Post by Anastasia Hayden on Feb 3, 2017 2:27:55 GMT -5
It's okay to say you've got a weak spot
You don't always have to be on top
Better to be hated than loved, loved, loved for
What you're not
There was once a time where Anastasia Hayden’s life revolved around her family. Her sisters, her mother, and father. They meant the world to her. But she grew up. Too fast. And too cynical. She entered the world with a warped view. A fear developed; one she’d never be able to escape. The places change, but the fear never does. Complacent. Doing nothing with your life. And being happy with doing nothing. All it took was a simple excuse to run away. As the years went by, the excuses started growing complex. She bought into the foolishness that she’d eventually be happy. Instead, she brought people into her life that she knew she’d have to cut out of it; just a matter of when and where.
Anastasia: The ticking time bomb. The flight from Bismarck to Indianapolis was a minefield she struggled to navigate through. She brought someone else into her life: Bryan Williams. A friend, one she wisely had fallen out of touch with, but they came together. She was terrified of their relationship. Not for her, but for Bryan. He’d already had his heart broken in the worst way and Anastasia was primed to do it again. Every day they spent together, she drew closer to him and just like death, an impending doom lingered.
Her mother wasn’t any different. Guilt ate at her on the flight. No matter how many miniature bottles of alcohol that she knocked back, she couldn’t forget the first sight of her mother hooked up to various machines keeping her alive. And Ana abandoned her. Out of her own selfish fears. The little sleep she did get would be haunted with the image of her mother. And if she did manage to escape that nightmare, the crushing pressure of growing complacent would be there for her.
And she had her excuse to run. The ignorance allowed her to believe it was a foolproof plan until it blew up in her face. A poor attack led to a hasty retreat and mass casualties. Not like it was any different from any other retreat in her life. Whether it be Tyler, KJ, Benji. Anastasia deserved a life of suffering for inflicting the same to others. But was she truly to be blamed? A question she struggled with. Perhaps one that didn’t have an answer.
Her inner demons consumed her on a nightly basis. She pushed herself harder in the gym every day, nearly to the point of collapse, just in hopes that she’d be able to put herself to sleep and avoid being forced to think about the ghouls. But she was outgunned. In North Dakota, she had stayed sober for the week off, but as soon as she boarded her flight, she reverted back to her vice. It was her against her mind and she didn’t stand a chance. She was outmanned. The night before Executive Action was no different. She was outnumbered, out planned.
The ball she had curled up to on the edge of the bed didn’t help her. Her head tucked between her knees and her fingers interlocked over her ponytail. There was no surprise that she had been drinking. Her nerves and fears were getting to her again. Help was a phone call away, but she was scared. She was scared to show anymore weakness to anyone. That mistake was made once; never again, she thought.
Her hands trembled at the thought of the Alpha Cup and her match against James Radford. She wanted to be back in the hospital with mommy and be safe again. But that option was gone. There was no escape. Anastasia wanted everything to be alright. But that was never an option to begin with. She released herself from her own grasp and rose up from the bed, looking into the bathroom mirror just a few feet away from her. Her reflection: Pitiful, red from crying and drinking, a grim look, like one looking for death as an escape.
But her reflection didn’t make Ana feel sorry for herself. It made her angry. Her hands trembled out of fear no longer, but with rage. Each step toward the mirror was filled with volatile hatred. Bryan, her mother, the Alpha Cup, James Radford. They were all starting to manifest in her soul. And they were fighting with each other to be released. Her focus couldn’t be spread anymore. She needed something to fight for. She needed a war. The elements brewing inside her were the perfect powder keg to explode.
Anastasia’s breathing had become rapid as she gripped onto the edge of the sink, her knuckles white. She needed validation for her fear and her escape. She needed a release. And there was no black plastic case containing a razor blade to save her. In that moment, staring at herself in the hotel bathroom mirror, she needed to prove herself. And so she did. As Anastasia drove her fist into the mirror, it shattered and shards scattered across the room.
Her knuckles bled, but she didn’t care. Ana felt at peace as she watched her blood pour over the white porcelain and broken glass. She was going to see Bryan again. She was going to see her mother again. But before she could do any of that, she needed to see the Alpha Cup and James Radford. The finals were a day away and in her drunken state of mind, she had to brace for it. Martyrdom. No. Not yet, she thought. Before that, Anastasia needed a war.
