Annie's Story 045 - Legacy Title Match

[Deleted]

“Heyyy guys,” Annie says as she waves at the camera, smiling wryly to herself. Instead of her usual placement perched atop her bed, she’s currently in a hotel room in Newcastle. The ceiling light is on as Annie sits back in the cushioned chair, wearing a #grrface hoodie with the hood up. “I just wanna start this off by saying this is gonna be a little different from last time I spoke to you all, ‘cause that was about the Gold Rush Rumble. And the chance to face twenty-nine of the best wrestlers all competing for a shot at the World title is kinda different from my other match on Saturday night…”

“And I can’t look forward to this match in the same way, ‘cause every time I think about facing Savannah and Izzy on Saturday night I…” she pauses, “…I get kinda angry. Just when I think of what brought us here. And, like, when I think of what’s happened between us these last few months. And I’ll start with Savannah; ‘cause when you first came to FGA I did my best to make sure you felt welcome. I was nothing but kind to you, inviting you to meet the rest of the roster, giving you your first pay-per-view match. And what did you do?”

“You screwed me! You took a handful of my shorts and cheated me out of our match; you can tell me I shoulda known better, that it’s in your, like, nature or whatever. You can tell me that you don’t fight clean, but I thought maybe it would be different ‘cause we were friends. I thought it’d be different ‘cause we were close.”

“But we weren’t close, were we?” Annie asks with a shrug. “We weren’t even friends; you couldn’t stand me, you just didn’t’ have the – what? – you didn’t have the heart to tell me? Or you didn’t have the guts? ‘Cause for the life of me, Savannah, I can’t decide which it is!”

“It’s fine if you didn’t like me, Savannah. I know I can be annoying, I know I can be a pain in the butt sometimes. But why didn’t you just tell me? Why did you pretend to be my friend? Why did you accept my challenge and tell me it’ll be a friendly match when you had no intention of playing fair?”

“And now we’re in a no disqualification triple threat match. You’re just four months in and you’ve got a title shot here, and the chance to become the fastest wrestler to become a champion here since Chris Q won the FGA title. And you can do it, I know you can. ‘Cause you’re talented. You’re an awesome wrestler when you wanna be; I wasn’t blowing smoke up your butt when I told you all that before Canadian Stampede.”

“But this isn’t Canadian Stampede, and I’m not going in to Saturday night with those expectations, ‘cause this is gonna be a war. I just wonder how it got like that…”

“Was it when I was the referee? Was that when you got up the nerve to challenge me? That’s when you started to show your true colours, isn’t it? That’s when the Savannah that people warned me about started to show up. And ever since that night you’ve just been awakened. You got the win in the tag match, you beat me, you even had your arm raised and got proclaimed the new Legacy champion…” Annie averts her gaze from the camera momentarily, “…except someone had to show up and ruin your fun.”

“What was it you said last week? I’m responsible for Izzy holding the title belt right now. And you’re gonna ask me why I did that, aren’t you? You’re gonna ask me why I helped Izzy Anders…” she shakes her head, “…I don’t like Izzy, in fact I probably hate her. More than almost anyone in this sport, but title reigns like hers don’t deserve to be ended like that. For all her faults, Izzy deserves to lose that belt cleanly. Especially if that means we don’t have to hear her caw about how she was screwed out of her title belt. How she got screwed out of her chance to face Dom Harter again…”

“‘Cause that’s your worry right now, isn’t it, Izzy? It’s all you’ve wanted for the last year. It’s what you wanted back at last year’s rumble, but you couldn’t last long enough to see him enter at number thirty! Then you had to wait ninety days while he was suspended, and all that time you took to poking and prodding him. But still he didn’t pay you that attention, did he, Izzy? He went after Cyncity first.” Annie shakes her head.

“But you got him back. And you broke Dom Harter at Final Frontier. You put him on the shelf for six months, defeated him for the belt he needs for the Grand Slam. You took everything from him…” she pauses, “…right? And you know when he heals in a couple of months he’s gonna come back and want revenge against you. And you’re gonna be ready for him…”

“Newsflash,” Annie quips, “you didn’t break Dom Harter. He dislocated his shoulder when he fell from the turnbuckle. All you did was make it worse.”

