Post by Boardwalk Angels on May 18, 2017 5:55:45 GMT -5
"People tend to forget the simplest lessons when they get a taste of their dreams. All the hidden pitfalls, the obstacles that pop up out of nowhere and the snakes hiding in plain sight. They just sit there and wait for your guard to drop. I should have seen the past couple of months coming the moment I set hands on the LAW Tag Team Championships. But after going pillar to post with no less than five women en route to Farrah and I capturing the gold, I wanted a little while to savor the taste. And who could blame me? My first-ever championship in professional wrestling, won with someone who's been with me since before the beginning, earned through fighting my way through my now-wife? That's an emotional situation... difficult even when you don't consider the physical aspects. The pressure really does come down on you once you achieve championship-level success. The glory is wonderful and the adulation that comes after is intoxicating. But it doesn't last. And when the bottom drops out, it does so hard. I know a thing or two about tricks and traps, folks. Take it from me: every sense you have, every nerve ending, has to be on high alert. Or you'll quickly find yourself in a sticky mire that you just can't slog your way out of."
* May 19th, 2017, late-morning *
* 3S *
* Malibu, CA *
Every Moment, A Different Mood
The reception area redefined the term 'nondescript'. White walls, little in the way of foliage or art to add color to the environment and bland, slate-gray carpeting… the serviceable kind, no softer than the floor beneath it. There were a few chairs and tables as well, should the need arise, but the only person in sight was not making use of them or of the dated reading material spread neatly upon the latter pieces. Zoey Madigan-Star, leader of the Boardwalk Angels, one-half of the LAW Tag Team Champions and one of the sweetest people on God’s green earth, paced with an anxious air about her. Not the rapid, near-manic sort of pacing but the slow, stilted steps, halting from moment to moment to look around or at her phone.
For all intents and purposes, the woman simply didn’t look as if she wanted to be here. From time to time she would look at the heavy oak door nearby, bite her lip and then look away, resuming her erratic, circuitous trek about the immediate area. The young magician is dressed fairly conservatively in form-fitting jeans, a buttoned white top that’s open about halfway to reveal a purple cami beneath and black Nikes with a purple swoosh. Her dark hair is woven into braided pigtails which bounce a bit with every motion of her head, too. If she’d been smiling, it would be adorable. Instead she ran a gamut of tricky emotions and feelings, looking vexed one moment and apprehensive the next. When a noise other than her footsteps occurs, in this case her phone ringing, she almost jumps out of her skin.
”Mamma mia!”
Enough of a shock, apparently, that Zoey slipped back into Italian for a moment. Glancing at the screen, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, then opens them. A deep breath is necessary before she can bring herself to answer the call. The moment she puts the phone to her ear, however...
”That arrogant little… little… rompicoglioni! Lei's duro come un muro, I swear!”
...the scene shifts to another, showing a clearly agitated Zoey staring down at her phone, the device clenched too tightly in her shaking hand. Standing in the kitchen of her Malibu home, she lets out a half-shriek, half-growl of frustration before wheeling back as if to hurl the phone against the nearest hard object. Had a hand not reached in to grasp her wrist, she might have done just that… truly testing the protective qualities of the device’s case.
”Bad idea, love. For more reasons than the obvious.”
Tensing further, but relaxing after a moment, the magician loosens her grip and lets Katalina lower her arm slowly, directing her hand to the counter to deposit the phone before it becomes a shattered memory. Arms folded, Katalina looks her wife over with concern, only the faintest hint of amusement in her tone.
”You’ve been on Twitter interacting with Kenzi again. This needs to stop, love, before you drive yourself demented.”
Turning to lean on the counter, palms flat, Zoey merely nods. Expecting a verbal response, Katalina presses on.
”Do I need to personally take steps to see that you don’t do so, love? If I have to…”
”No… no, I’ll be fine.”
The phone beeps again and Katalina is quick to reach for it before Zoey can grab it, though she’s a second too slow. Activating the screen, Zoey scans it for a moment before pocketing the device and turning a weak, though genuine, smile on her wife.
”Got an appointment to tend to, sweetheart. I’ll see you this evening?”
”What time did you get up this morning?”
”Pardon?”
A simple question, yet it catches Zoey off-guard.
”Four. Why?”
”As I recall, you went to bed around midnight. Have you even eaten yet?”
”Um… what time is it now?”
Pointedly gesturing to the clock on the microwave, which reads 2:31pm, Katalina waits for Zoey to sheepishly turn back her way.
”I grabbed an apple and a bottle of water on my way out this morning. Does that count?”
”No.”
”Kata-”
Holding her hand up sharply, Kat demands and acquires her wife’s silence.
”Need I remind you what happened several months ago? And the resultant conversation afterward? And the promise you made in the aftermath?”
From the troubled expression that manifests, it’s clear that Zoey remembers all of the above. But as much as she’s subdued by Kat’s tone and delivery, her hand is shaking again, showing that anger still bubbling beneath the surface.
”I’m fine.”
”You had better be.”
”Are you my mother or my wife?”
”I’m whatever I must be to keep you healthy and safe. And I’m not going to tolerate you snapping back.”
”I’m not snapping.”
”Then I must be hearing things. Yes, I will see you this evening. Try not to drive yourself into another coma, hmm?”
Turning with a snort of pure irritation, Katalina sweeps gracefully and angrily out of the kitchen. Zoey looks after her for a moment, the shake in her hand going up her arm, across her chest and to her face where, for a moment, pure fury reigns. Forcing it down through willpower alone, Zoey grabs her keys and storms out of the house. The door slams shut behind her… and we’re back to the reception area.
”Hi, mama.”
”Hello, sweetheart. I promise not to keep you long. I just wanted to make sure that you got our message the other day.”
Thankfully, the faint bit of exasperation is not audible. As far as Lucinda is concerned, Zoey is Zoey.
”I did. Everything should arrive this Tuesday. That will give us plenty of time to catch up. Is that okay?”
”Of course, piccola rosa. We will see you then. You are sure that everything is okay? You’ve seemed very-”
”I’m just very busy these days, mia madre amorevole. Everything will be just fine. Just take care of papa and Mercedes, okay?”
”Absolutely. See you soon. Tutto il mio amore, Zoey.”
”Tutto il mio amore, mama.”
Hanging up with a sigh of relief, Zoey finds herself falling back against the wall. Only a few inches, really, but enough to cause a soft thump and a bit of a shake to the artwork hanging nearby. Rubbing at her eyes a bit, Zoey mutters to herself softly.
”What am I doing here…”
As it had before, the scene cuts to another flashback of sorts… this time to Zoey sitting at an outdoor cafe, joined by Farrah and Jamilyn Cornett. Farrah’s expression is carefully neutral though the way she stares into her coffee cup something is weighing heavily on the Jersey Hellcat’s mind. Jami, on the other hand, wears her emotion on her sleeve: she’s watching a decidedly-agitated Zoey and wringing her hands a bit. The magician herself has her fingers woven into her unbound hair, looking as though she’s squeezing her own skull. Her head shakes slightly left and right before she mutters the same word under her breath a couple of times:
”Irrelevant… he… irrelevant?!”
Her hands slam down against the table, making Jami jump a bit and the silverware and saucers rattle. Farrah moves her hand just slightly, enough to keep her cup from being upset. Jami looks between the two before sighing and shaking her head.
”Zoey… it was a result of stress, of his concern for the family’s situation. You know he has nothing but respect for you. He didn’t mean-”
”Then why did he say it, Jami?!”
The edge in her voice is jarring even to Zoey herself. She tries to calm herself, but the anger seeps through.
