4CW cameras are stationed backstage, in the locker room of Cyrus Riddle. As he stands inches away from Rorie Steele, looking down at her slightly, he is shaking his head.
RIDDLE: "I thought I asked you to sort my bag when you brought it in here. Why haven’t you done it yet?"
Rorie sighed and rolled her eyes.
STEELE: "I did sort it… didn’t I? Your stupid pants are on the left and t-shirts on the right. Sorted."
RIDDLE: "No, I said I wanted them sorted according to ensemble. Whole outfits put together. My pre-match clothes on the left, match gear in the middle, and post-show clothes on the right. Now, I understand that there’s more fabric in one of my t-shirts than what you wear entirely, but that’s no reason to negate proper instructions."
STEELE: "Ohhhh-kay, really? You’re so fucking high maintenance, it’s ridiculous! You’re worse than me! Who the fuck requires clothes to be laid out like that?"
Cyrus laughs, placing a hand on her shoulder.
RIDDLE: "Well, I don’t usually, but seeing as how I have you now, I figured I’d give it a go."
She twisted her body out of his touch. First time for everything. She snarled at him, eyes slit.
STEELE: "This is bullshit."
Cyrus smirks, running his index finger along his bottom lip as he looks up at her with his head slightly down. He laughs a bit, but gets closer to her, speaking in somewhat of a whisper.
RIDDLE: "No, bullshit is you bringing this on yourself in the first place. Bullshit is trying to blackmail someone who had no ill intentions toward you. This is all a dose of what you deserve."
She pushed him away from her, annoyed by his closeness.
STEELE: "You’re a piece of work, Riddle. Get out of my face."
RIDDLE: "Stand in front of me."
He points to the area immediately in front of him.
STEELE: "No."
His eyebrows raised.
RIDDLE: "Yes."
She crossed her arms over her chest.
STEELE: "No."
RIDDLE: "Alright then."
Cyrus reaches into the pocket of his dress pants and pulls his phone out.
RIDDLE: "If you’ll excuse me, I have some information to release to public."
Rorie clenched her teeth.
STEELE: "You wouldn’t dare…"
An arrogant smile forms on Cyrus’ face.
RIDDLE: "Funny that you think I wouldn’t."
He begins to type on his phone while speaking words out loud.
RIDDLE: "The truth about Rorie...or Rorz, I should say…"
She quickly moves over to him, placing a hand over his phone, so he can’t see it. She is now standing in front of him.
STEELE: "Fine. What do you want?"
RIDDLE: "I want to know why you came at me two weeks ago."
STEELE: "With what? The whole blackmail thing?"
Cyrus nodded, waiting for her explanation.
STEELE: "I wanted.. exactly what you’ve made me. But I knew I wasn’t going to get that by just asking. I enjoy having power over people. And I thought you’d be easy prey. Since getting into your pants was easy as fuck as well."
RIDDLE: "Wow… so naive. Love, it’s so much easier to get to my cock than it is to get into my mind. Next time you should do your homework."
STEELE: "Well clearly I did the wrong fucking homework. It’s over and done with. I fucked up. For once I admit I fucked up. And this… This fucking bullshit is my punishment."
Cyrus shrugs.
RIDDLE: "It may be bullshit, but I can only imagine what you would have me do. So, that being said, my word stands. You do as I say, and you listen with a little less back talk, and you will get some things that you want if I see to provide it."
STEELE: "Me? Less back talk? Good fucking luck."
She rolled her eyes. Cyrus begins to show signs of frustration.
RIDDLE: "Listen, I'm becoming really tired from this game you play. If your personal information means so little to you, then I can just tell the world right now. Otherwise, I say, you do, and force a smile whether you care to or not. How does that sound?"
Rorie clenched her teeth again, her annoyance obvious.
STEELE: "Fine. I will do my best. I need this secret kept…"
RIDDLE: "Alright then… fuck the sorting, I have something else for you."
STEELE: "… What?"
Cyrus smiles mischievously.
RIDDLE: "I'm sure you aren't thinking I forgot about my little poll from Monday."
STEELE: "Motherfucker…"
She glares at him, not liking what he's referring to.
RIDDLE: "It's obvious you need to be kept on a tight leash."
STEELE: "And it's obvious you're a masochist."
She shook her head at him.
STEELE: "And that's fucking sad."
Cyrus laughs.
RIDDLE: "Sadomasochist love. I like to inflict and receive pain. Is there a problem?"
While that generally would have interested her, she showed pure annoyance still.
STEELE: "The problem is I fucking hate you. And you’re a dick. But get it fucking over with so this night ends."
Cyrus reaches into his bag and removes a choker with a leash attached, both all black. He holds it up to her.
RIDDLE: "We'll have to come up with a reward system if you start listening more. That, or I'll have to get a ball gag to put in your mouth so you shut it from time to time."
STEELE: "Oh fuck no… I draw the line at that bullshit right there!"
She turns away from him, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.
RIDDLE: "Put it on or I will put it on you myself."
STEELE: "Fuck that. I’m not putting it on myself. That’s even worse!"
RIDDLE: "Okay then."
Cyrus walks up behind her placing a hand on her waist and whispering.
RIDDLE: "Is it better if I make it less forceful and more… intimate?"
She clenched her teeth, not moving away from him.
STEELE: "Fuck you…"
RIDDLE: "I think that's your problem, yeah? You want me to do that. Explains your animosity."
STEELE: "Whatever, Cyrus…"
She pushed her ass back against his crotch, using the movement to get him away from her. Cyrus rubbed the back of his head with his hand.
RIDDLE: "You live in denial, it seems. I tell you what… put this on, and I'll do something for you."
She turned her head, looking at him curiously.
STEELE: "What’s that?"
RIDDLE: "Whatever you want."
STEELE: "I want to not be your slave."
RIDDLE: "Alright… something other than that."
STEELE: "Fine then. I want this."
She reaches her hand down, grabbing his crotch. Same old Rorie. Cyrus makes a noise comparable to a mild grunt, his face turning a light red, but a smirk forming.
RIDDLE: "Put the leash on then."
She stares up at him, a blank look on her face. She grabs the collar and leash from him, putting them around her neck. Cyrus placed his hands on her hips.
RIDDLE: "Good… now, take it off and I will let your secret out. Keep it on, and I might just make it worth your while. Now, I need to get ready for tonight."
She slit her eyes up at him, clearly angry.
STEELE: "Whatever."
He sighed.
RIDDLE: "What now?"
STEELE: "What can I help you with… master..."
Her words came out like knives.
RIDDLE: "Don't be a smartass. Kick this fucker out of here and I'll let you help me get ready."
Cyrus motions toward the camera. Rorie turns her head to glare at the camera man.
STEELE: "Get the fuck out…"
She growled at him, advancing towards him. The camera panned down and quickly cut. |
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