Post by Paige Garcia on Feb 27, 2017 5:00:45 GMT
CRYSTAL MILLAR!!!
COME ON DOWN!
YOU’RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE GOT MY ASS KICKED BY PAIGE GARCIA SHOW!
Some corny, really cheesy music plays in the background as the scene clicks on and my phone is up on a tripod, aimed at me, spinning around, checking out every new aspect of the brand new dress Brian had bought me for our dinner date.
How...good...do...I...look right now!?
I spun around toward the camera, away from the mirror, gliding my hands down my figure, showing off my curves in the body hugging dress, a huge smile on my face.
Don’t answer that. I know how good I look and I don’t need the opinions of peasants to appease me. What I do need is a bit of an explanation as to why I’m facing Crystal Millar at Danger Zone. I mean, seriously, what has she done lately? She’s beaten Amber Richards, but everyone seems to be doing that. OH! I KNOW! Maybe it’s losing to Fiona McFly?
I throw my hands in the air, totally confused at the situation at hand.
I mean, seriously, isn’t there a new face in the crowd? Isn’t there a woman more deserving than some wannabe Garcia with a couple of wins to her resume?
I walk over, out of view of the camera and grab the Diamonds Championship off the bed, slowly sliding over my bare shoulder.
Do you understand what this means to me Crystal? Do you understand why I go out there and defend this championship every chance a contender is determined, just as I did the Shieldmaiden before it?
I hold my hand out and nod in an admitted fashion.
I mean, other than to prove I’m better than every single woman on the roster.
I get more serious.
I do it to prove the respect for this title that I have. A championship, something as grand as this title, something as symbolic as this shiny piece of gold on a red leather strap, should be celebrated. I’m not like others who have come before me, holding a title only to tuck it away and not defend it, amassing months long title reigns that in the end are utterly meaningless.
I glare into the camera.
You know who you are.
I walk over and turn the tripod toward the bed as I sit on it’s edge, staring at the championship hanging over my shoulder.
This belt is a symbolism of more than just being the best on the roster at the moment. This belt is a representation of all the hard work I’ve put in over the years I’ve been training to get in that ring in front of the people in the arena, and the millions watching on the IWF Network.
This is vindication.
This…
I slide the belt off my shoulder and place it in both of my hands in front of me. I look down at the shine off the golden center plate, a tear possibly in my eye as my dark wavy hair falls down the side of my face.
This is everything I ever dreamed for, and now it’s in the palm of my hands.
I look up at the camera.
You can’t possibly imagine that feeling Crystal. You can’t know what it’s like to be in my spot because as many chances as you’ve been given, as much as you’ve scratched and clawed your way up to the glass ceiling, you’ve failed, much like Fiona, time and time again to shatter the bounds of the thick glass plate, preventing you from achieving the greatness you deem yourself worthy of.
I hold out the championship.
Take a look Crystal. Love this title, admire it, want it, and in the end...know you’ll never have it...especially not from me.
I stand from the bed, the title still outstretched, away from my body.
This may sound cliche Crystal, but I fought harder for this championship than anyone could possibly imagine. I overcame the labels of “Diva” and “fake” to show this world what kind of wrestler I am...what kind of CHAMPION I am. The Shieldmaiden Title reign, the longest of all time, the one that lasted one hundred and fifty-four days, was no fluke, it was no joke, it was one hundred percent legit...and this Diamonds Title reign...the one that began by beating a woman who has exemplified this division for years...is no different.
I pull the title over my shoulder and then point to the camera.
If you think I’m going to let this reign end prematurely...you’re mistaken.
If you think you’re the one who is going to end my reign...again...you’re mistaken.
The reign of the Queen of Diamonds will out live most, and in the end, this reign will be known as so much more...as a legacy.
MY...LEGACY!
I reach forward and turn off the camera, the scene cutting to black.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Only Worry About What You Can Control
COME ON DOWN!
YOU’RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE GOT MY ASS KICKED BY PAIGE GARCIA SHOW!
Some corny, really cheesy music plays in the background as the scene clicks on and my phone is up on a tripod, aimed at me, spinning around, checking out every new aspect of the brand new dress Brian had bought me for our dinner date.
How...good...do...I...look right now!?
I spun around toward the camera, away from the mirror, gliding my hands down my figure, showing off my curves in the body hugging dress, a huge smile on my face.
Don’t answer that. I know how good I look and I don’t need the opinions of peasants to appease me. What I do need is a bit of an explanation as to why I’m facing Crystal Millar at Danger Zone. I mean, seriously, what has she done lately? She’s beaten Amber Richards, but everyone seems to be doing that. OH! I KNOW! Maybe it’s losing to Fiona McFly?
I throw my hands in the air, totally confused at the situation at hand.