”We busted our humps in and out of the ring for over a year to get to this point, and beat a record-setting team to finally reach the top of the mountain! Now, on top of that… that…”
”Bitch.”
The Magical Maiden seems thankful, at least, that Farrah said it before she did.
”...trying to drag us through the mud, there’s this?! That kind of talk doesn’t wash!”
”Zoey!”
”Zee, she’s right. The stuff that’s going down right now, it’s bad. Everyone’s on edge. James is sharp-tongued at the best of times but regardless of what he said I believe that deep down he was vocalizing his anger. He meant no disrespect.”
”What he meant and what it felt like are two different things! Just because…”
Thinking better of herself, Zoey stops again. She takes a small sip of her tea before going on, forcing her own voice down to a softer level.
”It hurts. That’s all. I know it got to you, too.”
”No, not really. But we see things differently these days, Zee. That much is becoming obvious. That being said...”
Leaving a few bills on the table for her drink, Farrah grabs her bag and gets up. Zoey gets up as well, in a bit of a hurry to the point that she nearly upsets the table. Jami gets up as well, moving quickly between the two as though she expected something to happen… but instead the two Angels just stare at one another before Farrah responds quietly.
”I’ll see you two at the center. Please don’t be late.”
”Mama Red…”
”It’ll be fine, Jami. You know I won’t let it be any other way.”
Turning and walking off down the path, Farrah is soon out of sight. Zoey, as she’d been seen previously, has the shakes again. Jami, knowing of nothing else to do at that moment, embraces her friend and, after a few moments, the gesture is returned.
”Please tell me that there’s nothing between you two? The day that you and Farrah are at odds, Abra, is the day the world’s coming to an end.”
To Jami’s credit, calling Zoey by her Pokémon nickname gets a faint smile out of her. Turning slightly, she properly hugs the smaller Jami in return.
”No… no, we’re fine. Farrah’s issues with Kenzi and how it caused her to react toward the family really got to her and she’s doing a lot of soul-searching. It has her under a lot of stress. But she’ll be all right. She’s one of the strongest people I know.”
”What about you?”
Jami draws back, trying to meet Zoey’s gaze… except Zoey can’t seem to meet Jami’s own stare.
”I’ll find a way to get better.”
”Don’t you let that woman get to you, Zoey. You’re better than that.”
”I wonder sometimes.”
Jami’s about to question that response but she’s stopped by a finger on her lips and a kiss to her forehead before she’s pulled into Zoey’s arms again. Tightly this time.
”It’ll be nice to see Tyler and the little ones again. Farrah, Kate and I will hold to our promise of a big dinner for everyone. I think… I think that will soothe my soul a bit, don’t you?”
”I certainly hope so.”
But neither woman sounds so sure. Cutting back to the reception area, Zoey finally pushes up from the wall, taking a breath and trying to give herself some calm. Turning as she hears someone coming, she almost collides with a fierce-looking, black-haired woman. She has streaks of cerulean and indigo braided into her hair and her icy eyes lock onto the magician in an unnerving way.
”Waiting won’t make this easier. You weren’t called here to pace and over-think matters. If torture is what you’re after, I can easily call upon War to tend to that.”
”That… no… th-that won’t be necessary.”
”Then go. Inside. I do not wish to have to force you, child, but if I must...”
”Why are you doing this anyway? What’s in it for you?”
Taken aback briefly by the question, the woman considers the question in silence before responding.
”To preserve a sister’s happiness. And, perhaps, because I think the world needs people like you in it. Not the person you’re about to become, but the person that you have been up until recently.”
She points sharply at the door, any semblance of gentleness or calm abandoned.
”Go.”
Gulping, Zoey nods and turns to the door. No sooner does she lift her hand to knock than does the door open.
”Come in, Mrs. Madigan-Star. I’ve been expecting you.”
A smoothly-accented male voice speaks from behind the door. Nodding, Zoey steps inside and shuts the door behind her. Fade to black.
"In my mind, there’s no distinction when it comes to family. Stepfathers are fathers, godmothers are mothers, friends can become closer than siblings. When I call someone family or they say the same of me, it is as if it has always been so. People say that opening up one’s heart and soul like that makes a person vulnerable, open to suffering and negative situations more so than is safe. And they’re right.
But I wouldn’t give up my family for anything, blood or extended or otherwise. So when the Cornetts as a whole asked me down to Texas when one of their clan took a downward turn, I booked my flight within the next moment. I had no idea what I was going to do, other than try not to be a burden. Title match looming, legal matters with WSW percolating, contract matters with Jimmy and meetings with contractors for my physical therapy center… it all got pushed to the back burner. Because family. Even in the state I’m in, I still know what’s important."
* May 16th, 2017, early-evening *
* Residence Inn *
* Austin, TX *
A Walking Dichotomy
In the modestly-sized kitchen of the hotel room, Zoey stood at the stove slowly stirring the contents of a large steel pot, one of a couple on the stove. A simple apron is tied tight over her floral dress, roses of crimson and purple against a background of white, her white heels adding a couple inches to her modest height. It sounds as though she is humming but that might be something or someone else in the room. There’s partly-audible conversation going on nearby, though no one is in sight from this vantage point. Placing the glass lid back on the pot, Zoey eyes the other items on the stove before reaching for and retrieving a large knife from the nearby block. Scraping her thumb across the blade, she nods to herself and places it in a nearby cutting board.
Gathering a few things from the fridge, she goes about slicing tomatoes, our view of her still not enough to show her face. It appears, though, that she has a wooden spoon of all things bound into the belt of her apron. It seems extraneous until a hand is seen stealing toward a bowl of gnocchi on the upper counter. Like lightning Zoey snatches the spoon from her belt and raps the counter sharply within a centimeter of the hand, which is draw back swiftly with a squeak of surprise following.
”Hands off until everything is ready!”
”Trying to take a finger off, or just channeling your mother there?!”
Sliding the spoon back into place, Zoey faintly smiles… or it sounds like she is..
”You know the rules.”
”Uh-huh. But I thought Farrah and Kate were supposed to help you with all this. Sort of a group effort.”
”Farrah and James went for a drive to talk. I didn’t ask any further than that considering the mood that he seemed to be in. Kate went off to make a store run for Destiny. Pregnancy cravings. You know how that is. So… it’s just me.”
”So I see…”
Zoey reaches out for a napkin and brings it to her face. Jami watches her curiously for a moment, thinking perhaps the onions that the magician was working on now were having an effect. But from the way Zoey’s shoulders shook and the rest of her followed suit… this was more than a bad dose of syn-propanethial-S-oxide (look it up, kids).
”...Zoey?”
”I’m fine.”
”You’re not fine. You’ve been quiet since we got back from visiting Twain. Even while we were there you didn’t say much to anyone other than him, though I guess I get that much…”
There was more to her thought but Jami didn’t put it into words.
”...so tell me what’s really going on.”
Turning in the redhead’s direction, it looked as if this wasn’t the first wet outburst from the Enchanting One today if the distorted make-up was any indication. She dries the tears as best she can and goes back to slicing.
”The situation made me think of Drake. I don’t think I can bear losing another family member like that, Jami.”
”We haven’t lost anything or anyone yet.”
”Still made me think of him.”
”There isn’t more to this than that?”
Pausing again, Zoey stares straight ahead of her at the blank wall. She blinks several times, drying her eyes again and trying to find a moment of calm in the maelstrom of emotions before she answers.
”...I think I’m losing my mind.”
