All or Nothing

Barclays Center
Brooklyn, NY
Saturday, September 16, 2017

Aurora sat beneath the shade of a green Starbucks umbrella, a half-empty venti Caramel Frappuccino in her hand – extra caramel, of course. Draped over her shoulder was one of the New Generation Wrestling Tag Team Championship belts, the same title she’s held in her possession since she and her husband won them over a year ago.

She stared outward toward Atlantic Avenue, the sun shining down on the far half of the table as she brought the long black straw to her lips, taking a long drink before setting her cup down.

Aurora: So this is what it’s come to...

Aurora spread her New Generation Wrestling Tag Team Championship belt across the table, letting the sunlight shine against the glossy surface of the center plate. Her long, red-painted nails clicked as she dragged them against the edges of the lettering.

Aurora: It’s well known that there was a time where winning titles wasn’t on my list of priorities. Maybe it was because I didn’t want my ex to get to benefit from a champion’s salary – I don’t know. But it wasn’t until I joined NGW that I felt I’d really found a place that was worth sticking around for. And look what happened. I ended up meeting the love of my life, and the one that has fought by my side ever since. Ours is a partnership that has spanned both of our careers across three different companies, both in and out of the ring. And why?

Because we’ve always had each other’s backs. My husband has never given me reason not to trust him. No matter what, I can always count on him to be there when I need him. We may have come together by chance, but in him, I’ve found the other half of my soul, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

She took another sip as a pigeon flew down, perching just a few inches away from the belt. She quickly shooed the bird away, then grabbed the belt and draped it back over her shoulder.

Aurora: But enough of the romantic mumbo jumbo; let’s get down to the blood and guts of the matter. We are literally one day away from the final showdown between Rebel Ink and the Young Cubs. And this time, winner takes all.

My husband, who never has been one for mincing words, has made it abundantly clear where he stands as far as who WE think are the rightful champions. And while I’m nowhere near as blunt as he is, I agree with him. Alechs, you can rationalize it all you want; say that the referee counted to three until you’re blue in the face, but you and Honey – hell, the whole fucking WORLD knows the truth.

Damon was never pinned. The referee counted, but he didn’t bother to make sure that Damon’s shoulders were down. His shoulders were off the mat, therefore, that pin shouldn’t have counted. Now, if you were anywhere near the honorable people you claim to be, you would have vacated those titles once you realized you didn’t really earn them. But what did you do instead? You chose to ignore the truth, and you’ve convinced yourselves that you actually won those belts that you hold. Sorry, but I refuse to acknowledge the two of you as champions. Until you can legitimately pin us, you have no right to call yourselves the Tag Team Champions.

She got up from the table and finished her drink, tossing the empty cup into a nearby trash can. With the title draped over her shoulder, she walked toward the sidewalk. With her free hand slipped into her back pocket, she wrapped her fingers around the edge of her belt.

Aurora: I’m going to take a page from my husband’s book and just be blunt. I’m sick of it all. I’m sick of seeing your names across the card from ours. Not because I think you two are shit wrestlers; I’m just sick of facing the same team over and over again. I’m sick of the back and forth, I’m sick of the endless strings of tweets clogging up my feed! I said everything I was going to say on the matter the moment the card was published to the masses. But let me reiterate...

At Convergence, one way or another, this shit gets settled. This Sunday, it all comes to an end. Two tag teams will walk in with title belts draped over their shoulders, and when it’s all said and done, one team will walk away with nothing. My job is to see to it that my partner and I do everything we can to make sure that we walk out of there with the titles as the rightful champions, while you two go back to the bottom of the ladder.

She looked down the street, craning her neck as if she was watching for someone. After a few seconds, she straightened up, stepping back away from the curb.

Aurora: But here’s the real kicker – even on the chance that you manage to beat us, that’s still just going to be the tip of the iceberg. There are plenty of tag teams waiting in the wings, teams that are just as eager for the contention between us to be over as we are. Teams that will come at you just as hard as us. You think having us chasing after you is tiring... whichever team walks away with all of the gold is gonna have their work cut out for them. Meanwhile, it’ll be a long time before ANY other tag team can match what Rebel Ink has been able to do.

I have held the belt that you see draped over my shoulder for over a year. And I can still remember the night Damon and I won our first championship as if it were yesterday. Now, we’re putting everything on the line, knowing that there’s a chance that we could walk away empty-handed. But it doesn’t matter which team wins tomorrow. One way or another, you two will be in our rear view, and there will be no looking back.

A white Rolls Royce Corniche pulled up to the curb with the top down. Behind the wheel sat West Coast Genesis star Donovan Basch, with his fiancée Danni LeBlanc riding shotgun. Sitting in the seat behind Donovan was her husband and tag team partner Damon, with his own half of the NGW Tag Team Championships draped over his shoulder. He smirked at his wife as he peered over the frame of his sunglasses.

Damon: Hey there, beautiful! You want a ride?

Aurora winked at her husband, smiled at the others, then jumped into the backseat. She settled against the smooth tan leather before Donovan drove away.