Breakdown 4-22-21
{{Thursday, February 18
Cleveland
Before}}
By some miracle, when I called my former bodyguard Marco Ruiz, he was available to work for me right away. I had expected him to either have a full time private position, or be with another security firm. But, he had just ended a short term job, and therefore was able to get to New Orleans and sign on with me again for the foreseeable. This was one of the men who protected me when I was being stalked and harassed, which turned out to be Julian LeBlanc, a man I had kinda sorta been seeing before Dom and I officially got together. He was feeding information to TMZ though, he was responsible for me losing my Dior contract, he told TMZ what happened at my photo shoot for Dior, with Lancelot Crane. LeBlanc is in jail for harassment and breaking into my house. Crane is in prison for murder, several models actually. I feel lucky all he ever did to me was manipulate me into sex and put his hand around my throat once or twice.
Anyway, I was relieved to see Marco arrive at my house. He's a tall, well built Mexican, former Army Ranger. And gets along really well with Scott, if you know what I mean. After I spoke to Sienna the day the photos broke, I decided it was best to avoid social media, and obviously the vultures when I had to leave for Breakdown. That's where Marco was needed. Of course Dom came with us. It was the biggest night, the biggest match of my career. I was being made to defend my World Championship against potentially over a dozen other people, one after the other, if my number came up first. On the flight to Cleveland, I had no idea how I was going to concentrate on that, after my tits were plastered all over the internet. But, Dom and Marco both did their best to calm me down, and by the time we landed, I had found a way to separate everything in my head. Compartmentalize. I had to focus on one problem at a time, and for now, keeping my championship was the more pressing issue.
It's about two hours before air time when Dom, Jaina, Scott, Marco, and I arrive at the arena. There hadn't been many vultures at the airport thanks to my private plane and how they have special gates. But the hotel and outside the arena were chaos. Marco did his job though, forced everyone back so we could get through. Scott and Jaina had gone in ahead, Scott with my luggage and Jaina to get her assignments. Once Marco cleared a path, Dom and I follow and sign in.
“Are you sure it's alright for me to be here, Miss Lancaster?”
“Yes, I called Sasha this morning and got clearance for you. She knew about the leak, she understands.”
“Perfect. One less hassle I have to deal with. Although I'm sure you won't have any trouble now that you're inside the building.”
“I wouldn't be so sure, Bree has a lot of enemies on the roster.”
“I do, but do you think any of them would stoop to-” The skeptical look on Dom's face stops me mid-sentence. “Hmm. Yeah, you're probably right. Jason's here.”
“Exactly.”
Just then, Scott approaches. He explains to me where my locker room is. “Your things are waiting for you. Jaina said to tell you she will see you right before bell time.”
“Thanks Scotty.”
“I'll go ahead to your locker room to make sure it's secure before you come in. Wait about five minutes.”
“Okay.” Marco gives me a nod and leaves.
“I'm off to eavesdrop.” Scott gives me a smirk, then makes a point to watch Marco walk away before walking off himself. That man has the ability to make me laugh even when everything is on fire.
“And I'm off to find my seat, unless you want me to stay with you?”
“No baby, it's okay. I'll have Marco outside the door, and you know I like to get ready for title matches alone anyway. This is like... a dozen of them.”
“Right. Okay. Well, kick ass. I love you.” He kisses me.
“I love you too.”
Scott and Dom walk off together, no doubt Scott showing Dom where the VIP section was in this arena. I check my phone while I wait the five minutes Marco asked me to wait. I have a text from Sienna telling me she's watching and wishing me luck. And one from Reece saying much the same thing. After the five minutes pass, I go down the hallway, where Scott described to me. I was on the other end from the talent entrance, all the way past gorilla and around a corner. As I turn that corner, I see Chris Cannon of all people outside what I was pretty sure was my door. He has a few papers in one hand, and looks like he's either putting one up or taking one off my door. I was already not in the mood for him after I saw his promo video and he gave me shit for staying off social media, trying to make it sound like I was avoiding everyone I would have to face tonight. He's either a complete asshole, or has been living under a rock. I know what my guess is, regardless what Sienna told me about how they'd been speaking more recently. I glare as I walk closer. Chris doesn't see me, he's focused on what he's doing. I push his arm.
“You have some fucking nerve coming up to my locker room after what you said in-” Just then, I notice what the papers are.
They're printed pictures. My picture. The one leaked on the internet. There are some in Chris' hand, and three or four taped to my door.
“Chris?! What the fuck are you doing?! I had a feeling you probably hated me after I heard your promo, but this seems low, even for you!”
“No, you have it wrong. I'm taking them down! Look!” He shows me the papers in his hand, and I can see how some are torn where pulled at the tape.
“Wait, what? You... why?”
“Because no one needs to see this, that's why!”
“But... how did you even... why were you at my locker room in the first place?”
Chris continues pulling the remaining pics down as he speaks. “I was coming to apologize to you about the promo. I actually didn't know about... this, until just earlier, Sienna told me.”
Oh my God, he did live under a rock. “Do you not use the internet?”
“I haven't been, no. I've had other things going on and- did you hear me? I was apologizing.”
I sigh. “Yes, I heard you. Thank you. So... if you weren't doing this, who did?”
“Glad you asked. I walked up and caught one of the backstage crew red-handed. I grabbed him just as your... bodyguard?” I nod. “Walked up. He's in there with the kid, waiting for you.” Chris pulls the last picture off my door, adds it to the stack in his hands, and folds them all in half.
“I see. No one called security?”
“Your man and I both assumed you'd want to talk to him yourself first.”
Chris knew me well. I had to remind myself that one, he betrayed Sienna and two, he was one of my potential opponents tonight. “I actually would.”
Chris opens my door and we both walk in. Marco has a staff member I've never seen before in zip-tie cuffs. He looks like a teenager.
