Post by Paige Garcia on Aug 29, 2016 1:37:50 GMT
I can put up the facade.
I can wear the mask and hide behind my glamorous makeup, but in the end…
The scene slowly fades in and I’m sitting on the edge of a ring. I had just finished a sparring session, teaching myself a new move or two to surprise the masses. I’m bracing myself with my hands, clasped around the edge of the apron, my head hung down before slowly turning up to the camera in front of me, a somber, humble look on my face.
There’s only so much a girl can take before she simply explodes. I can’t hold it in any longer, I can’t let it fester, because if I do, my head might explode.
My hand shoots out to the side, my index finger pointing outward.
Time after time I have to hear about how my sister and I have earned nothing. We’re told that we had things handed to us on a silver spoon, and to be blatantly honest with you idiots who spout off at the mouth as if you know something...you couldn’t be farther from the freaking truth.
My hand turns inward, my finger now pointing at myself.
If anything, my sister and I have had to work harder than the rest of you no talent bitches. You have the moves, your lives aren’t as glamorous, and because you came in as only “wrestlers” you were accepted. My sister and me...not so much; despite the fact that this is ALL we’ve wanted to do since early adolescence. Nevermind that the first time I turned on a wrestling show and saw one of the best guys on a microphone ever, hold a crowd in the palm of his hand, them, sitting on the edge of their seats with baited breath, waiting to hear what he’ll say next, I was hooked. Nevermind that my sister was sitting right there next to me and when we turned our heads to one another, we could tell what the other was thinking because both of our sets of eyes were huge.
NO!
SCREW THAT!!!
Because we’re prettier than you.
Screw that right?
We walk into rooms and the attention is on us because unlike the rest of you, we can multi-task and look pretty while kicking your asses right?
I scoot off the apron, my feet hitting the floor.
You know what I say to that? Screw you!
Screw the Crystal Millars who try to emulate my greatness and fail.
Screw Eternity and her weird wacky ways.
Screw Kate Steele and trying to end my career.
Screw Sarah Jade Wilson and her views.
And most importantly…
SCREW YOU FIONA!!!
I point to the camera, pointing into Fiona’s chest...figuratively obviously…
You’re the biggest damn culprit of them all. You talk about doing things the right way. You trash me and my sister at every opportunity, even if we’re not you’re opponent for that week, just because it allows you to sit up at your pulpit and preach morality.
GUESS WHAT!?
We get things done...whereas time and time again, no matter how many times you HAVEN’T earned your title shots...you’ve been given opportunity after opportunity and simply failed over and over again.
I hold out my hands, pumping the breaks.
OHHHHH...BUT WAIT!
YOU WERE THE IRON MAIDEN!!!
YOU BEAT ME!!!
I point to myself. I then turn and walk away, the camera following me into the locker room area, all the way to my bag.
And do you know what people remember from that night Fiona? They remember THIS!
I reach into my locker and pull out the IWF Shieldmaiden Championship Belt, holding it out to be seen by all.
They remember me, winning a championship, and holding it every day since, turning back all challengers time and time again to the point where there’s pretty much nobody left for me to defend against. Do you know why they remember this title win, and reign over your accomplishment Fiona? Do you truly understand the grand scheme of it all?
Because it’s still relevant.
You won the Iron Maiden, yes. You went on to headline Night of the Immortals, yes. Does it eat up at me on the inside?
YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT!
But not for the reasons you think. It doesn’t bother me because you got the spot instead of me, what bothers me is the fact that you pissed it away just like all of your other opportunities.
The fact that YOU failed where I would have shined is what pisses me off. The fact that you let another opportunity fall by the wayside, while I would’ve taken the ball and run with it is what truly pisses me off.
I point into the camera.
You don’t deserve another opportunity Fiona, yet you’re getting it anyway. It’s the story of your career, and just like all of the opportunities...you’ll fail at this one as well. You can’t have this championship because IT’S MINE...AND I WON’T LET YOU!!!
I slam the door of the locker, grab my bag, hurl my title over my shoulder, and walk out of the scene before it cuts.
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“ To Moving Forward “
I can wear the mask and hide behind my glamorous makeup, but in the end…
The scene slowly fades in and I’m sitting on the edge of a ring. I had just finished a sparring session, teaching myself a new move or two to surprise the masses. I’m bracing myself with my hands, clasped around the edge of the apron, my head hung down before slowly turning up to the camera in front of me, a somber, humble look on my face.
There’s only so much a girl can take before she simply explodes. I can’t hold it in any longer, I can’t let it fester, because if I do, my head might explode.
My hand shoots out to the side, my index finger pointing outward.
