Post by MJ Bell on Mar 21, 2014 15:27:00 GMT -5
A Dark Room
The scene opens up to a dark room and the only light is a small flickering flame. A door swings open revealing that everything inside in burnt. Ashes on the bed are in the formation of a dress with a melted box sitting next to it. The camera zooms in the show a ring inside. When it zooms out standing there is MJ Bell holding a can of fuel with a grin on her face.
MJ Bell: “We all like our dramatics, don't we? I thought you could appreciate all my hard work to really dig into the darker side of things. This is what you had mentioned, right? All the drama we have in this battle. I wanted to give you an answer to your question in a very special way. I'm sure you understand that I won't be walking down any ally with you, and your plan is already unraveling. I hope this grabs your attention and really draws you in. That was the whole point of doing all this. Is this dramatic enough for you, Sean?”
MJ tosses the empty fuel can away from her then she waves her hand out towards the charred furniture of a bed room.
“Yes, we all enjoy impressing the crowd with dramatics. If it isn't spooking people with being a stalker then it's planning out someone's life to frighten them, and if it isn't that then it's setting a fire or blowing up a truck. I'm sure you made a lot of people panic, sent chills down their spines and made they glad they aren't in my shoes. They are once again afraid of the imaginary monster that hides under their bed when they sleep. Folks at home will look over their shoulders to watch their back because they remember monsters do exist. I have to say... Congratulations.”
She is clapping her hands out in front of her with her head down. Those fury locks are hiding her face until she looks up.
“Sean, you win at being the creepier one of us. You win at giving the crowd what they wanted all along. You win at being just a little predictable. Who could anticipate you stalking me as a tactic or planning our wedding or even setting a scene for my death? No one. It really gave you a step up, didn't it? You thought that in all these stories you weaved that I'd get tangled up. I'd hide under my covers with all the doors locked and pray until the sun came up again assuring me that I survived another night. You thought I would always be checking over my shoulder for you and flinching every time there was a loud noise.”
There is a small breeze coming from the covered window, which blows some of the ash around MJ's feet. It stirs up a small cloud but it doesn't bother her.
“It's believed that you've planned my whole life out, isn't you? From the moment we step into the ring to the day of my death. Those are only fairytales though. The stories you tell yourself at night so you don't have to face the horrors of reality. I think the truth of the matter is that you needed a challenge and you needed a way to impress The Family. It must have appeared like fate brought us together. With one defiant stand I gave you what you needed. In your eyes, I was a present wrapped up in a pretty bow that you could do with what you want. A gift given by the universe to solve all your problems. With me defeated, broken and laid out at your feet, you'd gain the respect from The Family. Your trophy wife at your side with a smile on her face. There wouldn't be a threat to your monstrous crimes anymore. “
Her eyes look around, boot kicks up a few more of the ashes.
“Allow me to shed some light on all those bed time stories you've told everyone. When you come down to the ring with your wife, the crowd will be at the edge of their seats. They'll boo or cheer and you'll be empowered by it all either way, and when I come down you'll just smirk because you think it will go according to plan. The match will be long, tiring and it will lead to one moment... You'll try to break me when a submission. It'll be frustrating when it doesn't work. The match will become increasing more annoying because nothing you do is going to keep me down. We'll hammer away at each other. Bloody and bruised the match will draw to a close. I'll be standing there, the victor and you, Sean, would have lost. All those stories, all those attempts and all the presents will all have been for nothing. Time and energy wasted for absolutely nothing. There will be no walking down an ally, no wedding, no death and there certainly won't be you as a winner.”
MJ rubs her hands together before slipping them into the pockets of her leather jacket. She walks over to the bed looking down at it.
“It isn't what you expected is it? It isn't the happily-ever-after planned out in the fairytales. Do you want to hear why the ending won't be what you wanted?”
She inhales with a sad smile appearing on her lips.
“It isn't a riddle. Your soul is as dark and cruel. There is no purity in you. The 'purity' you have is a false statement that you tell yourself. You've been tricked by that twisted mind of yours. In your story, in a certain way, you are the victim. A poor monster that was required to do evil by a power tripping master. If it wasn't for a hero standing in your way then you wouldn't have been ordered to do such horrible things. All of the twisted, demented things you had done to me was a crime of passion. I was the one in fault. Yet in reality, you didn't count on me not being scared of you. I don't think you counted on me fighting back. The fact remains, you don't know who I am and you don't know what I can do. See, Sean, that is your one mistake and I won't over look it. I've run out of mercy to give.“
She reaches down to scoop of the melted box. MJ shakes her head before she tosses it out of sight.
