Level up.

[Jennie Docherty / Djinnie!]

May 25, 2024

Venice, Italy

It is a bright and beautiful sunny midafternoon without a single cloud in the sky… The Rialto Bridge is filled with a number of tourists that all admire the Grand Canal. Gondolas seemingly glide across the water’s surface all across the canal, patrons fill the restaurants that line up on both sides of the canal, and tourists march back and forth. The camera shifts to a new angle unveiling two quite familiar faces to the audience: the reigning IWF Women’s World Champion, Jennie Fenix, and her older sister, Tara Fenix.

Jennie is dressed in a romper with a sun hat to match, and sunglasses, while Tara wears boot cut denim pants, with a black sheer blouse and a fitted tank top underneath to match…Jennie’s hair is put into a topknot, and Tara’s is in a French twist. The two sisters sit across from each other, Tara leaning back further into her chair while Jennie maintains a proper posture, and each one with a stemmed wine glass in front of them.

“I can’t believe you got him to agree to babysit the kids.” Tara says as she takes up her wine glass, and sips the Chateau Ausone.

“He’s really great with kids, y’know, and I just– umm–” Jennie takes up her own glass and takes a larger gulp than Tara; Tara’s eyes widen a little at the amount she drinks, and Jennie exhales hard before finally continuing, “It’s been a while since we’ve been able to hang out. Just us two, y’know!” Jennie says excitedly.

“Is that why we’re in Venice, and not in Rome?” Tara questions as she holds her glass up beside her just as one of the servers walks by, carefully refilling the glass.

Jennie gives a subtle shrug, and a half-smile before finally answering, “Yeah, well, y’know…I’ve been trying to look at possible venues for the wedding while we’ve been on this tour, ‘cause I actually want something – big this time around, y’know?”

“Wasn’t your last wedding in Las Vegas?” Tara asks.

“Yeah, and that’s exactly what I don’t want…” Jennie answers.

“At the end of the day, it’s your choice, Jennie. I just don’t want you to put all this time and effort into something that could end up… well, not working…” Tara says, sounding a little disappointed in herself for giving the suggestion.

“Do you think that Allen and I are gonna make it…?” Jennie asks.

Tara half-smiles, and shakes her head as if to dismiss the thought, “The only thing I’ll say is that our family hasn’t had the best of luck when it comes to marriages, or even relationships…”

“Wait, are you and Angel– Did Angel–” Jennie finds herself unable to finish any of the questions as all the thoughts are racing through her mind, “I’ll smack him around, I don’t give a fuuu–”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. Angel and I are good,” Tara reassures her sister, “He just is taking a break, and you know, that means I get my chance to step back in. Full-time.”

“Okay, good…” Jennie mutters, nodding her head.

Silence befalls the two sisters, but Tara’s crystal eyes sparkle as she keeps a longing gaze on her sister; there are many details written just in the expression of admiration, as the corner of her lips curl into a smile – Jennie’s own eyes dart back and forth from the corner of her eye, meeting the gaze of her sister, then back to the scenery surrounding them. Jennie finally turns her head, and with a nervous chuckle escaping from under her breath, questions Tara, “What? Is there something on my face?” She asks, instinctively reaching for her napkin while dabbing it gently on her lips.

“It’s just,” Tara uncharacteristically hesitates, but finds her voice in continuing, “You’ve come a long way.”

“What do you mean?” Jennie asks.

“Well,” Tara begins to answer, “It’s just I remember when you were coming up… I remember that I didn’t think you were actually cut out to be inside of the ring; I remember thinking that you were–” she stops to clear her throat, and bites down on her bottom lip while her gaze falters from her baby sister, “Well,” she clears her throat a second time, “I thought you were an embarrassment.” The word finally escapes from Tara, and she lowers her head slightly, feeling ashamed of letting the word come out.

Jennie raises her head inquisitively to Tara, as this wasn’t something she was used to seeing out of her anymore; a vulnerable Tara. She hadn’t seen Tara as vulnerable since Angel had taken custody of Edward away from her by painting her as an unfit mother. Jennie reaches her hand across the table and instinctively takes her sister’s hand in a manner to reassure her.

The words escape from behind Jennie’s lips at the same time as she takes her sister’s hand, “It’s okay, Tara. I understand.” Jennie says with a smile, and those words alone seem to bring Tara back to normal.

