Post by Mary-Jane Braxton on Nov 18, 2016 4:05:08 GMT -5
“You have to learn how to trust the person you're working with.”
A pair of hands were firmly pressing against knees, as she was leaning over. Sweat dribbled down from her forehead and rolled down to the bridge of her nose before she raised the back of her hand to swipe the disturbing moisture away.
“I work better alone.”
“We know you’ve made that clear.”
“Crystal?”
“Crystal fucking clear.”
The gym was an unusual brand of “hot as hell” today. The trainees of Early Brewster’s pro wrestling school were usually drenched in sweat during the day’s work. However, today it seemed as if every had been drowning in themselves.
“Can I take a five please?”
“You think you've worked hard enough for a break?”
“Drink some water…”
The graying man clicked on a stopwatch that hung loosely from his spotted neck via a black lanyard. His eyes scanned the room. His vision had taken a particular interest in the two girls in the center of his ring. One stood tall, while the other looked as if she was ready to puke out everything she had.
“Braxton, catch a break with her too…”
“Don’t need it.”
“Didn’t ask either… five minutes.”
The blonde gave a slight shrug at the order and stepped between the ropes and outside of the ring. Her towel was waiting on a pine bench not to far from where Early was taking his seat. She sat next to the old man without so much as a look in his direction. Instead she grabbed the towel and draped it over her head. She took a few seconds to tuck the ends into her shirt, giving the towel essentially the same function as the hoodie on a jacket.
"You're really pushing my shit today.", Early said with a gruff tone. He'd pull his hands up to stroke his salt-and-pepper goatee as he too refused to give the young woman the benefit of any eye contact.
"You're going to easy on her."
"She's not you Brax."
"Shame."
She pulled the towel further over her head as a few loose tufts of sweat-matted blonde hairs began to peek out from underneath the cloth. "You're going to easy on her."
"She's new."
"It's been two weeks, she's not gonna make it."
Early exhaled a small sigh. He dropped his hands back to resting over his legs as he continued to slouch on the bench. A true professional wrestling savant, Early had trained the best of the best. Mary-Jane Braxton was no different. She was a young woman who was determined to emerge from this camp as the heads-over-shoulders best crop in this new batch.
"And you've been doing this for how long? Almost a year and some change and you feelin' yourself now?"
"Just being honest. Can't get mad at me that she can't capitalize..." Mary-Jane said as her head lifted to get a view of the woman she'd partnered with for this exercise. Samantha... something, but she liked to be called Sammy. Honestly, to Braxton she wasn't important enough to remember. She had her pegged from day one as a chick who probably saw some cute model pretending to be a wrestler on television. Some dumbs that thought maybe it'd be a good way to launch her acting career or something...
Regardless, Early didn't like what he heard. "SHE CAN'T CAPITALIZE?!?"
"Calm down she's gonna hear you and know I said something..."
Not one bit.
"Nah, that's not how we run shit in my gym.", Braxton remained silent looking to the side and away from her seething instructor. Early was an old guy, but his body was still tough as nails. He had that look like he could still beat the breaks off of any young punk who thought they we a little to big for their pants... She knew he'd make a scene... Guy was a thirty year vet in the industry... He had a taste for the theatrical.
"How many world championships do you have under your belt Brax?"
"..."
"Fucking answer me when I'm talking to you or you can walk out of my gym right now..."
"None."
"Speak up!"
"None!"
She looked at him with annoyed eyes. Around now, rest time had been concluded. Everyone was now awkwardly trying to pretend like they weren't interested in the animated discussion between Brax and Early. Sammy was off by the water fountain Red-faced and trying to fill her thermos with water....
"Talented but don't know how to even use it yet. You've had like five pro matches and you're still here with the rest of us... As far as I'm concerned you aint any better than anyone here until you go out and you prove something. You understand me? Who the hell are you to judge someone's future? Who the fuck are you to say that Sammy can't make it? What the fuck have you done that's so special?"
