Blood In My Mouth

Off-Camera

Rebecca strides into the warehouse, where Tyron is sitting against the wall, stretching out his legs. We can safely assume he’s cooling down after a training session. He looks up and raises his eyebrows a little to acknowledge her approach.

Rebecca Saint: “Can I talk to you?”

Tyron Bickerton: “Sure…”

He groans and winces as he struggles to touch his toes. Rebecca watches on as he curls his knees to his chest.

Tyron Bickerton: “What’s on your mind?”

Rebecca Saint: “I was a little concerned that you weren’t going to take this match seriously. But seeing you in here training, I’m pleased that you’ve-”

Tyron Bickerton: “Hold on… You think I’m training to prepare for those two? Give me a break!”

He takes a sip from his water bottle before swishing and spitting it into a bucket next to him. He reaches for a towel and wipes the sweat from his brow.

Tyron Bickerton: “I’ve just been doing my general cardio. It won’t take much to squash them like bugs, trust me.”

Rebecca Saint: “Don’t you see what we’re fighting for?”

Tyron Bickerton: “What?”

Rebecca leans against the wall with her arms folded.

Rebecca Saint: “This is more than another match. It’s bigger than just us… This is for the kids, and their future.”

Tyron climbs to his feet with the aid of the wall, bringing his water bottle with him.

Tyron Bickerton: “How do you figure?”

Rebecca Saint: “It’s our sworn duty to protect them from this plague. Can you picture what would happen if they infect their vulnerable, impressionable minds? We’d have an epidemic on our hands… There is nothing but us standing between us and the fall of the next generation… The collapse of society.”

Continuing his stretches, Tyron’s expression shifts from cockiness to one of concern.

Tyron Bickerton: “I didn’t think about it like that…”

Rebecca Saint: “They could bring down everything we’ve ever worked for, both in and out of Saint City… That shot at the World Visionary Championship you’ve dreamed of since you signed here will never become reality, because VoW itself will fall… No VoW means no championship.”

Tyron Bickerton: “You raise several good points… I’ll take this seriously.”

Tyron moves to resume his training, but Rebecca halts him by placing her hand on his shoulder.

Rebecca Saint: “Not just that, there’s something else I need from you...”

Tyron Bickerton: “Yeah?”

Her fingers drum on his shoulder as she thinks.

Rebecca Saint: “This afternoon, I’m planning to speak to the children. I’d like for you to be there to share your insight on all of this.”

Tyron Bickerton: “What? I’d have nothing to contribute… It’d be a waste of everyone’s time.”

Rebecca Saint: “Not necessarily… There are many young boys living here that are going to grow up believing that this is how they should treat women... Like they are objects. I want you to teach them otherwise.”

Tyron Bickerton: “Why can’t you-”

Rebecca spins him around in his place, so that they are now face-to-face.

Rebecca Saint: “It won’t mean as much coming from me… It needs to be from a masculine authority figure…”

There’s nothing but silence in the air as the pair exchange a series of awkward looks.

Rebecca Saint: “Please.”

Tyron Bickerton: “...Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Rebecca releases her grip.

Tyron Bickerton: “When and where do you need me?”

Rebecca Saint: “Main hall, 4:30. Don’t be late.”

Tyron Bickerton: “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Almost as if it’s on cue, young Mimi walks in the door of the gym, interrupting the conversation. Her body language indicates that something is troubling her. The pair exchange a knowing look and Tyron returns to training, leaving Rebecca to sit down with their daughter.

Rebecca Saint: “What brings you here, my child?”

Mimi Mai Saint: “There’s something I’ve been worried about for a while…”

Rebecca Saint: “What might that be?”

Mimi Mai Saint: “I just can’t stand Harley… She’s loud, obnoxious… I’m worried she’s gonna replace me completely.”

Rebecca Saint: “She's a lot like me, but why do you feel that way?”

Mimi Mai Saint: “That’s why… Because she’s a lot like you…”

Mimi’s quick to raise her hands in self-defense.

Mimi Mai Saint: “...I don’t mean that in a disrespectful way!”

Rebecca Saint: “I understand, but we are a family and we need to try and get along and not hold resentment towards our brothers and sisters.”

As the two are talking, Tyron calls out from the practice ring with his phone in his hand.

Tyron Bickerton: “Hey, Bec! You got the phone charger over there!?”

Mimi glances over her shoulder at him. Rebecca simply ignores him and turns her attention back to Mimi.

Mimi Mai Saint: “But, how? How are we supposed to get along with people when they’re just so annoying…”

Rebecca Saint: “If you really cannot get along, do your best to avoid conflict. And when you have to interact be the bigger person and don't let it get to you.”

Mimi Mai Saint: “So… She won’t be replacing me?”

Rebecca reaches her arm around young Mimi’s shoulders and pulls her closer. This kind of display of affection is foreign to the girl, and isn’t typically seen from Miss Saint.

Rebecca Saint: “No one is replacing anyone, she is here just to help me, as well as you. Think of her as your partner… You’re both just as important as each other.”

They both rise to their feet and share an embrace. Rebecca pulls away and Mimi smiles shyly.

Rebecca Saint: “Just do your best, do what you can.”

On-Camera

We’re shown a shot of the locker room where Rebecca Saint is standing in front of the camera. Just off to the right is her boyfriend and tag team partner Tyron Bickerton, who is leaning his back up against the wall of lockers. His arms are folded and his title belt is draped over his shoulder. Rebecca steps forward to speak.

