Post by Zahara Matisse on Mar 25, 2016 3:05:12 GMT -6
"Friends are everything sometimes. Lovers come and go, acquaintances and co-workers change with the wind. But friends, the truly wonderful ones, are forever."
This must be what they call a 'banner night', the kind where everything seems to go just right. Not only did I get the pleasure of watching my dear friends Katie and Stacy earn themselves some hard-fought victories, but I kept my own momentum alive by defeating Dathyn. I even got to bust out my Spellbound submission for the first time! I know that somewhere, somehow, Drake is smiling about that one. After the show, spirits were high and adrenaline was still pumping like a Texas oil drill, so the three of us and Farrah decided that a night out was in order. We'd have loved to have brought Tyler and Zelda along, but little Elena needed their attention. So I promised them some take-out and us girls went hunting down some good food. The Italian in me spotted a locale via scent before my eyes ever laid upon it: Avanti Trattoria. And with the other ladies in agreement, thanks in no small amount to the same fragrances that drew my own attention just wafting off the place, we settled on that.
Finding a quiet window booth, Farrah and I took one side while the happy couple of Stacy and Katie took the other. I still marveled at how wonderful they were together, so sweet and genuine. It should come as no small surprise that I was a little envious, but they were such good friends that that hardly made a difference in the end. Besides, I didn't look at it as a negative...I looked at it as a goal. At least for when I actually had time, that is. As we sat back with our drinks, three of us suddenly found our phones going off. Sky Sangue was wasting little time this week in letting us know our near future at Nothing Else Matters, though in my case I'd known for a couple weeks and Stacy probably had, too. Still, seeing the card with my name up there next to that of Constance Chapin with the Xcel Championship on the line gave me the shivers and a case of fire-winged butterflies in my tummy. And that concern went straight to my face.
"It's a lot different being told about something and then seeing it in writing, isn't it?"
I said it more to myself than anyone else, thinking out loud.
"Constance Chapin. Former GPW World Champion, current Xcel Champion, the woman who broke Ryder Blade's amazing streak. Incredible wrestler...and now her and I are lined up on a collision course."
Maybe the smile was too wry, too wan. It seemed to get Stacy's attention.
"You've got this, Zo. Yes, it's going to be a tough match...I should know because she's beaten me. But I believe in you..."
"Stace is right, she believed in me when I fought for the Zero Gravity Championship, and now look at me?"
A few matches ago, I would have been a wreck. it's true. But couple finding some serious confidence after going the distance with Tyler Storm, the I4NI Champion and making some amazing friends, like these two, and suddenly even the darkest night doesn't seem as threatening. Their faith in me meant a lot. Last thing I wanted to do was make them feel it was misplaced.
"She's definitely going to be the most cerebral and technically sound opponent I've ever had. Not that you weren't tough in your own way, Stace..."
Tough? That was putting it mildly. Stacy has stamina to spare and can take a lot of punishment. She made me earn every inch. I've told her so before.
"...but this is a different kind of tough."
"Definitely..."
I notice that she's holding something back. It's quite clear that she's really happy about something and is wanting to release it to the world. It was obvious from the moment she checked her phone when we all received the information about our matches, and her reaction is certainly intriguing me. And, well, I'm not the most patient of girls sometimes, so I immediately start prodding with my best smile.
"Okay, Miss Jones. Spill. You're practically vibrating with anticipation."
"Well...as you all already knew, I'm facing Winter in a First Blood match...but I just found out that...It's the Main Event of the show!"
"Well worth the spot, too! I'd say that deserves a toast, ladies!"
Not that a single glass on that table had anything stronger than sweetened iced tea, mind you. We're all very responsible young ladies! But that don't mean they clinked any different when we tapped them together! Katie nods in agreement before she leans towards her fiancée and places a gentle, loving kiss on her lips making Stacy's face lighten up even more.
"Looks like you're right before that match yourself, Zoey. Women are ruling the night at Nothing Else Matters. I'm all for that."
Farrah grins at her own comment and I turn my smile her way.
"Didn't really need the extra pressure there, hon."