”As much as it hurts to say, you may be right. I may not be in the middle of everyone’s business like I used to be, but I still pay attention. I still keep tabs on those important to me. And you’re… I don’t have words for it. It’s like you’re hanging on too tight with one hand and scattering pieces of yourself with the other. As quickly as you pull together you’re breaking apart. I mean…”
Jami comes around the counter and sets a hand on Zoey’s shoulder, something which makes Zoey involuntarily flinch.
”Even Death is worried about you. That’s DEFCON 1 as far as I’m concerned.”
”What do I do, then?”
Turning to the stove, Jami pulls the spoon from Zoey’s apron and starts stirring the contents of the large pot again, going for several moments before tapping the utensil against the rim and exhaling a long held breath.
”What she says.”
The two womens’ eyes meet for a moment, a bit of tension passing through before a door opens out of sight and the voices of James and Farrah are heard, quickly followed by DJ and Kate. Jami looks that way first, then meets Zoey’s eyes again.
”I’ll tend to this for a few minutes. You should run along and fix your face. Otherwise people are going to ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
Zoey nods, giving Jami’s hand a squeeze before slipping away… just in time to avoid the incoming crowd. Jami keeps to her attempts to help as the scene fades out.
* May 20th, 2017, late-evening *
* Bergen Performing Arts Center *
* Engelwood, NJ *
Acknowledging the Monster Beneath the Hat
The sight was a familiar one to those who had followed Zoey since her days with VoW, when she still competed under her stage name of Zahara Matisse. The Bergen Performing Arts Center was the place where she’d done her first full magical performance, cementing her love of the art and leading to her current status as a regular in Las Vegas.
The camera is in position to take in the full stage, set back a couple rows from the front and manned by Farrah, as per usual. After a few moments, the curtain is drawn back to reveal a mostly-empty stage. Perhaps, though, it would be more accurate to say that the stage looks empty. The darkness doesn’t allow much sight beyond about a foot back from the edge. One by one, the lights in the theater go down until there’s complete darkness, dispelled within moments by a single spotlight at stage right.
The circular white glow illuminates a poster-sized portrait of James Cornett. From the darkness of the stage, a familiar voice speaks.
”Irrelevant.”
Another light, another portrait. This time it is of Guilty Pleasure. The tag team, not the band. Kenzi Grey and Kate Steele stare out from the still, looking as arrogant as you please.
”Undeserving.”
The next light reveals a picture next to that of James, one of the LAW Tag Team Championships.
”Secondary.”
As the revelations continue, the air in the theater becomes heavier, either due to presence or because of the darkness itself. There is much tension in this place, to the point of it be noticeable visibly.
”Incompetent.”
The fourth exclamation is accompanied by a shot of Katalina Star. The fifth and final image, the most central of the lot and the largest, being near life-size, is of Zoey Madigan-Star herself… not in her wrestling gear, but her magician’s attire.
Such a sight is no less enticing than it was the first time. Zoey in her element, wielding top-notch skills in illusion and escape artistry, can put a smile on anyone’s face. Young or old, boy or girl, the young woman wielded a power to manipulate the senses, to bring escape to any within her sight. But there seems to be a darker side to her right now, if the tone of her voice is any indication. And the picture… the picture seems far too life-like.
”...a monster.”
Eyes do not deceive: the lips of the picture move and Zoey steps from it flawlessly. No doubt it is one of her routines brought to life once again. She steps forward and snaps her gloved fingers, bringing one last spotlight down, this time on herself. Sweeping off her hat, she bows deeply to the camera before rising and placing it back atop her head, tilted just so. Bringing the tip of her wand against the stage with a sharp tap, she stares almost coldly into the camera.
”All these words and more, direct and peripheral, with actions following them more often than not, referring to myself as well as my fellow Angels, have been leveled for the last 80-plus days. For almost three months, I have put up with being denigrated, disrespected, had my name dragged through mud laden with rumors and lies and more. People say that we never earned the opportunity we were given, that favoritism reigns in LAW and we benefited heavily from it. My good nature has exploited and pushed to its limits. Family and friends are dragged into the crossfire as well, because nothing is sacred in wrestling in case you were unaware. This while one member of said family may be experiencing their last days. Judgment comes from all angles, unfiltered, inconsiderate and unwelcome.
I should not be surprised, though, should I? After all, class, taste and respect are certainly lacking… so something must take up the slack, no?”
The smile is feigned, forced at best. Twirling her wand up from the floor, Zoey spins it so that the other end lands in her open left hand. The impact is audible and her grip upon the implement is tight.
”Are you tired of hearing about it yet? Because I’m certainly tired of talking about it. Farrah and I held no illusions when we won those championships…”
She points sharply at the picture of the golden belts before bringing the wand back to its former position.
”We knew it would take everything we had and more to match the accomplishments of those who came before us, much less surpass them. And we were prepared for that. For weeks upon end of not being able to live our daily lives without pain, of the demands of special events and promotion for upcoming shows as company champions, for all the requisite pressures that come from being at the top of your game. Even nineteen months ago when I first entered this business I knew it would come to that when I won my first championship. I did not enter into this game blindly… though now it seems my eyes weren’t open widely enough after all.”
Zoey lowers her head slightly, her hand releasing the wand before rising to tip her hat forward as her head lowers a bit. She shakes it side to side, a wan smile just visible beneath the shadows and the long strands of unbound dark hair.
”I know the truth now, though.”
Her head lifts a little, only one eye peering out from beneath the silken brim of the top hat.
”I brought this on myself. In doing so, I brought it upon my fellow Angels as well.”
Turning, she faces the portrait of James, hand lowered along with the wand held in the other. She stares at it silently for a few moments before making her thoughts known.
”In my disillusioned state, I took his words out of context. The pain this man is going through right now, emotionally and mentally, would break a lesser person. To him, anything that is not family is irrelevant. In my disillusioned state, I forgot for a moment that I AM part of that family.”
With a wave of her hand, a black cloth comes down and covers the portrait. One snap of her fingers later, the spotlight over it is snuffed out. She moves slowly to the portrait of Katalina Star, her wife. A gloved hand reaches out, stroking the art with a small smile.
”Sharp of tongue but warm of heart and soul. I do not often understand her means or methods, but I believe in her feelings for me and mine for her. Her anger at me was not born out of spite, but concern. It took time for that to dawn on me, but I see it now. And I owe her an apology.”
Pressing a kiss to the picture, Zoey steps back and similarly covers and darkens the image. Coming forward, standing before the frame from which she made her entrance, she holds her wand up high. Lights erupt in the background, each shining down over more images. They encompass friends, family, opponents, enemies… the whole gamut. Courtney and Crystal. Sarah Lacklan and Jessika Hyde. Lucas Dupree and Megan Helms-King. Jimmy and Jessamine… and many more.
”In all of them there is a reason. In each there is something to be seen and heard, to be taken only for what it is, not what our minds twist it into becoming. They have all played their part in bringing me to this point, but it is my interpretation that has led to their moment. I have taken what they have given… and this is the end result.”
Striking the tip of her wand against the stage, all of the pictures are thrust back into darkness. All… except for those of the championships… and of Guilty Pleasure.
”The Demon in the Hat.”
She takes another bow before rising again.
”The worst part is that I let Kenzi do this to me. I gave her the power to hurt me and she took it and ran. I gave her the power to turn me into a monster and she made the most of it. For someone who’s so out of her own mind that she doesn’t possess the cognition to think before she speaks or acts, she is capable of some tremendous things. Now…”
Holding up a hand as she stands now as she started, wand to the floor, hat tipped forward, Zoey faintly smiles again.
