#fatedfights

     She was right there. Always so close and yet still so far off. Again Na/talya fell           short to becoming a three-time women’s champion. But there was no way      the Queen of Black Harts was going to take this lying down for long or demand       a pity party for a loss she was responsible for; sooner or later, she WOULD be       at the top of the mountain again. “This isn’t over, my friend. Becky Two Belts         won’t last for long. On a serious note, you didn’t have to say what you did                            about me but I do appreciate it. You have no idea.”

                        SHE WAS AN ABSOLUTE MESS.      not even jordan wanted to try and help fix her at this point in her   downward spiral, and if anyone could, it would’ve been him. her phone had been dead for three days now and she hadn’t left her flat in four. friends came and then left nearly as quickly as they had, deciding that she’d shake the funk she was in, in due time. the truth was that she was tired of being   hurt   time after time by men who never truly deserved her in the first place when she looked back on it. a series of events brought her to be single for the first time in over three years, which then led to dating terrible   sad excuses   that only had one thing on their minds. as of late, her thought process had become daily prayers and chants to the goddess to bring her some sort of   beacon of hope   that things would prove to get better; isla just wished that the goddess would speed things along a bit.

                        hair in unruly, bright trusses, the witch sighed softly and closed heavy–lidded eyes; eyes that were usual a bright, beaming light, now a dull shadow. her neighbors probably   hated her   now after blaring stevie nicks and fleetwood mac for the past twenty–four hours. even still, stevie played loudly and mulan silently fell over her television screen on mute. her messy pajamas and the rings on her coffee table from several mugs of tea told how rough the weekend had been. isla was doing her best to put her recent troubles behind her and move forward   positively, though it was proving futile and forced her to consider giving up on positivity–—–until a knock on her door and feet shuffling in caused a small quirk in her brow.

                        “   aren’t you s’posed to actually wait for someone t’ answer before you go   bargin’   in?   ”      her words were mumbled and barely translatable with her thick scottish accent as she faced away from whoever entered the flat. the familiar laugh of a friend made isla turn her head, glancing over her shoulder to see a third of british strong style and moustache mountain’s original only resident. a long, drawn out exhale left parted plump lips before she turned back around, watching the scene where   ‘  i’ll make a man out of you  ’   would play if the sound was on and not stevie instead.      

                        “   stevie’s right, you know. ah was afraid of changin’ because i built my life around this idea of what ah thought my life would be like with someone else. that landslide brought me down and now ah i don’t know how to fix it. and now non’a my mates will try to remind me   who ah am... and ah can’t remember on my own...   ”      sniffling, the white witch shifted on the sofa to look toward the doorway and show the sincerity in what she spoke. all she craved was someone to show her she was someone worth caring about, especially when trying to fill that   endless void   with a man had failed time and time again.

      you’ll change your mind –– after that moment, NOTHING felt the same. it had been a slow realization that he wasn’t a mistake. nothing about their time together had ever felt that way until she’d almost spilled her heart out to him. until she had ALMOST confessed that their steamy trysts and unspoken promises left her wanting more. more of him; more of THEM. 

but the LAST thing she was about to do now was tell him that. especially after his comment. it seemed as though the rising superstar had little interest in anything serious with the former diva, or really anyone. it wasn’t DIFFICULT for her to piece together that neither of them had been seeing anyone else. if he was spending as much time with her as he was, there didn’t seem to be much time for anyone else. ––– she wanted someone she could settle down with, start a family with. it was the thing that HAUNTED her in her last relationship, and ultimately became its undoing. with adam, she needed to know where things stood, so she did what any diva would do: SHE LIED.

i’m having dinner tonight with john. john. john, whose name she had not spoken aloud in months. john, whose promo appearances recently had set her blood boiling. of all the people for her to SUDDENLY be having dinner with... there was a REASON she’d mentioned him. it could have been dolph, but would adam ever be envious of dolph? it had to be john. the true face of the company, someone who could cast a long shadow of adam cole and all he had accomplished. 

CONTACT → Becky

                        HER SKIN POPPED AND SIZZLED LIKE A CRACKLING FIRE.      rich, irish blood was boiling and all she could hear was the sear that the thought of her fist against that   wannabe’s   face. becky was outrageously livid for obvious   (   and what she felt to be extremely valid   )   reasons. any other sport was never an option for her, never even a choice to consider. professional wrestling was her life and giving that up all those years back was the   hardest thing   the irishwoman ever did. if it weren’t for fergal coaxing her back into it, she’d be nothing now and she certainly wouldn’t have had a contract handed to her on her name alone for being a   piece of shit   human being like ronnie. the audacity that making a mockery out of the sport she poured blood, sweat and tears into because ronda thought she was so fucking high and mighty caused the current chaos to ensue in the performance center and it wasn’t pretty.

                        rebecca quin, as that sad excuse for a champion called her, was in the performance center to work on her knee. it was aching, but it was healing despite the several tempts by the corrupt system to completely take her out. being involved with the heated twitter exchanged forced her to   scream   at the trainer helping her out to leave. in her brace, the fiery woman hobbled off the table and made her way to the women’s locker room. elbows and fists as well as kicks with her good leg landed one after another at the lockers before her. all she could hear was a ringing in her ears and the   rapid beating   of her heart. it wasn’t until a hand took hold of her shoulder that she even realized someone was accompanying her in the room. 

                        a stiff right hand swung back and narrowly missed the person who only wanted to   help   her. stumbling back, becky saw it was cash, but the rage engulfed in flames she felt wouldn’t let her quit. putting a finger in his face, her mouth shot off like a canon aboard a ship determined not to lose a battle.      “   don’t put yer fuckin’ hands on me again or i’ll rip yer arm out   it’s socket,   ”      her words filled with venom, directed at someone she considered maybe the   only   best friend she had right now, spoke volumes about how this would commence with ronnie.

   THERE WAS AN IRREVOCABLE PAIN THAT HAD BLOOMED IN HIS CHEST AT HER WORDS.  it all really started when he knew that her time would be mostly spent in the uk; for the brand that she was representing. time away from him, thousands of miles away from him. he felt as if he’s wasted a lot of valuable time away from her when he should’ve been unafraid and spent every moment with her. rest of the world be damned! but he couldn’t change the past, and he couldn’t change the present either. she was going, whether he liked it or not, because this was excellent for her career. it was bittersweet, but he would never do anything to deter her career.

he took in a shaky breath and reached out for her, large fingertips touching her cheek. “ i’ll miss you… more than i could ever put to words. i’ll dream of you every night, i’ll think of you every day. you’ll always be in my heart. ” he had to remind himself that she wasn’t dying. that she was alive and well and doing amazing things with her life. even if it meant it all had to be without him. he needed to be happy for her. no matter what. but his heart still ached. “ i’m sorry for every damn second i didn’t spend with you. go fuckin’ kick the world’s ass, stormy. you’re gonna be a goddamn legend. ”

   A WARMTH SPREAD WITHIN IRIS AND A LARGE SMILE STRETCHED OVER HER LIPS.  his confession of such a deep love for her sister made her happier than she could imagine. though, she and rowan didn’t have the greatest relationship yet, her happiness meant the world to iris. no matter what, no matter how little she actually knew her sister; she loved her and to know that trent loved her this much was important to her and she was ecstatic he shared his feelings with her.

“ you do? ” she asked excitedly, unconsciously reaching out and gripping the older man’s hand. “ that’s really amazing, trent! i’m so happy for you. and her. for both of you! have you told rowan how you feel yet? ”