Time after time I have to hear about how my sister and I have earned nothing. We’re told that we had things handed to us on a silver spoon, and to be blatantly honest with you idiots who spout off at the mouth as if you know something...you couldn’t be farther from the freaking truth.
My hand turns inward, my finger now pointing at myself.
If anything, my sister and I have had to work harder than the rest of you no talent bitches. You have the moves, your lives aren’t as glamorous, and because you came in as only “wrestlers” you were accepted. My sister and me...not so much; despite the fact that this is ALL we’ve wanted to do since early adolescence. Nevermind that the first time I turned on a wrestling show and saw one of the best guys on a microphone ever, hold a crowd in the palm of his hand, them, sitting on the edge of their seats with baited breath, waiting to hear what he’ll say next, I was hooked. Nevermind that my sister was sitting right there next to me and when we turned our heads to one another, we could tell what the other was thinking because both of our sets of eyes were huge.
NO!
SCREW THAT!!!
Because we’re prettier than you.
Screw that right?
We walk into rooms and the attention is on us because unlike the rest of you, we can multi-task and look pretty while kicking your asses right?
I scoot off the apron, my feet hitting the floor.
You know what I say to that? Screw you!
Screw the Crystal Millars who try to emulate my greatness and fail.
Screw Eternity and her weird wacky ways.
Screw Kate Steele and trying to end my career.
Screw Sarah Jade Wilson and her views.
And most importantly…
SCREW YOU FIONA!!!
I point to the camera, pointing into Fiona’s chest...figuratively obviously…
You’re the biggest damn culprit of them all. You talk about doing things the right way. You trash me and my sister at every opportunity, even if we’re not you’re opponent for that week, just because it allows you to sit up at your pulpit and preach morality.
GUESS WHAT!?
We get things done...whereas time and time again, no matter how many times you HAVEN’T earned your title shots...you’ve been given opportunity after opportunity and simply failed over and over again.
I hold out my hands, pumping the breaks.
OHHHHH...BUT WAIT!
YOU WERE THE IRON MAIDEN!!!
YOU BEAT ME!!!
I point to myself. I then turn and walk away, the camera following me into the locker room area, all the way to my bag.
And do you know what people remember from that night Fiona? They remember THIS!
I reach into my locker and pull out the IWF Shieldmaiden Championship Belt, holding it out to be seen by all.
They remember me, winning a championship, and holding it every day since, turning back all challengers time and time again to the point where there’s pretty much nobody left for me to defend against. Do you know why they remember this title win, and reign over your accomplishment Fiona? Do you truly understand the grand scheme of it all?
Because it’s still relevant.
You won the Iron Maiden, yes. You went on to headline Night of the Immortals, yes. Does it eat up at me on the inside?
YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT!
But not for the reasons you think. It doesn’t bother me because you got the spot instead of me, what bothers me is the fact that you pissed it away just like all of your other opportunities.
The fact that YOU failed where I would have shined is what pisses me off. The fact that you let another opportunity fall by the wayside, while I would’ve taken the ball and run with it is what truly pisses me off.
I point into the camera.
You don’t deserve another opportunity Fiona, yet you’re getting it anyway. It’s the story of your career, and just like all of the opportunities...you’ll fail at this one as well. You can’t have this championship because IT’S MINE...AND I WON’T LET YOU!!!
I slam the door of the locker, grab my bag, hurl my title over my shoulder, and walk out of the scene before it cuts.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
“ To Moving Forward “
The scene comes in and me and Brian are heading to a restaurant for our first date night since before Sara moved into the guest room of Brian’s house. He took my hand and looked over at me with a smile on my face.
Brian Godd: It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to do something like this.
Paige Garcia: I know, and I appreciate you allowing me to help my sister through such a tough time.
He shook his head.
Brian Godd: It’s really not a problem. I would have done the same if I had siblings. That was a tough thing that happened to her. I’m glad we were able to help her, and even more glad she was able to get on her own two feet and get that condo.
Paige Garcia: I knew she’d get through it. She’s as tough as me, and together, we can get through anything.
I felt the squeeze from his hand grow slightly tighter.
Brian Godd: Just like us.
The smile reappeared on my face as I tightened my own grip. We pulled into the valet section of Bice Ristorante San Diego, a well known, high end Italian Restaurant. The two of us got out of the car, and he handed the keys over and got his ticket. We head through the frosted glass doors with strange geometric patterns on them and the smell of random Italian dishes hit my nose, causing me to close my eyes and simply enjoy the aroma.
The hostess met us at her podium and motioned us forward, leading us to our seats. We passed some people, staring at the two of us, him looking dashing in his blazer, and me looking fabulous as ever in a shimmery black dress with straps running up and down my back. Brian held out my chair for me as I sat down, and then proceeded to take his seat on the other side. The hostess then asked if we wanted any drink.
