Post by Roxy Cotton on Dec 17, 2018 16:13:58 GMT -5
DIGITAL WITNESS
Click.
Clickclickclickclick.
Click click clickclick.
***LOADING WEBCAM***
The screen lights up – a familiar and immaculate bedroom set comes into view. The same California king with purple satin sheets and a dozen pillows where countless viewers have watched their muse dance to the sound of their tokens bouncing into her online account. The bed, though, is fully made, without even the slightest wrinkle disturbing its linen surface. No sign of illicit acrobatics or seductive writhings to be seen, nor, indeed, the muse herself.
Then, directly in front of the cam view, a flat, black surface is dropped. Leather. Circular. The tanned fingers holding it from the top are tipped in reflective gold paint. A second hand, the mirror image twin sister of the first, comes into view from the left, a tube of bubblegum pink lipstick extended toward the black backdrop. At first, when the hand begins moving in purposeful swoops and circles, the end result is off screen. After a slow moment, however, the delicate scribblings come into view.
O
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S
O
N
The writing stops, and the black circle is pulled further back. We see the green eyes and blonde hair of Roxy Cotton, and the thick, black straps coming off of either side of the central circle. The reverse side of her newly-won LAW Chaos Championship belt, now with a single name written across it in lipstick.
SAM TOLSON
K
A
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E
S
T
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L
E
Another wink. Another giggle. Roxy turns the belt around to show the gleaming faceplate in all its glory, marred only by a single red smear across the top. She runs one finger delicately down, tracing the droplet, and biting her lip harder. She rolls her eyes back into her head and lets out a small sigh, seemingly nearly orgasmic from the reminder of her actions at the most recent LAW event in Chicago.
With that, she moves to the side of her bed and sets the belt down on her side table, leaning out of frame and retrieving a crystal glass and half full wine bottle, using one to fill the other before lying across the plush bed sideways, her form fitting minidress nearly a perfect match to the bed linens. She dangles her feet off the edge, crossing them at the ankles and bouncing them slightly in their sparkling stiletto heels, and takes a sip from her wine, licking her lips after swallowing, and finally addressing the webcam audience.
“Hey there babies.”
She flutters her fingers in a half hearted wave.
“Did you miss me? I missed you.
That’s why I had to come say hello last Sunday in Chicago… I know you can’t bear to have a LAW show go on the air without an appearance from yours truly. It would be a real shame, wouldn’t it? To have to suffer through more and more status quo when all you really wanted was your blonde bombshell to shake things up?
So I did.
Besides… some people needed to learn a lesson, didn’t they? SOME people, even the bottom of the barrel basic bitches, still run around LAW like it’s the same old, same old from months gone by… didn’t you get the memo, sweetheart? Things have changed now. There’s a shift in the air. A new brand of perfume on the shelves. Things will never, ever, EVER be the way they were before. I made sure of that in Minnesota, didn’t I?
Ding
Dong
The bitch is dead.
Well, maybe not dead, I guess she survived, but her career is dead and her relevance got left out in the Minneapolis cold, just like her unconscious body. Take it as symbolism, babes, I kicked Sam Tolson’s worthless ass right out of the arena and then choked her unconscious with my #CoolKids tee shirt… because if you can’t handle it, you simply choke on it, don’t you?
And yet… that same night, little Katie Steele thought it would be a good idea to call me out. Why would anyone be THAT fucking stupid, you might wonder?
Good question.
Katie’s been around a few blocks, hasn’t she? She’s gotten her head slammed into a lot of ring mats and a lot of headboards in the last couple of years. And, just to drive that point home, I decided to accept her silly little challenge in person in Chicago. Think she got my message?”
Roxy turns her head and look back at the Chaos Title, the red smear till plainly visible to the camera.
“I think she did.
But… some people just never learn, do they? Some people see a disruption in the status quo and see an opportunity for themselves. Basics like Kate Steele and new bitch on the block Eavan Maloney, who apparently wouldn’t have had anything to say in her debut promo video if not for me… you’re welcome, Ev… neither of whom could have done what I did at LAW #70, think it must have been some sort of lucky fluke, that maybe the new Chaos Champion is a chance for them. The uncertainty is what does it, isn’t it? They got used to seeing this title go nowhere for month after agonizing month and they decided that it was just going to be that way forever. They took it for granted. But baby, I already warned you… you can’t take me, or anything, for granted. People didn’t think I could win a match, until I did. People didn’t think I could beat Abby Addiction, until I did. People certainly didn’t think I could beat Sam Tolson and take away her precious… until I did. So what makes people like Kate and Eavan any different from any of the haters and doubters from every other time before? Nothing. Nothing at all. They think they can, and they can’t. They think I can’t, and then I do.
It will be the same thing again next weekend when I make my return to LAW in Cincinnati, taking on Midcard Medusa, Nova Sinclair.”
Roxy takes a second, longer, sip from her glass, once again licking off the red wine from her lips before raising her eyebrows and continuing.
“You know what’s funny though? Nova Sinclair, someone with basically no importance and no fanfare, someone who is in a meaningless match with me at LAW #72 with no impact on anything whatsoever, someone who can’t even keep a tag team partner for one entire match… someone like HER can stand up for herself and fight when it’s time to fight. I have to applaud you a little bit, Nova, because unlike the others, unlike Minako and Abby and the Angels… unlike Stacy Jones… unlike the so-called ‘terminator’ that WAS known as Chaos Champion before me… you didn’t hide your head in the sand and try to plug your ears from the big bad bombshell when she came looking for you, did you? No… you showed what the rest of these basics toting around title belts and collecting champion-level purses show after show should take notice of. Call it gumption, call it guts, call it ovarian fortitude for all I care… you stood your ground like a middle aged white man in a black neighborhood where every middle school kid has a hoodie and a bag of skittles. So kudos to you for that.