“Keep trying to force-feed me things, Sean. Those stalker lines, those sick stories and those foolish dramatics. I like a good story, I always have. This whole week has been.... interesting. So, I do need to know something and be honest with me. How worried are you? To be the big scary horror, you can't be scared of anything, right? Have you ever heard those stories though? In the end it isn't the monster that wins those epic battles. He is the one fleeing from the light of day, dying from a stab wound to the chest or is nothing more then a pile of ash waiting to be blown away by a gust of wind. If you want to be the bad guy then you can't have the ending you want. ”
MJ walks away from the bed towards the door but she stops and turns around.
“Was this enough drama for you?”
There is a small lick of flames beginning to bloom from the floor.
“When you step into the ring... All those stories will be running through your head but when you lose... Will you find another book or read the one you wrote over and over again to ease the pain?”
A large flame blocks the scene of the room for a second before it dies down. The fire seems like it is consuming the whole room again and MJ has disappeared out of sight.
March 20- Room 143
The shower is running filling the bathroom with steam. It is calming to hear the water mimic rain, pour buckets of warmth down onto her aches and it's soothing every muscle in MJ's sore body. Her head is tip backwards letting her damp hair cling to her shoulders and back. She is singing a slow song and the shower walls are allowing it to drift into the other room. She stops when the bathroom door opens and closes.
Melissa Reed: “Hurry up, MJ.”
MJ Bell: “What are you doing in here?”
Out from behind the curtain she leans out to peek at Melissa. Her friend is busy wiping down the foggy mirror, ignoring the question as MJ disappears back into the shower. She finally begins to wash herself starting with her arms and chest.
MJ Bell: “Thanks again for having Jessup help me with effects for the promo. He did an awesome job... It came out how I wanted but I don't know if it'll make an impact.”
Melissa Reed: “No problem, babe. I think it'll get the reaction you wanted. I don't think I've ever seen you so chatty.”
MJ steps up onto the ledge as she washes her leg with a smile. After a few moments it vanishes while she switches legs. Her mind is clouding up with a million thoughts again. Her hands slow when scrubbing down her smooth leg, eyes growing increasingly more blank and all movement stops.
MJ Bell: “I know I've been saying this a lot lately... but I really can't afford to lose this.”
Melissa Reed: “Yeah, I know love...
"
Melissa sets her makeup bag onto the counter before pausing.
Melissa Reed: “Where did that come from?”
MJ Bell: “I don't know. I was just thinking about the match and what I'd do if I lost. I'm scared that I'll actually do something bad.”
Melissa Reed: “Like what, kiss Ian again?”
Melissa is grinning from ear to ear with that joke however MJ is rolling her eyes while she soaps up her hair.
MJ Bell: “Oh har-har. I meant actually... like.... hurting someone. You know... It took a lot out of me to not hit Katilyn with that chair. I just--”
Her voice is hurrying, a little frantic. Melissa interjects to stop MJ.
Melissa Reed: “Hey, whoa! Slow down there MJ. Even if you wanted to hurt that dumb bimbo, the fact of the matter is that you didn't, okay? You are a good person.”
When MJ finishes washing all the soap from her hair she turns the water off then reaches out to snatch her towel. Slowly she dries her hair then wraps the towel around herself and steps out of the shower. Melissa is doing her make-up.
MJ Bell: “Why are you getting all dressed up?”
Melissa Reed: “Oh, you will be getting ready too. We are going out!”
MJ Bell: “I have training to do! The match is Saturday. That only gives me two more days.”
Melissa Reed: “I am putting my foot down on this one. Have you taken a look at where we are? This is a beautiful state with beautiful men and a beautiful beach. So you know what? You are taking the day off.”
There is a childish reaction when MJ stomps her foot to the floor then storms out of the bathroom. Melissa watches this and doesn't seem to care. MJ loudly puts some clothes on making all sorts of huffs and puffs. With a swing of her body, MJ flops onto the bed.
MJ Bell: “I don't want to take the day off... I want to train today. I cannot take the day off to go... find you a booty call.”
Melissa Reed: “Either you go out with me or I'm going to call Kenshin.”
