Post by Anastasia Hayden on Jan 20, 2017 3:52:31 GMT -5
January 20th
For as up as things had recently become in Anastasia’s life, she still found herself seated in the back table of a seedy looking bar. Calling the place a dump would almost be a compliment. It was worse than that and the service was nearly nonexistent, but she didn’t mind. Keeping a low profile and minimum contact was her preferred surroundings when it came to drinking. Her eyes scanned the room: All losers who looked like they were down on their luck or about to be. What a crowd. She wondered what that made her as she took a drink.
Earlier in the week, she had flown into Grand Rapids from Boston after spending a week with her old stablemate turned romantic interest: Bryan Williams. The label “boyfriend” still made her worried. But she needed someone to lean on. While everything in her mind was telling her to run, her body couldn’t. Like many of her relationships, it wasn’t planned, but gradually their dynamic changed. In many ways, she was thankful for it. Their time together served as a distraction from the damage she’d inflict on herself every time she’d take a booking.
It was easy to remember all of her failed relations. The thought that Bryan wouldn’t be any different crept into her mind. She couldn’t shake it, but for once, Ana felt hope. Her run in AWE and #FSociety had given her some umph that she desperately needed. Even with the health risks associated with them. Those didn’t matter to her. She’d happily wear down her body in the ring as long as it meant she was getting a paycheck. And winning made those paychecks a bit heftier at the end of the week. So becoming happy became a priority.
And so she drank. Not to forget the misery, but to celebrate her life. While often her life was misery, the last few weeks had become the exception. She did cringe at the reality that Massacre and Anarchy were coming up, meaning her recently healed up body would have to go through two more bouts of abuse. But she knew she had her escape at the end of the line: Bryan. That’s what it all revolved around at the moment. Not that’d she ever tell him that.
To celebrate her life and her partner all alone was almost a perfect painting of her life, she thought. Sure, she knew it’d only be a short time before the suffering came back and she’d go back to her pity party, but at the moment, none of that mattered. The delusional “warrior” prepping herself up for Hell. She’d arrive at the gates with the rare smile on her face. If it meant fighting another day, if it meant earning her wages, and if it meant finding her happiness; she’d tear down any man or woman in her path.
That meant Caroline O’Hara Burchill.
The woman she had beaten before. Also the same woman who made it impossible for Ana to finish their match in a proper fashion. She’d make a note to request her entrance after Caroline’s. But barring any sneak attack, Anastasia felt confident heading into their match. Why shouldn’t she? The first edition of Massacre proved she could take the worst beating and still come out victorious. But Ana paused her train of thought.
Happy.
Confident.
Optimism.
Was Anastasia Hayden growing complacent?
Before she could finish her thought, a loud crash at the front of the bar caught her attention. A drunken brawl had broken out and that was her cue to exit. She finished off her drink and took a detour toward the exit. The door slammed shut behind her and all that could be heard was the muffled yelling back inside the bar. She wanted to forget it. As she turned, she tripped over a drunken and passed out patron.
"Sorry."
Of course, she didn't mean it. But he said nothing in return. Never stirred. When she stepped back into the realm of silence, her mind drifted back: Complacent. Complacent. Complacent. A curse that burdened her with a heavy presence. Her fear had returned. And she was all alone. Everything was starting to feel wake around her. As if she'd blink and reappear in her hotel room. But no matter how hard she tried, she was stuck. Before pulling up her phone to get an Uber, She took one last look back at the bar entrance. The man was gone. Was he there to begin with?
Paranoid.
January 21st
Bright and early, Anastasia wanted to die. In the gym, she pushed herself to the extreme. It didn’t matter how hungover she was mainly because she was scared. Even the slightest hint of her fears becoming a reality and she’d run. But there wasn’t any escaping. Not today. And she’d have to work with that. The only way to do that was to train. She didn’t care about her condition. She just didn’t want to become complacent.
And she needed to prove that. To herself. Beating Caroline Burchill proved that. That was where the problem began. So she pushed herself, harder than she ever had before. She pushed herself to the point where she was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion and once she reeled herself back in, it was time for a new round.
Hours went by, but she didn’t care. She needed to make herself sick. She needed to hurt herself. And that was exactly what she had in mind. Anything to distract her from her own mind. A new challenge stepped in front of her and she was scared. At the end of the day, there was no workout intense enough to free her from her fears. But she thought it never hurt to try.