I mean, seriously, isn’t there a new face in the crowd? Isn’t there a woman more deserving than some wannabe Garcia with a couple of wins to her resume?
I walk over, out of view of the camera and grab the Diamonds Championship off the bed, slowly sliding over my bare shoulder.
Do you understand what this means to me Crystal? Do you understand why I go out there and defend this championship every chance a contender is determined, just as I did the Shieldmaiden before it?
I hold my hand out and nod in an admitted fashion.
I mean, other than to prove I’m better than every single woman on the roster.
I get more serious.
I do it to prove the respect for this title that I have. A championship, something as grand as this title, something as symbolic as this shiny piece of gold on a red leather strap, should be celebrated. I’m not like others who have come before me, holding a title only to tuck it away and not defend it, amassing months long title reigns that in the end are utterly meaningless.
I glare into the camera.
You know who you are.
I walk over and turn the tripod toward the bed as I sit on it’s edge, staring at the championship hanging over my shoulder.
This belt is a symbolism of more than just being the best on the roster at the moment. This belt is a representation of all the hard work I’ve put in over the years I’ve been training to get in that ring in front of the people in the arena, and the millions watching on the IWF Network.
This is vindication.
This…
I slide the belt off my shoulder and place it in both of my hands in front of me. I look down at the shine off the golden center plate, a tear possibly in my eye as my dark wavy hair falls down the side of my face.
This is everything I ever dreamed for, and now it’s in the palm of my hands.
I look up at the camera.
You can’t possibly imagine that feeling Crystal. You can’t know what it’s like to be in my spot because as many chances as you’ve been given, as much as you’ve scratched and clawed your way up to the glass ceiling, you’ve failed, much like Fiona, time and time again to shatter the bounds of the thick glass plate, preventing you from achieving the greatness you deem yourself worthy of.
I hold out the championship.
Take a look Crystal. Love this title, admire it, want it, and in the end...know you’ll never have it...especially not from me.
I stand from the bed, the title still outstretched, away from my body.
This may sound cliche Crystal, but I fought harder for this championship than anyone could possibly imagine. I overcame the labels of “Diva” and “fake” to show this world what kind of wrestler I am...what kind of CHAMPION I am. The Shieldmaiden Title reign, the longest of all time, the one that lasted one hundred and fifty-four days, was no fluke, it was no joke, it was one hundred percent legit...and this Diamonds Title reign...the one that began by beating a woman who has exemplified this division for years...is no different.
I pull the title over my shoulder and then point to the camera.
If you think I’m going to let this reign end prematurely...you’re mistaken.
If you think you’re the one who is going to end my reign...again...you’re mistaken.
The reign of the Queen of Diamonds will out live most, and in the end, this reign will be known as so much more...as a legacy.
MY...LEGACY!
I reach forward and turn off the camera, the scene cutting to black.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Only Worry About What You Can Control
Paige Garcia: I don’t care!
The scene comes to life and the sound of a door slamming can be heard. I come stomping into the scene and have a seat on the edge of my bed in the hotel room. Slowly, the door reopens and we see Sara slipping in, slowly closing it behind her.
Sara Garcia: Paige, it’s really not that bad. A break is good.
Paige Garcia: A break ISN’T good! People forget about you. I’m the freaking Diamonds Champion, and I’m not even on television. What the hell kind of place are we running here?
Sara Garcia: They didn’t say they had nothing for you. They said they’re still trying to come up with a challenger.
Paige Garcia: This is the kind of thing that should be mapped out, but here I am sitting on a hotel bed annoyed out of my mind at the inept booking abilities of a company.
I turn toward her.
Paige Garcia: I want to be known as the best. I want to walk out there night in and night out and beat the crap out of everyone and hold this title high over their head and mine, and I don’t care if the crowd is booing or cheering, as long as they know who the queen is.
She walks over and puts her hand on my shoulder.
Sara Garcia: I get it sweetie. I don’t know what else you want me to say. I can’t snap my fingers and make a challenger appear.
Paige Garcia: UUUUUUGH!
I fall back, my head bouncing off the down blanket folded back neatly behind me, my hair sprawling all over the place. I blow through it, allowing myself room to speak.
Paige Garcia: It’s just frustrating. On top of all of that, Brian can’t make it to the show this weekend.
Sara Garcia: He apologized a bunch of times at dinner. This is a very busy time of year for him with the agency and representing players in various sports.
Paige Garcia: Yeah, I know. Maybe I just need to hear his voice.
Sara Garcia: I’ll go for a walk. Love ya.
Paige Garcia: Love ya too.
She walked out of the room and I sat up, pulling my hair from my face, reaching in my bag and grabbing my phone. It had been almost a week without seeing my love, or only hearing his voice at night when he told me goodnight. I dialed his number and rolled over on my stomach, setting the phone up against the pillows. I waited and he answered with a smile on his face.