I nudge her in the ribs with my elbow and she nudges back until we're both laughing at how silly we are.
"Farrah's right, and you deserve to be in this position, Zo. You're one of the fastest rising stars here and you're getting better and better each and every week."
"I second that...Nothing Else Matters is going to be a defining night for women in this sport."
They're right. There's no denying that the women in this business are dominating right now, which is great, especially considering we're involved in a predominantly male orientated sport.
"But anyway, going back a bit, Zo...I was watching Breakthrough backstage and I couldn't help but notice a certain confrontation between yourself and Katalina Star...what's the deal with that?"
Didn't think she'd ask me that. Truth told, I was wondering the deal with it myself. Staring into my tea for a moment, I considered the ice cubes in various states of melting and all the lemon seeds drifting around before I answered.
"I wish I had a solid answer. I mean, we chatted a bit after I performed for the birthday party for her daughter, and that was actually pleasant..."
Pleasant wasn't the best word, but it was the only word I could come up with at that exact moment.
"...so maybe she just wants to talk?"
The look on Farrah's face said she wasn't buying that for a hot second. Turning from her toward Katie and Stacy, I got the feeling that they'd be looking very much the same.
"I know you are the kind of person who likes to see good in everyone, Zo. But you need to remember that this woman is a member of the Horsewomen of Chaos...you need to be careful around any of them...they're bad news."
"Hey, I can still feel the lumps Emma gave me back when Joanna was trying to pull the wool over everyone's eyes. But I gotta judge folks by how they treat me and Katalina's been nothing but kind. Nothing says I gotta hang with her friends. Besides...that Talon woman is intimidating enough to just be in the same arena as her."
"I'm never gonna tell you who you should and shouldn't hang out with, I have no right to do that nor do I have the intention to do that...but just be careful, okay. We all care deeply for you, and we don't want to see anything happen to you..."
It wasn't hard to see where they were coming from. Stacy had had her share of pain and betrayal...enough to last a lifetime in my opinion. They were saying so because they cared. That in itself meant a lot.
"I promise I'll be careful."
"That's all we wanted to hear...but anyway...moving onto more exciting news. We've finally decided on a date for our wedding."
Turning to Katie, Stacy smiles as she places her hand on top of hers.
"Would you like to do the honors, honey?"
“Yessum. We decided since I proposed to Stacy on her birthday, that we’d have the wedding on my birthday, September 10th. We thought that it’d all come full circle if we had it then."
"Can't argue with that logic. Gives you plenty of time to plan things out, too."
"Plenty of time? It doesn't feel like it. I'm already freaking out about making sure we get things sorted in time!"
She lets out a small chuckle before she takes a drink of her iced tea.
"But speaking of the wedding...I was wondering if you'd be one of my bridesmaids, Zo."
"...really? Are you sure?"
I'd not even considered the possibility. Would have liked to attend the event, sure, but a bridesmaid?
"Of course, you're quickly becoming a very good friend to the both of us, and we want you to play a big part in our special day."
Now, my first thought was quite literally 'awwww!' but the second one had me wondering about Farrah. She was as close to me as I was becoming to them.
"Well, I'd be honored, of course. Farrah can attend the event too, though, right?"
"I was thinking she could be our photographer, actually."
"You know I'd be more than happy to take care of that for you two. I can set up for some shots before and after the event to add to your album if you like."
"That would be lovely, Farrah...that's one less thing for us to worry about...and you will be paid for it too, we're not taking no for an answer."
"You sure? I can make a pretty convincing case..."
That comment made me give her a look...you know the look. Brow up, curious yet confused expression? She gave me the same one right back before we both laughed.
"...but I can see that's not gonna work, is it?"
"No it is not, missy. I am a very stubborn woman, Katie can attest to that..."
Katie nods with her eyes closed.
"Indeed."
Now, Farrah and I are VERY good girls. We go to bed on time, we eat well, we never forget to call home...but something about Stacy's comment and Katie's reaction just made us start giggling for some reason. Maybe we'd been hanging out with them and Zelda too much, but the mental images just filled themselves in with ease.
