ALL THIS HAS HAPPENED BEFORE.
----
I sat alone in a trainer's room backstage. I had undergone the usual check over after a match, with special attention given as a result of how much I'd wrestled. I ached now, and knew I wasn't feeling half of it yet. The trainer had given me the okay, telling me I was fine to leave whenever I wanted. But I was waiting. Waiting for the moment I knew was coming.
The knock came much as I expected it, three strong raps, forceful, insisting. She wasn't asking, she was telling.
I remembered a different room, in a different time, on a night absolutely nothing like this. I was at the bottom, I had lost King for a Day. I had nothing and I didn't want to be loved. I turned her away then. Now, I was on top of the world. I had everything. I was the winner of the Lethal Lottery. I was the winner of the Lethal Lottery, I repeated to myself, nearly giddy. What had all this been about, in the end? It was about becoming world champion, and damn anyone else if they got in my way. I had punched a ticket to Kingdom Come with the world title on the line. I had everything now I didn't have then.
So why did I still feel like turning her away?
The knock came again, harder, more forceful. She knew I was here.
"Drake," she called, her voice level, disciplined. It was nothing like the voice from a hundred years ago, when she had barely held back her sobs, fighting off tears. There was no comfort in this voice, no reassurance. Not this time. Why should there be? I didn't need it.
I said nothing, still. Just as I had last time.
She knocked again.
"I know you're in there," she said, this time anger creeping in instead of sadness, rage held down instead of sobs.
Why didn't I say anything? What reason had I to turn her away? I wasn't ashamed of what I'd done to her. I refused to let her shame me. I refused to let anyone shame me. And yet I sat paralyzed.
She slammed her hand against the door, as if she would break it down.
"God damn it Drake, let me in!" she screamed.
I shook my head and felt like I stepped out of a fog. I got up and limped to the door, opening it.
She stepped in, as composed as could be, as if she hadn't just been screaming at me. She wore a turtleneck sweater. Hiding bruises, I was sure. She stared at me with her dark eyes as I sat back down.
"You won," she observed needlessly.
"Twice," I reminded her, not resisting the grin that came to my face.
"Your personal vendetta against El Califa has been a distraction. We're more pleased that you won the Lethal Lottery. It's about time you were back in contention."
"We're pleased?" I asked.
"The company. The agency. The people who make a living off your successes and failures."
That's how she wants to play this, then? Rigidly stubborn, I knew she'd never leave me as my agent, but the message was clear enough.
"I'm sorry my vendetta against the man who cost me everything was so unwelcome to you - "
"Save it. You were right, I was wrong. It's done, over."
"How can you say that? You know as well as I do that Ty is going to be at Meltdown. This fight is far from over."
"I don't know anything of the sort, Drake. I don't know anything about a contract for Ty. The only reasonable way to treat this was as a one time deal, probably to mess with your head. What I do know is that you have a chance to win the world title at Kingdom Come, and Ty isn't involved in that match. You would do well to shift your focus appropriately."
She made sense, and I wasn't as stone stubborn as she was. I had won the war. Not only did I beat Ty one on one, I won the Lethal Lottery despite all his machinations. He'd played his trump card and appeared in the flesh, and I still won. It didn't matter if he returned to the shadows now - I had the upper hand and I intended to keep it. Continuing to lose myself inside my own head worrying about Ty was exactly what he'd want me to. I had fought the war long enough to know the signs. He wasn't going to get me again.
Not that I wasn't still sure I had enemies behind the scenes, lurking in every corner. Holmes had proven he had an endless supply of allies ready to step out and fight for him, with his brother and now the woman, Celeste. There were no doubt more, and he had to be ready for them. And he had other enemies too. There was no lack of danger in the shadows from this point forward.
"You're right," I said, shrugging. That seemed to give her pause. No doubt she was looking for a fight. She started to say something else, but I raised a hand and cut her off.
"Stoya, I'd love to continue talking business, but if I stay in this chair much longer I'm not going to be able to get up. Can we get back to the hotel room and go to sleep?"