Brian Godd: We’ll take that one.
He pointed to a wine on the list, and the hostess nodded and took the list, walking away to retrieve what was asked for.
Brian Godd: What do you say we do this once a week?
Paige Garcia: Works for me. You know I love to be wined and dined.
He laughed a bit.
Brian Godd: Yes...I do.
He took my hand and kissed it before allowing me to pull it back to look at the menu. We glanced it over before the waitress came back with our wine order. He poured us a couple of glasses, leaving the rest on the table, giving us time to look over the menu some more.
Paige Garcia: This feels kind of weird.
Brian Godd: What’s that?
Paige Garcia: Just the two of us, enjoying each others company...it’s...it’s nice.
He shot me a wink before turning back down to the menu, me doing the same. A few minutes later, the waiter showed up.
Waiter: Welcome to Bice, my name is Antonio, and I’ll be your server today. Are we ready?
The two of us nod.
Brian Godd: We’ll take some Fritto Misto di Pesce e Cavolfiore (Calamari) to start.
Antonio: Great choice sir; and for your main course?
Brian Godd: Hmmm...I’ll take the Salmone Alla Piastra (Salmon and Asparagus).
Antonio: That is one of our most popular dishes.
He turned to me.
Antonio: For this beautiful young lady?
Paige Garcia: Awww, thanks. I’ll have the same thing with the Salmon. I’ll just steal some of his appetizer.
Antonio: Okay. I’ll have that put in right now.
He took our menus and walked away. I looked to my right, where Sara would usually sit, and I sighed a bit. I looked down at my hands, my thumbs twirling one over the other, and Brian noticed my bit of sorrow.
Brian Godd: What is it?
Paige Garcia: I don’t know. I guess...I guess I’m having a little separation anxiety.
Brian Godd: Over Sara? She just moved out.
Paige Garcia: I know. And this is all perfectly wonderful, I just miss her already. We’ve done everything together, and it just seems kind of weird, ya know?
Brian Godd: I guess. I bet she’d want you to enjoy this night without her though. I bet she’s having fun relaxing and being to herself after so many hectic weeks.
I thought about what he had to say. He had a point. Things for her have been chaotic to say the least, and a little of that has brushed off on me. I finally have this time to relax, to decompress, to let loose, and I should take advantage of that.
Paige Garcia: You know what? You’re right. It’s a good night, I’m in good company, we’re about to have some delicious looking food. I’m going to enjoy the night.
I reached forward and raised my glass.
Paige Garcia: To us...moving forward.
Brian Godd: To moving forward.
He raised his glass and the two of us clanked glasses before taking sips of the simply to die for wine. I smiled at him and him at me as the scene fades out.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
As the scene returns, I’m walking down the cobblestone like walkway somewhere in Boston Harbor, looking out to the water that eventually succumbs to the might of the Atlantic Ocean. The wind off of the Harbor was enough to send my hair cascading behind me as the sun beamed down upon me, inducing warmth that kept me comfortable as I just stood there. Slowly I turn to the camera with a smirk on my face.
I didn’t mean to leave you in such a bitchfit earlier Fiona. It’s just...you irritate me. The mere thought of you is enough to piss me off to certain levels that are just unobtainable by others. I can’t stand you or your ideals. I can’t stand your false sense of moral superiority. I can’t stand your brand of logic…
I...CAN’T...STAND...YOU!!!
I stare out into the harbor again. I take in a deep breath and slowly let out a relaxing sigh.
Fiona, everyone comes to a point for a reason.
I hold my arms out toward the water, showcasing it in all of its glory.
Take this for example. I came here to see the glory of this beautiful harbor. I came to watch the waves crash against the breakwall, against the wall below my feet. I came here to breathe in the historic air of Boston.
What’s your purpose Fiona?
What reason do you have for getting in that ring with me at the Heir to the Throne Special?
I get you want my Shieldmaiden Title, that’s obvious, but there has to be something more.
Let me take a stab at this.
You want to rid the world of the evil Garcia Twins don’t you? You want to vanquish us from this world, and have everything be fun again, don’t you?
I shake my head.
No that was a few months ago...my bad.
I hold my finger to my chin, thinking back to yet another reason Fiona might have for hating me and my sister so much.
Maybe it’s jealousy? Perhaps you know that you’ll never, not even for a single day, amount to being as successful as my sister and I.
I nod.
That could be it...but just in case it isn’t, let’s try another option, shall we?
I stand there for a moment, grabbing hold of the thick chain in front of me and leaning forward. I stare out to the water again, not a sound coming from my voice. I wait, and wait, and then suddenly, I push myself off the chain and smack my hands together.
AHA!!
I GOT IT!
