SOPHIE EL - "The Refusal to Evolve"

[Izzy Anders]

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She felt at fault for what had occurred to Zoey Adler. It hadn’t been for her disregard for faith and caution, Zoey wouldn’t have ended up in that situation. Words that were misunderstood resulted in a large fiasco that was out of her control. Sophie was at her wit’s end when it came to this whole ordeal. She clutched her phone in her hand and lingered on the edge of a bridge. Her legs dangled over the edge as she peered down into the abyss itself.

She checked the time once more, having done so three times prior. The person she was waiting upon was Anastasia Starling, a major player in this whole ordeal. The poor girl would be confused. Their Twitter conversation proved that to Sophie. So she decided to minimize her anger; Ana didn’t deserve it. However, she could probably break her phone with the amount of furious strength that coursed through her.

It was one person, that was all that Zoey knew. Every time the image of Zoey in the hospital bed came into her mind, Sophie felt a strange pressure. Her teeth felt larger than they should in her mouth. She lolled her tongue over them. Her eyes felt wired open. Finally, she couldn’t help but clench her hand repeatedly. It was her fault that Zoey got hurt. She was an innocent bystander.

Jackie Fowler had the audacity to joke about it. She felt like ripping his teeth out herself, but she knew that wouldn’t resolve anything. The weather was muggy, but nothing too jarring. Sophie didn’t mind. The off person walking past Sophie did seem concerned about her sitting there. Many tried to ask if she was alright, but she nodded in response. They carried on their business. None of them were Anastasia, though.

She noticed her from afar, a slight spring in her step as there always was, but this one seemed slower; maybe even a little nervous. Her long curls danced and pranced in the wind like wild horses springing up in a gallop. She wore an oversized pair of headphones, an overpowering pink like the cardigan she often wore, one she held tight to her as she trotted along, her wide discolored eyes staring out into the heavens. One eye was as blue as the ocean itself, whilst the other was the deepest green the artist had ever seen. She seemed in a daze, not noticing or caring where she was going, as people seemed to part around her like the red sea. She paused suddenly, frozen in place like a statue, as if Medusa herself had locked eyes on her and she had turned to stone. But it was not Medusa, head hissing with snakes that gazed upon her. It was Sophie.

Sophie swallowed hard when she made eye contact with Anastasia. All the fury that coursed through every portion of her strong figure was put aside in favor of awe. For a second there, she remembered why exactly she fell for Anastasia to begin with. If it was not her eccentric mannerisms and their charm, it was the beauty she possessed. The artistic fixtures of her mind wanted to take over everything else. Anastasia was an inspiration, plain and simple.

Sophie took her legs from over the bridge and put them over to the safer side. She looked downward, bringing herself back to the severity of their meeting. Anastasia hardly knew why they were meeting. Sophie promised her a month of them not being together, but like a bunch of other promises, this one had to be broken. She rose up off the edge and stood up straight, utilizing every inch of her Amazonian build to invoke seriousness.

“Ana,” she spoke out to her. She forced herself to keep eye contact. She couldn’t dare turn away now. She has stood as a harmful being for Anastasia over the past few months. There was no way she could be a coward now.

“Hi,” it was more of a whimper than a greeting, and Sophie could tell she was shaking slightly. She gently pulled off her headphones, the soft lullaby of “Little Wing” echoing quietly in the night. Her painted lips curled up in an attempt for a smile, her arms reaching out to her, then deciding against it at the final minute, deciding to comfort herself with a hug instead. “Are you okay? You seemed really, really mad on the Twitter machine.” She looked about herself, her heterochromia affected eyes squinting in the lamplight. “Why did you want to meet here? You said we were taking a trip somewhere?”

Sophie turned her head away, fighting internally with if she was going to do this or not. The congregation of people ready to tear Sophie apart if she hurt Ana again needed only one more thing. At this point, the numbness that the young girl felt since reawakening had settled again. It played a crucial role in her thought process as of late. Especially now.

“Yes, we’re going to the hospital,” Sophie admitted easily.

