Once upon a time, I wanted children. I wanted them badly. The thought of going the rest of my life without having someone to carry on the family name devastated me. As the years wore on, however, bit by bit I realized that maybe I’m just not cut out to be a mother.

That thought runs through my mind even more now, sitting here in my once quiet living room, trying to thumb through the small amount of paperwork I have pertaining to my father’s estate – While Joe’s daughter laughs and plays on the other side of the room. For a split second, I glance up at her, and instead of being glad she’s happy here – I’m angry.

I’m so God damned angry that she’s blissfully unaware of what it’s like to have a father that hates her. I’m jealous that she’s loved. I’m devastated that she’s got everything that I never had the chance to have… And I’m pissed off that I have to deal with it right now because I’m not the best person to be around lately… Or ever for that matter.

I reach up and touch the black wedding band, hanging from a chain around my neck – trying to get my mind back on track… Trying to figure out who Micheal is or if he’s even real. Is he just a figment of my psychotic mother’s imagination? And if he is real – what he could possibly want with me or Kyra. Michael.. Michael who? Michael…

…

CJ had two children. Neither of them with me. Both of them died before their time. Hope, taken from CJ in a car accident, the same accident that killed his first wife – and Riko, a little Japanese boy that idolized the ground that CJ walked on, taken by cancer not very long after CJ adopted him.

I sniffle, shaking my head.

At least he doesn’t have to miss them anymore.

“What’s that?”

A little voice startles me out of my thoughts as I nearly jump up off the floor, only to realize it’s Lizzy, standing in front of me, pointing at the ring in my hand. I sigh and tuck the ring back under the neckline of my shirt, my eyes shifting away from her and back down to the papers spread out in front of me.

“Nothing, sweetie.”

“Are you crying?”

She asks almost immediately, and I can feel her little eyes practically boring a hole into my forehead – Wanting an answer, any answer that will appease her curiosity.

“No, just tired.”

I reach up and wipe at my eyes, feigning a yawn. Yeah, tired. That’s it.

How am I supposed to get anything done like this? And where in the hell is Joe?

“When is Daddy supposed to be back?”

He left?

Why don’t I remember where he went?

I finally bring my face up to look into Lizzy’s eyes and I shrug my shoulders.

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you go play, huh? I’ll see where Daddy is, okay?”

She nods her head and runs off towards the guest bedroom I decorated to be hers while she’s here. Joe wanted to do something special for her and I’m guessing he employed my help to get my mind off of everything.

So I played along, took the project onto myself – Mostly so I could be alone – and I ‘enjoyed’ myself while doing it so that he could feel good about ‘helping’ me.

But really, how’s decorating a kid’s bedroom supposed to help me feel better when there could be someone out there, ready to pick up where my father left off? How is painting a couple of walls pink supposed to help me deal with CJ’s death?

I’m at my fucking breaking point, but sure – Let’s play homemaker.

That’ll fix everything.

I sigh and grab my phone from my pocket, staring at the blank screen for a few moments – knowing I should just text Joe and see when he’s gonna be back. Instead, I lay the phone down on the table and put my head down beside it, listening to Lizzy playing in the bedroom. Much to my relief, the noise is nowhere near as annoying as it was just a few minutes ago.

I hate this.

I hate feeling so bitter.

I hate feeling so God damned lost every second of every day.

It’s not Lizzy’s fault my life is constantly falling apart at the seams. It’s not her fault that I’m notorious for being completely unable to handle shit like this.

None if it is her fault, so I sit up and shoot off a quick text to Joe – Asking him when he’ll be back and then I go back to sifting through this paperwork. There’s not much here, in all honesty. I feel like I’ve been at it for days, reading page after page – Looking for any mention of someone named ‘Michael’, but there’s nothing.

Either my father is really good at hiding things, or Michael just doesn’t exist.

Finally, I just shove the papers away and drag myself up onto the sofa. I reach down into my pocket, bringing out a folded piece of paper with my name scribbled on the front and I just stare at it as I bring my knees up to my chest. I don’t want to read it – Not again. As it is, the words he wrote in there play over and over again in my head- and everytime they do – I just want to cry.

“What’s that?”

I gasp and stuff the note back into my pocket, as if I were just caught with something much more sinister in my possession. I look towards the edge of the couch to see Lizzy standing there, a curious look on her innocent little face and I shake my head.

“Jesus Christ, kid.. You gotta stop doing that.”

I shake my head again, raking my hands through my unbrushed hair.

“It’s-It’s nothing. Just a note.”

She doesn’t respond right away, a thoughtful expression on her face. She must think I’ve gone fucking crazy.

“Daddy says you’re sad cuz your friend went to heaven.”

My eyes widen, and suddenly my mouth feels as dry as the sahara desert.

“I- Uh, yeah. Yeah. But I’ll be okay.”

Sure, Lucy… Lie to the kid.

“Is that why you’re looking through all them papers?”

She asks, motioning towards the pile of junk on the coffee table.

“Listen, that’s–”

None of your business.. Just go back to your room until your dad comes back.. I don’t want to field twenty questions right now.

