A Nice Day For A White Wedding

[Roxy Cotton]

A NICE DAY FOR A WHITE WEDDING

Part One: Angelica & Millisandre

Angelica’s room 

White House Inn 

Bangor, Maine

Regret wasn’t something that Angelica felt often. She had learned to take certain leaps of faith, had learned to always look to the future and never regret things that happened in the past. In this business, you kind of had to, since failure always lurked around the corner. Despite Angelica’s recent successes, there were still occasions where she had to pick herself up, dust herself off, and simply keep going without letting her failed attempts get to her. Getting pinned by Bordy certainly was one such occasion where she couldn’t get the job done. Despite the woman’s constant taunting, her holier-than-thou attitude and infantile name-calling she had still gotten the better of her in the ring. But it was already in the past. Only the future counted. And it looked bright indeed.  

But still, cooped up in her room at the White House Inn in Bangor, Angelica did feel a pang of regret over leaving Lacklanland behind. It was scary how quickly you got used to such levels of comfort and having a bunch of sl-... servants around. But worse than that, she kind of missed her friends and after being around them for so long it certainly felt lonely. Thank goodness her cats were always there to keep her company, but sometimes not even her little fluff balls of awesomeness could stop her from missing her friends, even though they still kept in regular contact and saw each other fairly often. But she had taken a decision to find a place of her own and she was going to follow through. She’d been scouring all over the state of Maine to find a place to live and while Bangor seemed nice enough, none of it truly felt like ‘home’. Money wasn’t exactly an issue, since she was doing quite well for herself and cashing in lucrative checks from all the companies she worked for, on top of her cut of the merchandise sales that were going surprisingly well. Her popularity was on the rise, her name was rather well-known throughout the industry and things didn’t look like they were about to slow down. With the upcoming Lord of Trios finals for UGWC, Angelica had taken a small break from house-hunting and locked herself up in her room. It was nice and cozy, the stove set to max to keep the cold out. Almost the entire room was made out of wood: the wall panels, the floor, the bedside tables were basically tree stumps and even the bedframe was little more than polished tree trunks shimmering in the lights of the overhead chandelier that was made of moose antlers (hopefully fake ones). Portraits on the walls depicted wild animals in scenes of nature: a bear scratching his back against a tree, r a stag standing atop a hill and looking out over his territory. The sofa was one of the few things not made out of wood. Shiny crimson leather seats hugged the wall, but Angelica preferred the comfiness of the bed, resting on the red-and-black squared sheets that matched the curtains she’d closed halfway.  

The reason for that was that the rays of sunlight shining through the windows fell right onto the widescreen television embedded in the wooden walls. And she’d been watching replays of their first Lord of Trios bout (thank God for CoolTube) in an effort to spot the weaknesses in their teamwork, but even though they had ended up victorious, watching the replays put Angelica in a bad mood. Not because she was disappointed in the outcome or because of her own efforts, but rather because of the manner in which they’d booked their place in the semi’s. Angelica prided herself on her sportsmanship. She always played fair and cheating was not in her vocabulary. She believed in doing things the right way, since taking shortcuts and taking the easy road diminished your accomplishments. The same, however, couldn’t be said for her tag team partners. She didn’t know if Milisandre cared much, she often seemed to be devoid of any kind of emotion unless she’d filled herself up with booze, but Roxy especially seemed to take pride in taking the low road. Angelica considered them both to be her dear friends, but it still bugged her. The interference caused by Roxy’s bodyguard Maxine (who was now also her Cincy Hitgirls teammate), had unmistakably shifted the tide in their favor. As a result, any pride and joy that Angelica might have felt after their victory had gone down the drain, because she was very well aware of how this looked in the eyes of the crowd and how it would help shape public opinion. The name ‘Cool Kids’ was reviled enough already. Things like this didn’t particularly help and she was certain that their opponents, The Avengers, considered them to be cheaters who had cheated to win. Kenzi always told her not to let the opinions of others shape her; and her friend had a very good point. But she wasn’t really upset because other people might think they hadn’t deserved their victory, it was because that was her opinion too. Angelica was 100% certain that if they had stuck to the rules, been sporting and hadn’t relied on outside interference, they would’ve come out on top as well. But alas, it was impossible to prove that now and she was certain that her future opponents considered the Cool Kids to be a ‘dirty’ team at this point. And honestly? She couldn’t really blame them. It was up to her to not just change their opinion but also put her own conscience at ease. But how was she going to convince the others? The ones on her team? The ones who stood in her corner?  

Angie got up from the bed. Ser Bobby looked up from his snoozing session as the mattress shifted but was just as quick to put his head back between his paws and continue to snore. She paused the action on the screen, cutting one of the announcers off mid-sentence and started to pace the room, the wooden floorboard creaking under the tall legs of the five foot ten blonde. Ser Alex, her other cat who had been napping on the sofa looked up at the noise and stared at his mommy, his green eyes tracking her as she walked back and forth. Angelica noticed and decided that as she was in lack of any real conversation partner, her cat would have to do. It was one step removed from being a full blown crazy cat lady, but it seemed pretty obvious she was going to end up as one anyway. Best to embrace it, rather than deny it. 

”I don’t get it,” Angelica began. The ears of the Scottish Fold perked up slightly to better listen. Whether he actually understood it or not is something we can leave in the middle. ”They’re my friends! They’re always so nice to me! I mean, Mili sure likes to act like she doesn’t care about anything but I know she has my back whenever i need her and vice versa. People make fun of her and they mock her for this weird tentacle thing, which I don’t really understand, I’m certain that she’d go to the ends of the Earth with me if I asked, even if her face indicates she has the emotional range of a wet sandwich. And that’s not even a dig at her. It’s who she is, and I understand. But sometimes i’d just like her to be more enthusiastic, you know? The only time she seems to show some emotion is when Roxy is riling her up again or when Miss Grey is harassing her about paying the rent. I just wish she’d stand up for what’s right sometimes, you know? Make people actually see how great a person she is. I want the rest of the world to see her like I see her, but she’s not making it very easy. But I mean,you can’t kick empathy into someone, or I would! But she sometimes just… doesn’t seem to care about doing the right thing. You know?”  

It was as rhetorical a question as you could ask, not in the least because the only one there to hear it was feline.  

”I mean, she’s introverted. I get that. But how does that saying go again? There is no greater evil than the indifference of good men? Well, women in this case. I wish I could drag it out of her, but she puts up these near impenetrable walls. I mean, she can be mean I guess… But to be honest, she would never lash out at someone who didn’t deserve it. I just worry that all this anger inside of her is bottled up. Hopefully she can direct at the right people…” 

In this case, those people would be Paragon first, and then (if they made it through) either The Court or Reign In Blood. All three teams were forces to be reckoned with and Angelica knew that if they became the next Lord of Trios, it could very well be one of the proudest accomplishments of her career. She absolutely did NOT want it to be overshadowed by accusations of cheating and cheap tactics. 

”I just know that we can do this the right way. Mili is really good, I’ve been getting better ever since I’ve stepped into the ring for the first time and Roxy is quite possibly one of the best wrestlers I’ve ever seen. And for all her boasting, I don’t think she quite realizes that. It’s like she WANTS to be bad, you know? Like she WANTS to cheat because she likes it. She has the potential to win clean but she just seems to take so much joy out of making her opponents mad. It totally skews other people’s perceptions of her. Again, I don't think she really gives a damn but I think it’s a shame. She can be a… wonderful person, I guess.” 