She begun down the opposite path, knowing that her car was parked elsewhere. “Follow me,” Sophie stopped momentarily to speak out to Ana. With her back turned, she bit down on her lip, having to fight against the mental pain of doing this to her loved one again. She slowly put her hands into her pockets, shrouding the fact that she dug her fingernails into her palm.

“This isn’t going to be fun,” she said, almost chuckling at the twisted nature of their meeting. Only grief remained at their destination.

Ana scrunched up her nose, giving it a little wiggle as she looked on in perpetual confusion. It was a look that Sophie tried to avoid, one that reminded her that the little circus girl was all sweetness and light underneath. Ana followed a half step behind, her hand reaching out, possibly purposely, possibly accidentally to brush her delicate fingers against Sophie’s strong arms. The pair moved in silence through the crowds towards the hospital, with only short breaks of sound as Starling sweetly whistled along to the ballad she was listening to before. Through corridors and doors, they waltzed, Sophie taking the lead in this rhythmic march towards their destination, Anastasia following obediently with stars in her eyes and who knew what thoughts ran rampant in her mind.

“Ana, what you’re about to see may make you upset. I apologize for this, but this has nothing to do with what you may believe. I need to find out who did this,” she knew her speech would only baffle Anastasia even more.

She counted the doors until she reached the one where Zoey stayed. She stood there, trying to compose herself internally. It worked somewhat, leading to her letting free a heavy sigh. “As I’ve stated, I have never meant to hurt you. If no one else in the world believes me, I can only hope that you believe that I do love you. But this may--” Sophie cut herself off, opting just to shove the door open. She walked inside of the hospital room, stone faced. As she saw the bed, she saw that Zoey was unconscious, perhaps under some sort of medication.

Ana looked to Sophie, a teary eyed expression of hope and wonder as those words began to sink in, but all of that changed in an instant. With the simplest of hand gestures, Sophie El pointed towards her unconscious friend and Starling’s eyes followed. She froze in her place, a look of bewilderment beginning to paint itself upon her features. Her skin grew white and pale as fresh snow, her lips began to quiver, her mouth beginning to water and as too did her eyes. She gazed upon the damage, the girl lay helpless in her tomb, seemingly apart from existence but for the occasional shallow breath. Her arms were black and blue, blotches on her wrists and hands, a handprint on her throat and cuts and grazes that littered her exposed flesh from head to toe. The sleeping beauty, wires going in and out of her pinkish skin, lay with her mouth open in slumber, two holes where her front teeth used to rest. Starling gripped her stomach, before covering her mouth as she yelped like the daintiest little dog, sprinting to the trash bin across the hall, sliding upon her knees as she began to retch and vomit.

The sudden reaction broke the stony expression upon Sophie’s visage. She rushed for Ana, sitting down next to her. Obvious panic washed over every other emotion possible. “Ana, Ana, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I just needed you to see this. Someone did this to her. It wasn’t you; it wasn’t Jackie. Who could have done this to her?” she paused, suddenly remembering the cryptic words that Zoey told her.

Anastasia’s importance was beyond even Sophie’s own. While Anastasia vomited, she held her hand, making sure that she knew she was here for her. Her other hand rose to her face, realizing that a few tears had rolled down her face. She kept her head lowered while she waited for Anastasia to stop.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, a waterfall coming crashing down from her eyes and hitting the rocks below. She stared at Zoey as her chest slowly inhaled and exhaled in her sleep, the sounds of sickness doing nothing to wake her up. “W-what?” she stumbled on her words as if tripping upon a tile in the street, stopping and starting as she tried to catch her breath, horror and shock upon her face. “W-w-what do you mean someone did this? She looks like she’s been in car crash.” She stared at Sophie, her eyes still lit up. “A car crash?”

Sophie stood up, walking over to a stand next to Zoey. She took a quick glance at the injured girl, twitching as she did. She picked up a few napkins before sitting back down in front of Anastasia. Softly, she dabbed away any mess on Anastasia’s face. Once she finished, she took a hold of Anastasia’s hand again. “The girl being of their blood, and her eyes being of great importance,” Sophie recited the very words that Zoey told her. She kept her eyes towards the ground. “Does that mean anything to you, Ana?”