“But even then, he’s not broken, Izzy. He’s out there making movies, and putting on concerts, and that has to be eating you up. That he’s not stewing in his rage, or sitting in a dark room planning his revenge against you.”

“And I think I know why that is. ‘Cause he doesn’t want you, Izzy. He wants that title belt. That’s why he made sure Savannah knew it before your match together. So if me or Savannah walk out of the Gold Rush Rumble as the new Legacy champion, that target gets taken off your back.”

“And he’ll come for us instead, and you can go back to being ignored by the man whose attention you crave. You can go back to being the person who came to FGA last year all bright and excited. Who won her debut in the fatal five way match. Who became Legacy champion within a few months…” Annie pauses again, “…and not the girl you are now, after Dom Harter broke you.”

“‘Cause he did.” Annie states, bluntly, “And so quickly too. I don’t like what he did to you, I don’t like what any of the masked men did to you. But for all the times you’ve called me weak. That you’ve called me a hypocrite! Look in the mirror, Izzy; for three years I’ve taken what people throw at me. Whether it’s Ava Adore, Luke Wisia, The Black Hand, Savannah, Seth Lawless, Tony Carmine, Chandler Scott, Jimmy Page; three years and I haven’t let them break me! Three years and I’m not the one attacking an injured man with a chair. Coward. So, tell me, Izzy, who’s the weak one between us?”

“And now you wanna make this no disqualification so you can put the hurt on me. On Savannah. I dunno what you’re planning, Izzy, but this isn’t my first hardcore match. I made it to the semi finals of the Queen of the Deathmatch; I beat Sativa Nevaeh and Summer in one night, before I lost to Cordy. I wrestled against eight of the best deathmatch wrestlers around last year. So if you think you scare me, you’re wrong; I’m not going into this match afraid of you...”

“I’m going into this match to put you out of misery; I’m gonna take that title belt from you, remove that target from your back, and I’ll carry that burden before you break down completely. Before you lose those last few shreds of your dignity. Your humanity. So you can go off and find a spine, you coward, ‘cause I don’t know how you’re even standing without one. But this Saturday night you’re not breaking anyone. You’re not leaving with that title belt, you’re not leaving with a shot at the World title. This is gonna be your rebirth, Izzy, so you can make another go of it. ‘Cause after I put you out of your misery you’re gonna ask me why I took everything you hold dear.”

“And I’ll tell you what I told you last year,” she pauses, “‘cause it’s the right thing to do.”

---

Sunday April 3rd
Annie bounds down the stairs as the doorbell rings again. She hasn’t had much of a chance to relax since getting back from England, what with the FGA show and all. So she’s dressed casually in sweat pants and a hoodie. Annie stops at the door to peer through the peephole, before opening it.

“Kerry!” She exclaims in delight, before wrapping her arms around Kerry Windsor’s torso in a friendly bearhug. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Nice to see you too, Annie,” he replies, returning the hug momentarily before they separate. Kerry smooths down his sky blue dress shirt as he enters the house, patting Rolf on the head as the shiba inu walks around his ankles. “And I hear congratulations are in order?”

“Aww yeah. New SSWA Trios Champions,” Annie replies, brushing off her shoulders as she grins from ear to ear. Annie, Molly Reid, and Emily Carter recently captured the trios titles over in the UK. Which was just the boost Annie needed going into a busy month.

“Well congratulations,” Kerry says, “I know you could do it.”

“Thanks, Kerry. Now, do you want a coffee or anything?” Annie asks, bringing Kerry back to the matter at hand. He’s been invited over under the premise of catching up, but he knows that Annie wants his advice about something; she’s been that open about things, although she hasn’t mentioned what it is that she wants to talk to him about.

“I trust you make a helluva cup,” Kerry jokes, and Annie giggles behind a raised hand.

“The best you’ll ever taste,” she replies before implying Kerry should make himself comfortable in the living room while she gets their coffees ready. He takes a seat on the sofa before he looks down at the coffee table, before grabbing up the new April edition of Playboy as Annie returns to him with two cups of coffee in her hand. “Thanks, Annie. And Harter’s leaving his reading material out in the open I see…” Kerry jokes.