“Miss Lancaster, you're here. Let me introduce you to Caleb. He's the artist who decided to decorate your door.” Marco shoves the kid forward. I glare at him so hard my eyes hurt.
“Caleb?”
“Yes ma'am.” He sounds scared. He should be.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“It was just a joke! Some of the other guys-”
“A joke? A joke?! Do I look like I'm laughing? Do you think I'm just a caricature on TV and not a real person? Do you understand that this is my life? Is my life a joke to you, Caleb?”
“Yes... I mean, no... I mean.... I'm sorry!”
“Oh, you will be. How long have you worked for SCW?”
“I... I don't. I work for the arena.”
“Not anymore, you don't.” I turn to Marco. “Get Dean Black in here, please.”
"Of course. But... I'd rather not leave you alone with this guy.”
“I'll stay with them.” I spin and stare at Chris. I had forgotten he was here.
“You will?”
“Yes. Dean will probably want to speak to me anyway, I'm who busted him.”
“Right. Okay.”
Marco nods, and leaves, off to find Dean Black. Chris turns to Caleb and glares. The kid takes a step backwards.
“You... sit down and shut up. We'll be just outside this door.”
“Yes sir.” Caleb sits on the couch.
Chris opens the door and I step out, I'm not sure why he wanted to go in the hallway but I didn't mind, I kinda didn't want to be in the same room with the little bastard anyway. Chris closes the door behind himself, and leans on the frame. If Caleb tried to come out, he'd be greeted with a rather large bicep.
“You didn't have to do this, Chris. I could have called Scott to find Dean, or-”
“I don't mind. It gives us a chance to speak, now that you're not mistaking me for some kind of pervert.”
I sigh. “I guess I deserve that. Sienna had a picture leak too. She told me you've been speaking more lately, I should have known you wouldn't be so crude. I apologize. I was just angry about what you said, and... well, all of it.”
“Understood. We won't dwell on it. I do want you to know Bree, that I don't hold you any ill will. I understand you were angry with me over the way I handled things with Nathaniel and Kelcey.”
“That's an understatement. You hurt Sienna. She's my best friend, that means you hurt me. After she asked me to trust you. I did, and look where we are.”
“I know, and I'm sorry you feel like your trust was broken. You need to understand though, it was always about what was best for my son. Can you honestly tell me that he was safe around Sienna?” Dammit. Chris knows I won't lie. But I don't want to admit he was right, either. I just look down. “That's what I thought.”
“I tried to keep her from going too far.” I look back up, and see he's nodding. He knows I tried. “But there were other ways you could have-”
“Maybe. But that was the option I had at the time. She understands that now, or at least I think she's starting to. It would be nice if you would, as well.”
“I don't know, Chris. Do you know how much it killed me knowing that I held that baby boy last before you gave him back, and not Sienna? I don't know if she remembers that, but I do. And I wish it had been her.” Nathaniel had been in my lap in the courtroom that day, Sienna gave him to me when she stood up to speak.
“She's seen him since.”
“I know, that isn't the point.”
“What is the point, Bree?”
“I... I don't know. Everything is so messed up right now. And not just with Sienna and you, and Sienna being hurt.... but I mean. The pictures. Tonight.... we're talking casually like we used to right now, but later we'll likely be opponents. And then what, Chris?”
“Then.... we fight as the professionals we are. I'm not exactly thrilled about the match situation either, but I am going to make the most of it I can.”
“I know you will. Can... can we pretend like the last few months or whatever didn't happen and we're still friends for a moment?”
“I suppose....”
“I don't think I'm going to leave here tonight with my title.” I know, it's crazy that I said that to him, but at the moment I really wished things were like they used to be, when everyone was on good terms and I trusted him. Sienna isn't here and Dom would try to give me a pep talk, and I didn't want to hear that. I just wanted to get it off my chest. Ugh, phrasing...
“Bree....”
“Not unless my number is in the last four or five. I don't think I have that kind of endurance.”
Chris looks at me as if he doesn't know me. Which is really weird. “Why are you admitting this to me?”
“Out of all the people in this clusterfuck Ace put together, there are only a handful of people I would be comfortable seeing walk out with my title. You're one of them. I know you would never disrespect it.”
“I appreciate that, more than you know.”
“If it comes down to you and me though, I'm not going to make it easy.”
Chris smirks. “Neither will I.”
“I wouldn't want it any other way.”
Chris then looks over my shoulder, then gestures behind me. I look, and see Marco, with Dean Black behind him.
“Bree.... Chris.... what's going on here?” Even Dean seems confused seeing Chris and I talking.
Chris steps up and hands Dean the folded papers that he pulled off my door. “This.” He turns to me. “Sorry, Bree, I have to show him what was-”
“I know.” At this point I assume that everyone I encounter has seen it so I'm numb to it. Dean takes the papers from Chris and unfolds it.
“Oh dear God...” He folds it back quickly. “I'd heard about this unfortunate incident, Bree, I'm sorry. So, what happened here?” He waves the folded papers.
Chris opens my locker room door. Caleb stands up and his face goes white when he sees Dean.
“I walked up on Caleb here taping these to Bree's door.”
“And I detained him until Bree arrived and asked me to fetch you.”
“I see.” Dean walks up to Caleb. “Who do you work for, son?”
“The arena.”
“We'll see about that. Bree, would you like me to call security?”
“Please. I want him fired. And arrested!”
Caleb steps forward. Marco puts his hand up and stops him. “What? Arrested? Over a prank? Come on!”
I spin around. “This is not just a prank, you wretch! You taped these to my door to mess with me, given the nature of the picture, this is sexual harassment!”
“Wait... no it isn't! Is it....?” Caleb stares at Dean.