It was probably the most embarrassing moment of her career at the time. Because, Mary-Jane could only open her mouth...
And softly whisper...
"Nothing."
The camera opens cold to the visage of Mary-Jane Braxton. Her eyes are closed tight as the camera slowly pans away from the framing of her face.
Little by little the rest of her upper body is featured within the shot. And with cold words and a steel tone she speaks the words of wisdom resonating within her heart...
"Know yourself know your worth."
Her eyes are stone in appearance. A rough jagged glare meets the camera as she slowly opens her eyelids and continues with her inspired tone.
"Melissa Reaver... you underestimate. I don't think you've taken the time to open your eyes and thank me for my greatness. You see I have my name on the tip of the industries tongue, and how long did it really take me? A week? Maybe two? The fact is that simply I am... without a shadow of a doubt, the best professional wrestler on planet Earth. There's no insult alive conspired and built against me that can refute this fact. From day one I walked into pro wrestling with the biggest chip on my shoulder. It gets bigger every time someone like you makes the mistake of looking past me.
I antagonize and antagonize because I'm waiting for someone to put me in my place. I'm waiting for someone to slap me the fuck down and tell me that I'm not good enough. I'm waiting for someone who bust their ass more than me, takes the punches better than me, and keeps on rolling better than me. But I can't. I can't find a single soul in this god created universe that has the same passion as me. This is my curse. You see Mel, I have what is called an obsessive personality. I see something and my eyes lock in on it, and nothing else in the background matters. I've locked in on you, and I've locked in on this moment of clarity I get to share with you. You see for the longest I looked across brands at you when we were both in Honor Wrestling... I though t you were the one. I thought you were the one that was going to stand out and prove to me that I still have catching up to do...
But you disappointed me.
Mel I am going into Face Off and without a shadow of a doubt I'm going to beat the shit outta you. I'm going to kick you like you've never been kicked before. I'm going to punch you like you've never been punched before... Shout out to the ref, cause I'll fucking bite you like you've never been bitten before..." A shit-eating smug briefly flashes upon her lips as she says faintly, "Take notes Chris...."
Her curt expression reappears on her mug as she continues to deliberate the "line"
"You see Mel I'm gonna blow your mind, and no dummy none of it will be accident. This is all according to my design. Your mind is in the wrong place and that's the crucial element of this match you don't understand. Your mind is so wrapped up in the twitter portrayal of myself that you fail to realize the threat I am inside the ring. You're taking this match personally and that's your mistake. This match for me... business as usual. You see I don't give a shit about the qualms you have against me. I don't care that you take offense to who I fuck, who I wanna fuck, and who I have fucked. I don't care if you think I'm some manic, conniving, backstabbing bitch... At the end of the day I'm Mary-Jane Braxton... A professional wrestler who by far exceeds the potential and limitations of weak-minded and unfocused individuals such as yourself.
At the end of the day I'm Mary-Jane Braxton...
I'm the one who didn't break a sweat in Legacy Wrestling...
I'm the greatest woman to lace up a pair of boots...
I'm Miss Money's Worth...
You see this line right here... This line in Code Red Wrestling. Live and in effect in my stomping yards in New York City. This is the most prestigious and the most important match in my entire life.
I get the chance to prove why.. I... Am the best... in the world.
I've been the best since day one when I first stepping into a wrestling ring in Scott County, Kentucky as a wide eyed seventeen year old brat who was so fucking nervous she threw up behind the curtain as soon as her music hit the shitty sound system at Rowen's bingo hall... And I became the best as simply me, Mary-Jane Braxton. What you see is what you get. I've never tried to be anyone else out there because I knew from day one I had what it took...
This match may not be for a title, but it damn sure is for a prize... respect. And that prize of respect should rest on the shoulders and adorn the best in the world... It will, and until I hang up my boots for the last rodeo it will STAY there.
Mel...