”...don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back, Kenzi. Recall my words: I ‘let’ you do this. I ‘gave’ you the power. None of this happened because you meant for it to from the beginning. Only when the opportunity was presented were you able to make something of it. And you did. But here’s the major question: was it worth it? Was turning me into what you see standing before you worth the risk? You don’t know the answer to that question. You won’t know until Validation. You say that this is the show that made you a star last year and perhaps you are right. But what have you done with that stardom? Where are your championships, Kenzi? Where is the respect that you should have earned by this point? Your partnership with Steele is crumbling, your band recently lost a member and in one fell swoop the Boardwalk Angels shut down nearly two months of your constant berating and insults by beating your team clean at LAW #62.
Not even you can spin yourself out of the fact that when it finally came time for you to prove yourself right as far as being better than us, you fell on your face. The so-called handout girls put Guilty Pleasure on their backs. That epithet still makes me angry to hear it, though now it brings a chuckle along with it. Riddle me this, Kenzi: if we’re so low on the wrestling totem pole that we had to have assistance from on high to get a title shot, how would we ever have become champions? I certainly don’t recall Helms-King or Dupree coming down to the ring to help us beat the Naughty Girls. I DO remember having to fight through not only them, but Chastity, Candi AND you in order to take the gold, though. And if you’re as skilled and dangerous as you claim to be, why would it be necessary to risk your job and end our first match in desperation, drawing a no-contest, against a team like us? Do you see it yet, Kenzi? Farrah told you a while back that you’d lost the game. Now we see that declaration put in the light for everyone to see. We made you look foolish in front of the world and your lover in New Orleans. It’s a performance we mean to repeat at Validation.”
Steadily growing more intense as she goes, Zoey taps the wand firmly against the stage again, demanding her opponent's attention.
”There’s no need to go on and on about the obvious anymore. Anyone who was watching LAW #62 knows the truth now. You’re exposed, Kenzi. Exposed as a liar, a rumormonger and a bit of an attention whore… though I’m fairly sure most people recognized one or more of those already. You take any jab that you can, inserting yourself into conversations and situations that have nothing to do with you, all to get a rise out of us. And too often? We take that bait. At this point, I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t tried bringing up my brother.”
The magician laughs faintly, but with a dark tinge. That moment of mirth is a warning against taking it to that level with her, plain and clear.
”But all that is done now. This isn’t your game anymore. It’s ours. We have the gold and we make the rules. We are the undisputed, undefeated LAW Tag Team Champions, and you’re the first in a long time of challengers who are going to learn first-hand just what we’re made of. Can you feel it yet? The desperation setting in? Get used to it. It’s only going to get worse until you arrive for Validation. And then we give that name new meaning by retaining our championships in front of the world. How, you may ask? By doing what we do best: fighting and winning.”
Slowly, the smile is becoming more prominent, but for now it is quite subtle. Zoey lifts one leg, folding it before her, then lifts the other. It looks for all the world as though she is sitting in midair. Knowing she’s a magician, we have to assume that there’s a trick to this… but it looks so natural.
”I’m not going to say that this fight won’t be a challenge, though. We know how tough you and Kate can be, even if Mrs. Steele has a bit of a glass jaw. I didn’t think that Courtney and I hit her that hard but… she’s been so quiet lately that maybe my fellow Angel and I went a bit overboard...”
She tips her hat a bit.
”...but if it turns out that she can’t step up and say her piece, I’m certain her husband would be happy to step in for her. Yes, I went there. Again. Are you tired yet of hearing attention brought to this point, Kate? Then do something about it. Instead of moping or putting more time into your band than your wrestling, Steele, you should step up and try to prove us wrong in our perceptions the same way we’ve been proving you and Kenzi wrong in the ring.”
Bouncing the wand off the floor, Zoey snatches it out of the air deftly and points it at the portrait of Guilty Pleasure. All at once, the smile vanishes again.
”What grates my nerves and gets under my skin the most, though, is the way all your attempts to demean and lessen not only ourselves and our accomplishments but those of our friends and contemporaries over the past few months… have succeeded, at least in part. Minimizing and outright ignoring the successes of those not under your umbrella of influence… tell me, ladies: is that supposed to make you shine brighter in comparison? Is it supposed to make you stand above the rest in any terms? Because I see no titles on your shoulders and your names are spoken with acidic malice, not glowing reverence.
Whether that’s the reason why or not, your efforts end at Validation. That name has never sounded more appropriate to me. By defeating Guilty Pleasure again at the pay-per-view, the Boardwalk Angels not only validate our existence in LAW and our championship reign, but we invalidate your sordid group. It WILL happen, Grey. We WILL send you running back into the arms of your pink princess, Sarah Lacklan. Maybe you can find purpose as one of her faceless supplicants. Steele, you WILL crawl through the wreckage of your team and your band, crawling on the shards of your harsh words and broken dreams back to Teddy, praying that he can somehow restore your relevance.”
She takes off her top hat, tossing it upward… from whence it does not return. Spinning the wand once, she flicks her wrist in the direction of the portrait, causing it to be set ablaze.
”I ‘let’ you make me into this monster, Grey. But much like Doctor Frankenstein himself, you can’t control what you’ve created. What’s even scarier about the whole situation, though, is that I can’t control myself, either. I’ve become this agitated, stressed, anger-filled beast. I find myself snapping at those close to me, I’m sleeping even less than usual and my every action is pushing me closer to a point which once put me in the hospital and out of the ring for several weeks.
Steps are being taken, though, thanks in no small part to an unexpected benefactor. I am seeking help for what I have become. But deep down I know that the only way to free myself of my own darkness, or at least to start down that path, is through defeating you at Validation. What I ‘gave’ you must be taken back. What you were ‘allowed’ to wield must be wrested from your hands. It isn’t as if I needed more motivation than I already had, but… there it is. Full circle.”
Unfolding her legs, Zoey stands upon the floor once again. She slashes at the air with her wand and the flames subside, leaving nothing but a pile of dust where the picture once stood. Over to the portrait of the championships she goes and, perhaps not so surprisingly, she takes them from the ‘canvas’. Walking in from the shadows is Farrah, dressed in crimson as contrast to Zoey’s purple. Handed her championship, she places it over her own shoulder as both women stare into the camera, gold in place.
”The saddest part for you two is that once this battle between our sides ends at Validation? Once we’ve retained our gold and set ourselves on the path to our next challenge? You will have nothing left. Let’s be real, ladies: every shred of the importance that you’re clinging to, the notoriety and the retweets and the Facebook shares… is owed to us. That’s what has to get in your gut and burn the most, Kenzi. You’re only important and talked about because you’re going up against us, because we’re the champions and the hottest team in LAW right now. Am I arrogant for saying that? Only to you. We have the statistics to back it up and the gold to galvanize the point.
Guilty Pleasure is nothing without the Boardwalk Angels. You were nothing before us. You will be nothing after us. I’ve said before that I do not compromise the truth for anyone or anything. Call me every name in the book, say that I’m mean, evil or worse. But what you cannot call me with any thrust or veracity is a liar. So know that I mean this, too, with every fiber of my being:”
She leans in just enough to emphasize the force of her words.
”I want you to suffer for what you’ve done. For all the pain and the deceit, the tears you’ve caused and the hatred you’ve sown. For everything that you have inflicted on those who you chose to target. And at Validation, we are going to make that happen. It will be the show of a lifetime for everyone you’ve hurt.”
”You two brought this on yourselves. Did I or did I not warn you multiple times that you were going to push too far? That the sweetest of souls has the darkest rage? It’s simple logic, all things being equal. Before, I would have tried to rein Zoey in a little and try to calm her down but… not anymore. Not until we do to you what you’ve been asking for since the ink dried on the contract for our first match. We started this war and at Validation, we finish it.”