“I-I…” her eyes searched the room, seemingly looking for or at something that Sophie couldn’t see, an invisible answer to an impossible riddle. “I d-don’t understand. Their blood? Eyes?” It was unclear what she was thinking, she seemed in the midst of bewilderment once more. Sophie had realized the Songbird was gently stroking the back of her hand, a comforting feeling to her, and seemingly to Ana as her quickened breath seemed to slow and become more steady. “My eyes? What about my eyes? Is it my eyes you’re talking about? Only I have my eyes. I don’t understand. I-I…” Thoughts began gathering in her mind, but in an instant she pushed Sophie’s hand away, kicking the floor to push herself backwards, shuffling back into the wall till she banged her head upon the paintwork. Dust and debris came floated down like leaves from an Autumn tree and she retracted her hands from the blonde artist’s reach. “Why are you here?”

Sophie got up and got ready to stop Anastasia if she continued to harm herself. A trickle of blood appeared upon Anastasia’s forehead, which made Sophie’s eyes widen. “Why? What? What do you mean, Ana?” Sophie asked, trying to assume a gentle position. She looked down at the debris, then back at the door. People might be coming soon enough.

“Y-you said… you needed time,” she paused, trying to regain her breath, unable to hold Sophie’s gaze. “You said-- you said you needed time to think.” She turned to her, the trickle of blood falling down, mixing in with the steady stream of tears and running makeup. “But it was time with her.” She pulled her knees up, hugging them tightly as she bashed the back of her head against the wall once more, with no regard to how it felt. It was a feeling. It was anything. “I’m such a fucking idiot,” she whimpered.

“It wasn’t time with her,” Sophie didn’t move. She remained still as she looked upon the crying girl before her. “She wanted to come see Smoke and Mirrors. She has never been to a HKW show before,” Sophie explained, looking at the door again. No one had come rushing, which perplexed some part of Sophie’s mind.

“You’re not an idiot,” Sophie said lowly, feeling a sharp pain in herself. Perhaps it was the overwhelming guilt and the pain of looking upon Anastasia crying once more? Sophie shook her head. “I’m the idiot. You’re just a victim of my stupidity. As always,” Sophie continued, before sitting down on the opposite end of the hospital.

“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing she could say. Sophie found it pathetic, honestly. She dug her nails into the meat of her leg, forcing blood to rush to the surface. “I shouldn’t have brought you here,” she added after a moment of carving her leg. She pressed her hand over the fresh wound in order to try to hide it.

If Ana had noticed, she hadn’t shown it. It was glaringly obvious that she was struggling to even look at her. When she did, Sophie could see the pain in her beautiful eyes, numb to the physical pain but in agony to the mental. “Please… please don’t lie. It hurts when you lie,” her whimpers were slowly becoming sobs. “You wanted her, you wanted her and you left me. You took everything with you and went with her.” In a sudden lunge she gripped hold of Sophie’s hand and placed it on her beating chest. Sophie’s wasn’t clear whether this was a burst of unknown strength, or whether she had suddenly become too weak to pull away. Ana held her tight, staring at her dead in the eye, piercing her very soul. “You took this. Y-you took this. I gave it to you and I meant it and you took it like it was nothing. Nothing!” She was struggling to contain herself now, breaking down in front of her, becoming a shallow shell of the hopeful and happy circus girl she felt so deeply for. “I meant every word. Every single one of them. I gave you my heart. I gave it to you. Only you.” Her head fell onto her shoulders, giving up its strength and collapsing under the weight of the world. “And it wasn’t enough. I-it wasn’t enough.”

“What are you going to do?”

The voice rang out in Sophie’s head as she looked aimlessly upon Anastasia. Anastasia held on with enough strength to cause pain to flourish in her wrist. Sophie didn’t bother pulling away, instead letting Anastasia sob and release her full blown rage in front of her, at her. Sophie didn’t cry, or even emote.

“The girl you love is about to leave you, you know.”

If it was Sophia or some imaginative conjuration of her, it did not matter. She spoke to Sophie in a clear, hostile tone. “So will you just sit there and let her leave? Or do you try to owe up to your mistakes for once in your pathetic life?”

~x~

“Two people that have been defined by their failures.”

The paintings were nothing grandiose, just realism.