Melissa is out of the bathroom holding MJ's phone but isn't getting any movement from the red head. She shrugs her shoulders and dials the number. Melissa is mimicking MJ's voice as she speaks.
Melissa Reed: “Hey sexy. I was just thinking about you. I wanted to tell you that I'm in love with you and I was wondering if you wanted-- OOF!”
MJ tackles Melissa mid-sentence trying to wrestle her phone away. The two of them roll around the floor trying to get the phone. They are yelling at one another.
“Give me the phone!” “Go out with me or I'm calling Ian next!” “Melissa, give me the damn phone!” “No!” " Give!” “Never!” “LET GO!” “Take the day off!” “I don't want to!” “Fine, you've forced my hand!”
Melissa kicks MJ off of her and MJ tumbles backwards having little success grabbing her cell back. Melissa backs away dialing another number. With one swift movement MJ snatches a pillow and lunges at her friend but Melissa is ready for is and pushes a chair in front of her.
Melissa Reed: “Oh, hi Ian--”
MJ Bell:” FINE! Fine, you win! I'll take the day off!”
Melissa Reed: “Yay. I win!”
MJ shouts in aggravation lunging over the chair to tackle Melissa again. She sits on top of Melissa, both legs pinning her arms down, finally snatching her phone back and looks at it. To MJ's horror the phone isn't even on.
MJ Bell: “I hate you...”
MJ rolls off of Melissa laying next to her. Melissa is panting but starts laughing flailing her arms in the air like some crazy person.
Melissa Reed: “You are so in love with Ke--”
A quick jab to the side causes Melissa to roll away from MJ, still laughing but in some sort of pain. MJ sits up blowing her hair out of her face.
MJ Bell: “Grade A pain in my ass. Didn't even have the phone on... I hate you. I seriously hate you.”
Through all of this Melissa is still laughing and pretty soon MJ laughs. The two of them are soon doubling over in laughter. It is a relief to laugh again, to not feel angry or ache from working out, so MJ takes this moment. Even if it wasn't that funny of a joke.
Later, LA Gym.
“She's has been there for way too long and won't listen to me. Maybe you can talk some sense into her...”
MJ is panting heavily with each punch she throws at the swinging bag. Physically her body is worn, tired, and shaking from the hours of working out. Sweat drips down her body coating her in a wash of it. Her hair is back in a ponytail away from her face but still seems greasy. Her fist hits against the bag again as she hisses from the sudden pain resonating from her knuckles. Blood begins to leak from the bag dripping down the material before she removes her hand to inspect the damage. There are a few small cuts along with one long gash between two of her knuckles.
MJ Bell: “Fuck...”
Without missing a beat, she heads over to her bag to remove a wrap to cover up her bleeding hand. She doesn't waste a lot of time on fixing up her hand, just a simple patch before she returns to standing in front of the punching bag. Upon hitting the bag once more, a wave of pain travels up her weak arm and causes blood to stain the wrap. It doesn't stop her from finding a slow rhythm but MJ has to stop every once in a while to check the wrap. The cuts feel like they are opening up more.
MJ Bell: “Great...”
Her hazel eyes roll in a circle showing her annoyance but she stops from taking another swing. Quickly, she jogs over to collect a towel from the rack beside the wrestling ring to clean up the blood from the punching bag. MJ turns on her heels back to the bag and kneels down in front of it taking her time to wipe the blood off.
“Are you trying to wreck yourself, MJ?”
For the first time, MJ does not appear to be happy hearing Kenshin’s voice. Her head shakes from side to side and she drops her hand away from the punching bag. The bag still has a few spots of blood so MJ begins to wipe them away.
MJ Bell: “Go away, Kenshin.”
It is obvious that MJ is deeply focused on her training, but Kenshin can tell that she’s overworking herself at this point.
Kenshin Takamura: “Look, MJ, there is only so much training you can put yourself through. The fact that you’re wiping blood of that punching-bag tells the whole story.”
Takamura pauses for a moment, waiting for her to acknowledge him, but she doesn’t seem to. Those hazel eyes have a million mile stare as she scrubs the blood that is no longer there.
Kenshin Takamura: “MJ, your body is screaming at you to give it a break.”