”You’re going to learn how it feels when you push a good person too far. If you’re lucky, you’ll leave the ring with some residual relevance: being an example that you don’t cross the Boardwalk Angels.”
”Angels always rise.”
”So get ready to fly.”
Reaching upward into the shadows, Zoey takes down her hat and puts it back on. A burst of smoke emits from her wand and engulfs both herself and Farrah. The women are gone when a gust of air blows the smoke away.
Fade to black.
* May 19th, 2017, late-morning *
* 3S *
* Malibu, CA *
Every Moment, A Different Mood
The reception area redefined the term 'nondescript'. White walls, little in the way of foliage or art to add color to the environment and bland, slate-gray carpeting… the serviceable kind, no softer than the floor beneath it. There were a few chairs and tables as well, should the need arise, but the only person in sight was not making use of them or of the dated reading material spread neatly upon the latter pieces. Zoey Madigan-Star, leader of the Boardwalk Angels, one-half of the LAW Tag Team Champions and one of the sweetest people on God’s green earth, paced with an anxious air about her. Not the rapid, near-manic sort of pacing but the slow, stilted steps, halting from moment to moment to look around or at her phone.
For all intents and purposes, the woman simply didn’t look as if she wanted to be here. From time to time she would look at the heavy oak door nearby, bite her lip and then look away, resuming her erratic, circuitous trek about the immediate area. The young magician is dressed fairly conservatively in form-fitting jeans, a buttoned white top that’s open about halfway to reveal a purple cami beneath and black Nikes with a purple swoosh. Her dark hair is woven into braided pigtails which bounce a bit with every motion of her head, too. If she’d been smiling, it would be adorable. Instead she ran a gamut of tricky emotions and feelings, looking vexed one moment and apprehensive the next. When a noise other than her footsteps occurs, in this case her phone ringing, she almost jumps out of her skin.
”Mamma mia!”
Enough of a shock, apparently, that Zoey slipped back into Italian for a moment. Glancing at the screen, she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, then opens them. A deep breath is necessary before she can bring herself to answer the call. The moment she puts the phone to her ear, however...
”That arrogant little… little… rompicoglioni! Lei's duro come un muro, I swear!”
...the scene shifts to another, showing a clearly agitated Zoey staring down at her phone, the device clenched too tightly in her shaking hand. Standing in the kitchen of her Malibu home, she lets out a half-shriek, half-growl of frustration before wheeling back as if to hurl the phone against the nearest hard object. Had a hand not reached in to grasp her wrist, she might have done just that… truly testing the protective qualities of the device’s case.
”Bad idea, love. For more reasons than the obvious.”
Tensing further, but relaxing after a moment, the magician loosens her grip and lets Katalina lower her arm slowly, directing her hand to the counter to deposit the phone before it becomes a shattered memory. Arms folded, Katalina looks her wife over with concern, only the faintest hint of amusement in her tone.
”You’ve been on Twitter interacting with Kenzi again. This needs to stop, love, before you drive yourself demented.”
Turning to lean on the counter, palms flat, Zoey merely nods. Expecting a verbal response, Katalina presses on.
”Do I need to personally take steps to see that you don’t do so, love? If I have to…”
”No… no, I’ll be fine.”
The phone beeps again and Katalina is quick to reach for it before Zoey can grab it, though she’s a second too slow. Activating the screen, Zoey scans it for a moment before pocketing the device and turning a weak, though genuine, smile on her wife.
”Got an appointment to tend to, sweetheart. I’ll see you this evening?”
”What time did you get up this morning?”
”Pardon?”
A simple question, yet it catches Zoey off-guard.
”Four. Why?”
”As I recall, you went to bed around midnight. Have you even eaten yet?”
”Um… what time is it now?”
Pointedly gesturing to the clock on the microwave, which reads 2:31pm, Katalina waits for Zoey to sheepishly turn back her way.
”I grabbed an apple and a bottle of water on my way out this morning. Does that count?”
”No.”
”Kata-”
Holding her hand up sharply, Kat demands and acquires her wife’s silence.
”Need I remind you what happened several months ago? And the resultant conversation afterward? And the promise you made in the aftermath?”
From the troubled expression that manifests, it’s clear that Zoey remembers all of the above. But as much as she’s subdued by Kat’s tone and delivery, her hand is shaking again, showing that anger still bubbling beneath the surface.
”I’m fine.”
”You had better be.”
”Are you my mother or my wife?”
”I’m whatever I must be to keep you healthy and safe. And I’m not going to tolerate you snapping back.”
”I’m not snapping.”
”Then I must be hearing things. Yes, I will see you this evening. Try not to drive yourself into another coma, hmm?”
Turning with a snort of pure irritation, Katalina sweeps gracefully and angrily out of the kitchen. Zoey looks after her for a moment, the shake in her hand going up her arm, across her chest and to her face where, for a moment, pure fury reigns. Forcing it down through willpower alone, Zoey grabs her keys and storms out of the house. The door slams shut behind her… and we’re back to the reception area.
”Hi, mama.”
”Hello, sweetheart. I promise not to keep you long. I just wanted to make sure that you got our message the other day.”
Thankfully, the faint bit of exasperation is not audible. As far as Lucinda is concerned, Zoey is Zoey.
”I did. Everything should arrive this Tuesday. That will give us plenty of time to catch up. Is that okay?”
”Of course, piccola rosa. We will see you then. You are sure that everything is okay? You’ve seemed very-”
”I’m just very busy these days, mia madre amorevole. Everything will be just fine. Just take care of papa and Mercedes, okay?”
”Absolutely. See you soon. Tutto il mio amore, Zoey.”
”Tutto il mio amore, mama.”
Hanging up with a sigh of relief, Zoey finds herself falling back against the wall. Only a few inches, really, but enough to cause a soft thump and a bit of a shake to the artwork hanging nearby. Rubbing at her eyes a bit, Zoey mutters to herself softly.
”What am I doing here…”
As it had before, the scene cuts to another flashback of sorts… this time to Zoey sitting at an outdoor cafe, joined by Farrah and Jamilyn Cornett. Farrah’s expression is carefully neutral though the way she stares into her coffee cup something is weighing heavily on the Jersey Hellcat’s mind. Jami, on the other hand, wears her emotion on her sleeve: she’s watching a decidedly-agitated Zoey and wringing her hands a bit. The magician herself has her fingers woven into her unbound hair, looking as though she’s squeezing her own skull. Her head shakes slightly left and right before she mutters the same word under her breath a couple of times:
”Irrelevant… he… irrelevant?!”
Her hands slam down against the table, making Jami jump a bit and the silverware and saucers rattle. Farrah moves her hand just slightly, enough to keep her cup from being upset. Jami looks between the two before sighing and shaking her head.
”Zoey… it was a result of stress, of his concern for the family’s situation. You know he has nothing but respect for you. He didn’t mean-”
”Then why did he say it, Jami?!”
The edge in her voice is jarring even to Zoey herself. She tries to calm herself, but the anger seeps through.
”We busted our humps in and out of the ring for over a year to get to this point, and beat a record-setting team to finally reach the top of the mountain! Now, on top of that… that…”
”Bitch.”
The Magical Maiden seems thankful, at least, that Farrah said it before she did.
”...trying to drag us through the mud, there’s this?! That kind of talk doesn’t wash!”
”Zoey!”
”Zee, she’s right. The stuff that’s going down right now, it’s bad. Everyone’s on edge. James is sharp-tongued at the best of times but regardless of what he said I believe that deep down he was vocalizing his anger. He meant no disrespect.”
