Erech Apayim

[Abigail]

As hard as it was to turn the other cheek in life, it was damn near impossible in the world of professional wrestling. In fact, Abigail Spencer had been paid handsomely by Roberto Verona for several years now precisely not to do that, and to instead react and retaliate against every slight because that was at the heart of a hot product.

So, for better or worse, here she was, on a double date with Eternity and big brother Jeremiah and his date, Gretchen Winston, wrestling with the fact that a good few years before the sheer brute force of Cyrus Daniels had utterly devastated all four of her big brothers physically, the rich sweetness of Vivienne Rodgers had absolutely devastated them emotionally. Where Cyrus had been a tornado, Vivienne had been a whirlwind, and consequently Abigail had a most unique perspective on why they belonged together and were actually perfect for each other.

Abigail didn’t have these sorts of epiphanies often, but when she did they seemed to occur at the oddest times and in the strangest places. This one was no exception, as she currently had one leg straddled over a green bamboo stick, as she hopped on the other to spread the dough that she had prepared earlier in the class to make Ramen noodles in the traditional Chinese way, Aodake-uchi.

A first date at the Shin-Yokohama Ramen museum was unique and yet typical of her eldest brother. Any girl he could not impress at the gym, he appealed to as a man who knew his way around the kitchen, and oriental food culture was a vital part of what Abigail at least considered a most memorable date. Gretchen seemed to be enjoying herself, and kept winking at Jeremiah and playing with her hair, whilst she hopped on her Aodake, suggestively.

Abigail never paid much attention to heterosexual flirting, but when she did she always thought it was wild. Far more overt than lesbian flirting at least, or maybe Abigail was just terrible at expressing her interest so openly. Jeremiah blushed terribly and that only made Gretchen laugh and call him adorable. It was going well, Abigail believed.

After they were done spreading the dough, they were paired off into two groups, Gretchen with Eternity and Abigail with Jeremiah and guided through how to cut and shape the dough into the actual noodles.

“So what do ya think, little bird?” Jeremiah asked. “Think she’s interested?”

“I’d say so,” Abigail nodded, “Much more than Vivienne was, anyway. Sure ya had the size, but way too many green flags for her.” Abigail laughed. “I’m glad you’re movin’ on an’ bein’ more proactive. Ya deserve happiness too.”

“Ya were the only one of us who didn’t have a crush on her,” Jeremiah smiled. “It was so embarrassin’, especially when Bucky scared her away with his usual jackassery. Thanks for never tellin’ her about our four way crush on her. I will always owe ya for that.”

“Wouldn’t have been fair ta tell her. She’d only upset y’all even if she was interested in one of ya. Even then I think she’d have been too nice ta pick an’ risk upsettin’ the others.”

“You’re probably right, not that Gretchen is a second choice or anythin’, more that I think she’s the somethin’ better the Lord had planned for me, ya know?”

“Steady there cowboy, don’t wanna be scarin’ her off on the first date with talk like that, at least not until ya know she believes.”

“Oh I know, I’m just sayin’, I feel more for her than I ever did Vivienne,” Jeremiah glanced over and then quickly back before she noticed. “Be kinda funny if we all end up with a Winston.”

“Don’t think Bucky’s got a chance personally.”

“Technically, he already took it,” Jeremiah said. “Slept with Dixie at Ricky’s weddin’, whilst they were helpin’ decorate the bridal suite, apparently.”

“Shut up! Ya serious? An’ he told ya about it?”

“Had ta brag ta someone, ya know how he is,” Jeremiah said. “Ricky don’t know.”

“Good Lord Above, keep it that way will ya?”

“‘Course I will,” Jeremiah promised. “I ain’t in the habit of kickin’ the bee’s nest.”

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“He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city.” - Proverbs XVI: 32.

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Alone, in a beautiful white off the shoulder dress and black boots, Abigail, in black eye makeup and glossy lipstick, sat cross-legged on the grass at Osanbashi Pier. Given Vivienne’s love of water, it felt appropriate for Abigail to meditate on her coming battle with a woman she had worked hard to forgive for so many of her questionable life choices, particularly over the last four years and how rough they had been on her brothers. Vivienne Rodgers was the stone cast into The Spencer family lake once more, only this time Abigail would feel the ripples of her disturbance alone.

She raised her head slowly and her eyes fluttered open. She took a series of slow, deep breaths, drawing strength and peace from the relative tranquility of the picturesque environment. Abigail smiled, calm and composed, determined to be better than her opponent this week.

Not a lot of people know this, but from a certain point of view, I owe so much of who I am today ta Vivienne Rodgers. Vivienne Rodgers is not only a good friend, but she is also the reason why I have in recent years been able ta reconcile the fact that I simply could not go on pretendin’ I’m somethin’ I ain’t an’ have never been. See, Spike Kane wanted me ta play up the CSA survivor angle as Freya, told me it’d garner the right kinda sympathy ta be accepted around here. I didn’t even know if his sister really was a CSA survivor or if it’s just as fake as at least one of his cancer diagnoses, I just respected him too much as a mentor to challenge his guidance.