I mean, it doesn’t matter, but kudos anyway, you know?
Anyway.”
Roxy finishes her glass and then sets it down. She stares silently into the cam for a few moments, pensively.
“Nova… I thought about it, just now. I don’t hate you. I don’t even dislike you. You like to sex yourself up for your man, and go on helicopter adventures… you’re just living your life. Whatever. I like to look good too. I like to travel. I like to have cocktails with my girls and spend time on the beach… and when it’s time to get paid, I make it happen. If it’s in the ring or in a board room, it’s still a job. If it’s on a football field, a catwalk, or right here in front of this cam. You and me, we aren’t any different in that regard… so no, I don’t hate you at all.
It’s way worse than that, babe.
I don’t hate you… I don’t care about you at all. You’re nothing to me but a payday. My match with you doesn’t generate a single emotional response anywhere in my body. No hairs standing on end, no goose bumps, not a single shiver down my spine… those are reserved for the ones who matter, sweetheart. The Kate Steeles and the Sam Tolsons of the world… the ones I can generate enough feelings for to actively despise. You? You could be anyone. You might as well be a punching bag, or a crash test dummy. A nameless, faceless, bulls-eye at the end of the range while I pull my crosshairs up to my eye and put a hole right through the center of you.
You don’t matter, Nova.
Look at how your career in LAW has gone so far as an example… you came in and you won. Nobody noticed. Nobody cared. Nobody even KNEW… why? Because I had a match on the same show, against Abby, and it was the only thing anyone gave a damn about. You even went 2-0, somehow stealing a win over a… well, a friend of mine, I guess. Milli. But did anyone remember? Was anyone even in their seats at the arena, or were they going to the bathroom and hitting the merch stands so they wouldn’t miss a second of the REAL main event for that show, myself and the Queens of Wrestling facing off against the Angels? Take a guess. Or, if you think I’m wrong, go back and look at the footage. You’re second victory happened in front of a bunch of empty chairs and yawning, bored fans too lazy to get out of their Hoverounds in the handicapped section. My matches keep eyes glued to screens and asses glued to seats. I didn’t even know you beat her until just now when I checked! Great job!
Then what happened, babe?
The wheels came off a little, didn’t they?
While I was busy wrapping the Chaos Title around my waist in the main event, you were having smelling salts waved under your nose after taking a beating from Kenzi and Mil. Your own partner wanted nothing to do with you. I was closing the show with a smile on my face and holding gold high in the air over my head, and you were sulking and crying. And again, no one remembered. No one paid any attention to you when you won, why would they care at all when you lost? And after that? After that you got forgotten by the booking committee! You were there, in the locker room, everyone saw you when you decided to try and make Maria pay for abandoning you in that tag match… but the higher ups in LAW didn’t even bother putting your name on the card. No one in Chicago went there to see you. Me? Oh, I just sent the fans home happy AGAIN by ending the show with my hand in the air. Baby the only thing anyone is going to remember about your match this time around is that it was against me. You’ll be a footnote, another notch in the win column for the new, fantastic, Chaos Champion of LAW.
How does it feel, baby?
How does it feel to be an afterthought? How does it feel to just be a name after “vs.” for someone that people actually give a shit about? How does it feel to know that in my Wikipedia entry, you’ll just be some unnamed win in between title matches? How does it feel to know that no matter what happens, all the eyes will be on me?
Seriously, how does it feel? I wouldn’t know.
I guess after the match you can tweet me and let me know what all of that’s like babe… until then, just don’t get your hopes up.
Before then though, I decided to have a little bit of fun at your expense...
Roxy reaches forward a bit and retrieves her cell phone, swiping around a bit before pulling something up and turning the screen to face the cam.
See babe, last night for whatever reason you decided to bless the world with your little sex tape. I'm not sure why... were you fappened, hon? Did you get hacked? Am I going to find you on CelebJihad.com? No, no, of course not, who would waste their time leaking porn of a nobody?
No, for some unknown reason you just felt like we all needed to see you getting frisky with that loser Declan, the knight in shining armor who decided to get involved with our little online beef the other day... don't you just love it when basics cape for each other? No?
Well, anyway, guess what? You caught me at a time when I was a little bored... so I downloaded your shitty sex tape and then put on my private investigator hat and delved a little deeper into you. So, I found someone on your friend's list who you seemed pretty close with, and, well, see for yourself...
He didn't reply, but I know he saw the file I sent him... what do you think he thought of it?
Oh, and who's the girl in the picture with him I wonder? Looks like his status just changed, too... oh well, I'm sure it doesn't bother you, since you've got Tiny Dick Declan now. Right?
Yeah, no big deal. Just like you. But hey, at least you get to have a sip of the spotlight for once, instead of just watching it go on without you through television screens. You get to be a first hand witness...
See you soon, sweetie.
XOXO
Roxy blows a kiss to the webcam and then leans forward, the glitter shining off of her cleavage, as she reaches for the laptop screen and closes it, shutting down the feed.
~END~