‘Wonderful’ isn’t exactly what many people would use to describe Roxy, but Angelica had seen her kindness first-hand when her bubblegum blonde bombshell friend had dug her out of quite the emotional hole. She looked up to Roxy in a way, because she was a woman who was absolutely unapologetic actually knew what she wanted. She never seemed to lack confidence, never seemed to doubt herself or anything she did. She looked like she had purpose, a goal, and knew how to get there. It was admirable in many ways and Angelica sometimes wished that she had half as much self-confidence as Roxy had. There were many qualities she possessed that Angelica admired, maybe even was envious of. But… Sarah didn’t like her. Mili darn near hated her. Only Kenzi seemed to be fond of her, and very few other people shared that sentiment. It was typical of humans to focus on the negative things of course. Angelica chose to focus on the positive. It’s possibly why she got on well with such a wide variety of people. 

Angie stopped pacing the room. Ser Alex’ eyes stopped moving as well and he rested his chin on his paw, still looking at his mom. 

”I just… I gotta talk to her about this! Make her see that having Maxine there at ringside, having her bodyguard help us cheat our way to victory isn’t the way forward! Surely she must realize eventually that stuff like that will taint her entire legacy! People have to realize that she’s actually as good as she says she is!” 

Unfortunately, Angelica also knew what Roxy would probably say in response. ‘Don’t mind the basics’. ‘They’re not even #CLEAR’. Stuff like that. She sighed in frustration. How was she ever going to get through to her? She made a mental note to shoot her a text message later. They had to talk about this face to face and preferably as soon as possible. Trios was coming up and they had to be on the same page or else they would implode as a team. And too much was riding on this. 

Angelica woke up from her daydreams from a start when her phone buzzed. On the wooden bedside tree stump-turned-table it made a whole lot of noise and she rushed over to pick it up. It kept buzzing in her hand, but it wasn’t a phone call, just a Direct Message over Twitter. She was pretty surprised to see who’d sent it.  

’Mili?’ 

She didn’t often reach out like this. Usually you didn’t hear from her unless you kept poking her and even then it was hard to really get an answer out of her. But nevertheless, the surprise was rather pleasant. She tapped the envelope icon and it quickly opened. 

”Hey Ang I know you like only just left but could you swing by, like, tomorrow or something? Sarah said you were still in Maine, so… Got something important I wanna ask and I kinda, like, gotta do it face to face I guess…”

  

Angelica wondered what on Earth it could be that made Mil ask her to come over. They’d been living together for months and not once had she gotten a message to ask if she wanted to hang out in her room. But of course with Trios coming up they were going to have to stick together. Maybe she wanted to discuss strategy, or maybe something else was bugging her. In any case, this was a clear indication something needed to be addressed and Angie was all too happy to help Mili get her head straight if she could. 

So she sent back an emphatic ’Totes!’ and put her phone back down again. She was going to have to cancel a house visit, but that was a small sacrifice to make. Friends were more important. 

Milisandre’s room 

Lacklan Manor 

Lacklanland, Maine

Milisandre Crowthorne laid on her bed, head hanging off of the foot of it. She watched the newest addition to her room, her Two Spotted Octopus she lovingly named Lovecraft, play with some of the puzzles in his tank. A rare smile made its way onto her face. She was alone in her room in the Lacklandland Manor, her second favorite way to be. Her most favorite, obviously, was when her fiance Bruce was there with her. But with him being Head of Security for Lacklanland, behind the weird masked entity simply known to Mil as Redmaine, he was usually very busy. 

She reached down to the floor and picked up the bottle of beer she had sat there. She lifted it up and, impressively to an empty room, took a drink from it without sitting up. She carefully set the bottle back down and closed her eyes. She had a big match coming up soon-ish. She had the rest of the Lord of Trios Tournament in UGWC. Possibly, likely, two big matches in one night. Two matches away from winning a tournament with her friend and a dumb bimbo. 

At least she liked one of them. 

She sighed as opened her eyes. “I hope this goes by quick.” Her eyes locked back onto Lovecraft and that smile returned. She was so happy Sarah let her have the rather large aquarium added to her room. She had always wanted a pet octopus and now she could finally afford one. She hated the shit she caught for having him though. She loved her friends like family. But the whole hentai/tentacle fetish they keep insisting she has is wearing thin. So what if she was a bit obsessed with Cthulhu and the other works of H.P. Lovecraft? That doesn’t mean she wants to get fucked by tentacles. That’s just weird. Too weird for her to be honest. 

Lovecraft finally solved the puzzle he was working on and received the prize of a couple of shrimp. He ate them quickly and then shot off across the aquarium to the little cave he had taken up as his main hiding hole. He impressively and effortlessly squeezed himself into the small hole and disappeared from sight. Mil knew that it would take a bit for him to warm up to her and she just chuckled as he vanished. 

With another sigh she finally sat up and turned to sit on the foot of her bed. She swayed for a moment having sat up to fast and drinking in the position she had spent most of her day in. Once the room stopped spinning she grabbed the beer from the floor and finished it off. She got up and walked to her mini bar and tossed the empty into the trash and got herself another one. Angie was coming over in a bit and Mil was a bit nervous that she might not agree with what she had to ask her. 

Her wedding was looming before her. Sure, it wasn’t until the middle of June but she still was nervous about it. She was actually going to get married. Something she thought she would never do. But here she was, about three months out from actually doing it. Kenzi had jumped at the chance to repay her for planning her and Sarah’s wedding. Which was a HUGE weight off of her shoulders. Sarah, her maid of honor, was helping her with the dress, since Sarah’s fashion sense was miles ahead of Mil’s. She had asked Sativa to be the ring bearer when her and her new girlfriend, Cora Sorlie, came to visit and let the rest of the #CoolKids know about their relationship. Mainly for Kenzi who was hung up on Sativa’s dead husband and how much they were supposed to be in love forever and stuff. Mil didn’t care, to be honest. Her friend was happy in the wake of a tragedy.   

Sativa, whose real name was Mary, had different beliefs than that of Kenzi, Sarah, and Ang. Kenz was a Scientologist, and Sarah and Ang were devout Christians. Mary was, well, she was her. She believed that things happen for a reason but without some grand figure pulling strings. Like the universe will lead you where you need to go. That lined up with Mil’s beliefs pretty well. If she had to pin herself with a set one them, it would be Wiccan. ‘Do what you want, but don't harm anyone.’ So when Mary showed up with a pettie flame haired woman on her arm and announced that they were dating, Mil took it in stride. After their big fiasco with Kenz and Sarah Mil was able to talk to Mary and ask her to be part of her wedding.   

She was hesitant to ask though, what with Mary losing her husband recently. But she was all smiles and happiness which put Mil at ease. And Cora was excited as well, even have just met Mil and Bruce that day. She was almost the polar opposite of Mil. Which normally would have set her on edge but Cora’s bubbly constantly happy personality was a bit infectious. 

Mil was brought out of her head with a knock on her door. She shook her head and looked at the clock. It was probably Angie. “Come on in!” Mil finished the bottle of beer she had been drinking while standing at her mini-bar and tossed it into the trash as Angelica Vaughn came into her room. Mil grabbed herself another bottle and came out from behind the bar to receive the hug she new her every happy friend would be antsy to give her. 

Angie didn’t disappoint and engulfed Mil is a massive hug, almost choking the smaller brunette. Mil, with all the talent and grace of a professional waitress held her hand out, careful not to shake her beer too much and spill it. Because that would be alcohol abuse after all. “Hey Ang. Glad you could make it.” 

“of course Mili! To be honest I was kinda surprised you asked me here. I know we have had our movie nights together. Which I LOVE, despite how scary some of the movies you like are. But, I was totes shocked and happy!”