“Uh, that’s not Dom’s…” Annie mumbles under her breath, just loud enough for Kerry to hear her. His jaw drops in shock; he doesn’t know about a third person in the house, so his inference is that this is Annie’s magazine. That, and Camille Rowe looks stunning on the cover. “...it’s mine.” She admits in a louder voice than before.

“Yours?” Kerry asks. “Annie Zellor, always full of surprises…”

“It’s…” Annie pauses, her head rocking from side to side as she winces, trying to think of the words. A soothing sip of her coffee helps her compose herself though. “...it’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you. You know I love you, and I value your opinion, and after your help with the whole Noelle thing last year I trust you, Kerry,” she pauses again, involuntarily rolling her eyes at the mention of one of her rivals, “so I really need your advice on a career issue…”

“A career issue?” He reiterates, noting her tone. “What’s going on, Annie?” He shifts his body, giving her his undivided attention.

“Before I tell you that can I just ask you…” she grabs up the Playboy magazine from off the table, where Kerry put it down, and holds it up in front of her. “...what do you think of Camille Rowe? Like, as a person.”

The French model stares off into the distance, wearing only a powder blue bra, her dirty blonde hair cascading down across her shoulders. Kerry looks down at the cover again, inspecting it before he replies, “As a person?” Her question causes him to raise a brow. “I don’t know her, Annie. I can’t tell you what I think of her as a person.” He focuses his gaze back onto the picture, cocking his head to the side as he inspects it. “But other than that, she’s not my type. I need a little bit more curves.” He admits with a chuckle. “Why do you ask though? You trying to set me up on a blind date or something?!” He pauses for a second before accusing. “Did Star put you up to this?! She’s trying to entrap me isn’t she?” He questions, shaking his head. “And you’re over here helping her. As usual.”

Annie giggles softly, “It’s not Star trying to trap you - and I’m not a traitor!” Annie takes a deep breath, looking back at the cover herself before the asks the question she’s been dying to ask. “But what would you think about her if that was me on the cover?”

“If that were y--” He cuts himself off before he can even finish the sentence. “On the cover of playboy?” He asks, trying to make sure he was getting it right. Surely, she has to be joking right? Annie Zellor on the cover of Playboy magazine? She was definitely trying to pull one over on him.

“Well, no , I’d be the centerfold…” she interrupts Kerry’s train of thought.

The laughter stops. There is a lingering silence as he looks at her, waiting for the jig to be up but he soon realizes that it won’t be. “Wait, you’re serious? Playboy? They want you?” He asks incredulously, but soon realizes that it could be taken the wrong way, so he tries to clean it up a bit. “Not that they wouldn’t or anything, it’s just…” That’s his cue to take a sip of coffee. “You’re serious?”

Annie nods, pouting softly as she does so. A shrug of the shoulders and she finally speaks up, “They’re doing a ‘Girls Next Door’ issue this Summer, and they asked to be Miss July 2016.” Damn, that title is growing on her more and more each time she says it, “But, it’s Playboy and I know you know what that means to people. And it’s not like I’ve made up my mind yet-” although they are beginning to press her for an answer, “-but it’s just such a massive step. And I asked my Dad, and Fel, and Chase what they thought, and they said they’d support me whatever I decided. Laurel and Dayshia said I should do it if it’s what I really want, and if I’m comfortable with it. And Dom said it’s an honour to be chosen and I should show off my ‘hot body’...” She throws up the air quotes, but a wry smile creeps across her face. “...as my friend though, whaddya think?”

He nods as he listens to everything she has to say. Finally, he lets out a sigh as he ponders over his response before chuckling. “Annie Zellor and Playboy. Two things I’d never in a million years think would be uttered in the same sentence, but here we are.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks at her. “Annie, you’re growing up. As hard as it is for people to realize that sometimes, that’s just what it is, you know? Some people might not agree with the move, just because they want to hold on to that image of the young naive girl that first came into the business. But, I’ll say this, and I hope this is something that you keep in mind. You’re a brand, and your brand is something that will long outlive your time in the ring. That’s something I’ve always embedded into students of mine, because the wrestling business isn’t forever, and your brand is definitely something that you should be conscious of growing. Now, first off, if it’s not something you’re comfortable with, don’t do it; but if it is something you’re seriously considering, which I can tell that you are -- how do you think it will effect the brand that you are establishing?” He wants her to ponder that. He’s always been more keen on seeing things from a business point of view. “Personally? I think it can do wonders for you; open new doors, and things of that nature.” He shrugs. “And besides, I’d rather there be tasteful playboy shots of you out there than any more mugshots from back alley romps.” He jokes with a wink, not being able to help himself.