”What he meant and what it felt like are two different things! Just because…”
Thinking better of herself, Zoey stops again. She takes a small sip of her tea before going on, forcing her own voice down to a softer level.
”It hurts. That’s all. I know it got to you, too.”
”No, not really. But we see things differently these days, Zee. That much is becoming obvious. That being said...”
Leaving a few bills on the table for her drink, Farrah grabs her bag and gets up. Zoey gets up as well, in a bit of a hurry to the point that she nearly upsets the table. Jami gets up as well, moving quickly between the two as though she expected something to happen… but instead the two Angels just stare at one another before Farrah responds quietly.
”I’ll see you two at the center. Please don’t be late.”
”Mama Red…”
”It’ll be fine, Jami. You know I won’t let it be any other way.”
Turning and walking off down the path, Farrah is soon out of sight. Zoey, as she’d been seen previously, has the shakes again. Jami, knowing of nothing else to do at that moment, embraces her friend and, after a few moments, the gesture is returned.
”Please tell me that there’s nothing between you two? The day that you and Farrah are at odds, Abra, is the day the world’s coming to an end.”
To Jami’s credit, calling Zoey by her Pokémon nickname gets a faint smile out of her. Turning slightly, she properly hugs the smaller Jami in return.
”No… no, we’re fine. Farrah’s issues with Kenzi and how it caused her to react toward the family really got to her and she’s doing a lot of soul-searching. It has her under a lot of stress. But she’ll be all right. She’s one of the strongest people I know.”
”What about you?”
Jami draws back, trying to meet Zoey’s gaze… except Zoey can’t seem to meet Jami’s own stare.
”I’ll find a way to get better.”
”Don’t you let that woman get to you, Zoey. You’re better than that.”
”I wonder sometimes.”
Jami’s about to question that response but she’s stopped by a finger on her lips and a kiss to her forehead before she’s pulled into Zoey’s arms again. Tightly this time.
”It’ll be nice to see Tyler and the little ones again. Farrah, Kate and I will hold to our promise of a big dinner for everyone. I think… I think that will soothe my soul a bit, don’t you?”
”I certainly hope so.”
But neither woman sounds so sure. Cutting back to the reception area, Zoey finally pushes up from the wall, taking a breath and trying to give herself some calm. Turning as she hears someone coming, she almost collides with a fierce-looking, black-haired woman. She has streaks of cerulean and indigo braided into her hair and her icy eyes lock onto the magician in an unnerving way.
”Waiting won’t make this easier. You weren’t called here to pace and over-think matters. If torture is what you’re after, I can easily call upon War to tend to that.”
”That… no… th-that won’t be necessary.”
”Then go. Inside. I do not wish to have to force you, child, but if I must...”
”Why are you doing this anyway? What’s in it for you?”
Taken aback briefly by the question, the woman considers the question in silence before responding.
”To preserve a sister’s happiness. And, perhaps, because I think the world needs people like you in it. Not the person you’re about to become, but the person that you have been up until recently.”
She points sharply at the door, any semblance of gentleness or calm abandoned.
”Go.”
Gulping, Zoey nods and turns to the door. No sooner does she lift her hand to knock than does the door open.
”Come in, Mrs. Madigan-Star. I’ve been expecting you.”
A smoothly-accented male voice speaks from behind the door. Nodding, Zoey steps inside and shuts the door behind her. Fade to black.
"In my mind, there’s no distinction when it comes to family. Stepfathers are fathers, godmothers are mothers, friends can become closer than siblings. When I call someone family or they say the same of me, it is as if it has always been so. People say that opening up one’s heart and soul like that makes a person vulnerable, open to suffering and negative situations more so than is safe. And they’re right.
But I wouldn’t give up my family for anything, blood or extended or otherwise. So when the Cornetts as a whole asked me down to Texas when one of their clan took a downward turn, I booked my flight within the next moment. I had no idea what I was going to do, other than try not to be a burden. Title match looming, legal matters with WSW percolating, contract matters with Jimmy and meetings with contractors for my physical therapy center… it all got pushed to the back burner. Because family. Even in the state I’m in, I still know what’s important."
* May 16th, 2017, early-evening *
* Residence Inn *
* Austin, TX *
A Walking Dichotomy
In the modestly-sized kitchen of the hotel room, Zoey stood at the stove slowly stirring the contents of a large steel pot, one of a couple on the stove. A simple apron is tied tight over her floral dress, roses of crimson and purple against a background of white, her white heels adding a couple inches to her modest height. It sounds as though she is humming but that might be something or someone else in the room. There’s partly-audible conversation going on nearby, though no one is in sight from this vantage point. Placing the glass lid back on the pot, Zoey eyes the other items on the stove before reaching for and retrieving a large knife from the nearby block. Scraping her thumb across the blade, she nods to herself and places it in a nearby cutting board.
Gathering a few things from the fridge, she goes about slicing tomatoes, our view of her still not enough to show her face. It appears, though, that she has a wooden spoon of all things bound into the belt of her apron. It seems extraneous until a hand is seen stealing toward a bowl of gnocchi on the upper counter. Like lightning Zoey snatches the spoon from her belt and raps the counter sharply within a centimeter of the hand, which is draw back swiftly with a squeak of surprise following.
”Hands off until everything is ready!”
”Trying to take a finger off, or just channeling your mother there?!”
Sliding the spoon back into place, Zoey faintly smiles… or it sounds like she is..
”You know the rules.”
”Uh-huh. But I thought Farrah and Kate were supposed to help you with all this. Sort of a group effort.”
”Farrah and James went for a drive to talk. I didn’t ask any further than that considering the mood that he seemed to be in. Kate went off to make a store run for Destiny. Pregnancy cravings. You know how that is. So… it’s just me.”
”So I see…”
Zoey reaches out for a napkin and brings it to her face. Jami watches her curiously for a moment, thinking perhaps the onions that the magician was working on now were having an effect. But from the way Zoey’s shoulders shook and the rest of her followed suit… this was more than a bad dose of syn-propanethial-S-oxide (look it up, kids).
”...Zoey?”
”I’m fine.”
”You’re not fine. You’ve been quiet since we got back from visiting Twain. Even while we were there you didn’t say much to anyone other than him, though I guess I get that much…”
There was more to her thought but Jami didn’t put it into words.
”...so tell me what’s really going on.”
Turning in the redhead’s direction, it looked as if this wasn’t the first wet outburst from the Enchanting One today if the distorted make-up was any indication. She dries the tears as best she can and goes back to slicing.
”The situation made me think of Drake. I don’t think I can bear losing another family member like that, Jami.”
”We haven’t lost anything or anyone yet.”
”Still made me think of him.”
”There isn’t more to this than that?”
Pausing again, Zoey stares straight ahead of her at the blank wall. She blinks several times, drying her eyes again and trying to find a moment of calm in the maelstrom of emotions before she answers.
”...I think I’m losing my mind.”
”As much as it hurts to say, you may be right. I may not be in the middle of everyone’s business like I used to be, but I still pay attention. I still keep tabs on those important to me. And you’re… I don’t have words for it. It’s like you’re hanging on too tight with one hand and scattering pieces of yourself with the other. As quickly as you pull together you’re breaking apart. I mean…”
Jami comes around the counter and sets a hand on Zoey’s shoulder, something which makes Zoey involuntarily flinch.
”Even Death is worried about you. That’s DEFCON 1 as far as I’m concerned.”
”What do I do, then?”
Turning to the stove, Jami pulls the spoon from Zoey’s apron and starts stirring the contents of the large pot again, going for several moments before tapping the utensil against the rim and exhaling a long held breath.