Rebecca Saint: “I’ve had to deal with a lot of crap in my career here, but I'm pretty sure that this week takes the cake. I won my match against Katie Moicelle, and what happened? Everyone discredited it. That’s fine, that’s okay… I can accept how ignorant fans fail to see greatness when it’s right in front of them. I sucked it up and moved on… I beat Stacy Jones, and everyone still discredits my win. Umm… Excuse me? I earned those wins. Those fans sympathise with losers like Moicelle and Jones because they themselves are losers… It’s the relatability factor. That’s okay, but you should be giving me the credit I deserve.”

She shakes a single finger, gazing at her shoes for a second.

Rebecca Saint: “It's been all over social media and in my personal emails… Everyone’s suddenly being nice to me? You've got to be kidding me right now! I have never seen anything so pathetic in my life. Jamilyn, sweetheart, you can't play mind games with me, honey… I invented them! I think it's cute that you’re trying to convince me you want to bury the hatchet, but I wasn't born yesterday.”

She paces back and forth on the spot… Her eyes don't leave the camera.

Rebecca Saint: “Do you expect me to forget all the slander? You think I'm going to forgive you for what you’ve said about and to me? I don't let things go that easily anymore, honey… Even though I make a point not to respond to anything you say to me, I do see it… And I don’t like it. I’ve been biting my tongue around you for too long, and I’m tired of the taste of blood in my mouth... You are spreading lies about me, but you just expect me to turn the other cheek so we can be friends? Isn’t it a coincidence that you’re reaching out to me as we’re approaching our scheduled match? I know what you’re planning… You’re doing all you can to get on my good side and into my head, hoping that I’ll take it easy on you and make mistakes. Newsflash, sweetheart… I was using the very same strategy to get ahead years ago! Is that how you got that blonde bimbo to follow you around everywhere you go? That’s a pretty loyal partner you’ve made for yourself… My partner’s not like that. He has a mind of his own, and he’s capable of making his own decisions.”

She turns to her boyfriend for a second, who is still standing side-on to the camera.

Rebecca Saint: “My partner is also my best friend. We've been through alot together. He’s there to listen when I need someone.”

She faces the camera again, her hand not leaving her boyfriend’s shoulder.

Rebecca Saint: “But you don't care about any of that, do you, Jamilyn? You've gone on record to say that you despise anyone with the Y chromosome. What was it you said to our dear friend Ace Watson on Twitter… Oh, yes… “You have a penis, you wouldn’t understand”. That's just a little bit unfair, isn't it?”

She tilts her head toward Tyron.

Rebecca Saint: “Wouldn't you say that's unfair?”

Tyron Bickerton: “Completely.”

Rebecca Saint: “You can't help what parts you were born with, can you?”

Tyron Bickerton: “Nope.”

Rebecca leaves the I4NI Champion’s side and approaches the camera.

Rebecca Saint: “You're discriminating against men for something that's out of their control… Because Ace Watson and my boyfriend are men, you automatically hate them, by your own admission. Why, because men have mistreated you in your past? Well I'm black… Does that mean you're going to hate on me because a black kid stole your tricycle when you were three? Or maybe a black teacher gave you an F in social studies? I can't control what colour skin I was born with… So what’s the difference between being racist and automatically hating everyone with a penis?”

She takes a step or two back and comes to a halt a good three feet from the camera.

Rebecca Saint: “I feel like a broken record, but no one is getting the point… I have to keep repeating myself. I am not against gay people. What you do behind closed doors is your business. I can't stand that you feel the need to publicly post about it to the point where it's a defining trait of the women in VOW. I've seen it said more than a handful of times that it shouldn't be about who has sex with who, but that's just it… Social media is so oversaturated with that trash that it's all anyone watching the product associates you lot with. As a woman in VOW, that reflects badly on me!”

Tyron Bickerton: “It's disgusting. They’re too blind to see you're a wrestling goddess.”

Rebecca looks over her shoulder for a second.

Rebecca Saint: “Thank you, sweetheart!”

Back to the camera with a toothy grin.

Rebecca Saint: “Casa De Kami is nothing different from any other challenge we’ve come across… I used the term “challenge” in a slightly ironic way. You girls have already made up your minds that you're going to hate us, even though you don't know who we really are or what we stand for. I’m sure you girls have an idea of what we’re all about from your friends… They seem to be experts, even though none of them have stepped foot into Saint City. It offends me deeply… I liken it to how you’d most likely feel each time someone makes an assumption about your precious Starpoint Girls. You could make the argument that I’m doing the same thing but the fact is you’re throwing everything out there publicly everyday.”

Rebecca points between herself and Tyron.

Rebecca Saint: “The difference is we keep our private lives just that… Private. The world doesn’t need to know every detail. We conduct ourselves professionally in the public eye, as everyone should. It doesn't matter how many false attempts you make to try and be my friend… I can see right through you. So keep posting your stupid little pictures online and planning your wedding after being together only three months, why should we care?”

She looks over her shoulder at Tyron, who shakes his head and snickers sarcastically at her most recent remark. She rolls her eyes back to the camera.

Rebecca Saint: “It’s really sad to see things keep going this way. It truly makes me feel as though I made a wrong choice in coming to VOW... If this company was all about women with their partners and what they do all the time back in November last year, I wouldn’t have joined. I thought it was a legitimate business where I could display my talents, show the world how good I am as a female wrestler, have a challenge and change the landscape of females in the business. But you all have to have your public relationships and sprawl it all over everything. It makes me so angry and appalled that this is what it has come to.”

She slams her fist down into her waiting open palm.