-
-
Rank：Diamond Member
- Score：643
- Posts：643
-
From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
|
Date Posted：07/24/2016 15:26 PMCopy HTML
Sometimes life throws you a curveball, taking you by surprised. You’re meant to catch it, but it’s going faster than anything you’ve ever seen and you have no glove. You’re expected to catch it with a bare hand, hoping not to break a finger or a bone if you catch it in the slightest incorrect spot. So what do you do? You must make a decision. Do you let the ball sail passed you, side stepping from possibly the most amazing, risky thing in the world, only to regret it later? Or do you risk breaking your hand and catching the curveball, even if it’s something good or bad? That’s the dilemma. And that decision could be the hardest one you could ever make in your life.
For Psyche Devyne, her curveball HAD been thrown. Things were going well until devastation hit in January. Her life began to crumble in front of her eyes and there was nothing she could do about it. Her father was put into the hospital after a sudden heart attack. It took everyone by surprise. She took time off to go see him. Even then, pressure from work and a significant other were weighing down on her, making her feel unsure whether she should go. This ended up being the last time she had ever seen her father again. Had she not gone, she would have never had the chance to embrace her father, even if he was in a coma. For a woman like her, showing too much sad emotion was rare. She was the strong one. She was the one who held her head high as she comforted those around her. But this whole situation broke her. She wasn’t herself. She couldn’t BE herself. She lost control of everything.
After her father’s death, things went worse. Her relationships began to slowly die. She was changing. She was quickly pulling herself away from everyone she loved. In ways, she did have good reason. Idiocy and stupid mistakes made her resent her lover quicker than she had thought she would. She began to snap at the tiniest inconveniences, yell for the dumbest reasons, and cry over the smallest things. The old Psyche had long since left.
As if the timeline had been erased, the end wasn’t even a memory. She had no recollection of how she had separated from her partner, but as if in the snap of her fingers, she fell into her darkest time and lost the one person that was still holding her hand in the dark pit. He left her. He abandoned her. She had changed. On TV, she had become this dark figure. If she were to look back now, she’d see herself as a dark misty cloud. A woman without features, but still able to communicate. Not even human. It wasn’t her. But to others, it was. It was her, but the opposite her. The anger. The madness. The bitterness towards everyone else but herself. It was all wrong, but she went along with it because that was all she could do. But once the hand let go, she fell. For a moment, she fell into the darkness.
But here’s the thing about Psyche. She’s always been a fighter. Always been the type to catch herself before she fell too far. And that’s what she did. She found a ledge of sorts and climbed back up. From there, the only way to go was up. She refused to fall back down. She climbed out of the pit, dusted off her pants, and began her journey to a new home. 4CW. She wouldn’t stay in a place where she felt unwanted. Where she had people who would rather see her fall back into the hole. Where she had memories of the worst times. She needed something new. Something fresh. Something that would allow her to go back to her roots and forget about her recent past. She would cherish the memories she had had, in a sense, but she would also bury the ones that she no longer needed. She found herself a new home. And here, she would build a new life. Build a new name for herself.
She caught her curveball.
- - - - - - - - -
The scene opens up to Psyche Devyne standing in a dark room with just a light fixed on her. She has on a white latex dress that almost blends in with her skin. A black belt is fastened just below her breasts, breaking up the fully white look. She has her hair up in a messy bun. Her hands are on her hips as she stares at the camera.
“You know… it’s been quite some time since I stepped in the ring. Before I left Boardwalk Wrestling, I took a lot of time off. To be honest… I haven’t wrestled since February 9th. It’s been over a bloody month. I took my time. I stepped away from Boardwalk because things weren’t right for me. Everything I did felt wrong. And I quickly turned into something I hated. I became exactly what I didn’t want to become. I was pushed into the wrong spotlight. I was pushed into the flickering, almost burnt out light. The kind nobody ever wants to face. But there I was, staring at a crowd that hated me. And for what? To fit in? To be something that isn’t me for someone else? At one time, this was what I wanted. I didn’t think I was doing anything right. But my views changed quickly. I found my place. But that place was taken away from me by someone else. To please someone else. And now… it’s all over.”