“Actually... more than likely. We'll see what the local authorities think.” Dean presses a button on his earpiece. “Get me security to Bree Lancaster's locker room please.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
“Of course. Mr. Ruiz, would you escort this young man to the hallway so Bree and Chris can continue their conversation inside?”
“No need for that, Dean. I've said what I came here to say to Bree in the first place. Unless you need something else from me?”
“No, you're good.”
Chris nods. “In that case, I'll be on my way. Big match to prepare for and all.”
Dean gives Chris a nod back. Chris starts to leave.
“Chris?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Chris then walks off. As I was trying to figure out how I felt about all of this, the security Dean Black called for arrive.
“Ah, thanks for coming quickly. We have a bit of a situation with one of your staff...."
In the end, the man was fired on the spot and taken away, Marco's zip-tie cuffs still on him. I hope he serves time. Pervert.
* * * * * {{After}} * * * * *
The officials wouldn't even give me time to process what had just happened with Glory Braddock. Knee to my ribs from overhead. A few moves exchanged. One, two, three, and I didn't have the breath or the strength to get the bitch off me. It felt like my ribs were broken. Her music played for a few seconds as officials politely but firmly made me leave the ring. The crowd was cheering, I can't fathom why... then the next challenger's music started... Chris Cannon's. Ii hit me that I wasn't going to face him after all. I couldn't believe I was leaving ringside without my championship, because of her. As I passed Chris we exchanged a look. I wondered what he was thinking. Me? I focused all my energy on standing up straight and walking out on my own. Scott had my arm, he could tell something was wrong, but I don't think anyone else knew... until I got through the curtain.
I see Dom and two steps past gorilla I lean over, holding my side and groan. If Scott hadn't been there I might have sank to the floor. I was just relieved that I made it through the curtain first.
"Bree?! What's wrong? You looked fine walking-"
"Most important thing... Amy taught me... never let them... see you hurt." I gesture around above my head, meaning the crowd.
"What is it?"
"Ribs... bitch kneed me hard." Talking made it worse. Scott still had a grip on one of my arms. Dom takes the other.
"Come on, Breezy. Off to medical with you."
The three of us walk down the hall a short way to the medical room. Everyone we passed moved out of the way as we made our way there. I saw half sympathy and half contempt. I wonder how many think I'm faking being hurt to have an 'excuse' later. I then realize I don't give a fuck. It doesn't matter.
It's over.
Just like I told Chris I was afraid of, I was going to leave this city without my championship. Why did it have to be her?!
I sit on the table in silence as the head trainer, Rich, pokes and prods my side. I look down at myself, my gear top removed, just in the sports bra I wear under it, and already see a large purple splotch on my left side where it hurts. I can hear Rich, Scott, and Dom talking, but their words sound like every adult in a Charlie Brown cartoon.
"bree... Bree?.... Bree!"
Finally, I understood that Dom was talking to me. "Oh... sorry. What?"
"Did you hear Rich?"
"No..." I look at Rich.
"We're going to send you to the nearest hospital for x-rays. I can't tell if anything is broken or not, there's swelling."
"Okay."
He looks at me oddly. "That's it? You're not going to protest?"
"No. The rest of the show doesn't matter. I don't care. When am I leaving?"
“Now. Transport is waiting.”
I feel Dom's hand on my shoulder, and see Scott cross his arms. These things tell me they are worried about me. But other than the burning throbbing in my side, I am fine. It doesn't matter to me who ends up with my championship in the end. After I heal from whatever Glory's fucking knee did to my ribs?
I'm coming for what belongs to me.
Later, in the private ER at the hospital, I got a text from Jaina while I waited for the x-rays to come back. It was two words, but I knew what it meant.
["It's Chris."]
Chris Cannon, with my championship. I nodded to no one in particular. I could live with that. For now.
{{Monday, Feb 22
Kenner}}
* * * * * {{ Dom }} * * * * *
It's mid-morning and Dom is downstairs at home, having coffee. Bree was still asleep, he'd let her sleep in. The meds she was given for her rib injury made her more tired than usual. Besides, the body needs rest to heal. Bree had taken the doctor's suggestions to heart and stayed mostly in bed the last few days. Dom suspected she was happy for an excuse to hide – both from the fact she'd lost the World Championship, and the dumpster fire that was the internet. Bree had completely avoided not only Twitter, but the internet in general since the photos of herself and Sienna were released. Both Dom and Sienna had told her what some of the articles were saying, but Bree didn't seem to want to hear it. Dom knew his fiancee, he knew that despite the way she put on a stoic face, the whole thing had humiliated her and she just wanted it to go away. Unfortunately, Dom knew that the internet didn't work that way, no matter how much Bree wanted to ignore it. It was a rough time for her.... injured, titleless, and exposed. No wonder she was content to hide in their bedroom. It was very unlike Bree but Dom understood.
Sipping his coffee, Dom has his phone in hand, checking the usual trash media sites. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but felt he had to do, for Bree's sake – keep up with what was being said, no matter how disgusting or asinine. Today's angle so far seemed to be that Bree hadn't made a statement yet because she didn't want to admit to being in the position to have it taken in the first place, given how it was well known that she was against posing nude. Speculation as to how she was caught topless ran rampant, and one of the theories was the correct one – that she and Crane really did have sex during the shoot as was reported, but they denied. Dom didn't want Bree to know some shit-stirring reporter had accidentally guessed the truth. It also made him angry and ill to think about it. He puts his phone down in disgust, debating if maybe he should ignore all of this too, and let his agent Lisa alert him if anything too troublesome was printed.
As if on cue to his thoughts, Dom's phone rings and he see's Lisa's name on the display. Had he missed something?
“Morning, Lisa.”
“Good morning. How's things going today?”