Tara raises her head and lets out a chortle before continuing, “I’m proud of you. I’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished, but Jennifer–” Tara says while sitting forward, “It’s time that you accept that you’re not the same girl you were when you first started. You’re not the same girl that was beaten down at every turn, and denied every title you ever had the opportunity for. You’re not the same girl that went up against the wolves. Now, you’re leading them.” Tara says with a nod, snorting under her breath as she taps her finger against the glass a couple of times, “I’m just really proud of you.” She says again with a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

Jennie can’t keep her cheeks from reddening as she struggles to maintain eye contact with Tara. She bites down on her own lip, and then chatters her teeth while trying to fight back her own tears, “STAAAHP IT! You're gonna make me cry!" Jennie says as she takes a deep breath to regain her composure, then runs her fingers under her eyes, taking a quick glance to ensure her eyeliner isn't running, and nervously taps her knuckles against the counter to think of anything else, and she opts to change the subject, "How do you feel about being my Maid of Honor?”

“I would be honored,” Tara answers.

“And that thing in Phoenix? Did you– did you take care of it?” Jennie inquires.

“Yeah, everything is good to go…we should be able to open the doors as early as a month, and no later than the end of the summer.” Tara answers.

SCENE FADES

March 03, 2023

Birmingham, England

The roar of the crowd is deafening before the scenery fades into place, and as it finally does, we come to the sold out crowd of Birmingham, England in Utilia Arena Birmingham. The longest reigning IWF Women’s World Champion in the history of the company already stands inside of the ring with the newly crowned champion standing in front of her…Jennie Fenix…Jennie stands in front of Shelly Diamond with the title held toward her, and the camera shifts to the inside of the ring.

“Take it.” Jennie says.

Shelly Diamond stands proud, her eyes taking a gander at her once coveted possession… the title that she, to this day, had never been pinned to lose, a feat of strength that still stood to this day: no one within the confines of the Imperial Wrestling Federation had been able to pin Shelly Diamond’s shoulders to the mat to earn a victory over her ever since she began her crusade to break Tara. Shelly fixes her eyes on Jennie, and doesn’t even bless her with a verbal response. A subtle shake of her head.

Jennie grits her teeth, and shakes her head in response…she shoves the title forward, pressing it against Shelly’s sternum, “Take it!” Jennie repeats, louder this time, almost begging Shelly to hold the championship, but Shelly shakes her head again. Jennie lowers her head, the sense of dread and shame visible on her face…the emblazoned tone seemingly extinguished by Shelly’s refusal, Jennie finally mutters, “Please…” with the championship still held for Shelly, but her arm starting to lower while she feels herself becoming weak from Shelly’s refusal.

A sudden surge jolts some energy back to Jennie when Shelly reaches to the back of Jennie’s head, and pulls her closer – Jennie couldn’t fight the array of emotions that battled for her…but it soon eased when Shelly’s touch seemed to merely caress her, pulling her close and feeling her breath against her skin that gives her goosebumps until Shelly finally speaks to her, “You’re the champ. Start acting like it.”

The world around seems to crumble around her as Jennie leans back…she could see the fire in Shelly’s eyes, the same fire that she can still see clear as day every single time she gets into the ring. The adrenaline was already pumping throughout her whole body, the fire was reignited. Jennie hoists the championship high as the rest of the world continues to crumble until we are left in absolute darkness.

PRESENT DAY
Rome, Italy

Inhale…

You hear the word muttered as the scenery fades into place…the facial features are easily recognized as that of the reigning IWF Women’s World Champion, Jennie Fenix, but her eyes are closed. She draws in a deep breath and holds it in for several seconds.

Three.

Two.

One.

Just as she exhales, she opens her eyes. Her natural blue eyes are hidden behind lavender tinted contacts as she gazes forward – a glint in her eye, a fire; there was no mistaking the confidence burning inside of her. The camera pans backward a couple of inches unveiling more and more of her face; her lips are pursed together, and she tilts her head to the side letting her bangs brush against her shoulder…the camera continues moving backward and backward unveiling more of the scenery as she sits at the bottom of the Spanish Steps in Rome; her tongue traces across her lips before she officially breaks the silence, “Y’know…” she says, and her voice trails, and she snorts out a short chuckle, “Over the last couple of months, or really…over the last year…I’ve had to hear a wide range of people try to tell me about my journey, but they’ve only ever seen me while I’m shining brighter than I ever have before, but they never talk about the darkness, and the struggles– they don’t remember the struggles that I had to go through to get to this point. They never talk about what I’ve endured ‘cause it would go against their entire narrative of trying to paint me as the villain, and the spoiled brat.” She scoffs.

“When I first stepped into the ring, and I mean really…stepped into the ring. When I first started taking this seriously and wanted to do what my sister and my brother did for a living…there was no denying that the world didn’t quite identify me as anyone other than Tara’s baby sister. I wasn’t the attraction. I was the bait…everywhere I went, I was the bait. Sign Jennie! Tara will come!” She says without masking the frustration in her tone.