She swallows a lump in her throat and hazel green eyes moistening but no tears free themselves. Her body is rigid, both arms lowering away from the bag with an exhausted breath leaving her lips. It didn’t matter how many times MJ attempts to explain why she doesn’t want to rest, Melissa refuses to listen. MJ knows that losing doesn’t mean she is weak but it is hard to block out everything said over the last two weeks. It’s as if she is back in the past when her brother was in the hospital, killing herself with worry. The horrible anger that is crawling through her body to the surface and suffocating her. A loss, in her mind, means failing herself. Her body wobbles when she stands up then walks over to the hamper to toss the towel away.
MJ refuses to meet Kenshin’s eyes or even look in his general location. There is a sharp pain burning from her knuckles and MJ finally takes a minute to look at it. Carefully, she removes the wrap revealing a bloody mess. Her whole body trembles but MJ ignores it and walks over to the sink to wash away the blood. While running the blood away, her facial expression is unresponsive. An emotionless cover hiding away all the swirling emotions building within her body. MJ finally speaks but her voice sounds indifferent.
MJ Bell: “I don’t have time to rest.”
That is it. The sink turns off but MJ just stands there with both hands gripping the sides of the sink, her head is down. Kenshin slowly walks toward her. By the look on his face, he’s obviously concerned about MJ’s current training habits.
Kenshin Takamura: “Yes, you do. You have been training nearly all week. It’s time to let yourself relax until Black Out. If you continue like this, you are going to burn yourself out before you can face off against Fuller. I do not want to see that happen, do you?”
As Kenshin speaks, he continues to approach her until he can reach out and rest a hand upon her slender shoulder. Slowly, he rubs her shoulder. MJ shakily inhales before she grips the sink tighter. She will not cry in front of Kenshin.
Kenshin Takamura: “Hey, it’s okay. I understand.”
MJ Bell: “I don’t know what to do….”
The shell MJ has created around herself cracks.
MJ Bell: “I feel like I can’t breathe anymore because of that-- t-that monster… I keep telling myself that if I push just a little harder that there is no way that I can lose but there is no guarantee. I can’t afford that doubt hovering over me. There shouldn’t be any doubt but I feel like I’m...”
Her voice cracks, a shallow gasp and she covers her mouth with her hand. MJ jerks away from Kenshin walking straight towards her bag again. A burst of energy blocks the fatigue that is ailing her body as she furiously digs through her stuff. Concern plagues Kenshin face. He doesn’t know whether he should follow her or let her be, but as he watches her from afar, he decides it is only right to show her his concern for her.
Kenshin Takamura: “Madeline…”
He addresses her by her actual name as he steps over to her, resting both of his hands on her slender shoulders this time. MJ flinches but doesn't jerk away from him this time.
Kenshin Takamura: “I know her hurt you. He is a sick individual, but I believe in you. I believe you can defeat him, but if you work yourself this hard, you are going to hurt yourself more than he could ever hurt you.”
Kenshin turns her around to face him, trying to look her in the eye, but she doesn’t seem to want to look at him. Instead of trying to catch her gaze, he opts to just embrace her. Pulling her into his arms, he rubs her back and presses his chin against the top of her head thanks to his height advantage on her.
Kenshin Takamura: “It’s okay…”
MJ has no more fight left in her at this point. At least with Melissa, she could yell to get her to go away, but with Kenshin she couldn’t. The two of them had shared almost everything with each other even if they hadn’t known on another very long. He had become her go-to person. When she couldn’t talk to Melissa then she would turn to Kenshin. Tears stream down her cheeks, her breath hitching in her throat every time she tries to breathe but she doesn’t fight against him. MJ just leans all her weight against Kenshin, allowing him to support her. All nerves for the match, all the fear from the memories of her past, and all the anger building up from the doubt starts receding. She turns her head to the side looking at nothing in particular as the tears slowly stop.
MJ Bell: “I’m tired.”
A chuckle escapes Kenshin’s mouth at the random proclamation of her being tired, he kisses the top of her head. A small smile spreads across her lips.
Kenshin Takamura: “I bet you are. You have been at it for a while now. How about we go back to the hotel and get some rest? We both need it since we have some huge matches ahead of us.”
MJ Bell: “I love that idea…”
MJ takes a step back from him to go gather her things up. It's amazing how easily he can turn her mood. Now, MJ can feel how tired she truly is. Her body hurts but her head isn't aching anymore. Kenshin waits for at that door and MJ hurries to catch up with him. Her arm goes around his waist and he slips his arm around her shoulder as they head out to their vehicles.