"I'm leaving tonight. Max is so excited that he wants to have a personal meeting about you and our plans. I tried to tell him we ought to just have a video conference, but he won't hear of it. I left a folder with all your travel arrangements in the room. I'll catch up with you in St. Paul."
I nodded. It was for the best, to have a few days apart. He wouldn't be surprised to learn Stoya had manipulated Max into the one on one meeting.
She turned to the door, but stopped halfway and turned back, walking toward him to stand over him. I looked up.
"One more thing," she said. She leaned down and kissed me, all the better for it being so unexpected. I barely had time to react before she broke off. She leaned back and met my eyes.
"Whatever you think, I am not her. Do you hear me? I am not her."
She turned on her heel and stalked out, leaving me to think that over. I wanted to laugh.
But you are, don't you see? She was exactly the same. Too close, too fond of control. It had ended once before. It wouldn't be long before it ended the same way again.
-----
A few days later, I was in a gym in St. Paul. The facility catered to all sorts, but mostly boxers, wrestlers, and mixed martial artists. I had been restless waiting out the delay in receiving word on what my match was going to be, but the agency had negotiated my way out of house shows, so I had nothing better to do than look for a fight here. Fortunately, there was no lack of sparring partners. I had just finished a boxing match with a hard shot to the gut that had doubled over my partner. He was still clenching his gut. He had been too easy. I smirked, not quite looking at him, and raised the challenge. "Anyone else?"
Maybe they had been scared off by that hard shot, but I didn't spar for fun. I was sparring to get better and work off energy, and pulling punches didn't get me there. Still, no one met my eye and I felt like I was going to go home disappointed.
"I'm in," called out a woman's voice. I recognized it...
Stoya strode across the room, looking completely different than the last time I'd seen her. Looking completely different from any time I'd ever seen her, frankly. Wearing compression shorts and a sports bra, with her hair tied back...I knew she'd worked out, of course, but I had no idea she fought.
The people in the room gave some strange looks to both of us, but no one said anything. If a man and a woman wanted to spar, it was no one's business but theirs.
I watched her walk across the room and step into the ring, tightening her gloves. She smirked at me as I stared at her.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, finally, in a low voice for no one but her.
"I come to these sorts of places more than you do. You never work out with me. Maybe it's time you learned something about me."
She took a few steps closer as I ground my teeth.
"I can't do this," I said.
"Too scared to hit me in broad daylight?"
I locked eyes with her. She was smirking still, but her eyes were icy cold.
"What the hell are you trying to prove?"
"You know exactly what I'm trying to prove. Now fight me or get out."
I growled and circled around her. She tried a few jabs, testing. I dodged them with as little effort as was necessary, then slid in fast and aimed a shot at her head. She stepped back lightning fast and anticipated my reach, timed it, and caught me in the sides. I grunted and stepped back. She wasn't pulling punches either. With no hesitation she started to circle again. I treated her more cautiously this time, letting her make the first move. She tried the same move I had, stepping in for a shot at my body and I sidestepped, came at her head, but she stepped just beyond my reach and backed away. I expected her to back away and circle, but she caught me flatfooted, charging in and landing a hard shot to my gut. Then she backed off, waiting for me to straighten out. I did so with a grimace. We circled each other one more time, me throwing a jab here and there, her stepping away from it every time. She was faster than me, plain and simple, and she was clearly experienced. But I was stronger, and I had to take advantage of that quickly. I feigned a shot to her body and she fell for it, blocking low, then brought my left around for a blow to her head. She saw it coming just in time, though, and ducked right under it, popping up with an uppercut that caught my completely open and ended with me flat on my back. I looked up at the lights, trying to work my jaw, until I felt her weight on chest, kneeling on top of me. She was above me, blocking out the lights as she leaned in and kissed me. The smirk had returned to her face.
"Let me say it again, Drake. I am not her."
No. Maybe she wasn't.
-----
An hour or so later we were together in a secluded corner in the back of the gym. We hadn't talked since she'd left for New York. The sparring match had relieved some tension between us, though not all of it. Enough for us to talk again, though.
"I got some news while I was in New York. Thought I'd give you the big surprise in person," she was saying.