“Yeah, well, like I said in my message, I have something, like, super important to ask you..” 

“I know! I’ve been totes excited thinking about what it could be!”

“Lets, like, sit down and stuff.” Mil leads Ang over to the couch she has in her room. On the way she opens the beer, tossing the cap into the trash without even looking, and takes a drink. 

“You really could be a totes amazing quarterback for the Hit Girls Mil.”

“Na, I just have the lay out of my room memorized. Helps for not tripping over things when I’m drunk.” Ang silently wondered how much it would take to get her friend that drunk. She had seen her put away quite the amount of alcohol and not even flinch. The pair sat down and Mil put her beer on the coffee table. “So, like, you know that Bruce and I are getting married in June, and stuff.” 

“Totes! I am so excited and can’t wait for it!”

“Well, like, Sarah is going to be my maid of honor, cause she is totally my best friend. But, I was wondering, well, actually hoping, that you would, like, be a bridesmaid?” 

Angie stares at her friend and teammate in awed silence for a few moments. She then let out an ear piercing squeal of excitement before wrapping Mil in another massive embrace.”I would totes be honored to Mili!!”

Mil smiled and patted her friend on the back, waiting for the hug to be over. “Thanks Ang. That, like, totally finishes out the majority of the wedding plans that I am part of. Kenz is handling most of it. But, like, I had to get my wedding party choices done. Which, you agreeing finished that off. Sativa is going to be the ring bearer for us. Since we don’t have, like, any children for it or whatever. She was super excited to be a part of it. Which was another weight off.” 

“So what is Roxy gonna be doing then?”

“Uh, well…’ Mil rubbed the back of her neck nervously, “She is invited. Not much for her really.” Mil picke dup her beer and took a drink from it. 

“Oh, okay. Hey, my phone is charging, mind texting Roxy so we can meet up and talk about the upcoming matches? Work on strategy again?”

Mil rolls her eyes. “Ugh, fine.” Mil gets up and grabs her phone from off of her bed. She opens up her messages and scrolls through the contacts for Roxy’s info. She finally stops when she sees ‘Ditzy Bimbo’ She opens a new message and is about to start typing when Ang appears by her side and grabs the phone. 

“We should totes send her a selfie!” She throws her arm around Mil’s shoulder and leans down a bit and takes a picture and sends it off. Mil is quick to grab her phone back from Ang. She didn’t want her scrolling through her pictures. There were some there she didn’t need to see. Mil makes her way back to the couch, eyes glued to her phone and missing anything that would trip her up. She sits down and grabs her beer while typing a message.

Milisandre 

So, like, Ang thinks we need to meet up and talk about the upcoming event and stuff. So, like, we will meet you in L.A. and stuff. 

Mil sends the message and finishes her beer. She stands and heads back to her mini bar, tossing the empty into the trash. “You want something to drink Ang?” The tall blonde smiles and shakes her head. 

“No thank you Mili, I’m fine.”

“Ok.” Mil gets herself another beer and opens it. Taking a drink while making her way back to the couch to join Ang again she looks at her phone. “Ugh, Rox is so inconsiderate. She hasn’t responded yet.” 

Milisandre 

So, like, Ang and I will head on out to L.A. Figure we can, like, get some drinks and discuss things. Meet us at the Frolic Room later. Ang will text you the time when we land or whatever. 

“Alright. I told her we should get together and stuff. We should probably head out and on a flight out there. Gave her a place to meet us at. Hopefully she will show. Once we get there, you can, like, text her the time to meet us and stuff.” Mil finishes her beer quickly. The pair get up and head out of the room. 

Part Two: Angelica

Somewhere above
the countryside
Flying high in the sky

The white noise of the plane had lulled Mili to sleep. Or maybe it had been the effects of the 3 pints of beer she’d had while they’d waited to board, but in any case she had dozed off and Angie was left alone with her thoughts. She’d gotten lucky, the aisle seat next to her was unoccupied so she didn’t have to worry about any annoying passengers who were looking to hog the arm rest. Angie looked over at her team mate again. Her head was resting against the side of the plane, peacefully asleep. Angie got a spontaneous smile on her face. The question she got asked earlier had probably been one of the most emotional moments in her life. Being asked to be a bridesmaid was certainly a sign that Mil not just liked her, but respected her and trusted her. Even in an industry where weddings happened almost every week, it was the first time Angie had been asked to shoulder this kind of burden. And while it wasn’t THE most important ceremonial position, it was better than nothing. 

Marriage was sacred in Angelica’s eyes. That’s what her religion taught her. Till Death do us part. Through the good times and the bad. Angelica loved weddings. Her parents were married too, but they had gotten married well before Angelica had been born, or so she’d been told. Whenever Angelica had asked for pictures or anything of the sort, her father had sternly reprimanded her, saying that marriage was about committing yourself to your loved one in the eyes of God, not to take pictures and flaunt it around like a prostitute behind a glass window. So Angelica had never seen marriage pictures of her parents, who had managed to even make the most joyous of ceremonies seem boring. Nevertheless, Angelica had always romanticized it: glorious white dresses, huge bouquets of flowers, friends and family there to witness the love you had for your significant other. The wedding between Sarah and Kenzi was probably one of the most memorable things she’d ever been part of. But despite the fact that she’d caught Kenzi’s bouquet, it was Milisandre who was going to take the leap next. Heck, Angelica didn’t even have a boyfriend yet! But for now, she was more than happy to take a back seat and let her friends enjoy their time in the spotlight. She just hoped that when the time came, Mili wouldn’t live-tweet it all the way through. Because… who DOES that, right? 

Plenty of people, Twitter had taught her. But in Angelica’s eyes, those kind of people got married for the wrong reasons, doing it more for the attention it brought than to actually declare your love in front of God. She knew Mili’s religious beliefs were a bit… odd… but she still knew she did it for all the right reasons. 

Now, on their way to Roxy in LA to address both their gameplan and Angelica’s concerns in regards to her hulking bodyguard, Angelica was simply hoping that Mil and Roxy would play nice together. They had darn near come to blows last time they’d seen each other and Angelica hoped she could find SOME way to make them reconcile their differences. It was pretty telling that Mili had exhausted her entire circle of friends to try and give them all some kind of ceremonial position during her wedding, but Roxy was the only one who wasn’t given… 

*DING* 

A bell rang inside her head. Yes, she knew what she had to do! Roxy would actually be the perfect bridesmaid for Mili! If she could convince Mili to let Roxy take her place as bridesmaid, Rox would surely ease up on her and Mili would no longer have a reason to hate her. Meaning… they could finally be a cohesive unit!  

Yes, it was the perfect plan, she thought as the seatbelt signs turned on ,signalling their descent. 

But even the best laid plans go awry... 

Part Three: Roxy



Roxy's Living Quarters
The Pink Palisades
Malibu, California

When Roxy enters into her impressive walk-in closet, she becomes enveloped by a rainbow of colors on the finest fabrics available. Exotic draperies for her body that most women would only dare to fantasize about owning. Hundreds of dresses line the walls, many only ever having been worn once, to some special event or another, then left to dangle from a hanger as nothing more than a thousand dollar memory. Purples overshadow the rest, though there are exceptions. Reds to stand out in a crowd. Blacks for funerals or other more formal affair. Pinks to match her man when need be. Even the occasional earth tone pokes its face out among the satin and lace. What Roxy fingers her way through the racks to find, however, is bright white.  