She brings her head down for a moment, thinking of how things had gone recently.
“I came to 4CW with a new vision. With a new outlook on wrestling. I came here as a revised version of myself. I took all of the good things I had learned and used them to create this better version of me. I was thrown a curveball. And I caught it. But I didn’t keep it. I wrote everything I wanted to forget on that ball and threw it right back.”
She smiled slightly, eyes fixed on the camera again.
“You see… I’m a fighter. I’m the girl that people underestimate time and time again. When I first came to America, the wrestling here was a learning curve. I had to change everything about myself in order to fit in. To feel like I belonged here. But I was wrong. I was wrong to do that. The moment I changed who I was, I signed myself up for failure. But I adapted anyways. I started to get better. I moved higher up the cards. I became someone that people wanted to see. I fought my way from the bottom.”
Her head moved upwards thoughtlessly, as if looking at the top of a list. She brought her head back down. She began to pace a bit.
“Now in 4CW I have to do the same. I have to fight my way to the top of the card. But here’s the difference. This time… I don’t need to adapt. This time I know exactly who I am. I know what I am. I know what I can do. When I left Boardwalk, I revisited the old Psyche Devyne. And when I came to 4CW, I brought some of the old Psyche with me. The Psyche that doesn’t hold back. The Psyche that will knock every breath you have out of your body. But surely you’ll underestimate me like everyone else. You’ll look at my thin frame and assume I’m weak. Look at my blonde hair and assume I’m stupid. Look at my pretty face and assume I can’t wrestle. I will prove the entire 4CW roster that that is wrong.”
The lights brightened, making the room brighter. She smirked, her green eyes flashing.
“This is where we’re at today. This is what this all has come to. In about a weeks time, I will face Ashley Lynn. The “Porn Star” of 4CW… “The Centerfold”. More like a poor man’s Rorie Steele. And judging by the man you hang around with… poor is exactly who you go for. You’re new here, love. Just like me. And from what I’ve seen already on Uprising… you’re nothing special. You lost your first match. A tag team match. With breaks between fighting, you still can’t even pull through with a win. So now they put you up against me. And… here’s the thing… I’m not letting you get off easy, Ashley. On one hand, stepping in the ring with you will likely be a death sentence by means of STI’s… but on the other hand, it’ll be amazing to smash your face into the mat.”
She bit her lip playfully before giving the camera a big smile.
“I don’t know what you think you know about me… but I’ll tell you this. My background info that can be found online is nothing compared to how I really am. You’ll only get so much there. You think you can use my background against me? Call me names that I’m used to being called? I’m sure that’ll be part of your little promo that you come up with. I’m sure you’ve heard a few of the things I’ve even just said. But you’re not complex. You’re one big stereotype. There’s no diversity to you. No depth. You’re a slut. A wannabe porn star. What else is there to say? Everything about you is literally said in two short sentences. And that’s pretty sad, love.”
She frowned mockingly. She had stopped pacing.
“You come here, expecting to be something. Expecting to go somewhere. But you’re going to stay right where you are for a long while. Right at the bottom of the card where you belong. You will never work your way up. You will never get a shot at any title. You will never be worth anything to anyone here except that pitiful excuse for a man you prance around with in your promos. You’re beneath me, Ashley. And I will show you that in every way imaginable.”
She brought her hand up, her index finger pointing downwards.
“So come prepared. Underestimating me will be your downfall if that’s the route you decide to go for. You’re a joke. And once I’m done beating your arse to the ground, I’ll wait excitedly to see you crawl back into the gutter where you came from. Or… we’ll just talk shit about your next porn film. Either way… you’ll be the laughing stock of 4CW. I'll be throwing you your own curveball, Ashley. And you won't catch it. You won't move out of the way. It will hit you right in between the eyes. See you later, Ash.”
She waved at the camera, a smirk playing across her lips once again. She winked just as the scene faded to black. |
|
|
