(Erica): You know what pendejos, I bet you wish you had someone in your miserable lives that cared for you the way mi Maestro cares for me. Mira este! A bottle of water. If I were a duck, one of you motherfukers would want my liver for that foie gras stuff. He’s practically force me to drink since I passed out a few nights back in the Zen room. The hangover was hell, I was nauseous as shit, but…
She takes a sip of water.
(Erica): ……….I didn’t vomit. I’m not weak stomached like you bitches. I remember getting in the shower, but don’t ask me about the rest of the day…my ass slept through.
She winces shifting her feet to the floor. She wiggled her toes and did a few of the physical therapy exercises she had learned and mumbled under her breath.
(Erica): …so sick of this shit. Diciembre, I’ve been out since December and they still won’t clear me. Still making me wear this fuking boot.
Erica reaches down beside the bed and pulls the boot up.
(Erica): At least I don’t have to sleep in it anymore, just walking and shit.
She grabbed her pack of cigarettes off the nightstand and is about to light one up but stops. She puts it back with a saddened look on her face, and turns her head to the closed door.
(Erica): He’s probably still sleep in his room right now ya know. It’s not the same, it’s…it’s lonely here man. I mean, he’s right here in the house, he’s fuking here, but he’s not here. Physically, but not mentally…I’m not used to this shit. It’s you ####ers and this DreamMaster bullshit. That demon, or whatever, he or it is. Soon as he split, you fukers got in his head.
(Erica): De repente quieres animar, make him feel guilty about shit, make him doubt himself. First it was “leave Hans and Vanessa alone”, then it was “that’s not the way” and “win the right way.”
She gets up from the bed, stretching her arm out, goes for a piss and returns to the room.
(Erica): Sabes que? I can’t wait for Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Mi Maestro is reuniting, and I guess I have you to thank for that Jeremy. You summoned DreamMaster and you’re gonna get him. He’s going to put an end to your career, just like he did Matt.
There’s a ping on her phone and she grabs it taking a look.
(Erica): Oh shit…Tobias is on his X again, slangin’ some truth at you fukers. You see….este chico….he knows what he’s talking about. He tells it like it is, just like me. You people don’t like hearing the truth. You don’t like it when I tell you about Sean Parker’s sweet little deal. The way they cater to him, full film crew to document his surgery, and watch…te apuesto cualquier cosa, they’re gonna clear him for Ring Master whether he’s ready or not. I’m going on 4 months, how the fuk can he have just had major surgery a week ago and be ready in another 2 months?
I don’t care who you are or what you do, the human body doesn’t work that way, but the Parker’s politics do. Ask mi maestro, he knows all about them….he’s hipped me to so much stuff it would make your head spin the shit they pull. Anyway…Tobias, mijo….mira…you go in there and do what you do. No offense to my girl Luna Rain, but her brother…I don’t think he has what it takes to beat you. The only thing you have to worry about is those fukers outside the ring. Man, I wish I could be out there. I would…
A noise in the background upstairs is heard and Erica turns here head to listen.
(Erica): He must be up, that’s my cue pendejos. Time to get to work, got some shit to do.
Off Camera Erica ends the live feed and gets dressed. She’s got a light exercise session scheduled with Maniac in the gym this morning and now that she knew he was up and about, they would be hitting the ground running. The day came and went as exepected, and the night came. She watched him train all day, train hard as if he were trying to numb himself. She couldn’t get in the ring with him, but he had a stand-in. She couldn’t help but notice his style change. Clean breaks, even before what would be a two-count. Submissions that didn’t seem to be applying the amount of force that they could. He was holding back.
Hesitant, maybe he seemed regretful about the decision he made about Blood, Sweat and Tears, giving in to Jeremy’s challenge, but she had no regrets herself. She couldn’t wait to see him in top form. He was even going to bed early. It was only 10:00 p.m. and he was wishing her a good night. What the fuk was up with that? She lingered in the Zen room, about to have a drink. “Just one,” he had told her, and she complied, but made it a nice double whiskey. It still counted as one….technically. She set the bottle back on the bar and took her time drinking it. It was over an hour later before she took the last sip she had slowly savored.
(Erica): Fuk, not even a mild buzz.
She heard the door open and his footsteps behind her re-entering the room.
(Erica): Couldn’t sleep huh? See, I knew you’d have at least one with me.
She turned around but it wasn’t her Maestro before her. It was his brother Santino, only his eyes…they glowed red and in an instant his hand was around her throat like a vice. She dropped her glass and it shattered on the floor as he lifted her off her feet, her hands trying to pry his grip from her throat to no avail as she choked and he stared at her. Suddenly, he flung her over the counter into the bar. Dozens of bottles breaking as she smashes into the wall and hit the ground. Booze and glass raining down on her as she tries to crawl to her knees, still gasping. His voice, that dark, growl of a demonic tone spoke to her.