“If you mean Bree, she's still sleeping. If you mean me.... I was just reading internet shit and it made me glad I didn't eat breakfast yet.”
“I see. Inside Edition make you nauseated again?”
“So you've seen it.”
“I've seen a dozen. A few reporters are drawing the same conclusion between this picture and a story about a photo shoot from two or so years ago. I didn't want to upset Bree with the question, but I have to ask... are they right?”
Dom sighs. Bree hadn't wanted anyone to know the photo shoot story was true. Very few people knew the truth. In fact he knew that it was that fact that upset Bree the most about this whole thing; she felt this picture was proof that she lied when she denied that story. He'd heard her talking to Sienna about it. But, Lisa was now Bree's agent as well. And to do her job, she had to know what she was dealing with. Dom knew Bree would be upset with him for this, but he couldn't lie.
“Yeah.... yeah, they are.”
“Sonofabitch....”
Dom tells Lisa what happened back then, how Bree had been manipulated into it.
“That's absolutely disgusting. No wonder she's avoiding this.”
“It's hit her pretty hard. Thursday night didn't help matters either. Before her match, a member of the arena staff was caught taping print outs of the picture to her locker room door.”
“My God.”
“SCW threw the book at him of course, Sasha D doesn't mess around with things like that. But Bree saw it, you know?”
“Everything about this is horrifying. I feel for her, I really do. And now dealing with not only losing her title but an injury on top of this. How is she feeling?”
“Last night was a little rough. She wanted to take a shower. I offered to help, at least with her hair so she wouldn't have to reach up, but she wanted to do it by herself. Ended up in a lot of pain when she was done. I think that's why she slept in, she took an extra pill to be able to sleep.”
“Sorry to hear that. I hope she feels better today.”
“Me too.”
There is silence for a moment, and Dom knows the real reason Lisa called is incoming.
“Listen, I really hate to push this with her being hurt, but the reason I called you about her is because... well, I spoke to her yesterday about the photo situation. I don't think it's wise for her to remain silent about it. The longer she waits to address it, the more the media can whip up all kinds of stories and theories and make things worse. She really needs to say something. I suggested a press conference, even just putting out a statement would help. But she refused.”
Dom sighs. He knows better than most how stubborn Bree can be when she does or doesn't want to do something. Lisa had dealt with her unofficially for a while now, just by being his girlfriend. Now Lisa was going to find out firsthand about Bree's hardheadedness.
“I'm not surprised. She doesn't want anything to do with it. She doesn't even want to talk about it.”
“I got that impression. And I really do hate to press the issue, I know it's not easy for her, I can't even imagine being in her shoes. But, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't. Maybe it would be easier for her to see the bigger picture if she heard it from you.”
“I was afraid this was going to happen when I agreed to the idea of you representing her.”
“Afraid of what?”
“You putting me in the middle.”
Dom hears Lisa sigh. “I'm sorry, Dom. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't ask this of you. You're right, you shouldn't be a go-between for me and another client, no matter who that client is. But this is a delicate situation. It's personal. You know her better than anyone. She might listen to you. I know you know I'm right about this.”
“Yeah... you are. I'm just not sure I can make a case any better than you can. But I'll try. I don't want this to get any worse.”
“I know it's difficult, and it will be difficult for her, but the longer she waits, the more her silence looks like some kind of admission, like she's trying to hide something.”
Dom rubs his hand over his face. Bree was not going to like hearing any of this. But Lisa was right.
“I said I'll talk to her.”
“Thank you. It doesn't have to be done today, or even this week. But the sooner, the better.”
“I got it.” Dom realizes immediately that he sounded testy. “Sorry, that was rude. It's just-”
“Don't worry about it, I get it. Take care, okay? Of her and yourself.”
Lisa ends the call before Dom can reply. He sets the phone down and finishes his coffee. He hates that Lisa is right about everything. The last thing he wants to do is start a conversation that will upset Bree, but he knows it has to be done. This can't be ignored forever, it won't go away. Dom gets up, deciding to wait til he brings Bree lunch upstairs to bring it up.
* * * * * {{ Bree }} * * * * *
I know the hospital in Cleveland, as well as my own doctor here at home, told me my ribs were only bruised, not broken... but that's not what it feels like. I've been in bed most of the time since we got home, other than showers and eating at the small side table we have in the bedroom. Even taking a deep breath is torture. But, I was told to do so once an hour, something about fluid and preventing pneumonia. I'm not allowed to do pretty much anything but eat, breathe, and pee for a week. I hate it. I'm an athlete, I feel like I'm turning into a sloth not being able to work out. Not that I have any intention of going against doctor's orders - I'm not stubborn and stupid like some frosty bitches who 'worked through' a rib injury to try to look badass. Fuck that, I won't put myself out there at less than my best and make a fool out of myself. I plan on recovering properly.
What that boils down to though, is I'm bored to death. I can only watch so much Netflix and HBOMax to distract myself from everything before losing my mind. So, I had an idea for something I could do, focus on, while sitting in bed waiting to be able to breathe normally, for the purple, green, and yellow bruising on my side to fade, and most importantly... be cleared for anything more physical than walking.
I am sitting cross-legged in bed, with my laptop in front of me, and a 3-ring binder next to it. I have several different websites open, and have made some notes in the binder. It's nearly lunchtime and I know Dom is downstairs putting something together to bring me to eat. I am reading an article when I hear the door open. I look, and Dom is carrying in a large tray. I watch him set it down on the side table. There are two plates, mine and his. It looks like some kind of grilled sandwich. Dom grins at me and waves his hand over the bed.
“What's all of this? You look like you're doing homework.”
“I kinda am. But, let's sit at the table and I can tell you all about it over lunch.”