"Speaking of our relationship, as you saw when I tweeted about it the other day, Zo. Nothing Else Matters marks the one year anniversary since Katie and I met for the first time, so we've decided to have a little after party when the show is over to celebrate. Can we count on an appearance from the two of you?"
We stop with our giggling somehow and nod to Stacy's question. By then I have enough breath to speak again.
"Depending on how many knots Constance ties me into, for certain."
"Oh, I can handle that. I have a brother who was a Boy Scout. I can straighten you out."
"Why do I detect mischief in your voice?"
She was usually pretty reserved as a rule, but get Farrah around the right people and get her comfortable and she had a dark side.
"Because you've known me over half your life and the memories are burned into your psyche."
The three of us, Stacy, Katie and I, exchange looks for a moment before bursting into boisterous laughter again, with Farrah joining in. Nights like these...I treasured them as much as I could.
"Enemies don't always have to stay that way. Even the worst of people have a shred of good within them somewhere. The patient will find it and bring it to the light, turning foe to friend."
The day of days.
Some folks, even in my own family or the closer circle of friends that I keep, wonder why I keep to this ritual every year. They ask how I can put important plans and events on hold for the sake of an act that only seems to bring me tears and a strong need for alone time after the fact. I've never tried explaining it to them because the people who know well understand without description. They get why I want to do it, why I need to do it. I'm not the sort of lady who lets go easily, especially where matters of the heart are concerned.
Naturally, I'm bustling about my apartment like a madwoman, making sure I have everything I need packed up, double-checking my purse to make sure every scrap of paper and photograph is where I put it, that I've got the spare battery for my phone, my keys...all that jazz. It's the same checklist every year, and no matter how sure I am that I'm ready before my head hits the pillow the night before, I'm still buzzing around like a confused bee trying to decide on a flower. Once I finally settle within myself that, yes, I have everything and that, no, I don't need to check again, I call out to my houseguest from the hallway.
"I'm heading out, Kelsey! Do you need anything before I go?"
Crazy as people think I am for doing what I'm about to do, they probably think I'm twice as bonkers for opening up my home to a woman who not two months ago I was in a war of words and physicality with. Kelsey Spencer and I had a war of words all over Twitter and even a bit on camera via Breakthrough. And we fought hard in the ring with one another at Double Jeopardy. It was the first time in my young career that a win really mattered to me. I wanted to teach her a lesson, which isn't my usual mindset.
"Um, no...I think I'm good."
She earned my respect as a wrestler that night. More recently, she started showing more of the woman I knew she was within. Started around the time this Mimi girl was brought in by her friend and partner, Rebecca Saint, who in my mind was mistreating both from the get-go. And when she treated both with disrespect, it made my blood boil just a bit. I kept my focus on my own business, but I offered support to Kelsey as well, knowing I'd likely be rebuffed with forced insults. But it had become too much for her and the gentler side started to come out.
Then Saint threatened to strand her between Breakthrough 42 and Nothing Else Matters and that was the final straw. As a result, Kelsey's been my guest for the last several days and I have to admit that despite her being on the reclusive side as she deals with what's weighing on her, it's been nice having her around. I set my bag down and moved down the hall, gently tapping on her door.
"Are you decent, hon?"
"Y-Yeah."
Poor thing was dealing with a lot. I wanted to do more, as if I hadn't done so much already, but I also wanted to give her her space. Nudging the door open I see her sitting on the guest bed, gazing at her portable camera as if trying to decide whether or not to fire it up. That was my perception anyway. Clad in an oversized tee, sweats and little white socks, her striking hair pulled back into a ponytail, Kelsey showed none of the wicked, shrewy aura that most knew her for in VoW. She looked small, worried...and I say none of that as a means of insulting her or giving a negative impression.
It's called being human. We all have our moments.
"I'll be out for a couple hours. Soon as I get back, we'll pack up and head for Windsor. Think you'll be ready by then? We'll pick up some dinner before we fully get on the road if you like."
I gave her my most friendly of smiles despite my not feeling capable of doing so. Again, this was one of those days that I equally anticipated yet dreaded. Kelsey looked up and managed a slight smile, though it didn't linger.