"What's that?"
"You're on Meltdown. One on one versus none other than the newest playmate for Steven Holmes, Celeste Crimson."
I snorted, holding back laughter. "So I deal with the lackey before I beat the champion. Simple enough."
"Because you have so much success with beating women as of late."
I hesitated a moment, at the double meaning of her words. She knew it was there, too. I looked away and said nothing.
"Listen, though, seriously, this is a good chance to get some scouting done on her. She's going to factor into the match at Kingdom Come one way or another, so you might as well get ready for it," she said, earnestly and honestly. I believed she was really trying to get me ready for the match, but my mind was elsewhere. I looked at her and met her eyes.
"I am sorry, you know," I said, and would have gone on, but she held up a hand.
She looked away. "Don't...just don't. You don't have to. It's over. Forget about it."
Her eyes met mine again and told me she meant it. Meant that she didn't want to talk about it, but not that it was really over.
I nodded slowly and looked down again. The silence stretched on. Stoya cleared her throat.
"Look, I'm going to get back to the room. I'll see you there, alright?"
I nodded at her and she left quietly to change and leave. I sat alone in the back for a few minutes, before reaching for my bag and digging out my phone. I took a deep breath and set it to recording.
"This is a message...for all of WZCW, and especially Celeste Crimson and Steven Holmes. The Lethal Lottery is over, and the balance of power has shifted. But one constant remains - me. You may not like me, you may not want to see me, but you can't get rid of me. Ty thought he could, and I brought him down for it. If anyone in WZCW thinks they can do what he could not, I welcome them to try. I'm sure that you, Steven Holmes, especially think that you can. Know that I look forward to proving you wrong, Steven. But, you know, we're going to have a long time to talk to each other. Today, I want to talk to your...girlfriend? Lover? ****e? Whatever she is. Celeste.
"Celeste, even at your worst, everyone in WZCW has always respected you. I hope you know that you've thrown that away. You've always been WZCW's lone wolf, a proud female warrior, you were a trailblazer for a new generation of women to join WZCW, and all that other shit they put on the trading cards. I don't really care. I know that when I respected people in the locker room, I put your name on the list. And I know that long after I stopped caring, others still did. But now? You're down in the gutter with me, sister, and that's not a fun place to be.
"Let me tell you how it's going to go from here on out. You're going to try your hardest, you're going to win, you're going to continue being as good as you've ever been. But no one will ever give you credit for it. No one will think you deserve a thing. They'll natter on about their new favorite superstar and forget about all you've done. It will never matter for the rest of your life what you do, because you'll never get the respect you deserve for it."
I grinned on one side of my face then.
"It's not a pleasant reality, but hey, I didn't put you here. You did it when you joined up with Steven Holmes and became the thing you hate. You're eye candy, you're a distraction, you're a diva, Celeste. You're his to kiss and do what he asks and laugh at his jokes and all the while never matter as a serious competitor because you're just some dumb blonde.
"This is new territory for you. I get it. You probably still think you'll be respected. I look forward to your first walk in the locker room. It's going to be eye opening. I can't wait to get into the ring with you as you realize what you've done. Thrown it all away for the glory, for what your gut told you was right. I'll tell you a secret. What hurts the most, in the end, is when you run out of lies to tell yourself.
"Celeste, you remind me of someone. You remind me of a woman who got in my way. And, well, my attorneys would advise against me admitting anything, but I think you have a pretty good idea of what happened there."
I sighed heavily.
"I see her face everywhere, you know, Celeste? When I think of you, I see her face. Same for other women I know. Strangers I see on the street. I wonder, whose face will you see? Sandy's? Your husband's? Your son's?
"You'll have to let me know. I just can't wait to find out."
I turned the recording off, saving it to upload later. I inhaled deeply, thinking about going back to the room, but I saw Stoya's - Kate's - no, Stoya's face waiting there. I didn't want to deal with it right now.
I'm not her, she kept insisting. She wasn't, that was true.
But would it all end the same way, anyway?
----
ALL THIS WILL HAPPEN AGAIN.
- Pythia, "Battlestar Galactica"