She stands in the middle of the closet, surrounded on all sides by her expensive garments, clad only in a terry cloth towel barely inching over her large bosom and just low enough to cover her sex. The rest of her tan and toned body is stretched onto tip toe, nearly mimicking the six inch stilettos she finds herself in more often than not, as she peers among the dresses.  

"No... no..."  

She slips them away with barely a glance, not finding the one that eludes her. Blue is tossed aside. Green. Peach. Grey. The metallic screech of hanger on rack is nearly constant as she flings them away.  

"No... damn it, no..."  

Hermes is tossed out of the way. Gucci. Dior. Burberry. Ralph Lauren. Versace. Chanel. None of them are more than blips on Roxy's radar, momentary annoyances as she continues to sift through the racks, her fingers flipping dresses to the side like pages of a well-read book. Finally, near a corner, she stops. Her breath catches in her throat as if startled, and her bare feet press down to the hardwood flooring.  

"There you are. Perfect. Finally."  

She reaches in and pulls out a dress as white as snow. Somewhat surprisingly, the gown isn't a gaudy one. No pounds of diamonds encrusted in the taffeta, no twenty-foot-long train. The silk glows almost from its own splendor, but the dress itself is an understated number. A simple mini dress, strapless, with a plunging backline nearly to the waist. Roxy smiles, the glow of her teeth matching the fabric in her arms. She carries the dress out of the walk-in closet nearly reverently, like she were carrying a newborn child from a nursery. As she approaches her new makeup vanity in the corner of her bedroom, she is careful to avoid snags from the bedposts or nearby desks. Finally, she hangs the dress from a hook next to the large vanity mirror and sits in the purple-upholstered chair in front of it, looking up at it like a supplicant adoring her messiah.  

She clicks on the mirror lights. An inverted horseshoe shaped looking glass brightens with the dozen delicate bulbs growing in intensity and washing away every hint of shadow from Roxy's face. As she peers into the glass and flutters her long eyelashes, she opens a tray of cosmetics, finding a dusting brush and twirling it between her thumb and index finger to cover it in a light bronze powder. She raises the brush to her cheek, just to touch up the already existing makeup in place. But she pauses then. Her hand hovers in midair as the stares at herself, blinking into the lights, dazzled by the tiny, reflected lens flares in her emerald irises. She blinks it away and raises the brush again – but once again stops.  

"What's even under there anymore?"  

The voice from her own mouth startles her. The sound was nearly childlike, lacking any hint of the sizzling confidence that Roxy had become known for. The voice was innocent and plaintive. Soft.  

"Who are you anymore? Who were you ever?"  

She drops the brush onto the desk, and a halo of bronze powder speckles the white paint of the desktop. Roxy leans forward and stares into her own eyes, blinking back at herself. In an almost trance-like state she reaches for a tube of alcohol wipes and pulls one out from the dispenser. She brings the sheet to her face and presses it against her forehead, then rubs it in a circle. When she pulls it away, a large orange-ish spot blots the tissue and the skin of Roxy's forehead in the place she had wiped it is considerably lighter. Roxy's eyes widen in shock. She gasps. Her hand begins to shake, but she brings the wipe back to her face and starts to clean away wide swaths of cosmetics from her skin. The purple shadows above her eyes vanish, revealing light, white skin. Her thick, contoured eyebrows are eroded down to natural arcs of light hair over each eye. When she drops the first tissue down, covered in makeup, onto the tabletop, the face in the mirror is divided into hemispheres. On the right, the Roxy Cotton that holds her championship belt high above her head night after night is there, just like always. On the left, is someone else. Someone with a smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Someone with delicate skin with a hue of red rushing up from below the surface to color her cheeks with bashful panic. Someone covered for years.  

"Hello... are you okay under there? How are you?"  

The green irises of Roxy's eyes dilate as she speaks in a shaky voice to her reflection. She uses the second tissue in her hand to begin cleaning away the makeup on the right side of her face. Soon enough the mask is peeled away and the only face remaining in the mirror is drastically different from the one on trading cards and magazine covers. Suddenly, a girl much younger than her station in life would suggest is left to smile at herself in the cold glass, and she even raises a hand in a wave, before becoming conscious of the absurdity of the gesture and pulling her arm down quickly to her lap, clasping her hands together in an anxious wringing.  

"It's been a long time. I... I didn't mean to ever put you away forever. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. I know you've been through enough. I'm... happy to see you. To see that you're... alive."  

Roxy bites her lip, now devoid of liner and gloss. The tender pink skin whitens under the pressure of her front teeth, and she looks down into her clasped hands before continuing.  

"I was thinking of you today, because I'm finally going to wear the dress we bought back home. Do you remember? When we said we'd grow up and be a princess? Have a royal wedding and make everybody jealous with our dazzling wedding gown? We saved up all summer long, working for that farm out near Logan Lake... it wasn't the Cinderella dress we had dreamed of, was it? But it was expensive, to us. Alexander McQueen is still a price tag, even when you're a thirteen year old girl from Canada who didn't know Versace from Prada other than in the pages of a glamour magazine. We promised we'd be married in it, no matter what, because it was our dream come true. Our princess dress."  

Tears well over Roxy's lower eyelids, and she swipes them away, afraid to see them in her reflection. She bows her head again quickly, looking again at her hands.  

"I... have so many more expensive dresses now, you'd be so excited to see them. Have you? Have you been in there watching me all these years? Have you smiled when I bought things right off the pages of those magazines? Or when designers have made things just for me? Were you happy when I walked onto the runway for Firestarter last year? I need you to know... everything I've done from that night in LA when I put this on for the first time... I always did it for us. For you and me. I never forgot the little girl who wanted to be a princess. And I never forgot the first time we wore our dress. Before I put it in the back of the closet and waited for a wedding..."  

OCTOBER 2011 - LOS ANGELES  

"Racquel, it's mom."  

The older woman's voice floats out of Roxy's cell speaker. Roxy continues throwing things into her bag – a hair curler, makeup kit, various lotions and polishes.  

"Mom, god, I told you. Call me Roxy now."  

"Not the time, Racquel. You have to come home."  

"As if. I'm, like, really busy here mom. I have a shoot in an hour, and over the weekend I'm supposed to go to Vegas to-"  

"Uncle Jimmy died."  

The phone held dead air for an entire minute before anyone dared to speak. Finally, Roxy's mother's voice breaks the silence.  

"Racquel? ...Roxy?"  

"I heard you."  

"I need you here. You and your sister are all I have left. Please just be here for me for his funeral."  

"Mom you know what happened..."  

"I don't want to talk about that. I can't believe you'd even go there right now, Racquel... he DIED. He's DEAD, do you understand?  

"You never believed me..."  

"He's my brother, Racquel. My family. Don't you understand? Of course you don’t... you ran off to Hollywood as soon as you could, didn't you? Just left me here with Danielle and no one to help with anything except James, and now he's gone! You don't even care!"  

"I've sent you money every month, mother. For you and for Danielle... wait... you didn't let him near her did you? You promised!"  

"What was I supposed to do, Racquel? What was I supposed to do? He's my brother. I loved him."  

"Mom you fucking bitch, I swear to god I hate you! I hate you!"  

"How dare you talk to me that way. How dare you. You think you can paint yourself up like some whore and change your name and not have any responsibilities to your family anymore? You think you can just leave and wipe your hands clean of us? You're no better than your piece of shit father."  

"Mom, as if."  

"As if, as if, as if WHAT Racquel? I hate the way you talk. I hate the way you look. I called to ask for one thing from you after all that I did raising you on my own, all the sacrifices I made, and you act like this? You either get here for Uncle James' funeral or I won't ever have another word to say to you again."  

"Good!"  