"I can do that, sure."
"Good. It isn't a terribly long drive-"
"Zahara?"
Shaking my head, I brought a hand up to gently quiet her.
"You can call me Zoey, Kelsey. We're friends now, remember?"
She bit her lip slightly, still not used to that it seemed. I could have sworn I saw a tear in the corner of her eye but it was probably my imagination.
"Okay, Zoey. I just want to, y'know, thank you again for this. It's kinda above and beyond the call, you know?"
"You know you're welcome. Just like you're welcome to visit again sometime if you like."
Nodding, Kelsey unfolded her legs and turned on the bed, standing. I'd learned a bit about her up to this point, including how she wasn't fond of physical contact beyond what went on in the ring. So I was rightly surprised when she hugged me like that. Tight, too. But I was quick to hug her back, realizing quickly that that tear had been no trick of the light when I felt the warm drops soaking into my shirt. She said nothing else for a minute and I let her stay right there as long as she needed, just as I had for Katie that past Friday when she, too, was upset.
Keeping hold of her, I addressed my new friend quietly, gently, knowing this gesture on her part was a huge hurdle for her.
"You're a good person, Kelsey. I see it and so will everyone else in time. Don't let anyone tell you or make you feel like you aren't."
She nodded before drawing back, wiping away the lingering tears quickly before giving up that faint smile again. It made me smile all over again.
"Relax for a bit if you want, or get a little rest. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."
Moving back onto the bed, she resumed her previous cross-legged position and picked up the camera. I left her to her thoughts and headed back down the hall, picking up my bag on the way. Once again, her presence had helped me get my mind off the negative side of what was to come a bit. I thought I should tell her truly what that meant to me, but...she still needed time. I wanted her to come to accept the truth on her own without too much impetus from the outside. Casting one more glance at her doorway, I exited the apartment and let the door close softly behind me.
"Be settled with yourself, faults and merits alike. Love who and what you are without getting lost in the illusion of what could've, should've or would've been. What is...is what is. Happiness comes from acceptance of that."
A bit later into that rainy, dreary Thursday one week removed from Breakthrough 42, Zahara Matisse is where she always is on this same day each year, as she has been for the last several. The name of the cemetary doesn't matter, nor does the address. Rows upon rows of headstones, some aged and some new, some flowered and some bare, tell the tale clearly enough. The emotion that hangs like a miasma over whole of the place, invisible yet tangible and pulsing, speaks the proverbial volumes. But the only part of the entire property that the young magician has eyes for is the one bearing a black granite headstone with the name 'Staff Sgt. Drake Marcel Madigan'. There's no ambient sound as the view focuses on Zahara herself standing before the grave, one arm laden with a bouquet of stargazer lilies while her fingers hooked tightly through the handles of a few plastic-covered bags. Her other hand holds a large black umbrella to divert the tears of the angels pattering down all around her upon stones and emerald green grass alike.
She stands straight and proud before the headstone, a black silk blouse and long skirt easily catching the chill breeze blowing by, flat-soled black leather boots on her feet and a long, black coat draped around her slender body. And there's no pretending that the moisture on her cheeks is rain leaking through a hole in the umbrella, not that she'd even joke about that. She crouches down, deftly shifting the bags to her other hand and lowering the white-and-pink flowers into the small black opening designed for just such a purpose. She gathers a bagged folding chair set near the headstone, retrieving the seating within and unfolding it before taking a seat, umbrella still in hand, bags in her lap. Over the moment, Zahara's voice cuts in.
"If there's one thing I've never been a fan of, Constance, it's comparing scars. People these days, especially in their teenage years, love bemoaning their lot in life and putting their pain and dirty laundry out on display for the world to see. It happens everywhere, even in wrestling. People sometimes wear their suffering like a 'hug me' sign, begging for attention. And heaven forbid that someone even dare think that their pain is worse than someone else's. Because then it becomes about who's suffered more. Who's been touched in naughty places more, who's gotten more punishments from their parents, who's got more ex-girlfriends or boyfriends...the list goes on.