I shake my head once more.

“No, I’m just trying to find someone that my dad knew.”

I lean forward on the couch, gathering up the papers and putting them back into the folder that they came out of. Jesus Christ..

“You can’t find them?”

I close my eyes and bite my lip.  Am I that obvious?

“…No.”

“Maybe you should go see your daddy and ask.”

I slowly turn my head to look at her, wondering what the fuck she’s thinking.

What am I supposed to go ask a corpse?

How the hell is that supposed to–

As I open my mouth to speak, it’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head. Go and see him..

“Maybe – maybe you’re right, Lizzy.”

 

The scene opens on Lucy Wylde, sitting backstage in her locker room – Her wrestling gear laying on the bench beside her.  She’s hunched over, elbows on knees – Her striking blue eyes staring directly into the lens. 

“I remember a time when Eden Morgan and Lucy Wylde was a marquee match.   A match that wouldn’t be squandered on a Synergy, but the times, they are a-changing, huh?   But here we are.  Midcard.  Synergy.”

She sighs, bringing a hand up to her forehead, running her fingers through her (mostly) blonde hair before letting that hand fall back down into her lap. 

“I guess we could blame our opponent for this.. downgrade.  But if I know you, Edie – I’m sure you’ve got something else up your sleeve.  Because let’s be honest, you’re Eden Morgan.  It couldn’t possibly be your fault because you’re you, and you’ve accomplished so much around here.  If I know you as well as I think I do, it probably isn’t the other guys fault either.”

Lucy shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry, I just can’t say that name.  I’m sure you understand.  But anyway.  It’s probably not his fault either, you know, because he’s always in the midcard, or lower.  There’s no way he could have drug you down this far just because.  If anything, your mere presence would have boosted him to heights that he could have never imagined.”

A sarcastic smirk crosses Lucy’s lips as she sits back and crosses her legs. 

“Which leaves me.  And since you’re Eden fucking Morgen, of course you’re gonna blame me for the spot we’re in this week.  Last years Wrestlestock winner turned loser.  What happened to me, am I right?  Am I even the same Lucy Wylde that faced you before you died?”

That last word stops Lucy in her tracks.  She pauses for a few moments, tearing her eyes away from the camera – Looking around the room.  Finally, she lets out a deep sigh. 

“The answer is no.  No I’m not.”

Lucy rings out her hands. 

“But if you’re gonna put me on the spot for you being in the midcard on Synergy this week, fuck you Bitch.  I’ve been a giant pile of dog shit lately, yes… But come on.   You don’t think it’s even got a little bit to do with the fuckface we’ve gotta share the spotlight with this week?  I’m sorry, but I just can’t get behind the idea that’s it’s all me.   The Lucy of old probably would have accepted it and beat herself up over it.  Or she would’ve made a promise to show you and everyone who doubts her that she’s better than they think she is.”

She chuckles. 

“Come to think of it, I think we’ve had that kind of conversation more than once back when we weren’t as friendly, Edie.”

Looking down at her hands, the smirk falls off of her lips. 

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not that stupid anymore.  Don’t get me wrong, I am going to show ya’ll that it’s sure as hell not me.  But I’m not gonna do it by being the righteous, decent Lucy you all have come to know.  That time has passed and let’s just say life has stepped in and changed the way I feel about certain things.”

She stops once more, her hand moving to her pocket, grazing over it as if she were checking for something.  Once she’s satisfied that the item is still there, she continues. 

“The world knows that Eden Morgan and Lucy Wylde can put on a match of the year whenever they damn well please.  As for what’s his face?  He beat Carlson the other week, but I don’t think that’s much of an accomplishment, right?   You two might think you know what you’re in for, stepping in there with me tonight.  It’s no secret that I’ve always been kind of predictable.  I’ve upheld a certain code that’s made me an easy target for people who like to step outside the rules.  Kinda like you, Eden.”

She winks. 

“Believe me when I say though, that I’m gonna do whatever it takes to win.  Whatever it takes because I need this more than either of you do, that much is obvious.  Eden, you’ll lose, but you’ll be right back where you’re accustomed to being in no time because as you love to remind me – You’re the woman who blazed the path that I currently walk on.  There’s no denying that.  And Wrestleface?  God I hate that name… To me, you’re just a nobody who’s here to make Eden and I look good.   But me?  I’ve got a message to send, and it’s unfortunate that it’s gotta be you, Eden… But it is what it is.  We’ll go out there, we’ll fight and then we’ll move on with our lives and we’ll still be friends.”

“It’s just what we do.”

She shrugs again.

“I’m tired of being the Lucy that everyone knows.  I’m tired of finishing last because I’m unwilling to think outside the box.  It’s like CJ has always said, ‘Changes come‘.   Well, guys…”

She glares up into the lens, a mischievous smile on her lips. 

“Change is here.  And change don’t give a shit about what’s right or what’s wrong.  Not anymore.“

Lucy finishes her sentence and stares at the camera for a few seconds longer before standing and walking out of frame.  A door can be heard slamming behind her as the scene fades out to black.