Post by Brooke Hernandez on Mar 4, 2023 12:28:10 GMT -5
So many people came to see her, she could hear them from the hallway below. A mass of humanity spilling over one another to see the blonde bombshell, to get that coveted autograph, to even have the thrill of seeing her in person outside of the wrestling ring.
Her southern upbringing caused her to be polite to everyone–greeting them all with a smile and a wave, but muttering to herself through grit teeth about the sheer number of people who took time out of their work day to see her. Something in her wanted to hate them, hate all of this. Something in her wanted to dismiss them all and tell them to go home, screaming to the heavens about how they were unworthy and utterly selfish for coming to get an autograph from her instead of working a job to provide for their families.
Her arm brushed against the fire extinguisher box. “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS.”
Yeah, hi, hey, we have an emergency, I don’t wanna do this—--
She smiled as she walked down the stairs of the hotel that OCW had put their stars at. The crowds surrounded her as she signed a few autographs. She smirked as she looked at a young girl. She motioned for the girl to join her on the steps as she began to speak. The girl was adorned in a Brooke Blakely “American Girl” t-shirt.
"When people ask why I do what I do I point to young fans like this young girl. I was once in her shoes watching wrestlers like "All Natural" Nick Kelly and "Killa" Jay Combs going at it. I remember watching as Chris Thantos decimated the competition.
What I don't remember is when this sport devolved into letting rejects like "Natural" Ice Beckman in. You see the only Natural Ice I know is a cold one from a styrofoam cooler when you couldn't afford Budweiser. Being from Texas, Natty isn't our first, second, third, or fourth choice but it will do in a pinch.
That's the kind of wrestler you are Beckman. You aren't Matt Meyhu, you aren't PIC, you aren't Harmon Egan, hell you aren't even Crash Rodriguez but when a body is needed you will do."
The fans began chanting for Brooke as she knelt down beside the girl and signed the t-shirt. The girl hugged Brooke as the hug brought a smile and some tears to the blonde gymnast’s eyes.
Darnit! Feelings! Why did she feel this way? Why did she feel anxious, nervous, frightened even? This was supposed to be a special moment where she makes a little’s girl's day but instead she couldn’t help feeling like the little girl owed her a thank you for even giving her the time of—
NO!
She can’t think this way. She needed a thicker skin, sure, but she was having a heck to a time suppressing the fire within her that burned like an inferno. What was she doing standing here like a shmutz!
Everything she ever knew as a young girl now felt like a lie, maybe their adoration would fade like her love for the lord……
She smiled on the outside, but on the inside she was screaming!
"Ice can keep on with his comics and his bland overused humor. The fact is that when we step between those ropes, the time for talking will be over. It will be time for us to fight and Ice, listen to me when I say this. You don't have it in you to beat me. You are not better than me and you will never be better than me. You are comic relief and nothing you do or say will change that. You are as useful to OCW as Leo.. no.. scratch that. You are LESS useful than Leo. At least he runs the OCW Twitter account. All you do is create comics that make Cyanide and Happiness look like the Mona Lisa.
No one ever says they want to be the next Ice Beckham. They want to be as talented as Harmon Egan. They want to win big matches like Synn. They want to be pretty like Brooke Blakely. Ice, answer me this, what do you want out of your career in this company? What do you bring to the table? I may not be the most experienced but at least I look pretty doing what I do. I lose gracefully. When I defeat you on Massacre I have a feeling you will throw a tantrum and try to tear a bunch of the set apart. You will not take it well and you will be fined and maybe fired. You will be done with the company as quickly as you signed your contract.
You see here Ice. You are worried about me and you are afraid to admit it. It's a "who's afraid of the big bad wolf" type situation. You don't want to admit to the world that you FEAR me. People fear that which they don't understand and there is no way you could ever admit that a rookie scares you. You'll just claim to be this tough dude until your world comes crashing down and my ambition kicks in.
I'm not your every day run of the mill blonde bimbo. I care about this business. I care about being the best and until I'm at the top I will stop at nothing to stop pretenders like you. You're not w wrestler Ice, you are a second rate, B Movie actor who's day in the spotlight will never come."