“The thing is, I would berate you two based on that alone. There’s plenty of things I could discuss in that subject alone. That would make me the common woman, huh? No, failure is a constant in the world of wrestling. If you’re not prepared to fail, then there’s no point in any of us being here. Championship matches, the awards, the recognition. We all strive for something and many times we fail to obtain said thing.”

“It would be hypocritical for me to do so, anyways. I have had my fair share of failures. The one that haunts me and was brought up by Silk and Cyanide is the accident that left my mind riddled with mysteries and haziness. I know of the time that I failed to take a ring for myself at HKW’s biggest event. Do these failures haunt me? No, because they were catalysts for my evolution as an individual. Instead of sitting here and moping about a single failure, I decided to step up and change.”

“That’s what I fail to see in you two. Dan Herrera and Cordy Stevenson, FGA’s favorite failures. Their biggest two. That’s not necessarily an insult. You two will take it as such. If you don’t, I’ll be impressed. Yet, the thing that I see mostly out of you two is stagnation. That’s the worst thing in wrestling, not only for the wrestlers, but the business itself.”

“Dan,” Sophie looked up at the painting of Dan she made, “You have seen your world crumble several times over and you have tried to build it back up some many times. You went from a CEO to a stumbling wrestler. Sad, really.”

“But your story isn’t as magnificent as Cordy’s.”

She looked at the photo-realistic portrait of Cordy. “Cordelia, I know that you have seen your partner get ahead of you. Let’s go back a year ago, a time where Saint Sexy, cute name by the way, was the prospect that everyone cared for. Cyncity was a villain, and beyond that, no one expected her to win the FGA World Championship. And for those who did believe, they all agreed that you would come first. You had the world behind you the two times that you fought for it.”

“Against Jimmy Page, possibly the vilest man in wrestling today, you were the favorite. You were the hero. Not just the arbitrary moniker, no. Cordelia, darling, you were the hero. The world had the spotlight on you. Cyncity was the victim. Page was the villain that needed to be stopped. You brought the power of two women, but you fell to him. Nothing truly changed.”

“Against Chandler Scott, you had all the hype again. You won the Gold Rush Rumble. People claimed this match as one of the Match of the Year candidates. People were blown away…by another one of your failures. Nothing changed there. You got injured shortly after and now you’re back, but sans one thing.”

“You don’t have the world on your back this time.”

“No, I’ll never say that people have turned on you. No, people still love you. You’re amazing. You’re a buxom woman with too much skill flowing through that beautiful body of yours. I have had some immense fun painting this portrait of you. I hope you love it as much as I do,” Sophie patted the painting. “It’s that you have remained a statue in the waking world.”

“Cyncity, for example, stands as a testament to your inertia.”

“While you recuperated, she has made her change back to the side of light. She pushed herself. She defeated her enemies and captured the very thing that everyone wanted you to win. She won the FGA World Championship. She became the one thing that everyone thought you were going to be. Even past that, she had a few amazing matches and retired.”

“It’s not your fault that you were injured, but it was your fault that you didn’t change before then. It’s even funnier than you’re in this tournament. I wonder how many expected you to come back and try to pummel Zero McHannon to a bloody mess. It would have been interesting, to say the least. No, you threw everyone a curveball and teamed up with Dan Herrera to fight in Dynamic Duos.”

“Now you’re in the finals, where you stand before My Lady and I.”

“Let me ask you both this question. You came into this tournament to rectify another of your failures, hm? Last year, Dan, you suffered due to the folly of man. I should say ‘woman’, since you didn’t get to the finals because of your sister. How siblings can ruin things is beyond me. Cordy, you and Cyncity almost made it to the finals too. But you got defeated by the Sparklebuddies,” Sophie giggled to herself. “What a cute team name.”

“Anyways, this scenario is painful to think of. My Lady and I are going to take away this opportunity from change from you. You’ll both have to think of a new way to change, because this isn’t the way.”

“My Lady and I have already made it this far and we don’t plan on going home without a victory. Because we have never stayed stagnant. We’ve always changed. Metamorphosis underlies our whole beings. We used to be sufferers. Now we are the victorious. We have truly gained immortality.”

“You two will fall to us, because you’re too busy catching up.”