I get up, slowly, wincing at the pain the movement causes. Dom starts to reach out to help me, but stops himself. I've already told him I want to do things myself if I can. I sit at the small table gently. Dom sits across from me, not bothering to take the plates and drinks off the tray. It's as big as the table top. I was right about the sandwich, it's roast beef with cheddar, grilled so the cheese is melted. We dig in and after a few bites, Dom gestures to my mess on the bed.
“So... the homework?”
I giggle. “Right. Well, as you know, the last few days of not being able to do anything has me bored out of my mind.”
“Oh really? I hadn't noticed...” He smirks. I grin.
“Please, as if I don't know I've complained incessantly. Anyway... as I was just laying there after I woke up, annoyed at just the idea of trying to find something to watch, I had a better idea. I don't have to move around to plan!”
“Plan what, exactly?”
“Oh... so you don't want to marry a bruised lady with no title?” I smirk.
“You've been planning the wedding?” Bless him for ignoring my title remark.
“Kinda. Yes.”
“Do I get a say in anything?” He smirks, making it clear he's joking.
“Of course! I mean, I can only do so much on my own. Most of what I have so far is just a bunch of ideas to throw at you. I never really had time before to think about this stuff, with the travel and working out and... everything. But now-”
“Now you have nothing else to do, so may as well?”
“Don't make it sound like it's not important...” I frown.
“That's not what I meant, not at all. I am a little surprised though. The last time we discussed it, you seemed to want to wait.”
“At the time I did. But I think maybe it's been long enough.”
“So what you're saying is, you want to pick a date?”
I smile. Big. “Yes. That's what I want. If you want to, of course.”
“You can't make any real plans without doing that first, right?”
“Not really, no.”
“Then let's do it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Anything that makes you happy, makes me happy. I'm just glad you're excited about something, after everything that's happened in the last week.”
That was a nice way of putting it. “I decided to do something different and focus on the good, rather than dwell on the bad like I usually do. Sure, most of the internet has now seen my tits, some little pervert thought he was funny with the pics, and someone else is temporarily carrying my title... but I have you. And we're getting married. And maybe once we set a date and confirm enough plans to announce it, the media can talk about that instead of my tits.”
Dom had been super pissed when I told him about the little shithead Caleb. He said it was a good thing he hadn't been there, because he would have kicked his ass and likely been in a jail cell next to him. Dom grins a little, but then sighs. “You know, you can't ignore that issue forever. Sure, a week or so to let the fire die down, but you have to say something at some point.”
“I know. I'm just not ready.”
Dom takes a deep breath before speaking. “Lisa thinks if you wait too long it'll look worse. I know you've avoided the internet the last week, but the articles are getting pretty close to the truth. They've already figured the shot came from that shoot. They're dragging up the old story, saying-”
“I know!” Dom sits back, startled by my yelling. I'm guessing Lisa put him up to this, she and I spoke yesterday and it didn't end well. “I'm sorry baby, but I know. Scott texted me an article earlier. That's why I can't say anything. Not yet. I don't know what to say. I lied about the shoot two years ago, so anything I say now will either be another lie, or admitting I did then. I don't like either option.”
“Saying nothing is an admission, according to Lisa. Which proves the lie from two years ago.” I lean on the table and cover my face with my hands. “I'm sorry, Bree. I know this is unimaginably difficult for you. We just want it to be less so.”
“I know, baby.” I look up. “And I love you for it. Lisa called me yesterday.” The day of the photo leak, Lisa, Dom's agent, had suggested I officially make her my agent too, so she could help me deal with this. I agreed and signed a contract. “She wants me to do a press conference. And I know I should. I just can't. Not yet. I'm injured, I'm not the World Champion anymore... I am not going in front of a dozen cameras at the weakest I've been in years, to talk about my half-naked body being exposed on the internet. It's too much, I can't handle it. I told Lisa that, and I thought she understood.”
“She does. But she also has a job to do. You know how good she is at her job. She got me out of more than one sticky situation. She only wants what's best for your brand.”
Ugh. Hollywood terminology. Dom is on hiatus and I'm not an actor. I roll my eyes. “Brand. I don't care about that right now. I care about this-” I rub my left side. “And this.” I wave my left hand in the air, flashing my ring. “I need to focus on getting better, and on something good before I can deal with all the bullshit.”
Dom smiles. “Okay. I will ask Lisa to back off for the moment. I'm sorry I brought it up, but she asked me to.”
“I figured. You don't have to be sorry. I just need you to understand why I can't do it yet.”
“And I do. Consider it back burner until you say otherwise.”
“Thanks, baby.” I smile back.
“Now. About this wedding....” He gestures to my mess on the bed again. I smile, grateful for the subject change.
“Yes. That. We need a date before we can confirm anything else.”
“Well... there is always a break in your schedule following Rise to Greatness.”
I nod. “I thought about that. But that's also usually when everyone takes vacations. If we want anyone to actually attend, we can't do it after Greatness.”
“Okay... what about right before? Then we take our post-Greatness trip too, only this time, it's a honeymoon. Or is that sooner than you were thinking?”
I grab my phone and open the calendar. “No, it's not. And SCW isn't running shows the week before pay per views anymore. We could do that. The weekend before.” I tap on a date and hand my phone to Dom.
“July seventeenth, then?” I nod. It's a Saturday, eight days before Rise to Greatness. Dom smiles.
“I think I can live with that date.” He hands me my phone back.
“That was easy.” I grin as I enter information onto that day in the calendar.
We have a wedding date.
We finish lunch and spend the afternoon in bed..... looking over wedding ideas, of course. I'm not quite well enough yet for what you probably thought I meant.