Simply surviving the fight against Caroline wasn’t enough. Ana knew that she had to beat Caroline. And she had to win. That win would send her fear retreating, but that was only a temporary fix. Temporary was all she wanted. If it meant postponing the hand of doom from wrapping around her throat, she’d take it.
After all, she figured life was temporary to begin with.
“I’ve never been one to back down from any challenge. Even when everyone is so certain that my opponent also brings my impending doom with them...I step up. It doesn’t matter how hard you hit or how tight you lock in those submissions...I’m not scared. I’ve never been scared. And the ‘Killer Queen’ can use her words to intimidate me all she wants, but we all know the reality of the situation between us. I’ve beaten her in AWE. She’s beaten me in PAW. And we’re both so stuck up on the past.”
“Let’s break that, yeah? Let’s focus on what’s in front of us, Caroline. You seem to hold a lot of resentment toward me because PAW saw something in me. If I was petty, I’d call it jealousy. But regardless, you still harbor a lot of hatred toward me. The feeling is certainly mutual, don’t fret about that. But here’s the thing, Caroline. Me becoming the last ever Titans of the Midway Champion seems to bother you quite a bit. Allow me to say this and we’ll be done with it: I never cared about the Titans of the Midway Championship.”
“Hell, I’ve got it collecting dust back in my home. If you want, I’d happily attach your name to the plate and you can finally have something to validate your worthless existence in PAW. And you know what? If I win the Alpha Cup, I’ll do the same thing for you. And maybe...just maybe, Caroline, if you beat me and you win the Alpha Cup all on your own like a big girl instead of the whiny brat you are...maybe then your career as a professional wrestler will be vindicated.”
“But, come on, let’s be honest. We both know that’s not true. The reality is that if I don’t win the Alpha Cup, it’s because I don’t care. And it’s because I let you. Just like in PAW. I won a title I didn’t care about and you did fuck all. Yeah, you beat me...and where has that gotten you since? Because on the other hand, after I beat you, it’s done wonders for my career. I’ve earned another championship I don’t care about and I’ve become the MVP of AWE. Maybe that’s the vindication you need right there. You can be forever known as an all-star perennial loser! How about that?”
“After Sunday, we can just put all of this behind us. Whether you beat me or I beat you...it’ll be over between us. I’ll make sure of that. We’ll go back to doing what we do best. For you, it’d be bitching and moaning about your greatness with nothing to back it up. For me, it’ll be fighting and putting my body through hell just because it feels right.”
“And if that doesn’t motivate you, Caroline, I don’t know what will. If you don’t bring me a fight...I’ll just have to bring a fight to you. And I’ve got the perfect thing in mind. See, the damage I’ve taken in this tournament thus far is unmatched. Zack, James, and you haven’t gone through the same things I’ve gone through. So in order to reflect that, I’ll make sure to send you crashing onto a set of steel steps. I’ll make sure I bash your skull into the concrete outside the ring. And I’ll make sure if you manage to win...that you won’t make it to the next show.”
“But Caroline...don’t count on it.”
January 22nd
Anastasia arrived to the venue early. The skeleton crew running the ship were walking around the backstage area trying to orchestrate the show. She stepped into the general locker room after putting on her gear. Inside of her bag, she took out her kick pads and wrist tape, but along with those items, her phone fell onto the floor.
As she picked it up, the screen turned on. A laundry list of notifications ranging from emails, Twitter, and everything else, but one item caught her attention. Or rather, a repeating item:
“Allie Hayden
Missed Call”
Her sister. She sighed and checked the time, debating on whether to call now or before her next flight. Unfortunately for her, it’d still be awhile before even the rest of the roster would start to pour in. Pulling up the call screen, she held her breath as she hit the dial button. Instantly, the line picked up.
“Ana? Where the hell have you been?!”
“I’ve been working, Allie.”
“Working?! Ana, I’ve tried getting a hold of you!”
“Look, sorry I can’t be by my phone all the time. What do you want?”
Ana kept her words sharp and to the point.
“Mom’s been in an accident.”
Her sister didn’t pull any punches either.
“You need to get out here.”
And the line went dead. Anastasia frozen in time. Her mind raced and ventured all over the place. Then the harsh reality sunk in next. She couldn’t leave. Selfishly, her first thoughts were her matches. And that’s what she had to do first. There wasn’t any backing down. Regardless of the severity. And she shutdown.
No matter how happy she was; she’d never be able to escape.
The black silhouette would never leave Anastasia.
But he didn’t always need to be by her bedside.