(DreamMaster): You think you know everything, don’t you Erica?
Erica is crawling from behind the bar, and pulls herself up as DreamMaster advances on her. She raises her hand to hit him but he grasps her by the wrist twisting her arm forcing her back to the floor and he drags her across it before once again with a powerful heave, flings her across the room into the wall. She flies into the wall knocking several of Maniac’s band posters off the wall leaving her indent into the drywall. Through the pain she manages to mumble…
(Erica): ….wh…what do you want?
He laughs. It’s sadistic and wicked. Erica staggers to her feet, hobbling on her good leg. She didn’t know what the fuk was going on here, but her natural survival instincts kicked in and if it’s a fight to be had, she’ll answer it. She stood, facing the demon as he slowly walked towards her like a predator. She took a swing, but he swatted her hand with ease, again grabbing her by the throat, this time with less force.
(DreamMaster): What I want? An interesting question. First, I thought you were a distraction. Our poor Antonio is so easily distracted. I told him you were causing too much attention on us, and he promised he’d take care you…obviously he didn’t.
She could barely budge his hand, but did just enough to break free. A sick, but impressed smirk comes over his face.
(Erica): You left him because of me? Is that the kind of coward you are? Jealous of me?
DreamMaster throws his head back into a laugh.
(DreamMaster): You? Jealous of you…the student? The little girl a couple dollars and a boat ride away from being a slum whor back in Mexico.
Erica was pissed. She leapt at him slamming an elbow into his face and unleashed a barrage of shots. He covered up, finding an opening and nailed her with a gut punch that took the wind from her and brought her to her knees and he grabbed her by her hair.
(DreamMaster): That’s right, that’s who you are…isn’t it. The angry little girl that watched half her family die. You wanted the America Dream instead of your Mexican Nightmare, but no matter what you do….it’s always out of your reach. Isn’t it?
(Erica): Callate!
(DreamMaster): Your friends deserted you getting full roster rides while you were stacking those shelves at Target. Everyone trained in the day while you busted tables wiping your fingers on your apron from touching leftover food from people’s plates you could serve but couldn’t afford yourself.
Erica was fuming, and still fought back as best she could, but he kept her grounded.
(DreamMaster): Yes, anger….anger at the Sensei that didn’t have time for you, for the German who didn’t love you back, the fans and the peers who don’t respect you. Anger because your immigrant mother is still just a peasant cleaning houses because it’s the only job she can get and you haven’t quite reached that “Superstar” status yet…have you?
Erica was now enraged, and she screamed bloody murder as she reached up trying to gouge his eyes.
(DreamMaster): Oh yes, that’s it. Antonio has taught you much, and I helped. Still, you don’t know half of what there is to come. You see, I’m done playing games. Delight knowing that at Blood, Sweat, and Tears…I have been called upon and when Antonio enters the ring against poor Jeremy, when it is all said and done….I will reunite you with your Maestro. Isn’t that what you wanted?
He loosens his grip on her and she rises to her feet, but cannot look DreamMaster in the eyes.
(Erica): ……yes!
Anger and fury are etched on her face. Everything he said was true, the struggle of her family, the abandonment of her friends and of the company, Hans, the fans, everything. She fuking hated them all, she hated herself for not being that superstar yet to rise above them all, to pull her family fully and free from the dependencies of the world.
(DreamMaster): Now….say “Thank You!”
All that she cared about was Maniac right now. If having DreamMaster back made him whole again, she’d say whatever he wanted her to say. Nobody could stop them, no one was going to. She was going to show all those fuking pendjos who ruled this company, and the industry itself. She looked at him, Santino, but not Santino…DreamMaster.
(Erica): Thank you!
(DreamMaster): Now…kiss me! Let me see your gratitude.
She was caught a little off guard, but stepped forward towards him. In defiance of everyone and everything she put all of herself behind it and kissed him. It was less of a kiss as it was some sadomasochistic form of devouring. He gripped her at the waist and they bit into one another’s lips, tongues swimming and dancing in blood. He spun her around, ripping her clothes off from behind and within moments had thrust himself inside her. He took her there on the floor amidst the broken glass, cutting her skin but she didn’t care.
Finishing inside her, he smiled and pulled her up. All she could think of was how Jeremy was in for it at the ppv, he couldn’t beat her Maestro on a good day, let alone with him once again at his very best. She smiled back, feeling victorious, happy to play her small part in this is. Suddenly her scoops her up with a yelp and sent her to the glassy floor with the "Sweet Death" (Fireman's Carry into High Impact Reverse DDT). He stood there, looking down at her with red glowing eyes.
(DreamMaster): Oh Antonio….do we have work to do!
Erica was out cold and bloodied on the floor of the wrecked room as the scene faded to black.
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