{{Monday, March 1
Kenner}}
It's just after lunch and I am sitting at the breakfast table near the kitchen. Yes, I made it downstairs. I had to, I had a check up with my doctor this morning. I am now allowed to do light exercise, which includes walking and swimming. Dom's heated pool idea turned out to be practical as well as fun, as my doctor told me warm water such as a bath or hot tub would help. The heat pump basically made my pool a giant hot tub. So... Dom and I have plans for this evening. But he isn't home at the moment, he went to a meeting with Lisa. It's not about me and the issue they want me to make a statement about, I don't think.... but the fact that Dom is inching closer to the end of the hiatus he took last year after we got engaged, so they are starting to negotiate a movie contract. I think it's for a sequel to Deep Cover, since it did so well. I guess I will find out when Dom gets home.
My plans today? I asked Wyatt to come visit. I had called him to tell him and Amy that Dom and I chose a date, and that I wanted to speak to them in person about a few things. But not together.... there was something very important to me that I wanted to talk to my brother about one on one. So, he agreed to come over after his morning appointment with one of his clients at the gym. I am sitting with a cup of tea, going over in my head what I want to say when suddenly Donatella races to the door, yipping, followed by a knock. I guess she heard the car door. I get up and open the door to my brother's grinning face.
“Hey big bro.”
“Hey yourself.”
Wyatt walks in and closes the door, then gives me a hug. Normally they are tight but he knows my ribs are hurt so he's gentle. I lead him to the table near the kitchen where I was sitting.
“Want something to drink? I have a few Cokes, tea, water.”
“No thanks.”
We sit and I put my tea mug aside, it's cold now and cold Earl Gray is nasty. “Thanks for coming, I know its not a short drive out here from home.”
“It's not that far.... besides, you usually come to us, it was time I came to you. Given you can't exactly drive at the moment.”
“That's the only reason, I'm sure.” I smirk.
“Yep, that's the reason.” He smirks back. “All joking aside, you said you wanted to speak to me about something in person, is everything okay?”
“Everything? No. But you already knew that.” Wyatt nods. “But it's not about any of the bullshit, it's about the wedding.”
“Oh. Good, I was a little concerned.”
“Don't be.” I smile. “Okay, so. Not that I want to refer to the past too much, but as you know, my last wedding.... left a lot to be desired. It was rushed, we went to the courthouse a little over a week after I agreed to it. You were there practically under duress, we weren't on good terms. Everything about it wasn't the way a wedding should have been.”
“As much as I'd like to forget most of that day, I remember.”
“So this time, I want do to everything right. Have a proper wedding. And for me, that means you being a part of it, not just a last minute arrival because I guilt tripped you.”
“I'm glad you can acknowledge that's what happened.”
I shrug. “I know myself.” We both grin. “Anyway, what that means is.... with Mom and Dad and Heath gone, I'd like for you to walk me down the aisle.”
Wyatt smiles, then smirks, sarcasm incoming. “What, no miss independent walking by herself?”
“Nope. It's my wedding, not a wrestling entrance.” I smirk back. I mean, Scott walks out with me, but behind me so I'm still by myself. Technically. Anyway. “Like I said, I want to do this right. And I need you for that.”
“Bree...” Wyatt leans on the table, a soft smile on his face. “I would be honored to walk with you.”
“You will? Oh thank you!” I get up and go around and hug him, hurting myself a little but I didn't care. He pats my back a bit, then I sit back down, next to him rather than across the table.
“Did you really think I would say no?”
“I don't know.... with how bad things got between us all a while back, sometimes I'm not sure how you or Amy will react to things.”
Wyatt chuckles a bit. “It's true, we've been through a lot since that day at the courthouse, haven't we? Even before that.”
“We have. One of the things I am most thankful for is that we found a way to get everyone back together. I don't know what I would do without you guys, I really don't. Especially now...”
“I'm glad we did, too. I know it was bad for a long time, my own stubbornness played a role... but somehow I always knew we'd find our way back.”
“You did?”
“Well... there might have been a short time when I thought it was hopeless. Very short.” He smirks again.
“That sounds more like it... I mean you did tell me once that I wasn't your sister anymore.”
Wyatt cringes. “Yeah... can we forget that happened?”
“Done.” We both smile.
“Now, I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“The guest list.” I raise my brow, I'm not sure what he's getting at. “To be blunt, what about Dom's family?”
“Oh. You mean are we inviting his brothers?” Wyatt nods. “Honestly? We're not sure yet. Well, Jason likely will be just because of Amy. It's really David that Dom isn't sure about.”
“That's why I was asking. I know there's been a lot of tension there.”
“That's a nice way of putting it. Personally I think we should just so he can't say we snubbed him, but Dom isn't sure if he wants him there. I left it up to him.”
“That sounds reasonable. The last thing you want is a lot of awkwardness on your wedding day.”
“Oh we'll have that regardless... I am inviting Andrew.”
Wyatt's face tenses up, but he forces it away pretty quick. “Of course you are.”
“I am going to ask you and Amy the same thing I will ask him. All three of you mean a lot to me and I want you all there. Please be civil?”
“I will be as civil as he is, how's that?”
Andrew and Wyatt never liked each other, going back to when Amy and Andrew were together. I know it's risky having them in the same place, especially after the way things went when I tried to get Amy and Andrew to settle things and they ended up in a screaming match.... but I want my favorite people there, dammit.
“I'll take it. In fact, I will even do you a favor in exchange. Um... wow, I really should probably already know this, but are you and Mikaela still.... you know?”
“Seeing each other?” He seems amused at the fact I wouldn't say it.
“Yes, that.” Wyatt nods. “Okay. Well, if you'd like her to attend too, you can invite her. We'll call it a plus-one.”
“Alright... we'll play that by ear. It's not really a well known thing.”
“That's fair. I just wanted to make the offer.”
“Appreciated.”