The scene opens up to a dark room and the only light is a small flickering flame. A door swings open revealing that everything inside in burnt. Ashes on the bed are in the formation of a dress with a melted box sitting next to it. The camera zooms in the show a ring inside. When it zooms out standing there is MJ Bell holding a can of fuel with a grin on her face.
MJ Bell: “We all like our dramatics, don't we? I thought you could appreciate all my hard work to really dig into the darker side of things. This is what you had mentioned, right? All the drama we have in this battle. I wanted to give you an answer to your question in a very special way. I'm sure you understand that I won't be walking down any ally with you, and your plan is already unraveling. I hope this grabs your attention and really draws you in. That was the whole point of doing all this. Is this dramatic enough for you, Sean?”
MJ tosses the empty fuel can away from her then she waves her hand out towards the charred furniture of a bed room.
“Yes, we all enjoy impressing the crowd with dramatics. If it isn't spooking people with being a stalker then it's planning out someone's life to frighten them, and if it isn't that then it's setting a fire or blowing up a truck. I'm sure you made a lot of people panic, sent chills down their spines and made they glad they aren't in my shoes. They are once again afraid of the imaginary monster that hides under their bed when they sleep. Folks at home will look over their shoulders to watch their back because they remember monsters do exist. I have to say... Congratulations.”
She is clapping her hands out in front of her with her head down. Those fury locks are hiding her face until she looks up.
“Sean, you win at being the creepier one of us. You win at giving the crowd what they wanted all along. You win at being just a little predictable. Who could anticipate you stalking me as a tactic or planning our wedding or even setting a scene for my death? No one. It really gave you a step up, didn't it? You thought that in all these stories you weaved that I'd get tangled up. I'd hide under my covers with all the doors locked and pray until the sun came up again assuring me that I survived another night. You thought I would always be checking over my shoulder for you and flinching every time there was a loud noise.”
There is a small breeze coming from the covered window, which blows some of the ash around MJ's feet. It stirs up a small cloud but it doesn't bother her.
“It's believed that you've planned my whole life out, isn't you? From the moment we step into the ring to the day of my death. Those are only fairytales though. The stories you tell yourself at night so you don't have to face the horrors of reality. I think the truth of the matter is that you needed a challenge and you needed a way to impress The Family. It must have appeared like fate brought us together. With one defiant stand I gave you what you needed. In your eyes, I was a present wrapped up in a pretty bow that you could do with what you want. A gift given by the universe to solve all your problems. With me defeated, broken and laid out at your feet, you'd gain the respect from The Family. Your trophy wife at your side with a smile on her face. There wouldn't be a threat to your monstrous crimes anymore. “
Her eyes look around, boot kicks up a few more of the ashes.
“Allow me to shed some light on all those bed time stories you've told everyone. When you come down to the ring with your wife, the crowd will be at the edge of their seats. They'll boo or cheer and you'll be empowered by it all either way, and when I come down you'll just smirk because you think it will go according to plan. The match will be long, tiring and it will lead to one moment... You'll try to break me when a submission. It'll be frustrating when it doesn't work. The match will become increasing more annoying because nothing you do is going to keep me down. We'll hammer away at each other. Bloody and bruised the match will draw to a close. I'll be standing there, the victor and you, Sean, would have lost. All those stories, all those attempts and all the presents will all have been for nothing. Time and energy wasted for absolutely nothing. There will be no walking down an ally, no wedding, no death and there certainly won't be you as a winner.”
MJ rubs her hands together before slipping them into the pockets of her leather jacket. She walks over to the bed looking down at it.
“It isn't what you expected is it? It isn't the happily-ever-after planned out in the fairytales. Do you want to hear why the ending won't be what you wanted?”
She inhales with a sad smile appearing on her lips.
“It isn't a riddle. Your soul is as dark and cruel. There is no purity in you. The 'purity' you have is a false statement that you tell yourself. You've been tricked by that twisted mind of yours. In your story, in a certain way, you are the victim. A poor monster that was required to do evil by a power tripping master. If it wasn't for a hero standing in your way then you wouldn't have been ordered to do such horrible things. All of the twisted, demented things you had done to me was a crime of passion. I was the one in fault. Yet in reality, you didn't count on me not being scared of you. I don't think you counted on me fighting back. The fact remains, you don't know who I am and you don't know what I can do. See, Sean, that is your one mistake and I won't over look it. I've run out of mercy to give.“
She reaches down to scoop of the melted box. MJ shakes her head before she tosses it out of sight.