Honestly, I do like you. I like you a hella lot more than I like most people in the industry.
But...
I hate. This idea... That you're better than me... Because you're not. NO ONE... and I mean no one is better than me. Even still who would have thought, that two women such as ourself would eventually be standing face to face together in a Code Red Wrestling ring, as two of the most highly touted professional wrestlers in the industry at this very moment?
I did... I've been envisioning this moment the first night I worked the back at a Honor show, and I saw you win that Iron Maidens championship.. I've been waiting for this moment for a while Melissa... But your recent sentiments toward me have created a problem Melissa...
You think you can come out whenever you want, crash my party whenever you feel like, and drop me jewels that say I'm not even as good as Ally Morrow? You devalue the entire six years of blood, the six years of sweat, the six years of tears, the six years of trying to scrape together enough money to get me to the next bingo hall so I can wrestle my ass off for fifty bucks and a bus voucher, you think you can dictate to me who I'm inferior too... Yeah we've got a huge fucking problem.
You see I could not live with myself If I allowed people like you to walk all over me. I couldn't live with myself if I sat back and allowed people like you to tell me who's better than me... to tell me what my worth is.
Know yourself, know your worth.
I say what's on my mind. I speak the truth and I stand up for myself and my accomplishments.
But I guess that makes me the bad guy right? I guess that gives me the black hat. I become in your eyes the chick who doesn't have a filter between her mouth, her brain, and her heart... You see Melissa... Alls I ever wanted to do was be an agent of fun. I wanted to make pro wrestling feel alive again. All the people who eat, sleep, breathe wrestling... All I ever wanted to do was give those people something to invest in...
Someone to believe in.
But hey, you can't get other people to believe in you when you can't even believe in yourself right? That's the reason I speak in absolutes... I believe I am without a doubt the best in Code Red, and the best in pro wrestling period. I believe that when that bell rings, that I will give you the worst beating of your entire career. I believe that I am better than you in all accounts inside that ring. I believe that I will beat you Melissa...
So if you never trust a single word I say... I want you to go back, listen to this over and over again... Look at my face really good ok... See the seriousness in my eyes...
And believe in this..."
Little by little the rest of her upper body is featured within the shot. And with cold words and a steel tone she speaks the words of wisdom resonating within her heart...
"Know yourself know your worth."
Her eyes are stone in appearance. A rough jagged glare meets the camera as she slowly opens her eyelids and continues with her inspired tone.
"Melissa Reaver... you underestimate. I don't think you've taken the time to open your eyes and thank me for my greatness. You see I have my name on the tip of the industries tongue, and how long did it really take me? A week? Maybe two? The fact is that simply I am... without a shadow of a doubt, the best professional wrestler on planet Earth. There's no insult alive conspired and built against me that can refute this fact. From day one I walked into pro wrestling with the biggest chip on my shoulder. It gets bigger every time someone like you makes the mistake of looking past me.
I antagonize and antagonize because I'm waiting for someone to put me in my place. I'm waiting for someone to slap me the fuck down and tell me that I'm not good enough. I'm waiting for someone who bust their ass more than me, takes the punches better than me, and keeps on rolling better than me. But I can't. I can't find a single soul in this god created universe that has the same passion as me. This is my curse. You see Mel, I have what is called an obsessive personality. I see something and my eyes lock in on it, and nothing else in the background matters. I've locked in on you, and I've locked in on this moment of clarity I get to share with you. You see for the longest I looked across brands at you when we were both in Honor Wrestling... I though t you were the one. I thought you were the one that was going to stand out and prove to me that I still have catching up to do...
But you disappointed me.
Mel I am going into Face Off and without a shadow of a doubt I'm going to beat the shit outta you. I'm going to kick you like you've never been kicked before. I'm going to punch you like you've never been punched before... Shout out to the ref, cause I'll fucking bite you like you've never been bitten before..." A shit-eating smug briefly flashes upon her lips as she says faintly, "Take notes Chris...."