"And neither will your sister. She already thinks you abandoned her. I'll make sure she thinks you're dead too."  

"You're disgusting. Absolutely horrible. You want to get your way that bad? That you'd lie to your own daughter and make her think her sister died and never loved her? You think that's okay?"  

"Just get here. Or else."  

And then the call dropped dead. Roxy stood in her apartment living room fuming, then stomped her heeled feet before typing a new number into the cell.  

"Tommy? Yeah, I can't make it. The shoot, yeah, but also I can't come in tonight for my shift. Or tomorrow. I need the whole rest of the week off."  

She waits while a voice on the other end grows louder, to the point she has to pull the phone away from ear a bit.  

"I have to go to Canada. Fuck you Tommy, get a different girl to sit on those gross old fuckers' laps!"  

Roxy shuts the phone down and tosses it into her bag, and then heads for the door.  

TWO DAYS LATER  

"James Couton was a brother, an uncle, and a friend to many. He spent his life bringing joy and happiness to others..."  

The priest standing near the headstone of the open grave continues to eulogize as Mandy and her young daughter Danielle stand nearby. Mandy cries openly as Danielle continues to stare absently into the hole in the ground where a casket sits waiting to be lowered.  

"I've known James for many years, and I can say that no one in Kamloops or all of British Columbia ever did more for his community or for his family. He loved his sister, Amanda, and her two daughters Racquel and Danielle deeply. His tireless work and boundless love..."  

"BULLshit."  

The crowd gasps in unison as they turn to the source of the interruption. Walking up to the congregated mourners is none other than Roxy Cotton, wearing her bright white dress.  

"Uncle James was a piece of shit, a pervert, and all he ever brought to me and my sister's lives was pain and shame. And mom? You think you can threaten me by saying you won't be a part of my life anymore? Well, you haven't been a mother to me since the first time I told you about your disgusting fucking brother and the things he did to me – when you laughed in my face and told me I must have been imagining things. That day you stopped being anything to me other than an enemy. Fuck you. Fuck Uncle Jimmy. And fuck everyone here talking about what a good, honorable man he was. I don't need any of you anymore, because I've become something else. You're all here in black from head to toe to be sad for a disgusting pedophile... and I wore my favorite dress. Because this is the best day of my life."  

Roxy steps up to the grave and looks down, scooting her oversized sunglasses down on her nose to see the casket unfettered. Then she spits a gob of mucus and saliva down onto the lid of the coffin and turns away as the murmur from the attendees intensifies.  

"You ungrateful..."  

Mandy steps forward to Roxy and swings her arm in a slap, but Roxy stops it in midair, then cracks her own hand across the face of her mother, dropping her to her knees. The priest attends to Mandy while Roxy takes a knee in front of her fourteen year old little sister and puts a hand on her shoulder.  

"Danielle..."  

Roxy pulls a pen and a scrap of paper from her bag, then scribbles a number onto it.  

"You call me when you're ready. I'm always here for you. Always. Call me when you want to get away from all of this bullshit, and you can come be with me in Los Angeles. Don't lose the number. I won't change it."  

Roxy hugs her little sister, who grips her tight in response and finally lets a few tears fall. Roxy's match hers.  

"I love you, Dani. Don't forget."  

Roxy stands then and walks off, leaving her mother and her hometown in her rear view mirror for good.  

2018 

Roxy still sits in front of her mirror. She blinks her green eyes once, and then again. Her naked face stares back at her from the mirror and she smiles again at the memory of her and her dress. She looks up at the garment hanging from the hook and then back at herself. 

“I wish she were here today to see us doing so well. What happened to Dani… well, that was awful. We never really got to deal with it, did we? Just moved along with our life and kept looking forward, never back. It’s why I had to hide you under all these layers. You know that, I know you do. 

Roxy’s phone chirps to life with a loud alert made in her own voice. 

THAT ONE BITCH IS TEXTING YOU 

“Ugh. Why?” 

Roxy looks at her cell, swiping open the texts and seeing that Milisandre Crowthorne had in fact been texting her for a while with no reply while the bombshell had been lost in thought.  

“Gross.” 

Roxy sneers but replies, not wanting to have to deal with the fuss if she were to dare blow off her ‘partner’ for her upcoming trios match in UGWC. 

Roxy rolls her eyes hard enough to make herself seasick. She thinks for a few moments, looking at her childlike face in the mirror, and then quickly comes to a decision. 

Roxy sets the phone down and sighs, once more gazing at her reflection. The corners of her mouth turn upward in a genuine smile, before she shakes her head rapidly like someone who’d walked into a spiderweb. 

“I’m sorry, baby… but you’ve got to go back underneath again. I promise to visit more often.” 

Roxy blows a kiss to herself, then reaches for the makeup kit again, swirling the brush into the bronzing powder and raising it to her cheek, this time not stopping before painting the famous face back on. 

“Thanks baby.” 

Some Time Later
On Roxy's Bed

WELCOME TO ROXY COTTON’S PRIVATE CAM 

Roxy Cotton sits completely made up once more on the edge of her bed. She wears a tight-fitting purple minidress and her cleavage sparkles with glitter. With a wink she smiles into the webcam and gives a coquettish little wave to her viewers. 

“Hey everyone… as you can see, I’m heading out for a little night on the town shortly. Not a lot of time to kiss and tell today, sorry… but I wanted to get something off my chest.” 

Roxy looks down at her burgeoning bosom, sparkling in the light. 

“Not that, of course. Those cost way too much money. No, what I need to deal with is Paragon, and the way they trigger me. Like… on what planet is it okay for two old men to get in the ring with a bunch of hot younger girls? When we signed up for this, it was bad enough that Jack Michaels was involved. We assumed their team would lose, TBH, but I figured that with Amber Ryan involved there was a chance for them to be our next round opponents… Amber is someone I’ve seen all over the place and actually have a tiny bit of respect for. There’s no real way to sugar coat it - the girl is a bad bitch. She’s got a great record everywhere she goes, like 4CW where she undoubtedly calls everyone a cuck every third word. Most notably she’s run the table in Carnage with her geriatric tag team partner Jack. They’re the champions because of her, natch. She’s ranked higher than one of my least favorite people ever, the former LAW Champion Amy Jo Smyth… which, let’s be honest, I could be too if things were on a level playing field. But Amy Jo always seems to get things slanted in her direction. It’s refreshing to see her come up short with someone. So, I was looking forward to getting to add Amber’s name to the list of so-called top stars that I’ve handed L’s too in my career already, short as it’s been. Unfortunately I don’t get that chance for whatever reason… I’m sure Old Man Michaels is to blame somehow. He probably tried to date grape her in the locker room and ended up tearing her birth canal with his lopsided dick. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s one of those freaks that has a cock with a bend to it, you know? Like a left turn halfway through? The whole thing shaped like a dog’s back leg? Those can do a number on a cervix that isn’t used to fucking a dick with a knuckle in it, and I assume Amber can actually land a more human mate rather than settling for all of Michaels’ extra chromosomes. Don’t worry Amber, I’ll get you the number of a doc who can do quick abortions, just in case Uncle Creepy here got some of his powdered milk to actually stick inside you.” 

Roxy pauses to sip from a glass of red wine. Her cherry red lips stain the crystal lip of the glass and she sets it back down off to the side of the cam’s view. 