“Keep trying to force-feed me things, Sean. Those stalker lines, those sick stories and those foolish dramatics. I like a good story, I always have. This whole week has been.... interesting. So, I do need to know something and be honest with me. How worried are you? To be the big scary horror, you can't be scared of anything, right? Have you ever heard those stories though? In the end it isn't the monster that wins those epic battles. He is the one fleeing from the light of day, dying from a stab wound to the chest or is nothing more then a pile of ash waiting to be blown away by a gust of wind. If you want to be the bad guy then you can't have the ending you want. ”
MJ walks away from the bed towards the door but she stops and turns around.
“Was this enough drama for you?”
There is a small lick of flames beginning to bloom from the floor.
“When you step into the ring... All those stories will be running through your head but when you lose... Will you find another book or read the one you wrote over and over again to ease the pain?”
A large flame blocks the scene of the room for a second before it dies down. The fire seems like it is consuming the whole room again and MJ has disappeared out of sight.
March 20- Room 143
The shower is running filling the bathroom with steam. It is calming to hear the water mimic rain, pour buckets of warmth down onto her aches and it's soothing every muscle in MJ's sore body. Her head is tip backwards letting her damp hair cling to her shoulders and back. She is singing a slow song and the shower walls are allowing it to drift into the other room. She stops when the bathroom door opens and closes.
Melissa Reed: “Hurry up, MJ.”
MJ Bell: “What are you doing in here?”
Out from behind the curtain she leans out to peek at Melissa. Her friend is busy wiping down the foggy mirror, ignoring the question as MJ disappears back into the shower. She finally begins to wash herself starting with her arms and chest.
MJ Bell: “Thanks again for having Jessup help me with effects for the promo. He did an awesome job... It came out how I wanted but I don't know if it'll make an impact.”
Melissa Reed: “No problem, babe. I think it'll get the reaction you wanted. I don't think I've ever seen you so chatty.”
MJ steps up onto the ledge as she washes her leg with a smile. After a few moments it vanishes while she switches legs. Her mind is clouding up with a million thoughts again. Her hands slow when scrubbing down her smooth leg, eyes growing increasingly more blank and all movement stops.
MJ Bell: “I know I've been saying this a lot lately... but I really can't afford to lose this.”
Melissa Reed: “Yeah, I know love...
"
Melissa sets her makeup bag onto the counter before pausing.
Melissa Reed: “Where did that come from?”
MJ Bell: “I don't know. I was just thinking about the match and what I'd do if I lost. I'm scared that I'll actually do something bad.”
Melissa Reed: “Like what, kiss Ian again?”
Melissa is grinning from ear to ear with that joke however MJ is rolling her eyes while she soaps up her hair.
MJ Bell: “Oh har-har. I meant actually... like.... hurting someone. You know... It took a lot out of me to not hit Katilyn with that chair. I just--”
Her voice is hurrying, a little frantic. Melissa interjects to stop MJ.
Melissa Reed: “Hey, whoa! Slow down there MJ. Even if you wanted to hurt that dumb bimbo, the fact of the matter is that you didn't, okay? You are a good person.”
When MJ finishes washing all the soap from her hair she turns the water off then reaches out to snatch her towel. Slowly she dries her hair then wraps the towel around herself and steps out of the shower. Melissa is doing her make-up.
MJ Bell: “Why are you getting all dressed up?”
Melissa Reed: “Oh, you will be getting ready too. We are going out!”
MJ Bell: “I have training to do! The match is Saturday. That only gives me two more days.”
Melissa Reed: “I am putting my foot down on this one. Have you taken a look at where we are? This is a beautiful state with beautiful men and a beautiful beach. So you know what? You are taking the day off.”
There is a childish reaction when MJ stomps her foot to the floor then storms out of the bathroom. Melissa watches this and doesn't seem to care. MJ loudly puts some clothes on making all sorts of huffs and puffs. With a swing of her body, MJ flops onto the bed.
MJ Bell: “I don't want to take the day off... I want to train today. I cannot take the day off to go... find you a booty call.”
Melissa Reed: “Either you go out with me or I'm going to call Kenshin.”