”What she says.”
The two womens’ eyes meet for a moment, a bit of tension passing through before a door opens out of sight and the voices of James and Farrah are heard, quickly followed by DJ and Kate. Jami looks that way first, then meets Zoey’s eyes again.
”I’ll tend to this for a few minutes. You should run along and fix your face. Otherwise people are going to ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
Zoey nods, giving Jami’s hand a squeeze before slipping away… just in time to avoid the incoming crowd. Jami keeps to her attempts to help as the scene fades out.
* May 20th, 2017, late-evening *
* Bergen Performing Arts Center *
* Engelwood, NJ *
Acknowledging the Monster Beneath the Hat
The sight was a familiar one to those who had followed Zoey since her days with VoW, when she still competed under her stage name of Zahara Matisse. The Bergen Performing Arts Center was the place where she’d done her first full magical performance, cementing her love of the art and leading to her current status as a regular in Las Vegas.
The camera is in position to take in the full stage, set back a couple rows from the front and manned by Farrah, as per usual. After a few moments, the curtain is drawn back to reveal a mostly-empty stage. Perhaps, though, it would be more accurate to say that the stage looks empty. The darkness doesn’t allow much sight beyond about a foot back from the edge. One by one, the lights in the theater go down until there’s complete darkness, dispelled within moments by a single spotlight at stage right.
The circular white glow illuminates a poster-sized portrait of James Cornett. From the darkness of the stage, a familiar voice speaks.
”Irrelevant.”
Another light, another portrait. This time it is of Guilty Pleasure. The tag team, not the band. Kenzi Grey and Kate Steele stare out from the still, looking as arrogant as you please.
”Undeserving.”
The next light reveals a picture next to that of James, one of the LAW Tag Team Championships.
”Secondary.”
As the revelations continue, the air in the theater becomes heavier, either due to presence or because of the darkness itself. There is much tension in this place, to the point of it be noticeable visibly.
”Incompetent.”
The fourth exclamation is accompanied by a shot of Katalina Star. The fifth and final image, the most central of the lot and the largest, being near life-size, is of Zoey Madigan-Star herself… not in her wrestling gear, but her magician’s attire.
Such a sight is no less enticing than it was the first time. Zoey in her element, wielding top-notch skills in illusion and escape artistry, can put a smile on anyone’s face. Young or old, boy or girl, the young woman wielded a power to manipulate the senses, to bring escape to any within her sight. But there seems to be a darker side to her right now, if the tone of her voice is any indication. And the picture… the picture seems far too life-like.
”...a monster.”
Eyes do not deceive: the lips of the picture move and Zoey steps from it flawlessly. No doubt it is one of her routines brought to life once again. She steps forward and snaps her gloved fingers, bringing one last spotlight down, this time on herself. Sweeping off her hat, she bows deeply to the camera before rising and placing it back atop her head, tilted just so. Bringing the tip of her wand against the stage with a sharp tap, she stares almost coldly into the camera.
”All these words and more, direct and peripheral, with actions following them more often than not, referring to myself as well as my fellow Angels, have been leveled for the last 80-plus days. For almost three months, I have put up with being denigrated, disrespected, had my name dragged through mud laden with rumors and lies and more. People say that we never earned the opportunity we were given, that favoritism reigns in LAW and we benefited heavily from it. My good nature has exploited and pushed to its limits. Family and friends are dragged into the crossfire as well, because nothing is sacred in wrestling in case you were unaware. This while one member of said family may be experiencing their last days. Judgment comes from all angles, unfiltered, inconsiderate and unwelcome.
I should not be surprised, though, should I? After all, class, taste and respect are certainly lacking… so something must take up the slack, no?”
The smile is feigned, forced at best. Twirling her wand up from the floor, Zoey spins it so that the other end lands in her open left hand. The impact is audible and her grip upon the implement is tight.
”Are you tired of hearing about it yet? Because I’m certainly tired of talking about it. Farrah and I held no illusions when we won those championships…”
She points sharply at the picture of the golden belts before bringing the wand back to its former position.
”We knew it would take everything we had and more to match the accomplishments of those who came before us, much less surpass them. And we were prepared for that. For weeks upon end of not being able to live our daily lives without pain, of the demands of special events and promotion for upcoming shows as company champions, for all the requisite pressures that come from being at the top of your game. Even nineteen months ago when I first entered this business I knew it would come to that when I won my first championship. I did not enter into this game blindly… though now it seems my eyes weren’t open widely enough after all.”
Zoey lowers her head slightly, her hand releasing the wand before rising to tip her hat forward as her head lowers a bit. She shakes it side to side, a wan smile just visible beneath the shadows and the long strands of unbound dark hair.
”I know the truth now, though.”
Her head lifts a little, only one eye peering out from beneath the silken brim of the top hat.
”I brought this on myself. In doing so, I brought it upon my fellow Angels as well.”
Turning, she faces the portrait of James, hand lowered along with the wand held in the other. She stares at it silently for a few moments before making her thoughts known.
”In my disillusioned state, I took his words out of context. The pain this man is going through right now, emotionally and mentally, would break a lesser person. To him, anything that is not family is irrelevant. In my disillusioned state, I forgot for a moment that I AM part of that family.”
With a wave of her hand, a black cloth comes down and covers the portrait. One snap of her fingers later, the spotlight over it is snuffed out. She moves slowly to the portrait of Katalina Star, her wife. A gloved hand reaches out, stroking the art with a small smile.
”Sharp of tongue but warm of heart and soul. I do not often understand her means or methods, but I believe in her feelings for me and mine for her. Her anger at me was not born out of spite, but concern. It took time for that to dawn on me, but I see it now. And I owe her an apology.”
Pressing a kiss to the picture, Zoey steps back and similarly covers and darkens the image. Coming forward, standing before the frame from which she made her entrance, she holds her wand up high. Lights erupt in the background, each shining down over more images. They encompass friends, family, opponents, enemies… the whole gamut. Courtney and Crystal. Sarah Lacklan and Jessika Hyde. Lucas Dupree and Megan Helms-King. Jimmy and Jessamine… and many more.
”In all of them there is a reason. In each there is something to be seen and heard, to be taken only for what it is, not what our minds twist it into becoming. They have all played their part in bringing me to this point, but it is my interpretation that has led to their moment. I have taken what they have given… and this is the end result.”
Striking the tip of her wand against the stage, all of the pictures are thrust back into darkness. All… except for those of the championships… and of Guilty Pleasure.
”The Demon in the Hat.”
She takes another bow before rising again.
”The worst part is that I let Kenzi do this to me. I gave her the power to hurt me and she took it and ran. I gave her the power to turn me into a monster and she made the most of it. For someone who’s so out of her own mind that she doesn’t possess the cognition to think before she speaks or acts, she is capable of some tremendous things. Now…”
Holding up a hand as she stands now as she started, wand to the floor, hat tipped forward, Zoey faintly smiles again.
”...don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back, Kenzi. Recall my words: I ‘let’ you do this. I ‘gave’ you the power. None of this happened because you meant for it to from the beginning. Only when the opportunity was presented were you able to make something of it. And you did. But here’s the major question: was it worth it? Was turning me into what you see standing before you worth the risk? You don’t know the answer to that question. You won’t know until Validation. You say that this is the show that made you a star last year and perhaps you are right. But what have you done with that stardom? Where are your championships, Kenzi? Where is the respect that you should have earned by this point? Your partnership with Steele is crumbling, your band recently lost a member and in one fell swoop the Boardwalk Angels shut down nearly two months of your constant berating and insults by beating your team clean at LAW #62.
