn’t explain...
And a future that suddenly felt a lot less certain than it had just a few days ago...