“Kerry!” She punches him on the shoulder and pouts again “I know that mugshot wasn’t a pretty picture…” she grumbles.

“You ain’t the only one.” He cracks, trying his best to stifle a laugh.

“But I know doing Playboy might, like, isolate some of my younger fans,” she admits, solemnly, “‘cause their parents won’t want them idolizing a Playmate or whatever. But then maybe some new fans might start watching wrestling ‘cause of it. And when I do modelling jobs in the future, I get to say I’m a Playmate!”

“And that’s a big deal.” He points out. “That has clout and it generates a buzz for your brand. I think the biggest thing giving you pause here is wondering whether or not people will look at you differently.” He reaches out and picks up the magazine. “I don’t know her, but I do know you Annie. And I don’t think that taking some pictures for a magazine is gonna change who you are. I know I won’t look at ya any differently or think any less of you and I’m sure the people that care about ya won’t either. You’ll still just be Annie the traitor in my eyes.” He teases. “Just promise me that when you’re this world famous centerfold, you won’t be too busy to book a photoshoot with me when I get my photography venture going.”

“I’ll be your first client,” Annie nudges him with her elbow, “but I’ll have to charge extra ‘cause I’ll be famous.” She sips her coffee, giving Kerry the sly eyes from above the rim of the cup as the scene ends.

---

Friday April 15th
“Come on, cher, lets get you back to the room,” Chase slurs as he escorts his fiancée down the corridor of the hotel.

“But it’s early still,” Annie whines, unaware that it’s nearing three in the morning. “Just one more dance? Pleeeeeease.”

“We’ll dance in our room,” Chase tries to compromise with her; Annie’s eyes light up at the suggestion as she raises her hand that’s not around Chase’s waist up into the air, her heels still clasped in her grasp. “But we’ve got to get back there first, cher.”

“I know, I know,” Annie replies before she stops outside a door. “You go ahead, I’ll meet you there. I’ve just gotta tell Dommy something…”

“Ok,” Chase replies as he walks down three more doors to their room. Annie knocks three times and stands back. A moment later and the door opens; Dom is standing there in a pair of boxers.

“Your room is down there,” he jests.

“I know,” Annie laughs, “I just, uh, I wanted to say thanks for all your help with tonight.” She slurs her way through the sentence.

“My pleasure–” but Dom trails off as he notices Annie peering around him. As he turns around to see what she’s looking at, Annie sneaks into the room to grab the stray bra from off the back of a chair. She holds it up and giggles, “Whose is this? Did you get lucky tonight?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he deflects the question.

Annie puts the bra back where she found it and quips, “Yeah, but you’re Dom Harter, you’re not a gentleman.” He shrugs as Annie giggles again, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “But you are, like, one of the kindest, sweetest guys I know.”

Dom returns the hug, wrapping his strong arms around Annie’s shoulders. Her head nestled against his chest, and she feels so comfortable there. So warm. “You’re welcome, Annie.” He says, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. But her head turns; her mind evoking the memories of the compliments Dom has dealt to her recently, the ‘beautiful’ remark, the ‘hot body’ comment, and she’s powerless to resist as she pushes her lips against his. He seems to jump back slightly, but still the kiss lingers as his lips part to receive her insistent tongue. Her body trembles as the embrace breaks finally; the pair of them staring at one another as his hand cups her face, his thumb running across her jaw and down her neck, towards the zip on the back of her dress. Within a few moments the straps of her dress are sliding off her shoulders as the red dress falls to the floor, leaving her standing before him in nothing more than her underwear…


WORD COUNT: 3499
Kerry Windsor appears with permission