Brian Godd: Hello gorgeous.
Just those two words were enough to make a girl blush. Thankfully, I was good at hiding it and just smiled.
Paige Garcia: Awww, you’re so sweet.
Brian Godd: I try. What’s up?
Paige Garcia: I think I’m homesick.
Brian Godd: Oh?
Paige Garcia: Yeah, that combined with some of the frustrations of work. I think I just needed to hear your voice.
He smiled on the other end of the video chat.
Brian Godd: Well, you’re in luck because I just got off the phone with a client, and I have about fifteen minutes to spare before I have to go punch a General Manager in the face...or something like that.
I couldn’t help but laugh. He just knew what buttons to hit, and when I was in some sort of mood, was always able to bring me out of it.
Paige Garcia: Let’s go with “something like that” so you don’t get fired.
He laughed.
Brian Godd: Sometimes I think I’d be perfect for your line of work. You get mad at someone, you take it out on them in the ring.
I rolled my eyes.
Paige Garcia: If that were the case, half of the writers would be through a wall.
Brian Godd: Why? What’s up?
Paige Garcia:[/color] They told me they’re still looking for a contender, and it just frustrates me to no end that I have to wait. I should be on television every single week. I’m the freaking champion!
Brian Godd: Yes, but you’re doing the same thing now that you do when you’re at home.
Paige Garcia: What’s that?
Brian Godd: Worrying too much. I told you, only worry about things you can control. The rest of it will fall in place where it belongs. Don’t worry that creative can’t find you an opponent. Keep showing up, keep beating who they put in front of you, and the rest of the world will have to acknowledge what I already know.
I looked into the phone with a bit of curiosity.
Paige Garcia: Oh? And what would that be?
Brian Godd: That you’re the most beautiful, brilliant ass kicker on their roster.
I smiled, but it was soon taken off my face by the ringing of his business phone.
Brian Godd: Hold on babe.
He nodded and gave a couple “uh-huh”s. He then held his hand over the microphone.
Brian Godd: So much for fifteen minutes. I’ll call you later?
Paige Garcia: You’d better.
Brian Godd: I love you.
Paige Garcia: I love you too.
I reached forward and ended the call. I then rolled on my back, staring up at the tiled ceiling in the hotel.
Paige Garcia: Maybe he’s right.
I sighed. He always knew what to say, much like my sister, yet in a different sort of way, a more calming way. There really is nothing I can do about the creative team scrambling to find an opponent. All I can do is show up day in and day out and represent myself and the company I work for as their champion...as THE champion.
Paige Garcia: Whoever they pick next…
I sat up on the bed.
Paige Garcia: Is going down!
I smile to myself in the mirror as the scene fades.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
The scene fades back in and I’m in a pair of jeans and a tank top, my sandal covered feet dangling from the brick wall I sat atop, my braided hair hanging behind my head. You couldn’t see my eyes as they were covered by a pair of fashionably oversized sunglasses. I put my red lips around the green straw of my delicious coffee drink and was almost immediately indulged by it’s sweet tasty goodness. I turn to the camera held by my lovely sister…
AHHHHHHHHHH!
I set the drink down on the wall next to me and fold my hands together in my lap.
Crystal, there’s only so much in this world we can control. We can control how we go through life. We can adapt ourselves to the world around us and blend in, like normal people…
OR
You can choose to be more like me and blaze your own path through the world. I had quite the childhood, I’m not like all of these others who hated life growing up, and used wrestling as an outlet for my hatred of all things that happened when I was growing up.
I had what I wanted, did what I wanted, within reason, and I do this thing we call wrestling not as an outlet, but as a profession.
I point out to the side.
While the rest mask their fears of the world behind their punches and their barbs of verbal venom, and others, like yourself, try to use this platform as a stepping stone to something that is in your eyes grander...I simply have wanted to do this my entire life.
I saw the legends on the screen and I looked at my sister and I said, “That could be us.”
The camera nods up and down as my sister agrees from behind it.
I have no fantasies about becoming an actress of straight to Blu-Ray movies like yourself. I don’t care if my picture is in a bunch of magazines...it just happens to end up there. All I’ve ever cared about is getting in that ring and proving to the world that the pretty girl could also be the bad ass.
I shrugged my shoulders.
I don’t know why...but nobody believed I could do it. They labeled me, as they did you and others like us; others who were pretty, and caught your eyes with every step they took. I tried to tell them that I was more than that, but in the end Crystal, words just weren’t getting through...something you’re accustomed to.
So unlike you, unlike that twit Fiona, when my words didn’t work...I let the actions speak with a ferocity the likes of which most have never seen before.
