A Win IS A Win

[Paige Garcia]

The scene comes into focus and I’m all alone. No sister behind me, no fancy clothes or setting, just me, in a gym, sitting on the bench after a hard workout that you could only dream of doing. I re-tie my hair back in a ponytail before looking up at the camera.

Phew…what a workout.

So this is the week. This is the chance to prove once and for all that I’m the most dominant Diamond of this supposed uprising; this new breed as it is.

I mean, my sister and I have proven we’re better than all the other girls in this match because we’re REAL women, and not little girls like all the rest, or some old hag like Mercedes or Emma, in wrestling career terms.

We’ve beaten you all and quite frankly I don’t see why we have to prove our superiority over you all again. This match shouldn’t even be happening and IF ANYTHING should be a one on one match between my sister and myself…or…you know…we could share it.

I smile. I don’t really want to share a title with my sister unless it’s mine first and foremost…then she can borrow it. I shake my head as I think of the meager competition sitting in front of me.

But if we must have this match I might as well tell you why it is I’m going to win. Let’s start with Kayla Richards shall we? You know…the OTHER Richards sister. The sister nobody cares about. The one who claims to be this badass in the likes of an Eliza or Ana or Amber…when she was good…and yet you’re absolutely NOWHERE NEAR as good as any of them. You couldn’t hand wash their underwear you pathetic little brat.

I on the other hand, can now say I’ve beaten them all…one way…or another and soon, I’ll get my crack at Eternity, or Alexis Caffrey and I’ll beat them too…you know…like I did your sister and lover…I know you love hearing that all the time.

I hold my hand up to my chin.

By the way…didn’t I beat you too? Oh, yeah, that’s right…the week before.

I shake my hands in front of me, dismissing it all.

But nobody remembers that…because like I said…you don’t matter.

I let out a sigh as I think of the next opponent…another who doesn’t matter.

Speaking of those who don’t matter…there’s Mercedes Vargas.

I look disgusted…and I am.

I mean really? How many times can I verbally abuse the same woman over and over again before she finally realizes I’m her superior in every way shape and form? Mercedes, you can go on and on with your stats, you can remind us all of your long, unimpressive Ruby Title reign but in the end, I’m going to prove what I’ve proven in the past.

I can talk better than you.

I drag my hand along my body as if to show it off.

I look better than you.

And I…and this is most important…PERFORM better than you.

I shrug my shoulders. There’s not much else to say.

So what’s left to say Mercedes? I could tell you I’m going to beat you…but everybody knows that. I can tell you that you’re irrelevant…but again…everyone knows that. So basically, show up, get beat, go home, and maybe this time you’ll realize…you shouldn’t come back.

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My sister and I had just “beaten” Ana Jones. The show had gone to a commercial as I stormed up the ramp, my sister following as we went back through the curtain, I take the bottle of water that was handed to me and continue storming through.

Paige Garcia: Grrr.

Sara Garcia: What’s your problem?

I whipped around and looked at her.

Paige Garcia: Are you serious right now?

Sara Garcia: What!?

She genuinely looked shocked.

Paige Garcia: You really like winning like that? You like getting rundown by some two-bit trashy whore?

Sara Garcia: Not in particular.

Paige Garcia: GOD!

I whip the bottle down the hall, nearly hitting a backstage worker.

Paige Garcia: What a total load of crap!

I turned away from her, clearly frustrated, breathing heavy. I didn’t like winning by some stupid technicality. I wanted to beat Ana Jones and prove I was better than her.

Sara Garcia: A win is a win Paige.

Paige Garcia: It’s not though. There’s no satisfaction, no joyous feeling. I want that feeling of being the better woman and I don’t get that at all, and it sucks! This almost feels like a loss.

It was time for her to do her job again. It was me overreacting to something stupid rather than focusing on the future, the bright future, the shot at the Shieldmaiden Championship put before the two of us. She put her hand on my shoulder and turned me back toward her, grabbing my other shoulder with her other hand.