Her curt expression reappears on her mug as she continues to deliberate the "line"
"You see Mel I'm gonna blow your mind, and no dummy none of it will be accident. This is all according to my design. Your mind is in the wrong place and that's the crucial element of this match you don't understand. Your mind is so wrapped up in the twitter portrayal of myself that you fail to realize the threat I am inside the ring. You're taking this match personally and that's your mistake. This match for me... business as usual. You see I don't give a shit about the qualms you have against me. I don't care that you take offense to who I fuck, who I wanna fuck, and who I have fucked. I don't care if you think I'm some manic, conniving, backstabbing bitch... At the end of the day I'm Mary-Jane Braxton... A professional wrestler who by far exceeds the potential and limitations of weak-minded and unfocused individuals such as yourself.
At the end of the day I'm Mary-Jane Braxton...
I'm the one who didn't break a sweat in Legacy Wrestling...
I'm the greatest woman to lace up a pair of boots...
I'm Miss Money's Worth...
You see this line right here... This line in Code Red Wrestling. Live and in effect in my stomping yards in New York City. This is the most prestigious and the most important match in my entire life.
I get the chance to prove why.. I... Am the best... in the world.
I've been the best since day one when I first stepping into a wrestling ring in Scott County, Kentucky as a wide eyed seventeen year old brat who was so fucking nervous she threw up behind the curtain as soon as her music hit the shitty sound system at Rowen's bingo hall... And I became the best as simply me, Mary-Jane Braxton. What you see is what you get. I've never tried to be anyone else out there because I knew from day one I had what it took...
This match may not be for a title, but it damn sure is for a prize... respect. And that prize of respect should rest on the shoulders and adorn the best in the world... It will, and until I hang up my boots for the last rodeo it will STAY there.
Mel...
Honestly, I do like you. I like you a hella lot more than I like most people in the industry.
But...
I hate. This idea... That you're better than me... Because you're not. NO ONE... and I mean no one is better than me. Even still who would have thought, that two women such as ourself would eventually be standing face to face together in a Code Red Wrestling ring, as two of the most highly touted professional wrestlers in the industry at this very moment?
I did... I've been envisioning this moment the first night I worked the back at a Honor show, and I saw you win that Iron Maidens championship.. I've been waiting for this moment for a while Melissa... But your recent sentiments toward me have created a problem Melissa...
You think you can come out whenever you want, crash my party whenever you feel like, and drop me jewels that say I'm not even as good as Ally Morrow? You devalue the entire six years of blood, the six years of sweat, the six years of tears, the six years of trying to scrape together enough money to get me to the next bingo hall so I can wrestle my ass off for fifty bucks and a bus voucher, you think you can dictate to me who I'm inferior too... Yeah we've got a huge fucking problem.
You see I could not live with myself If I allowed people like you to walk all over me. I couldn't live with myself if I sat back and allowed people like you to tell me who's better than me... to tell me what my worth is.
Know yourself, know your worth.
I say what's on my mind. I speak the truth and I stand up for myself and my accomplishments.
But I guess that makes me the bad guy right? I guess that gives me the black hat. I become in your eyes the chick who doesn't have a filter between her mouth, her brain, and her heart... You see Melissa... Alls I ever wanted to do was be an agent of fun. I wanted to make pro wrestling feel alive again. All the people who eat, sleep, breathe wrestling... All I ever wanted to do was give those people something to invest in...
Someone to believe in.
But hey, you can't get other people to believe in you when you can't even believe in yourself right? That's the reason I speak in absolutes... I believe I am without a doubt the best in Code Red, and the best in pro wrestling period. I believe that when that bell rings, that I will give you the worst beating of your entire career. I believe that I am better than you in all accounts inside that ring. I believe that I will beat you Melissa...
So if you never trust a single word I say... I want you to go back, listen to this over and over again... Look at my face really good ok... See the seriousness in my eyes...
And believe in this..."