Brooke pushed past the crowd and got into her waiting limo. As they drove down the road a bit, Brooke stayed fixated on her phone which was still recording. She laughed as she looked out the window.
"I know my OCW career has had a rocky start. I know that nothing I say will prove my dominance but, rather, it is what I do and that means I need to get back into the win column. I need to do this for me. For Miss Moskowitz. For all those young women who look up to me. Doing gymnastics in the Southeastern Conference was full of pressure filled situations and I overcame every obstacle in my way. I made sure that the name Brooke Blakely would be remembered.
The limo parked as Brooke exited it. She walked into the restaurant off to the side. She goes in and a middle aged man with a suit on waved her down. She had a seat rather reluctantly.
"Hey dad.
The man spoke loudly and with a thick southern accent.
"Hey punkin. How's the rasslin' goin' fer ya?"
A woman who looked as if she had too much plastic surgery and smelled of Lady's Stetson and aquanet spoke up.
"Brookie Bee! I surely hope you are doin' well."
Brooke shook her head a bit in disgust hoping the southern couple didn't see. She never really felt a connection to her parents. They were as different as night and day. Brooke was progressive and forward thinking. Her parents were conservative and old fashioned. Scottie would be joining them soon. She had to tell them.
"Mom, Daddy. There is something I need to tell you before my partner shows up. Scottie isn't what you think…"
Her dad interjected himself… like always.
"What's wrong with him? Is he disabled or something?
Brooke spoke up but softly.
"Scottie is a she. She's a woman."
The jaws of her parents dropped as they shook their heads. Her mom spoke first, breaking the minutes long silence.
"Brookie, you are joking right? Your dad and I raised you better than this."
Brooke yelled back.
"Mom. It is 2023. Get with the times. It is ok to be different."
Her dad stood up and yelled.
"This isn't just different it is sinful!!"
The restaurant was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Brooke teared up a bit as she shook her head. Her mom spoke up again.
"Harold. Now isn't the time. Brookie is confiding in us with her life. She is wanting us to meet this friend of hers…"
Brooke stopped her mother from speaking.
"Girlfriend mom. She is not my friend. She is the woman I love."
Before anyone else can continue speaking Scottie Moskowitz walked up and sat beside Brooke. The two lovers held hands as the silence got awkward. The scene faded to black.
As we fade back in we saw Brooke in a tanning salon as she prepared to get her tan on. She shook her head side to side as she looked into the camera.
"No more Miss Nice Blakely. Ice you are across from me the wrong week. I am pissed off and you will reap the rewards.. or lack thereof. You are in my way and I will be damned if I allow you to beat me. I have to prove my worth and you are the stepping stone I need right now.
I'm gonna come right out and say it, Beckman. You are a giant waste of space. You shouldn't be allowed to breathe the same air as people like me. You are nothing. I will prove that on Massacre. No one in their right mind would be a fan of Ice Beckman. I'd say go be a comic creator but you're mid at that as well.
I am sick and tired of being overlooked. I was voted the most underrated star in OCW and that is an understatement. I am not just underrated, I am overlooked constantly and that changes this week on Massacre when I beat you, Ice.
I know how this sounds but I am not obsessed with you, Ice. I am simply seeing beating you as the boost I need to the top of the OCW. I will be a world champion one day. I know as a rookie I am not ready but I am ready to take on some of the top tier of OCW."
Brooke smirked as she got in the tanning bed. The recording continued as Brooke covered her eyes and laid under the blue illuminated lights. She continued speaking.
"Ice I am going to come to Massacre completely expecting to win. My skin will be perfectly tan and my skills will be perfectly on point. What do you strive for, Beckman? Do you strive for perfection? If you don't strive to be perfect than you are open to failure. Failure has never been an option for me, Ice. No way in hell will I fall to you on Massacre. No way will I allow myself to lose to a low budget Stan Lee. Lee was an icon, you are a flop and I will make sure of that this week."
Brooke laid there smirking as she felt the rays beaming down on her. She was confident bordering on cocky as she awaited her match against Ice Beckman. She was going to look good. Would she perform as well or would she fall flat? If she had her way, she would definitely win this match up.