I've never liked that sort of thing. I'm still a young woman, not even a quarter-century old, and I've had my share of painful moments. What you're seeing right now is evidence of the worst of them. Here I sit, as I do every year, before the grave of my big brother, Drake. He's the reason I'm a wrestler on top of all else and was my biggest fan throughout my life. I could never imagine life without him until the powers-that-be decided it was time for me to learn. Doubtlessly you've heard me talk of high school friends leaving me behind, my surprising-to-some reaction to the recent passing of Cera, my early confidence issues and more. And I'd put money on you having your own share of stories and scars, both proverbial and literal, that have conspired to make you who and what you are."
Crossing one leg over the other, we make out a faint smile on Zahara's face as she starts to talk silently to the grave, to her brother. She sets a Styrofoam take-out container from one of the bags, placing it in another bag before setting it in front of the headstone, taking another from the original bag for herself. The visit, it would seem, starts with lunch. Thankfully we don't have to wait between bites for the Enchanting One to further address her opponent thanks to modern technology.
"Part of that is why I've been a fan of yours since you were in GPW, from your feud with Emma Carlisle all the way up to your winning their World Championship in a four-way Submission Smash. Your no-nonsense approach to life, wrestling and pretty much everything else has turned some folks off, though. You know it as well as I. But you stick to your guns. You're dedicated to your craft and lifestyle, Constance, and I admire that. Look where it's gotten you: a world title on your resume, being the first-ever GPW Valley Champion, and the skill to topple a 13-0 former Xcel Champion in Ryder Blade, becoming the reason that he's a 'former' undefeated champion. That alone is enough to show to the naysayers and doubters as proof that your way works. I'm not so cocky as to say you remind me of me, per se, but the similarities I perceive between us are comforting."
A smile, whether faint or broad, casts its warmth and affection on Zahara's words now, apparent even without us being able to feast upon her vision just yet. Before the headstone, the magician calmly eats her half of the meal but eventually puts it back in the bag and sets it aside as her appetite isn't at full strength.
"And in that, we're alike. I don't have your championship pedigree, your experience and a lot of other things that you possess. But I do have a vision and method to my life and career to which I am unflinchingly dedicated. Eight wins in a row, two of them over prominent former champions, one over a current champion. That was impressive enough in the eyes of Sky Sangue that she placed you before me when I sought to openly challenge any champion in VoW at Nothing Else Matters. And as I've said to you over social media, I have two goals for our match: either I leave Windsor as the new Xcel Champion, or with the satisfaction of having given you the toughest title defense possible. I mean to come through on that, Constance. Again, I'm a fan of you. Giving someone who has inspired me in her own bullheaded way less than my best is not something I'm willing to do. Period."
Despite the smile filling her honest, heartfelt words, there's strength behind them that's still a new trait for Zahara to express. Her passion for the business grows every passing week and it shows along with the steady affirmation of her confidence with every passing match. As we watch, Zahara picks up another of the bags, taking out an album of pictures, laminated papers and clippings from magazines. Our view is a bit closer now, fading out and back in smoothly, showing that this media pertains to her careers, both wrestling and magic. It would seem that she's telling Drake what's happened in the past year of her life, some pride showing in her expression as her smile starts to find its way back.
The feeling is given that she's in the same state wherever she's addressing the Xcel Champion from also.
"People think I'm a bit of a masochist. Did you know that?"
The giggle is sweet, heartfelt, full of genuine mirth...enough that we wish we could see it. After all, if you can't laugh at yourself sometimes...
"They think me visiting my brother's grave every year to catch up with him, to keep him in the know about where life's taking me is just hurting me in the end because they say I'm refusing to let go. I'm simply honoring him, the best man I've ever known, in my own way. They look at me offering forgiveness and support to a woman like Kelsey Spencer, who I've gone to war with as I'm sure you've seen, and think I'm crazy. They say I'm inviting myself right into a trap no doubt set up by her or Rebecca Saint or both, especially with giving Kelsey space in my apartment so she didn't have to resort to drastic measures thanks to Saint's apparent abandonment of her. I say that the day you stop showing compassion for your enemy is the day you become the enemy. I told Kelsey flat-out that I knew there was good in her somewhere. And it's starting to show up again. How could I turn her away, knowing that? It's not in my being...and it never will be.