“Little pregaming, sorry. I’m meeting my girls at a trashy bar because of course that’s where Mil wants to drag me. Like there aren’t a hundred better spots to go in Los Angeles, but, whatever, it’s for ‘her big day’ or some boring, lame thing. Anyway… back to Paragon. They pulled Amber out because of the grape thing, like I said, and now who’s in her spot? A different old man. Like, don’t get me wrong, when I first saw ‘White Tiger’ I got kind of excited! I was like, oh, cool, I liked that band and my fiance Vinnie plays their stuff all the time! But he told me I had it wrong and that those guys were called White Lion. I googled it and he was right, so that was a bummer. And even more of a bummer was when I actually saw Tiger’s profile online. I felt like I was looking at a sugar daddy from SeekingArrangement.com, but no, it was for real the new participant in our Lord of Trios match. Awesome. So between this high school guidance counselor looking pedo and Jack Michaels looking like he escaped from a 55 and over community, they have like a century’s worth of age just between themselves. That’s not even counting Eli, who, thank god, is at least under 30. I mean, I can handle being pawed by old men, it’s something I did for a living a few years back before getting into the business… and who knows what Mil does when she’s fucked up on Absinthe or whatever… but Angie? That poor girl doesn’t deserve to have men with false teeth trying to grab her. This whole thing feels like some sick setup for dirty old perverts to try and get their viagra-filled dicks hard one last time before they shuffle off their mortal coil. It’s not okay, and I’m not letting that shit happen to my girl. It’s almost as weird as whatever pagan sacrifice those freaks from the Court will probably try to do to us in the finals, if they get there. I figure they might not because LOL Jet, but they might. And if they do show up wearing those stupid owl masks then I guess we’ll just have to clip their wings and send them home to hoot themselves into a sleeping pill suicide.” 

An alarm sounds on Roxy’s cell. She rolls her eyes. 

“I have to go. I swear I’ll come back later tonight and do a real show. It should be a good one since I plan on getting petty toasty and then Ubering home. I can’t stand listening to Mil’s man voice without having at least three drinks in me. Speaking of…” 

Roxy downs the rest of her wine and then licks her lips slowly. 

“That’s all you get for now. See you soon, Jack and Tiger. You too, Eli. I know you’re watching. Probably all in the same room together so you can switch off when your arms get tired. Just be ready. Have Grampa take an extra calcium pill or two so I don’t have to explain to any local cops how an elderly man got his bones broken by my bare hands. Or, you know what? On second thought don’t. I’ve got good lawyers. Ta ta.” 

Roxy blows another kiss and then shuts down the laptop, sending the webcam to black. 

Part Four: The #CoolKids

Los Angeles, California 

Hollywood Boulevard 

Outside the Frolic Room

“Ang seriously, like, don’t sweat it it’s fine.” 

Stood outside the bar on Hollywood Boulevard, Angelica was shaking in her non-loaded boots. Roxy had proposed they’d meet here and while Angie was underage, Mil had gladly agreed. Seeing Mil’s relative enthusiasm, Angelica had agreed to come here since getting Mil ‘enthusiastic’ about something would go a long way towards helping her and Roxy get on the same page. And ultimately, that was her goal. But still, Angie didn’t feel comfortable at all. She was legally not allowed to go inside and the fake ID that Mil had procured for her felt like a neon sign above her head, flashing ‘Criminal On The Run’ to the nearest law enforcement officers.  

“But Mili, maybe I shouldn’t, how about you and Roxy just…” 

“Oh no!” Mil interrupted her immediately. “I’m not going in there without you and spending time with Roxy by myself. That’s, like, not what we agreed on.” 

“Fair enough, but Mil…” She motioned for her to come closer and took the fake ID out of her pocket, before whispering in her ear. “This thing says I’m 21 years old. Like, that’s really old! I don’t look like an old hag, will they even believe me??” 

Mil sighed and shook her head. “21 isn’t old, Ang. It really isn’t. Just relax. If you look nervous, you’ll also look suspicious. Don’t worry, like, I used fake ID’s all the time and was never caught. Besides, I wanna go inside, they say this is, like, the last place the Black Dahlia was spotted. Pretty awesome!” 

Angelica didn’t really understand what was so awesome about a notorious and elusive serial murderer having been spotted at a bar, but then again Milisandre did have weird tastes. She chose to let the comment slide for now and looked at the bar again. It actually seemed tiny, drowning between the massive buildings on Hollywood Boulevard. It reminded her of how the Leaky Cauldron, gateway to Diagon Alley in the Potterverse, would look like. She wanted to make that remark to Mili to prove that she too could make smart pop culture references, but decided now wasn’t the time and place. Large neon lights in a groovy font saying ‘FROLIC ROOM COCKTAILS’ were placed over the matted golden doorway that led inside. The combination of bright yellow, red, purple and green lights did make it stand out a bit more, but this was Hollywood Boulevard. Everything was big and flashy.  

“But what if they call the cops?” Angelica began again, but Milisandre just took her by the arm and dragged her through the doorway.  

Once they got inside, Angie’s nerves calmed down somewhat. On the inside, the bar was warm and cozy. The bar itself stretched from one side to the other, and the countless bottles and glasses on display were reflected in the mirrored wall behind. It made the entire place look twice as big as it actually was. It wasn’t overly crowded but there were certainly more than just a handful of patrons enjoying a drink underneath the warm, soft light of the round overhead lamps that were painted in a dark shade of red to give the entire area a moody kind of atmosphere.

The walls on the other side of the bar were beautiful: decorated with hand-painted scenes of celebrities ranging from Marilyn Monroe to Albert Einstein enjoying a drink. Underneath were booths that looked relatively simple, but thick leather cushions clearly provided more than enough comfort for even the most finicky of backsides.  

“I guess we, like, pick a booth,” Mil began, but as soon as the duo wanted to move towards one, the bartender spotted the pair. He raised his hand, which had a towel wrapped around it for drying the cocktail glasses off. He looked well into his fifties, a grey mustache the only hair on his otherwise bald head. He wore a plain white shirt with black suspenders. It seemed like he was definitely the guy in charge. 

“Hey, you there!” he shouted in a booming voice. It was authoritarian, but not entirely unfriendly. “No minors allowed, missy. You’re going to have to turn back, I’m afraid.” 

Angelica froze and the blood drained from her face. If it was humanly possible for her to look even whiter, she probably would have. Mili quickly jabbed her elbow against Angelica’s arm and gestured at the ID. 

“Oh, erm, I… I mean, gosh…” Angelica stammered, slowly moving towards the counter with the card in her shaking hands. “I’m… I’m actually a lot older than I look, sir, like I am at least, like, yeah… totes old. I mean, I’m 21, see? Totes!” She held up the ID to the bartender, who raised one of his bushy eyebrows.  

Mil rolled her eyes hard enough to make Sarah Lacklan proud and shook her head. “She isn’t used to coming to bars. Especially in L.A. Bit overwhelming for her. She was raised in, like, a convent or something? Super religious parents.” Mil reached into her back pocket and produced her own ID for the Bartender to check. 

“Not a convent!” Angelica corrected her, but with the bartender seemingly satisfied, Mil grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and guided her towards the nearest booth.

“I’ll have a Stella,” Mil shouted over her shoulder at the bartender. “Actually, make that three to start. My friend will have…” 

“...Appletini?” Angelica squeaked and once more Mil rolled her eyes. “What? I like them!” 

They took a seat opposite of each other and Angie quickly looked at her phone to check the time. “I’m errrr… sure Roxy will be here any minute, she probably has erm…. Heavy traffic.” 

“Yeah or she is just being late cause she likes to make a scene.” Mil glanced from Ang to the bar to make sure the fake ID ruse worked. Once she saw their drinks being made she relaxed and returned her attention to her tall blonde friend. “So, like, this place is pretty awesome. A little fancier than I would normally choose. But, like, the link to history and stuff makes it totally awesome. Like, how cool is it that this is the last place the infamous Black Dahlia was seen before she was murdered?” 