There is a slightly awkward silence, at least it was awkward to me. There was a time when speaking about the unconventional relationship Wyatt and Amy have would have sent me into hysterics or made me nauseated. I've long since accepted it but thinking about it is still not my favorite thing. Wyatt clears his throat and speaks quietly.
“So, how have you been handling things?”
“My ribs are starting to feel a little better finally. I can lean over to put my shoes on.” I said that with the air of an accomplishment.
“That's good news. But I was more talking about the... internet stuff?”
My eyes go wide. I hadn't even considered this... “Oh my God, did you see it?!”
“No. But Amy did, she told me about it.”
“Thank God....” I cover my face with my hands. I barely handled Reece walking into my backyard while Dom and I were nude and, um... well, having sex, in my pool, and he saw my chest. Imagine if my brother saw.... ugh. UGH. Thank God.
“Not going well then?”
“No...” I look up and quickly tell him about the pervert at Breakdown.
“Christ. I'm sorry you had to deal with that.”
“So, as you can probably guess, I am not handling this well at all. Lisa wants me to-”
“Wait, who's Lisa?”
“Oh. Lisa Kagan, Dom's agent. Well, and mine too, now. I signed with her the day the photo went up. Anyway, she wants me to do some kind of press conference or statement... but I can't. The thought of it makes me ill.”
“What does she think that will accomplish?”
“I'm not even sure. She says keeping quiet makes it look like I did something wrong. But I didn't! I didn't even know that picture was taken! But.... I guess I did do something wrong, cause I know when it was taken... and I lied about it.”
Wyatt knew everything about the photo shoot, I had told him the truth not long after Dior fired me.
“That shoot?” I nod. “Christ's sake, Bree.”
“Right? I think everyone thinks I'm upset about the fact half the world has seen my breasts now, since it's well known I never wanted to do nude photos, but that's not the worst part. It just makes me remember everything about that shoot, and Crane, and how he creeped me out and threatened me... I don't want to remember all of that, I certainly don't want to talk about it like Lisa and even Dom thinks I should do... I want to forget any of it ever happened.” I cover my face again.
“I don't want to sound crass or unfeeling, but... I don't think that's really an option at this point.”
“I know. I hate it.”
“Seems like your injury is a blessing in disguise, you have an excuse to stay out of the media. You're not traveling, the reporters can't hound you. But that's not gonna last forever.”
I pull my hands down again, frowning. “Don't you think I know that? But I can take advantage of it while I can, right? Use this recovery time to figure out what exactly I'm going to say, when I decide to say something. I know I'm gonna have to eventually, I just don't want to be pushed into it. Everything about this has been either me being manipulated into things, or things being done to me against my will. I have to control something, you know?”
Wyatt nods. “I get it. You know what's best for you, don't let anyone push you into something you're not comfortable with. Not even Dom.”
“I won't. And he won't push. I'm just so tired of talking about this. I've done my best to try to not let it bother me, because it's done, you know? I can't do anything about it. But it's just.... ever-present.”
Wyatt sighs, shaking his head. “I'm sorry I asked, I didn't know you were that upset about it.”
“You're fine, you're my brother. You can always ask me anything. I just... want to focus on something positive. I'm planning a wedding, for God's sake.”
“And that's what you should keep your attention on. Then when you're ready.... you can do what this Lisa woman wants. She's an agent, remember she works for you, not the other way around.”
I grin. “I know. She tells Dom that all the time. I love how you always have my back.”
“Always.”
“This is why I need you to walk me down the aisle, one person who will always be there handing me over to the other person who will do the same.” I smile. Great, I made myself teary.
“He'd better, if he knows what's good for him.” Wyatt keeps a stern look on his face for roughly three seconds before laughing.
Wyatt and I spent another two hours together, catching up on other things. The photo topic didn't come up again and I was glad for that. Maybe if I had a week or two, or even three, of not having to discuss or deal with it at all, I might then be ready to make a public statement. I might figure out by then what exactly I want to, or should say. I just can't right now. Everything is wrong except for wedding planning, and I am going to throw myself into that.
I have to, if I'm going to stay sane.
ON CAMERA
I have to say, it feels good to be doing this again.
We find Bree Lancaster standing in front of the sliding door of a hotel room balcony, her arms spread wide. Dressed in black skinny jeans and a gray SCW t-shirt bearing the writing “You're welcome – Bree Lancaster” in pink script, Bree smiles happily. She then looks down at herself, and sets her hands on her hips as we see the smile fade.
I admit, I would be a lot happier to be making this video if I still had my World Championship around my waist, but other than that, I'm glad to do it. I have a lot to say.
Firstly, I want to take a moment to complain. Shocker, I know. But I think everyone will agree that I am justified this time. I have been cleared to return to the ring following my rib injury for three weeks. Breakdown appeared in my hometown, in New Orleans... and I was not booked to compete. Two more Breakdown's came and went... all kinds of chaos happened. Owen Cruze joined forces with a madman. Mr. D returned and sent Sasha home, punished like a school girl. Josh Hudson and Pat Evans are now Mr. D's puppets, which is something I never thought I would say about a man like Josh. And of course we have Asher Hayes mouthing off about being the World Champion when, in fact, he is not. No, his tag partner Cid Turner is, thanks to some shenanigans that screwed Chris Cannon out of it.
And that brings us to this week, where finally, three weeks after I was cleared, three weeks after I should have been back in the ring, showing everyone that I am fully recovered and I have not lost even a half step... now, I am booked. I will step into the ring with none other than Mr. Mouth himself, Asher Hayes.
Bree gives her trademark finger-wiggle wave, with a smirk.