You've got something like that in you, too. For the hard, brutally-honest exterior that you show the world, another little commonality we possess, your heart beats like mine. You know how to love and what it's like to lose. You have moments of weakness and times when everything gets to be too much. But when someone is in need of what you can offer, be it students or the few friends you keep, you're there. Different approach, same end result. Different scars, same pain. We're two of a kind, Constance, which is why, as much as I adore Stacy Jones and know that she'll rock the house versus Winter Pine in the main event..."
There's a brief pause in her words, long enough for the Zahara we see to pull a black silk hanky from her pocket and dab at her eyes a little before closing the album.
"...it's you and I that will steal this show."
What we see and what we hear matches up suddenly. It isn't really 'grim' determination although that's a cool term to try and use. Yet we all know there's nothing grim about Zahara Matisse. Determined, yes, but there's no emo cloud raining on this young lady's parade, even if the sky's ripped open and dripping everywhere already.
"In terms of styles it's an excellent mix. You, the technical wizard with a sharp mind and a powerful body. Me, the swift, high-flying striker with energy to spare. Speed versus skill. Risk versus control. You're going to have to fight to catch me, Constance, and I'm going to have to struggle to hold you down. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll put my stamina and athleticism up against anyone, anywhere, any time. Even against a woman who could tie me in a sailor's knot if she had a mind to. You certainly have reason enough. It's all centered within that gold and leather over your shoulder.
I've laid hands on that belt before, not as a champion but as a prank against good ol' Ryder Blade. And that touch lit a fire, crazy as you might find that. It was a catalyst and I knew right there that one day I wanted it around my waist, rightfully, to wear and defend with pride."
On-screen, Zahara rises from the chair, having been chatting with Drake for some time now through the voice-over. She crouches again before the headstone, placing a light kiss atop it and a Ziploc-bagged item against it. A closer look shows a letter sealed in an envelope and what looks like a few pictures. The one at the top, the only photo visible, is one of Zahara, Stacy, Katie, Ty, Zelda and baby Elena, no doubt taken when the lot visited the new parents shortly after the little angel's birth. All smiles, all happiness...something the Enchanting One wanted to share with her brother.
Slowly, the sounds of the moment, not the voice above it, are heard. The rain patters down heavily at first but lightens a bit. A bit of sun peeks through a crack in the clouds here and there, swallowed up only to appear again elsewhere. Zahara, still crouched, places a gloved hand atop the headstone and speaks softly, tears soaked into her tone.
"Same time next year, brother. I love you."
Despite the sadness, Zahara affects a genuine-if-slight smile. Picking up the bag of take-out that her brother was unable to finish, she likewise packs up the chair and umbrella, seeing as how the rain is much lighter now. She heads off toward the small building where the groundskeeper that tends the cemetary works from. A light knock on the door brings an aged-but-vital man of over sixty years to open it, whereupon he smiles gently at Zahara.
"That time of year again, dear?"
"Yes, sir. As usual, he didn't touch his lunch. He just doesn't like Italian unless it comes from mom, I guess."
She presses the covered meal into his hands and leans up to kiss the older man on the cheek.
"Thanks for your time, Mr. Grant. Take care of yourself."
"You do the same. And good luck with your match, yeah?"
A bit of pink rises to Zahara's cheeks and her smile grows by degrees.
"Thank you so much."
She turns and slips away, the scene fading out and resuming at a rest stop, of all places, off the interstate. Zahara is leaning against a black Dodge Ram, likely a '10 model or better, with a custom paint job showing magic-weaving hands. No question about it: that's her chariot. She's holding a portable camera before her as she speaks, perhaps borrowing Kelsey's for the purpose though we don't see Miss Spencer near. But we do see that smile and the determination behind it.