Against my better judgment, I did play it up a little, an’ I had no real problem with any of it until the Rodgers’ family abuse scandal rocked the world an’ that Jacob Rodgers only daughter really was a sexual abuse survivor. Suddenly playin’ one at work just didn’t sit right with me. It felt disrespectful ta the actual experiences of one of my closest friends. Horrors I still can’t fathom livin’ through maself, but Vivienne Rodgers not only lived through them, but came out the other side so much stronger.

For that alone, Vivienne Rodgers has my deepest respect, eternally.

For that alone, I’m proud ta call the woman who was one half of the first ever women’s main event in Immortals history, my friend. I’m proud of everythin’ she’s achieved professionally an’ more than a little envious that she made it inta the Hall Of Fame before me. I ain’t in the business of frontin’ or twistin’ the narrative. I call it like I see it an’ Rodgers absolutely deserves the privilege of bein’ a Hall of Famer a lot more than say Fiona McFly in my eyes, so I will never downplay or deny Vivienne’s position in IWF history.

However, as much as I respect her accomplishments, I simply won’t allow her bright past ta outshine my still brighter future. I absolutely will not be victimised or made an example of just ‘cause she’s decided ta abandon most of her senses an’ become utterly consumed by her inconsolable rage rather than transcend it. I’m sure she feels justified. I’m sure she tells herself that this is just about gettin’ ta Jennie ta hurt Dean ‘cause she hurt Rowan MacDonnough, a Devil she now feels indebted to for settin’ her free or somethin’.

Now I know better than even tryna argue with someone so steadfastly committed ta their beliefs, misguided as they may be, so I won’t. I will simply ask her ta consider the price of the freedom she now relishes. See, there is always a price ta pay, most especially when bargainin’ with Satan herself, an’ the price Vivienne Rodgers paid for her salvation was ta spit in the face of every single one of the women that Rowan ever put down at any point in her career over the few years that she rose ta power an’ prominence in this company square in the face, an’ ta do so without so much as a second thought, apparently.

Includin’ but not limited ta me.

Now I know loyalty, love, justice an’ faith are often all blind, but that doesn’t mean Vivienne has any excuse ta be willingly ignorant an’ just shut her eyes tight ta the ugly truth of the beast she’s voluntarily indentured herself to. I know it upsets the whole Murder narrative, but honestly none of what happened ta Rowan was undeserved.

In fact I’d argue it was long overdue an’ Dean Harper was perfectly justified in what he did to your precious saviour, Vivienne. Sure we could sit around an’ argue if there really needed ta be as much collateral damage as he left behind. I’m even willin’ ta concede that he should’ve been more selective an’ not taken out Astrid or Virginia, but I’m not sure a man pushed ta his breaking point has the luxury of meticulous plannin’. Vivienne may be so consumed by her latest quest for a bloody vengeance that she’s engaged in little more than selective outrage at this point, but I will never forget that Rowan MacDonnough has destroyed many more lives an’ shortened many more careers than she’s ever saved.

Before she saved you, she slaughtered me, an’ she did it without a shred of remorse.

But as long as I’m standin’ between ya an your new mission ta hurt Dean even indirectly, ya don’t care about that do ya? As much as I wish ya could still see me as a friend this week, just the idea that you’re willin’ ta sacrifice me ta the alter of avengin’ Rowan fuckin’ MacDonnough shows me where your priorities lie an’ frankly also clarifies the sorry state of our current friendship.

Just ‘cause you get your kicks by bein’ treated like a disposable object, it don’t give ya any right ta treat me like that. If ya ain’t gonna bother ta treat me like a person this week, then I guess I don’t need ta feel as guilty about hurtin’ ya ta hurt Cyrus either. If I really am just a means through which ta avenge Rowan, then please don’t be so surprised when I treat ya with exactly the kinda disrespect you’ve shown me an’ say you’re just a means for me ta avenge my family too.

It really didn’t have ta be like this, Vivienne.

I was content ta just put on a showcase between former World Champions, an’ say may the best woman win, but it’s clear now that someone needs ta slap some sense inta ya an’ your husband, an’ not in the way that makes ya weak at the knees.

Guess it’s gotta be me, regretfully.

So I asked myself, what’s the best way ta beat the bastard who beat my brothers ta a bloody pulp without so much as an apology from his wife, the woman who is supposed ta be my friend? I ain’t ever gonna be a physical match for the Aussie man-mountain, so I’m gonna send him a message in the only language the two of ya seem ta understand anymore.

Stiflin’ your dominance is stiflin’ his dominance.

Can’t be a power couple who dominate the tournament anymore if I put down his better half, can ya? An’ whatever else ya may be, I know you are his better half.

I just have ta be an even better whole.