Drawing in a deep breath to maintain her calm demeanor, Jennie resumes, “I don’t want to go on and on about a tale as old as…well, really, it was only just a couple of years ago, but the point is that I don’t want to bore you with the regurgitated tale of how I was second banana to my sister, and despite all of the love I have for her, this isn’t about her. This is about me. The point is that I wanted to be like my brother. I wanted to be like my sister! I wanted to get into the same profession where they became household names. I wanted to have something more in common with them, and so…I did…I got into the ring, and I– was not them. I didn’t have the same allure as them. I didn’t have the same aura. I wasn’t able to get into the ring and stand as an icon against…anyone! But–” Jennie raises a finger in protest, and sniffles, “–I was able to take a championship in my very first year. In the first couple of months, even! Do you want to know what that title was? I’ll go ahead and tell you…” She lets out a heavy sigh before biting down on her bottom lip; her head ever so subtly shakes as if she didn’t even want to acknowledge it, but she couldn’t even deny how that title would shape her career moving forward.

“The Queens Championship,” she scoffs, “This wasn’t a championship that you could be proud of wearing…y’see, it’s not a traditional title. You didn’t win it. You could only ever get it by losing. Here I was – trying to make a name for myself out in this wonderful profession, and I was the lowest of the low! I had to wear a title that put it on display for the world… Do you know what that’s like? You probably don’t. You probably don’t have a clue what it’s like to have a sister as successful as Tara, and here you are, her baby sister, carrying a championship that’s putting you on display as the grandest loser! And there’s people in this business that would take a title like that and let that become – them – there are people in this business that would crumble, and take that as a sign that they’re in the wrong profession.” She flashes a quick, insincere smile at the camera.

“And, y’know, there’s no denying that it stung… It hurt me to have to carry that title around with me on a daily basis, but I never let it crush me! I looked at that title every single day that I was wearing it, and I knew that when I finally did get that curse off of me – I would never be in a position to have to carry a title like that ever again! And, y’know, for people that like to try to tell me about my history…y’all seem to forget one very important teensy weensy detail: my sister lost faith in me. My sister tried to tell me that I didn’t deserve to be in the ring. My sister tried to tell me to retire, AND HELL, my sister tried to retire me!” Jennie states boldly and goes silent for a couple of seconds to let the statement linger for sometime.

“From the bottom–” Jennie points down with some exaggeration in her arm movement, while springing from her seated position and takes one step up the landmark stairs, and the championship belt glimmers around her waist; she cautiously walks up the steps, looking over her shoulder to continue her speech as she does, “FROM THE BOTTOM, I had to scratch, claw, and fight my way to become the IWF Women’s World Champion! FROM THE BOTTOM – I had to fight my way back to the top… I had to fight my way to prove to the people, to my sister, to myself that I deserve to be in the same profession as them! That I deserve to be in the same ring as them! That I deserve to be able to call myself–” Jennie takes up the championship and holds it up for the camera to see, “–the IWF Women’s World Champion! I earned this. I earned the right to call myself the champion.” She lowers the championship back down.

“I earned the right to stand in the main event of Night of the Immortals for the second year in a row as the defending champion! I earned it.” Now standing at the top of the stairs, she repeats the statement, not as a means to convince herself that this is all true, but rather to tell the audience that it is true– to tell all of the people in the back that it’s true.

“But there’s still so many of you that want to tell me my story… Brooklyn wants to tell me my story, April wants to tell me my story, and you, Charlotte, want to tell me my story, and so…” Jennie leans back slightly, pursing her lips together, “Go ahead. Tell me my story. Tell me about me. Tell me about how I grew up as a legacy because I have a sister – who I didn’t meet until I was thirteen-years-old, mind you – who got into the ring and proved to the world that she’s one of the best! Tell me more about how I don’t deserve to call myself a champion…and how I didn’t have to work as hard as you, and I didn’t go through this, and I didn’t go through that, and I didn’t have to deal with…whatever else you want to throw at me. Please,” Jennie gestures a hand forward as if beckoning Charlotte with an invitation, “tell me more.”

The room falls silent for quite some time after…Jennie leans forward ever so slightly, as if listening intently to the silence before she starts mimicking the sound of a clock, “Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…” She subtly shrugs and brushes her hair back with one hand.