I point out to the “others” again.
While “they” didn’t believe in me, I believed in myself ten times greater than “they” ever could anyway. While “they” called me a diva...I showed them I was an ass kicking fiend with a pinch of sexy and a pinch of girly all swirled into one ferocious package.
I point into my chest.
I tore through this division with my sister at my side, yourself included, and rose through the ranks faster than anyone could have ever imagined. Yet “they” still doubted me. So what if I held the Shieldmaiden for one hundred and fifty-four days. So what if I was never really beaten for it. When it came time to face the unbeatable Jessica Reed, I was listed as the underdog and I came out swinging and in the end...I dropped that bitch like a bad habit….because that’s what an ass kicker does.
I jump down from the wall.
I proved “them” wrong Crystal. I did something you’ve been trying to do your whole career.
I beat the unbeatable, and now I am your reigning, defending, Queen of the Diamonds.
It doesn’t end at Danger Zone, and it doesn’t end with you. It didn’t last time...it won’t ever.
Come to Danger Zone Crystal. Bring your best, because just like all of the other times you’ve tried, your best...just isn’t good enough.
I hold my arms out to both sides and look up at the clouds in the sky.
I told you the future was coming! At Diamonds Are Forever...the future became your present!
I slowly bring my head down and smile into the camera.
And I’m telling you now...this present...is here...to stay...for a long...long...TIME!
The scene abruptly cuts to black.
The scene fades back in and I’m in a pair of jeans and a tank top, my sandal covered feet dangling from the brick wall I sat atop, my braided hair hanging behind my head. You couldn’t see my eyes as they were covered by a pair of fashionably oversized sunglasses. I put my red lips around the green straw of my delicious coffee drink and was almost immediately indulged by it’s sweet tasty goodness. I turn to the camera held by my lovely sister…
AHHHHHHHHHH!
I set the drink down on the wall next to me and fold my hands together in my lap.
Crystal, there’s only so much in this world we can control. We can control how we go through life. We can adapt ourselves to the world around us and blend in, like normal people…
OR
You can choose to be more like me and blaze your own path through the world. I had quite the childhood, I’m not like all of these others who hated life growing up, and used wrestling as an outlet for my hatred of all things that happened when I was growing up.
I had what I wanted, did what I wanted, within reason, and I do this thing we call wrestling not as an outlet, but as a profession.
I point out to the side.
While the rest mask their fears of the world behind their punches and their barbs of verbal venom, and others, like yourself, try to use this platform as a stepping stone to something that is in your eyes grander...I simply have wanted to do this my entire life.
I saw the legends on the screen and I looked at my sister and I said, “That could be us.”
The camera nods up and down as my sister agrees from behind it.
I have no fantasies about becoming an actress of straight to Blu-Ray movies like yourself. I don’t care if my picture is in a bunch of magazines...it just happens to end up there. All I’ve ever cared about is getting in that ring and proving to the world that the pretty girl could also be the bad ass.
I shrugged my shoulders.
I don’t know why...but nobody believed I could do it. They labeled me, as they did you and others like us; others who were pretty, and caught your eyes with every step they took. I tried to tell them that I was more than that, but in the end Crystal, words just weren’t getting through...something you’re accustomed to.
So unlike you, unlike that twit Fiona, when my words didn’t work...I let the actions speak with a ferocity the likes of which most have never seen before.
I point out to the “others” again.
While “they” didn’t believe in me, I believed in myself ten times greater than “they” ever could anyway. While “they” called me a diva...I showed them I was an ass kicking fiend with a pinch of sexy and a pinch of girly all swirled into one ferocious package.
I point into my chest.
I tore through this division with my sister at my side, yourself included, and rose through the ranks faster than anyone could have ever imagined. Yet “they” still doubted me. So what if I held the Shieldmaiden for one hundred and fifty-four days. So what if I was never really beaten for it. When it came time to face the unbeatable Jessica Reed, I was listed as the underdog and I came out swinging and in the end...I dropped that bitch like a bad habit….because that’s what an ass kicker does.
I jump down from the wall.
I proved “them” wrong Crystal. I did something you’ve been trying to do your whole career.
I beat the unbeatable, and now I am your reigning, defending, Queen of the Diamonds.
It doesn’t end at Danger Zone, and it doesn’t end with you. It didn’t last time...it won’t ever.
Come to Danger Zone Crystal. Bring your best, because just like all of the other times you’ve tried, your best...just isn’t good enough.
I hold my arms out to both sides and look up at the clouds in the sky.
I told you the future was coming! At Diamonds Are Forever...the future became your present!
I slowly bring my head down and smile into the camera.
And I’m telling you now...this present...is here...to stay...for a long...long...TIME!
The scene abruptly cuts to black.
Well howdy there pardner.