Not even you can spin yourself out of the fact that when it finally came time for you to prove yourself right as far as being better than us, you fell on your face. The so-called handout girls put Guilty Pleasure on their backs. That epithet still makes me angry to hear it, though now it brings a chuckle along with it. Riddle me this, Kenzi: if we’re so low on the wrestling totem pole that we had to have assistance from on high to get a title shot, how would we ever have become champions? I certainly don’t recall Helms-King or Dupree coming down to the ring to help us beat the Naughty Girls. I DO remember having to fight through not only them, but Chastity, Candi AND you in order to take the gold, though. And if you’re as skilled and dangerous as you claim to be, why would it be necessary to risk your job and end our first match in desperation, drawing a no-contest, against a team like us? Do you see it yet, Kenzi? Farrah told you a while back that you’d lost the game. Now we see that declaration put in the light for everyone to see. We made you look foolish in front of the world and your lover in New Orleans. It’s a performance we mean to repeat at Validation.”
Steadily growing more intense as she goes, Zoey taps the wand firmly against the stage again, demanding her opponent's attention.
”There’s no need to go on and on about the obvious anymore. Anyone who was watching LAW #62 knows the truth now. You’re exposed, Kenzi. Exposed as a liar, a rumormonger and a bit of an attention whore… though I’m fairly sure most people recognized one or more of those already. You take any jab that you can, inserting yourself into conversations and situations that have nothing to do with you, all to get a rise out of us. And too often? We take that bait. At this point, I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t tried bringing up my brother.”
The magician laughs faintly, but with a dark tinge. That moment of mirth is a warning against taking it to that level with her, plain and clear.
”But all that is done now. This isn’t your game anymore. It’s ours. We have the gold and we make the rules. We are the undisputed, undefeated LAW Tag Team Champions, and you’re the first in a long time of challengers who are going to learn first-hand just what we’re made of. Can you feel it yet? The desperation setting in? Get used to it. It’s only going to get worse until you arrive for Validation. And then we give that name new meaning by retaining our championships in front of the world. How, you may ask? By doing what we do best: fighting and winning.”
Slowly, the smile is becoming more prominent, but for now it is quite subtle. Zoey lifts one leg, folding it before her, then lifts the other. It looks for all the world as though she is sitting in midair. Knowing she’s a magician, we have to assume that there’s a trick to this… but it looks so natural.
”I’m not going to say that this fight won’t be a challenge, though. We know how tough you and Kate can be, even if Mrs. Steele has a bit of a glass jaw. I didn’t think that Courtney and I hit her that hard but… she’s been so quiet lately that maybe my fellow Angel and I went a bit overboard...”
She tips her hat a bit.
”...but if it turns out that she can’t step up and say her piece, I’m certain her husband would be happy to step in for her. Yes, I went there. Again. Are you tired yet of hearing attention brought to this point, Kate? Then do something about it. Instead of moping or putting more time into your band than your wrestling, Steele, you should step up and try to prove us wrong in our perceptions the same way we’ve been proving you and Kenzi wrong in the ring.”
Bouncing the wand off the floor, Zoey snatches it out of the air deftly and points it at the portrait of Guilty Pleasure. All at once, the smile vanishes again.
”What grates my nerves and gets under my skin the most, though, is the way all your attempts to demean and lessen not only ourselves and our accomplishments but those of our friends and contemporaries over the past few months… have succeeded, at least in part. Minimizing and outright ignoring the successes of those not under your umbrella of influence… tell me, ladies: is that supposed to make you shine brighter in comparison? Is it supposed to make you stand above the rest in any terms? Because I see no titles on your shoulders and your names are spoken with acidic malice, not glowing reverence.
Whether that’s the reason why or not, your efforts end at Validation. That name has never sounded more appropriate to me. By defeating Guilty Pleasure again at the pay-per-view, the Boardwalk Angels not only validate our existence in LAW and our championship reign, but we invalidate your sordid group. It WILL happen, Grey. We WILL send you running back into the arms of your pink princess, Sarah Lacklan. Maybe you can find purpose as one of her faceless supplicants. Steele, you WILL crawl through the wreckage of your team and your band, crawling on the shards of your harsh words and broken dreams back to Teddy, praying that he can somehow restore your relevance.”
She takes off her top hat, tossing it upward… from whence it does not return. Spinning the wand once, she flicks her wrist in the direction of the portrait, causing it to be set ablaze.
”I ‘let’ you make me into this monster, Grey. But much like Doctor Frankenstein himself, you can’t control what you’ve created. What’s even scarier about the whole situation, though, is that I can’t control myself, either. I’ve become this agitated, stressed, anger-filled beast. I find myself snapping at those close to me, I’m sleeping even less than usual and my every action is pushing me closer to a point which once put me in the hospital and out of the ring for several weeks.
Steps are being taken, though, thanks in no small part to an unexpected benefactor. I am seeking help for what I have become. But deep down I know that the only way to free myself of my own darkness, or at least to start down that path, is through defeating you at Validation. What I ‘gave’ you must be taken back. What you were ‘allowed’ to wield must be wrested from your hands. It isn’t as if I needed more motivation than I already had, but… there it is. Full circle.”
Unfolding her legs, Zoey stands upon the floor once again. She slashes at the air with her wand and the flames subside, leaving nothing but a pile of dust where the picture once stood. Over to the portrait of the championships she goes and, perhaps not so surprisingly, she takes them from the ‘canvas’. Walking in from the shadows is Farrah, dressed in crimson as contrast to Zoey’s purple. Handed her championship, she places it over her own shoulder as both women stare into the camera, gold in place.
”The saddest part for you two is that once this battle between our sides ends at Validation? Once we’ve retained our gold and set ourselves on the path to our next challenge? You will have nothing left. Let’s be real, ladies: every shred of the importance that you’re clinging to, the notoriety and the retweets and the Facebook shares… is owed to us. That’s what has to get in your gut and burn the most, Kenzi. You’re only important and talked about because you’re going up against us, because we’re the champions and the hottest team in LAW right now. Am I arrogant for saying that? Only to you. We have the statistics to back it up and the gold to galvanize the point.
Guilty Pleasure is nothing without the Boardwalk Angels. You were nothing before us. You will be nothing after us. I’ve said before that I do not compromise the truth for anyone or anything. Call me every name in the book, say that I’m mean, evil or worse. But what you cannot call me with any thrust or veracity is a liar. So know that I mean this, too, with every fiber of my being:”
She leans in just enough to emphasize the force of her words.
”I want you to suffer for what you’ve done. For all the pain and the deceit, the tears you’ve caused and the hatred you’ve sown. For everything that you have inflicted on those who you chose to target. And at Validation, we are going to make that happen. It will be the show of a lifetime for everyone you’ve hurt.”
”You two brought this on yourselves. Did I or did I not warn you multiple times that you were going to push too far? That the sweetest of souls has the darkest rage? It’s simple logic, all things being equal. Before, I would have tried to rein Zoey in a little and try to calm her down but… not anymore. Not until we do to you what you’ve been asking for since the ink dried on the contract for our first match. We started this war and at Validation, we finish it.”
”You’re going to learn how it feels when you push a good person too far. If you’re lucky, you’ll leave the ring with some residual relevance: being an example that you don’t cross the Boardwalk Angels.”
”Angels always rise.”
”So get ready to fly.”
Reaching upward into the shadows, Zoey takes down her hat and puts it back on. A burst of smoke emits from her wand and engulfs both herself and Farrah. The women are gone when a gust of air blows the smoke away.
Fade to black.