Asher. Hi babe. It seems you and I just can't get away from each other, doesn't it? Two matches during the Tag League. Draw during the round robin portion, and then you and Cid beat myself and Andrew Raynes in the semi-finals. I said then and I'll say it now, I'm not upset about that. Circumstances beyond my control forced me to find a partner to replace Sienna after she was injured and your well-oiled team handled mine that hadn't worked together in years. But let me remind you of something, in case you happened to forget, Asher. That semi-final match wasn't decided between you and me. No, Cid rolled up Andrew to get the win. So your team might have beaten mine, but you didn't beat me.
It's been a long time since we've had the chance to do this one on one. And I have to tell you babe, a lot of things have changed since the last time we've done this. First of all, don't think that I don't know about some of your... extracurricular activities. I won't go into more detail than that, but just know that I know. You can sweat over what I might decide to do with that information. But more importantly, you've changed. You used to just be mildly annoying. Hypersexual, flirting with anything with boobs and a pulse... a male version of Kandis, back before she got all serious. But now?
Bree takes a moment to laugh, shaking her head.
Now... you seem to have completely lost your goddamn mind! I don't know what's gotten into you babe... too many hits to the head, jealously over the fact Cid has gotten more attention and accolades than you while you've been teaming, or God only knows what. But this farce you have of coming out carrying the World Championship, when you are not the champion?
Its absolutely disgusting!
Bree glares, angry at the audacity.
There is a lineage, there is history, there is honor in being on the long list of those who have been World Champion here in SCW. Some of us are lucky enough to be listed more than once. We've fought every challenger, beaten odds, shut up doubters, made haters eat their words... by going to that ring, facing a champion, and beating them for the right to call themselves a champion.
Asher.... you haven't done that.
Your name is nowhere on that list of SCW stars who have gone all the way, fought their way to the top of the mountain here and earned the distinction of World Champion. Yet here you are, ever since Retribution, acting as if you have. Not letting the actual Champion speak. Carrying a title belt that does not belong to you.
If you ask me, it doesn't even belong to Cid, not really. He didn't beat Chris Cannon fairly. He literally stumbled into it, after Chris was knocked down by someone who didn't belong out there.... oh, right. Your new ally, floozy, bitch, whatever you want to call her. But, that is a matter for Chris to deal with, not me. All I am concerned with is the fact that you, Asher, are making claims to something that is not yours. After everything that I went through to reach the top. To claim that championship for myself.
Years of being held down or screwed out of my opportunities. Fighting my way through almost this entire roster first as United States Champion, then as World Champion. I even held both at the same time! I worked my cute little ass off for this company and for that championship, and the first thing that happens after it's taken from me due to my injury is... it gets desecrated by changing hands due to what can only be called a screwjob, and now it's being disrespected by you!
Bree sets her hands on her hips again, glaring even harder as the shot closes in on her angry face.
Listen to me very closely, Asher. You and I have traded barbs in the past, maybe even shared a joke or two, but I am not joking right now. The World Championship is not yours. It's barely Cid's. It's not something to be toyed with or treated as a prop to build up egos.
It's everything I have worked for in this company, and I will be damned if I will allow you to continue strutting around here acting as if it belongs to you! You've done nothing... nothing to call yourself a World Champion. I've heard people whispering backstage about how Cid is only in the position he's in because he attached himself to you, forming this team. But the way I see it is... you are the one taking advantage of your partnership, not him. Who got most of the pinfalls in the Tag League for your team?
Not you.
Who was in the right place at the right time when Chris was screwed and became World Champion?
Not you.
You couldn't even accidentally win the title babe, let alone on purpose.
And at Breakdown tomorrow night, I am going to do everything in my power to prove that all of this boasting, all of this parading around, is nothing but a farce and that you don't belong anywhere near that World Championship. Don't get me wrong, I know you're good. I know you have experience behind you and many other titles and accomplishments to your name. I will even admit that if you got serious, if you really set your mind to it, you probably could become World Champion.
But that's a big if.
You've been around a long time, babe. You've had many opportunities to prove that you deserve it, that you're good enough. And maybe you are. But you also let yourself get too distracted to ever fully focus on reaching the top. Either by women, or drugs, or both... yes, I know the stories. I know you've kicked the drug habit, so I will give you credit for that. But you haven't seemed to find that focus. That drive, that unstoppable attitude that is necessary to be able to push everyone in front of you out of your way to get what you want.
Bree shakes her head, almost in sympathy.
It's actually sad what you've turned yourself into. Everyone knows that you want to become World Champion. You've talked about it, you've had your sight set on it for a while now. Yet when you couldn't do it at Retribution, when you watched your partner stumble into it instead, it's like your brain just broke. Rather than try harder, sharpen your focus....
….you decided pretending was the best you were going to get.
In case you haven't noticed, I don't like pretenders. David Helms was a pretender, acting as if he was still World Champion after he gave it up when he was injured. Thing is though, at least he had the backing of SCW, they are the ones who claimed he was still the champion and I was just Interim – until I beat him, that is. But you? You're just pretending because you can't handle the fact that your partner, your best friend accomplished something in a few months, after being away for what, a decade? That you have never done in your entire career!
I understand being upset and even jealous, but what I will not stand for is the way you are making a mockery of the World Championship.
You are not a World Champion!
I am!
And I am going to prove it when the bell rings. You may be good, you may even be champion for real one day. But you're not better than me, not right now. I am going to end this fantasy of yours by showing you and everyone else what a real champion looks like.
Not a pretend champion.
Not an accidental champion.
A true World Champion.
The sooner everyone realizes this, the sooner we can get past Be Careful What You Wish For, and the sooner I will be given the rematch I am owed, where I will reclaim what was taken from me when I was injured. Everything in SCW will be right again. There will be no more farce, no more pretenders, no more disrespect or mockery.
Only truth in victory, and a champion SCW can count on. It all starts with you, Asher. You should be thanking me for the opportunity to be a part of my return to my place.
Bree smirks again, smug as smug can be. You know you missed that face.
You're welcome.