“Y’see, that’s the difference between you and me, Charlie… I never wanted to tear you down when we got into this match. There was– no animosity from me from the beginning, and the only kind I’m feeling now is everything that you brought to the table. From the moment I saw you win Iron Maiden and earn your ticket to face either myself or Jessica Reed – I was ecstatic! I was happy for you! And when I went on to get my arm raised…and retain…my championship… I was excited to share the ring with someone new! I was excited for someone new to climb to the top of the mountain! I just wanted to– congratulate you– but you didn’t see it that way…you saw it as me trying to steal your spotlight, and honey, all I wanted to do was look into the eyes of the person that would challenge me on the grandest stage of them all.” Jennie shakes her head.

“But–” her gaze falters slightly from the camera momentarily, and she licks her lips, “But it seems that you, like everybody else, still want to try to treat me like a footnote. Like, honey–” she raises her eyes again, the lavender irises bright as she narrows her eyes a little, “–did you think I didn’t listen to your interview a couple weeks ago with Willy Carter? You didn’t really have a lot to say about me, but you did have a lot to say about The Murder! Like– do you hear your-fucking-self? You blame me for everything, but then you turn and disrespect me? Ever since this match was made official, you’ve done nothing but disrespect me! You don’t seem to understand that you’ve spent more time talking about them, fighting them, focusing on them than you have me, and now that we’re heading into the main event of night two – I’m going to ensure you fully comprehend why that was your biggest mistake. I’m going to make sure you understand that you sealed your fate when you treated me like I was second to them.”

She fixes the championship back around her waist, adjusting it ever so slightly to ensure that it sits perfectly – she reaches into a pocket and pulls out a beanie that she had stuffed in there, and places it atop her head, the famous Fenix Sisters logo emblazoned with pride. She raises her arms in a manner to find her chi, and takes a deep breath while the corner of her lips curl upward into a confident and radiating smirk, and her eyes remain locked on the camera.

“You are not facing the underdog. That– is what I used to be. When I stepped into the ring with Vivienne Rodgers; I was the underdog. When I stepped into the ring to challenge Caroline Machado for the championship; I was the underdog. When I stepped into the ring to defend the title against Shelly Diamond; I was the underdog. When I stepped into the ring to defend the title against Brooklyn Madrox; I was the underdog. But I lost the title to her just a couple of months later, and in fact, I’m sure you did your homework, and you’re going to remind everybody that it was last year… Night of the Immortals… where I had the title taken away from me by Brooklyn Madrox – as the defending underdog. That was last year. Y’see, I’m not the type of person who’s going to sit, mope, and cry about my lost titles… I’m not Brooklyn… I get my ass back up, dust myself off, and figure out everything I did wrong so that I can come back BETTER. When I stepped into Heiress to the Throne, it became apparent – I’m not the underdog. When I stepped into the ring to challenge Brooklyn Madrox at Metamorphosis, I was no longer the underdog! When I took the title away from her! I! WAS NOT! THE UNDERDOG!” She takes a momentary pause, scrunching her face slightly while maintaining her powerful stance. The stance in itself shows Jennie’s transformation from being the underdog to being the champion that she is. She cocks her head to the side, strands of her hair dangling as she does.

“I look at The Murder, I look at Birds of Prey, and I’m going to go ahead and tell you exactly what I see when I look at every single one of you: beneath me. Not on my level. I look at you, Charlie, and I think of how you’re getting yourself hyped up for our match…how you’re telling yourself that this is going to be your night, this is going to be the night that you become the champion! And– you’re good, Charlie, you are– you came in as the breakout star of the year. You had probably one of the biggest shocks of the year when you became the number one contender for the title. Life is good, innit?” Jennie asks with a little more sass in her tone.

“You’re good… but I’m better.”

Pursing her lips together, she tilts her head toward the camera slightly as if to give a subtle nod.

“Y’see, there’s only one thing that matters at the end of the day, and there’s only one thing that makes any of us the best that this business has to offer, and that’s this–” she says whilst tapping her knuckles against the front plate of the championship belt, “–and it’s mine! It’s what I earned! It’s what I wear! It’s what I am! So if the eight of you would like to continue fighting over who is going to be second place…that’s fine…you can continue to overlook me, you can continue to think that you’re somehow better than me, and you can continue to drop all the names you want and try to bury mine. But the reality is that I’m the champion, and whether you like it or not, I’m the one you have to beat. So how ‘bout I give you a little word of advice?” Falling into a crouch position, Jennie licks her lips again and hunches forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

“Stop focusing on the people who don’t matter – The Murder doesn’t matter. They haven’t mattered since they started, and they matter even less since Brooklyn lost the belt. They stopped mattering last week when you pinned my sweet Brookie. Start focusing on me, and put some respect to my fucking name…see you Sunday, bitch.” Jennie presses her hand to her lips and blows a kiss to the camera.

FADE TO FUCKING BLACK.