It was time for Anastasia Hayden to rise up.
“My entire life has been plagued by burdens. I’ve been held back by managements. I’ve been let down by tag team partners. And I’ve been forced to carry championship gold. Just a few more days and I’ll be strapped with another burden, another title I don’t necessarily want: The Alpha Cup. When I win it, everyone will refer to me as the ‘Alpha Cup Winner’ and I don’t want that. In fact, fuck that. The Alpha Cup should be so lucky to be won by me. If AWE wasn’t too busy locking me up, they’d be honored having me win the Alpha Cup.”
“I don’t fucking need it. No championship, no cup, no tournament, and no other wrestler is as important as Anastasia Hayden. I’ve been dealt every disadvantage in my career and yet I’m still on top of the fucking world! I’m not the MVP of AWE, I’m the MVP of Professional Wrestling. People want to be me. They see me fight and they want to be me. I’m a fucking role model. And I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck. That’s not having an ego or being arrogant, that’s just confidence. That’s the truth. Everywhere I’ve gone, it doesn’t matter if I win a match or lose one, people talk about Anastasia Hayden.”
“I’ve had a few days to sit and think...to reflect. I’ve made my mission very clear as of late, I want to embarrass AWE. I want to embarrass the executives like Thirteen, Francis, Kassandrah, and Elliot who didn’t pick me to represent them. I want to embarrass the people who had me arrested. For too long, I’ve carried the weight of this company on my shoulder so guys like James Radford, Zack Fantana, and Stoker could step up above me, but no longer. No, fuck that. I’m not throwing away my shot. Executive Action is my platform I need to embarrass the entirety of AWE and I will rise up for my stake. Whoever wins the main event, it doesn’t matter. At the end of the night, I’ll own AWE.”
“And I’ll do that with or without the Alpha Cup. If James Radford wants that worthless piece of gold, then he can fucking have it. Just...you’re not beating me for it, James. I’ll break your face on the canvas, I’ll pin you, and then I’ll dump the Alpha Cup right onto you. That’s what you want, right? The Alpha Cup? Cause you’re like every other egotistical wrestler here, you need that validation. You need the ‘fans’ to respect you. I’d say you have some kind of hero complex, but in reality, you’ve got a death wish. Your stereotypical Southern stubbornness won’t allow you to see through the convoluted macho man cowboy bullshit to know that you don’t stand a chance against me.”
“Hell, I’d be satisfied starting the match off by cracking you over the skull with the Alpha Cup. You’ve won by DQ before, why not add another tarnished victory to your legacy? Continue proving to everyone that you’re a coward. But you’ll play it off. You’ll hold that cup, cut a cheap message about having pride and honor, then fuck off and keep being the hick that you are. Granted, you’ll be a hick with the Alpha Cup, so that’s something, yeah? Even better, James, you can spit out all the trash you speak into the cup too.”
“There’s no excuses for me on Sunday. You’re not my opponent in this match, James. It’s AWE. Everything it stands for and everyone behind it. I’m tearing down this company. And while you’re not my opponent, James, and the Alpha Cup isn’t my goal...don’t think I’m going to take this easy. You’ll become the first causality in my crusade against AWE. The Alpha Cup...James Radford...they mean nothing to royalty...nothing to the Grand Duchess. But the blood that will be shed in our match will mean everything. When your blood pours onto the canvas, James, it’ll mean the start of my rebellion.”
“So, again, for last time. The Alpha Cup isn’t what I’m fighting for at Executive Action. I fought all the way to get to the finals and I’ve already won. I’ve already been given my platform. I just need to perform. And don’t worry, James, I’ll do whatever it takes to break your neck. I won’t be satisfied until I hear you choking on your own blood, James! So take the fucking trophy, win the fucking tournament...I don’t care. It means so much to you...take it if you really want it. Or take it when I give it to you. You’re not earning anything. You’re not beating me. You can ‘win’ against me, but you’re not beating me. You’re not ready for this fight. You’ll never be ready.”
“There’s no glamour in winning the Alpha Cup for you, James. When the world’s moved on and people have forgotten about you...when you have to pawn that gold to keep going. You’ll remember me. The scars that I’ll leave...you’ll remember me. And I won’t give a fuck about you.”
“So keep running your mouth. Come Sunday, I’ll kick your teeth down your throat and shut it for you.”