Melissa is out of the bathroom holding MJ's phone but isn't getting any movement from the red head. She shrugs her shoulders and dials the number. Melissa is mimicking MJ's voice as she speaks.
Melissa Reed: “Hey sexy. I was just thinking about you. I wanted to tell you that I'm in love with you and I was wondering if you wanted-- OOF!”
MJ tackles Melissa mid-sentence trying to wrestle her phone away. The two of them roll around the floor trying to get the phone. They are yelling at one another.
“Give me the phone!” “Go out with me or I'm calling Ian next!” “Melissa, give me the damn phone!” “No!” " Give!” “Never!” “LET GO!” “Take the day off!” “I don't want to!” “Fine, you've forced my hand!”
Melissa kicks MJ off of her and MJ tumbles backwards having little success grabbing her cell back. Melissa backs away dialing another number. With one swift movement MJ snatches a pillow and lunges at her friend but Melissa is ready for is and pushes a chair in front of her.
Melissa Reed: “Oh, hi Ian--”
MJ Bell:” FINE! Fine, you win! I'll take the day off!”
Melissa Reed: “Yay. I win!”
MJ shouts in aggravation lunging over the chair to tackle Melissa again. She sits on top of Melissa, both legs pinning her arms down, finally snatching her phone back and looks at it. To MJ's horror the phone isn't even on.
MJ Bell: “I hate you...”
MJ rolls off of Melissa laying next to her. Melissa is panting but starts laughing flailing her arms in the air like some crazy person.
Melissa Reed: “You are so in love with Ke--”
A quick jab to the side causes Melissa to roll away from MJ, still laughing but in some sort of pain. MJ sits up blowing her hair out of her face.
MJ Bell: “Grade A pain in my ass. Didn't even have the phone on... I hate you. I seriously hate you.”
Through all of this Melissa is still laughing and pretty soon MJ laughs. The two of them are soon doubling over in laughter. It is a relief to laugh again, to not feel angry or ache from working out, so MJ takes this moment. Even if it wasn't that funny of a joke.
Later, LA Gym.
“She's has been there for way too long and won't listen to me. Maybe you can talk some sense into her...”
MJ is panting heavily with each punch she throws at the swinging bag. Physically her body is worn, tired, and shaking from the hours of working out. Sweat drips down her body coating her in a wash of it. Her hair is back in a ponytail away from her face but still seems greasy. Her fist hits against the bag again as she hisses from the sudden pain resonating from her knuckles. Blood begins to leak from the bag dripping down the material before she removes her hand to inspect the damage. There are a few small cuts along with one long gash between two of her knuckles.
MJ Bell: “Fuck...”
Without missing a beat, she heads over to her bag to remove a wrap to cover up her bleeding hand. She doesn't waste a lot of time on fixing up her hand, just a simple patch before she returns to standing in front of the punching bag. Upon hitting the bag once more, a wave of pain travels up her weak arm and causes blood to stain the wrap. It doesn't stop her from finding a slow rhythm but MJ has to stop every once in a while to check the wrap. The cuts feel like they are opening up more.
MJ Bell: “Great...”
Her hazel eyes roll in a circle showing her annoyance but she stops from taking another swing. Quickly, she jogs over to collect a towel from the rack beside the wrestling ring to clean up the blood from the punching bag. MJ turns on her heels back to the bag and kneels down in front of it taking her time to wipe the blood off.
“Are you trying to wreck yourself, MJ?”
For the first time, MJ does not appear to be happy hearing Kenshin’s voice. Her head shakes from side to side and she drops her hand away from the punching bag. The bag still has a few spots of blood so MJ begins to wipe them away.
MJ Bell: “Go away, Kenshin.”
It is obvious that MJ is deeply focused on her training, but Kenshin can tell that she’s overworking herself at this point.
Kenshin Takamura: “Look, MJ, there is only so much training you can put yourself through. The fact that you’re wiping blood of that punching-bag tells the whole story.”
Takamura pauses for a moment, waiting for her to acknowledge him, but she doesn’t seem to. Those hazel eyes have a million mile stare as she scrubs the blood that is no longer there.
Kenshin Takamura: “MJ, your body is screaming at you to give it a break.”