This is the checkpoint for you, isn’t it Fiona? It’s a stop in your long journey of self-discovery, to finding yourself in this vast world full of options. You said you could beat anyone on the roster last week. You said you have the ability, and yet, you can’t prove it. You won the Iron Maiden, but ever since, you haven’t done anything. Any other time you’ve faced me, you couldn’t beat me again, and Heir to the Throne won’t be any different.
I walk over and see a bench where I have a seat, crossing my legs.
You’re being handed an opportunity, and again, it will be snatched from your grasp. You’re being given a chance, one on one in the center of that ring with my Shieldmaiden Championship on the line to prove every single doubter you have wrong...but again...you won’t.
You can’t fluke your way to a win this time Fiona. There aren’t four other women in this match to soften me up, or weaken me. It’s you and me, mono y mono, and I have nobody else to focus on but you.
I stand up from the bench and dust off my shorts.
So bring it all Fiona. Bring your misconceptions, bring your anger, bring your jealousy, bring your false sense of morality, bring your fun, and above all else, bring your skills...or lack thereof, and I’ll show you how much the wrestling world means to me. I’ll show you full well what being champion means to me...and then...maybe then...you can talk all you want, because at least after I beat you and retain MY title at Heir to the Throne...you might have some semblance of a clue.
I blow a kiss to the camera and walk off as the scene fades.
As the scene returns, I’m walking down the cobblestone like walkway somewhere in Boston Harbor, looking out to the water that eventually succumbs to the might of the Atlantic Ocean. The wind off of the Harbor was enough to send my hair cascading behind me as the sun beamed down upon me, inducing warmth that kept me comfortable as I just stood there. Slowly I turn to the camera with a smirk on my face.
I didn’t mean to leave you in such a bitchfit earlier Fiona. It’s just...you irritate me. The mere thought of you is enough to piss me off to certain levels that are just unobtainable by others. I can’t stand you or your ideals. I can’t stand your false sense of moral superiority. I can’t stand your brand of logic…
I...CAN’T...STAND...YOU!!!
I stare out into the harbor again. I take in a deep breath and slowly let out a relaxing sigh.
Fiona, everyone comes to a point for a reason.
I hold my arms out toward the water, showcasing it in all of its glory.
Take this for example. I came here to see the glory of this beautiful harbor. I came to watch the waves crash against the breakwall, against the wall below my feet. I came here to breathe in the historic air of Boston.
What’s your purpose Fiona?
What reason do you have for getting in that ring with me at the Heir to the Throne Special?
I get you want my Shieldmaiden Title, that’s obvious, but there has to be something more.
Let me take a stab at this.
You want to rid the world of the evil Garcia Twins don’t you? You want to vanquish us from this world, and have everything be fun again, don’t you?
I shake my head.
No that was a few months ago...my bad.
I hold my finger to my chin, thinking back to yet another reason Fiona might have for hating me and my sister so much.
Maybe it’s jealousy? Perhaps you know that you’ll never, not even for a single day, amount to being as successful as my sister and I.
I nod.
That could be it...but just in case it isn’t, let’s try another option, shall we?
I stand there for a moment, grabbing hold of the thick chain in front of me and leaning forward. I stare out to the water again, not a sound coming from my voice. I wait, and wait, and then suddenly, I push myself off the chain and smack my hands together.
AHA!!
I GOT IT!
This is the checkpoint for you, isn’t it Fiona? It’s a stop in your long journey of self-discovery, to finding yourself in this vast world full of options. You said you could beat anyone on the roster last week. You said you have the ability, and yet, you can’t prove it. You won the Iron Maiden, but ever since, you haven’t done anything. Any other time you’ve faced me, you couldn’t beat me again, and Heir to the Throne won’t be any different.
I walk over and see a bench where I have a seat, crossing my legs.
You’re being handed an opportunity, and again, it will be snatched from your grasp. You’re being given a chance, one on one in the center of that ring with my Shieldmaiden Championship on the line to prove every single doubter you have wrong...but again...you won’t.
You can’t fluke your way to a win this time Fiona. There aren’t four other women in this match to soften me up, or weaken me. It’s you and me, mono y mono, and I have nobody else to focus on but you.
I stand up from the bench and dust off my shorts.
So bring it all Fiona. Bring your misconceptions, bring your anger, bring your jealousy, bring your false sense of morality, bring your fun, and above all else, bring your skills...or lack thereof, and I’ll show you how much the wrestling world means to me. I’ll show you full well what being champion means to me...and then...maybe then...you can talk all you want, because at least after I beat you and retain MY title at Heir to the Throne...you might have some semblance of a clue.
I blow a kiss to the camera and walk off as the scene fades.
Well howdy there pardner.