“Errrr… very cool!” Angie lied to make Mil feel better. “I never would have guessed. Wasn’t the Black Dahlia some kind of murderer though?” 

“No, it was the name they gave to the victim. Or, actually, more so to the murder itself. I know it’s probably a bit macabre for you but just, like, interesting to me. Did you know that Sativa was part of a tag team called the Black Dahlias? That’s super cool.” 

“Totes!” Angie lied again. This kind of talk made her feel uneasy. But before she could come up with a way to steer the conversation towards the awesome cat video she saw this morning, their drinks came. Three pints of Stella for Mil and one Appletini for Angelica. Mil dug in right away, but Angelica looked at her drink for a bit, slightly worried. “Hey, … Mil?” she whispered, leaning forward to make sure nobody could hear her but her teammate. “They didn’t give me a straw!” 

Mil’s eyes rolled as she downed half of her first drink in one gulp. She licked her lips and chuckled. “You don’t drink alcohol through a straw. Especially a martini.” She looked around the bar once again taking in the ambiance before focusing on her friend. “Hey, Ang, thanks again for agreeing to be my bridesmaid. Means a lot to me.” 

“Well, yeah!” Angelica answered, picking up the Appletini and sipping it. Straw or not, it still tasted good. “I mean, anyone agreeing to be your bridesmaid would definitely be a great friend, would she not? Like, absolutely anyone! It’s a big responsibility. I’m truly honored. But you and Bruce deserve the very best, so that’s who you’re going to get!” She took a sip again, getting kind of nervous about the scheme she had planned to hatch, but she was still going to go through with it. Being bridesmaid obviously meant a lot to Mili. She was certain Roxy would really appreciate the honor too. Her friends getting along was more important to Angie than any kind of reward or ceremonial function.  

Mil finished her first drink and set the glass aside. “Yeah, glad I didn’t have to, like, have a million of them. Totally not my thing. Just trying to match what Bruce wanted. The other bodyguard that Sarah had along with Bruce, whose name I still don’t know,” Mil shook her head and blushed a bit, “is gonna be his best man. And he said he had another friend he wanted as a groomsman. And since, like, Sarah is my best friend in the whole world she was the obvious choice for Maid of Honor. But, like, I couldn’t imagine a better bridesmaid than you.” Mil gave her friend a genuine smile and started on her second drink. This one a bit slower than the first. After a sip she sighed with frustration. “UGH, where the hell is Roxy at?” 

As if summoned, Roxy strode up to the table as if she were right on time. The leggy blonde already had a dirty Gibson martini in her hand - on the rocks, of course. 

“Hi Angie!” 

“About time. Like, where were you?” Annoyed, Mil finds it hard to disguise how perturbed she is by Roxy’s late arrival. 

“It’s called being fashionably late, Mil. You should try it sometime?” 

“Being late?” 

“No. Being fashionable.” 

Roxy sipped her drink. Angie brightened up seeing her good friend finally appear. 

“Hi Roxy! So glad you made it! And you already have a drink? How?” 

“I called ahead, baby. I told them to put it on Mil’s tab. Oh! That reminds me! Here.” 

Roxy then reached into her small clutch purse and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, dropping it unceremoniously onto the table in front of Milisandre. 

“What the fuck is that, Rox?” 

“It’s my Uber receipt. I told you this was on you.” 

After Mil threw Roxy a look that was dirtier than the latter’s Gibson martini, Angelica felt she had to de-escalate the situation before things got out of hand. She got up, barely rising above the rest of them and held her hands up. “Guys, guys, guys, take it easy here. We’re here to talk strategy, yeah? So Rox, take a seat I guess, because I’ve got something I wanted to ask you.” 

“First things first… hugs from my girl!” 

Roxy then held her arms out straight, wiggling her free fingers in a beckoning gesture. Angie happily bounced into the bombshell’s embrace and the two swayed back and forth, their heels clicking on the floor of the bar. After they separated, Roxy looked down uneasily at Mil. 

“You’re fine, don’t get up.” 

“Didn’t plan on it.” 

“GUYS!” Angie showed her annoyance with Roxy’s insistence on being bitchy to Mil by crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. 

“What Angie? I know tonight’s your night… I got dressed up just for you! See?” 

Roxy then spun in a quick pirouette, showing off her slim figure in the form fitting minidress. 

“So… what’s the big occasion?” 

Angelica enthusiastically clapped her hands. “Well! Big occasion is the Trios tournament! Obvs! I mean, we did really well last time, I thought, but erm… Well I’d be lying if I said that there were erm… certain aspects that didn’t quite feel right. I mean, winning Lord of Trios could totes be one of the biggest things we’ll ever win! SO I just want our next two matches, because we’re totes going to be in at least two, to go off without a hitch so that we can not just be victorious but that people will remember us as the RIGHTFUL winners!” She stressed the second to last word, which Roxy seemed to notice. 

Roxy felt the weight of the two other women’s stares as she sipped on her martini, leading her to gulp down her mouthful and look back and forth at them both. 

“What?” 

“You know what I mean, right Rox?” Angie looked at her with a pleading expression. Roxy seemed oblivious. 

“No, baby, I was… distracted? I think?” 

“She wasn’t listening, Ang. This is so dumb.” 

“You’re dumb, not me. I’m super successful and important. You live in Sarah’s basement.” 

“ROXY STOP IT!” 

Angie’s outburst silenced both Roxy and Mil in mid bicker, both of them turning to face the CWC Mexico Champion with rapt attention. Roxy finally sat down in her seat and paid close attention as Angie began to speak. 

“Look, we need to discuss your… bodyguard. And no, I’m not talking about whether or not she is eligible to play in the LFL because she may or may not look a bit mannish. I’m talking about the fact that I was rather unhappy about the role she played in our victory. You know what I mean, right?” 

Angie frowned, taking a quick sip of her Appletini to suddenly find it drained already. Roxy kept looking at her, as if she was expecting her to elaborate because she obviously didn’t know what Angelica meant. Angie, for once, seemed to pick up on something and let out a slight sigh. 

“Look, I just mean that it might be in our best interests, in the long run, to not have Maxine at ringside during our matches anymore. Our last victory felt… tainted. To be honest.” 

The air was filled with a sucking noise as Roxy had plucked one of the pearl onions from her emptied glass and begun to slurp the few drops of vermouth from its surface. When she once again felt the intensity of her friends looking at her, she dropped the onion back into the glass and set it down, tossing her hands in the air in exasperation. 

“What is this? Some sort of setup? An intervention? Mil has been on my case about Max ever since that stupid battle royal, as if that was somehow my fault!”  

“Well, like, it totally was. Had your amazon bodyguard not been there and dropped me on my shoulder I wouldn’t have messed up my shoulder and need rehab. I personally don’t want that, thing, at ringside whenever I’m in the ring.” Mil glared at Rox and downed the rest of her second drink. 

“Wow, Mil. Wow. That ‘thing’ is a woman, and she helps keep me SAFE. More than you have ever done, by the way. That battle royal was for me to win so I could be the Marquee Champion in LAW, and you were supposed to help! Instead that wannabe goth chick won and couldn’t even beat Crystal. I would have beat her! So shut up about it already, god!” 

“Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Roxy,” Angelica quickly interrupted, seeing that Mil was about to explode. She put her hand on her shoulder to stop her from jumping out of her seat. “I mean, Mil’s issues with Maxine aside, surely you can see that what she did at our first Lord of Trios match was not the right way to win?” 