Sara Garcia: Hey, it’s not all doom and gloom here. We beat Emma and Mercedes last week. We technically beat Ana this week. We’re rolling into the Shieldmaiden match with all the momentum in the world. Either one of us has a shot. Either one of us can call ourselves champion after next weekend. Our first goal is within reach…we need to take advantage of that.

I thought about what she had to say. She was right. Since we were little girls, the two of us dreamed of being wrestling champions. We had the fake belts from our brother, we’d beat him up all the time, though he’ll never admit it, and we claimed ourselves the champions of the Garcias. It was all fun and games back then, a reality we thought we’d never get to experience and yet here it is…right in front of us, the chance to be real champions only a week away. I nodded.

Paige Garcia: Okay, okay. I can’t focus on the stupidity that was tonight. That bitch will get hers eventually. I have to focus on becoming the first Shieldmaiden Champion in history.

Sara Garcia: Or coming second to me.

She smiles as I roll my eyes.

Paige Garcia: Don’t start that again.

Sara Garcia: Okay fine.

She sticks her tongue out playfully as a smile crosses my face.

Paige Garcia: Besides…I’m winning.

I make a break for it and she starts the chase as the scene fades.

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I’m now dressed in a cute pair of jeans and cropped top. I have my sunglasses on the top of my head and I’m ready to go…but first…I have some more to dish out on my opponents at Extreme Endurance.

So, I’m guessing this is another shot at glory for you right Emma? I mean, you’re the Queen of Extreme. You’re the one with alllllllll that experience which surely enough is going to trump all the rest in this match right?

You know…that meant so much last week right? I mean, you beat me and my sister into…

I can’t help but bust out into a huge fit of laughter. I try to stop and speak but I can’t and double over laughing even harder, falling to my knees, smacking the cement floor. I find it hard to catch my breath but do and stand to my feet.

You failed Emma…again. You promised this lesson in the wrestling business and you’re the one who was schooled. You told the world that experience was going to trump the flash that is me and my and yet you were wrong…again. So I have to ask you something Emma. How can anyone believe anything you say this week? How can anyone trust you?

The answer…they can’t.

You can say you’re going to come out guns blazing.

You can say you’re going to show the young women in this business what it’s all about, but the reality of the situation is the same as it is with Mercedes. The two of you sat by as the new wave of Diamonds came crashing through, and we simply passed the two of you by, and after Extreme Endurance, my sister and I will continue to see you shrink in our rearview mirror.

I walk over to a mirror and check my hair, stroking it and putting it in place. Satisfied with how I look, ready to go out into the world, I turn back to the camera.

Speaking of rearview mirrors…how about Crystal Hilton? Where have you been of late? You come in and lose to my sister, then disappear again. Should I say “Typical Crystal”? I mean, what have you done other than your HALF a championship? You show up, don’t do anything worth while, and you go away not to be heard from for weeks.

I ponder the thoughts in my head, then speak them out loud.

So I have to wonder Crystal…why the hell are you here? Why the hell are you in this match? Why are you attempting to take the spotlight from girls like me and my sister?

You don’t deserve it.

Not now, not ever, not anytime soon.

There’s a bit of annoyance in my sigh as I slash my hands from right in front of me to the side in a dismissive manner.

Forget it…it doesn’t matter. YOU don’t matter, just like everyone else in this freaking match doesn’t matter. I said it earlier, and I’ll say it again…my sister and I are both leaps and bounds better than the rest of you. The Garcia Brand is more important than all of you. Don’t be surprised when we’re holding the Shieldmaiden Title overhead. After all, it wouldn’t be a shock…and really…it should be expected.

I shoot a wink to anyone watching this.

I’ll see you Sunday girls…can’t wait to beat you…again.

Blowing a kiss, I turn, my hair slicing through the air, and leave the gym as the scene fades.