"I'm paying no heed to anyone who says it isn't my time, that this is too soon for VoW's Magical Maiden. They don't need to tell me what I'm up against either because I know, Constance. Remember, I'm a fan. Being brutally honest, I believe I have what it takes to make your first defense your last. I believe that I weather your joint-wrenching, bone-bending, breath-stealing assault and have my arm raised in the end after you tap or take a three-second nap. What I don't believe is in anything or anyone stopping me from going nine wins in a row and having a shiny gold belt over my shoulder by night's end.
I pride myself on my honesty, Miss Chapin, so you can bet every book you own that I mean every last word I've said. I mean them and believe them. Because I have to."
She lifts her gaze from the camera, looking ahead. The sounds of cars rushing past in the background and the wind bursts they send her way is hardly distracting, save for the requirement of her reaching up to push her dark strands back behind her ear a time or two.
"Because the very second I falter in my belief and my confidence is the moment that the veteran in you will end my title hopes for the foreseeable future. And the only person who can make that lapse happen is me. Not you, nor anyone else who might think they have me figured out or wants to see me fall on my face.
ME."
The force of her words surprises even her.
"You can twist me until my bones creak and slam me until my back is a giant bruise, but I will still believe. By the time we're done in Windsor, I guarantee that you'll believe, too. Tyler Storm believes. He holds that I4NI belt a little closer now. trains a little harder too, after being in the ring with me. The fire that burns brighter in Stacy Jones does so because we clashed just as ferociously and I managed to put her down for three. She, too, believes. And the thousands of fans in the stands, they believe too, Constance. My spell has been woven for months now, since that day in early October when I signed my contract to my first match to now, to this moment of moments.
But more than ALL of that, it's who I have looking down on me from above that pushes me to be my absolute best. Every day, in every way, he's by my side. And I'm all the better for it."
She casts her eyes, and the lens of the portable, skyward. Nothing is said, for nothing needs to be. She's brushing away a single tear when the camera lowers, but the smile has never faltered.
"'Never meet your heroes', they say, because it shatters your illusions of them forever. I wouldn't call you my hero, Constance, but you ARE a woman I look up to and admire...one that I can't wait to face. One that I can't wait to defeat."
Deep breath in, slow exhale outward.
"Am I being foolish yet? Eight matches into my professional career, heading for my ninth, in my first ever shot at a championship...and I have the temerity to tell the worthy and dangerous champion that I will beat her? Brutal honesty, it seems, has its ups and downs. But there's no going back on my word. You'd think less of me if I did. So would everyone else. So would I. Bed's made and I'm looking to have me a sweet, sweet dream of gold and glory, only to pinch myself and find I was never sleeping at all. It'll be...magical."
Zahara smiles again as someone comes up to the truck. We hear but do not see them, and moreover the magician's voice takes our attention anew.
"Maybe you don't believe in magic. Maybe you do. But magic, Constance, in this case a euphemism for myself, believes in you. And I want you to know something, so pay attention: you say that you feel as if you have nothing. Much like other discussed topics before, I cannot let that stand. You ARE liked as WELL as respected. And you do have something. Something beyond material possessions, something beyond ephemeral status or fleeting accolades: You have a friend. Most call her Zahara Matisse. Some have more colorful nicknames. Not all of them are nice.
But you can call me Zoey, because that's what friends of mine do."
For a moment, strength gives way to gentleness, then turns again. Brief, yet the sensation is genuine.
Yes, I heard all that you said. And before this ends I want to extend my congratulations to yourself and Emily, as well as to express my pleasure that you have found happiness in more ways and places than just that bond. That's what I want for my friends, Constance: happiness."
Off to the side, someone steps in for a moment, most likely Kelsey. Zahara nods to her words but keeps her eyes on the camera with the kind of intensity she'll no doubt be affording Constance Chapin come Nothing Else Matters. Once her friend and travelling companion moves away, Zahara is back on point.
"Believe in magic, my friend. Believe in me. But most importantly, at least in Windsor, Ontario as we tear that house down, believe in yourself. Because the same momentary lapse that could cost me my first championship will cause you to lose your third.
The show of a lifetime, champ. Not just pretty words, but what I do. And no one does it better."
No smoke, mirrors or pretty lights this time. Zahara winks, gives a polite bow to the camera, and reaches up to shut it off. The scene fades to black.