She swallows a lump in her throat and hazel green eyes moistening but no tears free themselves. Her body is rigid, both arms lowering away from the bag with an exhausted breath leaving her lips. It didn’t matter how many times MJ attempts to explain why she doesn’t want to rest, Melissa refuses to listen. MJ knows that losing doesn’t mean she is weak but it is hard to block out everything said over the last two weeks. It’s as if she is back in the past when her brother was in the hospital, killing herself with worry. The horrible anger that is crawling through her body to the surface and suffocating her. A loss, in her mind, means failing herself. Her body wobbles when she stands up then walks over to the hamper to toss the towel away.
MJ refuses to meet Kenshin’s eyes or even look in his general location. There is a sharp pain burning from her knuckles and MJ finally takes a minute to look at it. Carefully, she removes the wrap revealing a bloody mess. Her whole body trembles but MJ ignores it and walks over to the sink to wash away the blood. While running the blood away, her facial expression is unresponsive. An emotionless cover hiding away all the swirling emotions building within her body. MJ finally speaks but her voice sounds indifferent.
MJ Bell: “I don’t have time to rest.”
That is it. The sink turns off but MJ just stands there with both hands gripping the sides of the sink, her head is down. Kenshin slowly walks toward her. By the look on his face, he’s obviously concerned about MJ’s current training habits.
Kenshin Takamura: “Yes, you do. You have been training nearly all week. It’s time to let yourself relax until Black Out. If you continue like this, you are going to burn yourself out before you can face off against Fuller. I do not want to see that happen, do you?”
As Kenshin speaks, he continues to approach her until he can reach out and rest a hand upon her slender shoulder. Slowly, he rubs her shoulder. MJ shakily inhales before she grips the sink tighter. She will not cry in front of Kenshin.
Kenshin Takamura: “Hey, it’s okay. I understand.”
MJ Bell: “I don’t know what to do….”
The shell MJ has created around herself cracks.
MJ Bell: “I feel like I can’t breathe anymore because of that-- t-that monster… I keep telling myself that if I push just a little harder that there is no way that I can lose but there is no guarantee. I can’t afford that doubt hovering over me. There shouldn’t be any doubt but I feel like I’m...”
Her voice cracks, a shallow gasp and she covers her mouth with her hand. MJ jerks away from Kenshin walking straight towards her bag again. A burst of energy blocks the fatigue that is ailing her body as she furiously digs through her stuff. Concern plagues Kenshin face. He doesn’t know whether he should follow her or let her be, but as he watches her from afar, he decides it is only right to show her his concern for her.
Kenshin Takamura: “Madeline…”
He addresses her by her actual name as he steps over to her, resting both of his hands on her slender shoulders this time. MJ flinches but doesn't jerk away from him this time.
Kenshin Takamura: “I know her hurt you. He is a sick individual, but I believe in you. I believe you can defeat him, but if you work yourself this hard, you are going to hurt yourself more than he could ever hurt you.”
Kenshin turns her around to face him, trying to look her in the eye, but she doesn’t seem to want to look at him. Instead of trying to catch her gaze, he opts to just embrace her. Pulling her into his arms, he rubs her back and presses his chin against the top of her head thanks to his height advantage on her.
Kenshin Takamura: “It’s okay…”
MJ has no more fight left in her at this point. At least with Melissa, she could yell to get her to go away, but with Kenshin she couldn’t. The two of them had shared almost everything with each other even if they hadn’t known on another very long. He had become her go-to person. When she couldn’t talk to Melissa then she would turn to Kenshin. Tears stream down her cheeks, her breath hitching in her throat every time she tries to breathe but she doesn’t fight against him. MJ just leans all her weight against Kenshin, allowing him to support her. All nerves for the match, all the fear from the memories of her past, and all the anger building up from the doubt starts receding. She turns her head to the side looking at nothing in particular as the tears slowly stop.
MJ Bell: “I’m tired.”
A chuckle escapes Kenshin’s mouth at the random proclamation of her being tired, he kisses the top of her head. A small smile spreads across her lips.
Kenshin Takamura: “I bet you are. You have been at it for a while now. How about we go back to the hotel and get some rest? We both need it since we have some huge matches ahead of us.”
MJ Bell: “I love that idea…”
MJ takes a step back from him to go gather her things up. It's amazing how easily he can turn her mood. Now, MJ can feel how tired she truly is. Her body hurts but her head isn't aching anymore. Kenshin waits for at that door and MJ hurries to catch up with him. Her arm goes around his waist and he slips his arm around her shoulder as they head out to their vehicles.