Roxy tapped the rim of her empty glass, growing impatient at its insistence on not containing any more alcohol. The waitresses all seemed to be busy elsewhere, however, leaving her with no option but to respond to Angie’s pointed suggestion. 

“Look, Angie… the world is like, super dangerous. Maxine takes care of me. What would happen if some fan at ringside decided to jump in the ring and try to kidnap me? Or, like, follows me to my car after the show? You guys only have to worry about our opponents, but someone like me always has stalkers and creepers to worry about! Besides, who cares how we won? We WON, didn’t we? We’re going to win the whole tournament because of me. Duh.” 

Mil picks up her third Stella and lifts it to her lips. “We could only be so lucky if you got kidnapped.” She mumbles into her glass before taking a drink. “Ang is right though Rox. We don’t need it at ringside. And UGWC has security that will keep people away from ringside. So, maybe, like, keep your guard dog on a leash backstage?” 

Ang picked up here Mili’s sentence had finished. “I’m not saying that you have to fire her and send her to Alaska or some other Godforsaken place. It’s just that we don’t need her! Her actions diminish our accomplishments and I want everybody to see how good we can be! I mean, look at you, Rox!” Angie reaches over and in an extremely caring gesture grabs her hand. “I mean, you’re tough, you’re pretty, you’re rich, you’re successful, you’re basically everything someone could aspire to be in so many ways! You don’t need the extra help, you don’t need Maxine to win your matches. You’ve got us! Your friends! Aren’t we enough??” Angelica put on her best puppy eyes and looked at Roxy. 

Roxy’s chin quivered with emotion for half a second before the realization hit her that others could see. She then snapped back into the typical billboard model thousand yard stare she had mastered years ago and shot a glare in Mil’s direction. 

“First of all, Milisandre… Max is a SHE, not an IT. It would, like, go a long way towards helping your career finally turn into one worth mentioning in public if you got a little more woke about the world. Second of all… how do you keep getting refills and I don’t?” 

Roxy trailed off as the cocktail waitress deftly slipped a new martini in front of her, leaving with the empty in tow without breaking stride. 

“Oh!” 

She then swirled the contents around with the plastic stirrer and pulled it from the drink, running it down the length of her tongue before placing it on the table on her napkin. 

“Okay… okay! If it means SO much to you both, I can give Maxine the night off. But I think it’s stupid.” 

“I have more drinks because I was SMART enough to order more when we got here. I know how fast and much I can drink. And I don’t care about people, like, talking about me and what I’ve done. I would be happier if they didn’t honestly. So, take your ‘woke’ bullshit and throw it at someone who actually cares.” Mil finished the last of her third drink, which was still three quarters full. “BUT, thank you for keeping her away from the ring. Because if she is at ringside, I won’t be.” 

“See? Progress!” Angelica smiled and rubbed her hands together. “This is good! Very good! You guys will learn to love each other as much as I love you both, just wait and see!” Angelica knew the timing was right. She’d convinced Roxy to leave her enforcer behind for the match, so now she could focus on the other thing she was here to do: bring Mil and Roxy closer together. It was now or never, as the tone of cooperation had been set. 

“Anyway, Roxy, as I’m sure you are aware, Mili here is going to get married three months from now. Personally, I think it’s going to be Vaughnemous! She asked me to be her bridesmaid, and I gladly accepted!” She shot a bright smile at Mili who responded with a slight grin. “Howeverrrrrr… I’m sure that you don’t want to feel left out. Since you actually don’t have any kind of ceremonial position at the wedding, I was thinking that, in an effort for you two to get closer to each other and really become very good friends, it’d be wonderful if, instead of me, Roxy could take it upon herself to become your bridesmaid instead! Isn’t that a wonderful idea, guys?” Angelica enthusiastically posed the question, expecting nothing but a positive response. 

In a rare showing of unity, Mil and Roxy both rolled their eyes at Angie’s insistence on dropping her catchphrase into everyday conversation. However, then Mil shot Ang an incredulous look. “NO! Absolutely not! She should feel honored that she is even invited! I don’t want her to ruin that day.”  

“B-b-b-ut…” Angie stammered, taken aback by Mil’s intensity. “Think about it, Mil. It’s a chance for Roxy to prove that she can be a good friend, that she’s willing to take responsibility and follow through. And in turn, it’s a chance for you to show Rox that you trust her completely! I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to do it. You know that. But for the sake of unity, this is for the best. Not just for us. But for all of our friends! I’m certain Sarah and Kenzi would agree it’s a great idea as well! Rox, what do you think? You’ll do it, right?” 

“Well…” Roxy then brought her glass to her lips, trying to buy some time. Nothing came of it, though, as Angie just kept staring with her doe eyes and waiting for a reply. 

“Well I do already have my dress picked out.” 

“What? Why?” Mil seemed almost knocked from her chair with stupor. 

“Well I assumed you were inviting me, like, of course you were going to. Why wouldn’t you? How else would you get TMZ and stuff to show up?” 

Mil’s dumbfounded expression was only obscured by the beer she quickly raised to her lips in an effort to suppress saying anything that might hurt Angelica. 

“Like… if I’m already going to be there, and already going to be looking like I just walked off a Paris catwalk… then why not? Sure! But... only if you still do it too, Angie. We can both be bridesmaids together.” 

Roxy grinned from ear to ear and raised her martini for a toast with Angie. Angie smiles wide and nods emphatically, clinging her glass against Roxy's.

“Yay! We’re maids of honor!”  

“Well, like, whatever, I guess. But, if Bruce doesn’t or can’t find a second groomsman then, you can just, like, sit in the back and watch the ceremony or whatever.” Mil rolled her eyes and stood up. “I need more alcohol.” She then headed for the bar. 

“Does she not know what waitresses are?” Roxy asked earnestly. Angie shrugged in reply. 

“Waitresses only have two hands. Probably not enough for what she’s about to order.” And sure enough, not much later Mil returned with three more pints, ready to get some serious drinking going. But Angie? Angie was happy. She felt like she accomplished what she’d set out to do and couldn’t contain herself any longer. Gleefully, she rose from her seat before Mil had a chance to sit back down and wrapped an arm around her neck. “You guys! I’m so glad I’m here with you!” Her free and snatched Roxy by the wrist and pulled her up with surprising force. Deceptively strong, she was. She one-arm hugged them both, overjoyed at their willingness to put aside their differences and work together both in and out of the ring. “We’re going to win, I just know it! Now that we’re on the same page nobody can stop us. Not Paragon, and not those silly people in silly owl masks or those guys who like to RIB each other constantly. Lords of Trios… Here we come!”


Angie then skipped off to use the 'little girls' room' as she called it, leaving Roxy and Mil to sit and drink in awkward silence for a few minutes before Roxy finally spoke up.


"Write down my Venmo, okay baby? It's Roxy Cotton ."


"Why?"

"Uh, for my Uber money home?"


"I cannot wait for this to be over..."


The two girls then sat in silence some more until Angelica finally returned, and they went back about their #CoolKidsNightOut.

THE END

[cooltubesource]

I have already spoken to you guys privately, but I would like to say publically that I think that this was fantastic. Everyone had their distinct voice in their solo sections and the silliness when they come together is fun. Most stables I have run across in this game sound too similar to one another (probably because it is 2 handlers playing 6 characters, and the like), but that is not the case with the #CoolKids.

[Jet Somers]

I really enjoy the interaction between these three when they meet up. Each of the individual sections has it's character development strengths, and that perfectly sets up the execution of the group scenes.

I also chuckle at the gifs that precede each section.