Post by Danielle Basch on Feb 10, 2018 15:32:48 GMT -5
Point Vicente Lighthouse
Rancho Palos Verdes, CA
Friday, February 9, 2018
Near a steep cliff, hugged by the gentle lapping waves of the Pacific Ocean, a white tower stretches up toward the gradually darkening sky. At the top of the tower, leaning against the railing of the balcony, WCG South Bay Champion Danielle Basch looks out over the water as her hair flutters in the breeze. The red rays of the sun’s final blaze of light as it dips beyond the horizon flash against the surface of the South Bay Championship as it sits draped over Danielle’s shoulder.
Danielle: Some people are content to hold the memories of their greatest triumphs within the confines of their own minds, with no need for visual representation of their glory. Others... they want that visual, something tangible that, if nothing else, symbolizes what they’ve accomplished.
She doesn’t turn around. She just keeps her eyes fixed on the ocean, and the seagulls flying across the ever-darkening sky. Eventually, black lampposts that line the pathways leading up to the nearby museum begin to illuminate the surrounding grounds, with a pair of floodlights casting their warm glow upon the flagpole.
Danielle: For you, Jason Hunter, you cling to a bloodied, splintered and generally ruined kendo stick as the symbol of your “greatest triumph”... a death match with Melina Garrison. Now, I’m not going to knock her. Hell, I give her props just for getting into the ring with you under those circumstances, when a lot of women would’ve done just about anything to get out of a match like that.
She turns around, a defiant smile on her face as she stares into the camera, her hand gripping her championship belt.
Danielle: That’s right, Jason... I’m giving HER props for standing against you, even though the odds were clearly stacked against her. Because despite all that you did to her in that match, she’s still standing. She still has her pride, while all you have is some blood-stained wood.
Now, I watched as you sat there, holding your little broken stick in your hand and reminiscing over how you used it to bludgeon a woman half your size, and you actually did say something right about me. I don’t scare too easily. And if you knew anything about me at all, you’d understand why. Nothing you did in that match is anything new to me. Back in the company that used to employ me, matches like that happened at least once a month, and made what YOU did relatively tame by comparison. Not only that, but I have stared death in the face long before you were ever a blip on my radar, so I’m afraid that you’re just going to have to live with the fact that no matter what you do, this is one woman you will never have cowering at your feet.
She scoffs, blowing a tuft of hair away from her face as she walks inside, then heads toward the top of a narrow spiral staircase that twists its way down the inner wall of the tower.
Danielle: You want to know why I didn’t react to what you did to Melina? The answer is simple: because what you did to Melina has no bearing on your match against me. You see, this time, there won’t be a kendo stick, or any other weapons, for that matter, when you and I step through those ropes tomorrow night. Just you, me, and the referee. No gimmicks, no weapons... and unfortunately, not even my title is on the line. If anything, I have more of a reason to be mad than you do. But no, you’d rather sit there and cop an attitude, because you seem to want to confuse me with that harpy currently holding onto the West Coast Championship. Rather than THINK I’m better than everyone else because I’m the South Bay Champion, I prefer to show my opponents WHY I’m the South Bay Champion.
But while you’re sitting in your dark little room, bitching about how I’m not cowering at your feet and giving into your narcissistic desire to have people pissing their pants at the thought of facing you, I’m focused on one thing: training myself to be ready for whoever will be the next person to step into the ring and challenge me for the South Bay Championship. So the happenings in the rankings for a division I’m not even a part of isn’t of much concern to me. Maybe they will at some point down the line, but for now, I have my own set of contenders to deal with.
She grips her free hand around the railing, pausing to look down the staircase as it winds down toward a landing about halfway down. The inside is bare, save for a couple of narrow windows offering just the slightest glimpse of the world outside.
Danielle: So go ahead, bring the very best you can tomorrow, Jason. Bring your A game, bring your best moves, bring everything you’ve got to this match against me, because as always, I’ll be doing the same. But no matter what you do, the end result will be the same. Regardless of the outcome of this match, I’ll keep smiling as I look forward to my next challenge.
She makes her way down the staircase, carefully placing her foot on each step until she reaches the landing in the middle of the tower. There, she pauses, gazing out of the narrow window with a smile on her face.
Danielle: Still, there’s more going on tomorrow night than just our match. You and I will also be a part of the Lumberjack match where I get to watch my husband finally pry the West Coast Championship from the talons of that bitch that thinks she’s better than anyone else. By the time tomorrow night is over, it could very well be my husband and I standing side by side as champions, and this company will FINALLY have a West Coast Champion that will elevate that title to the prestige that it deserves.
She smirks again, then starts to head toward the second set of stairs. From where she’s standing, the glow from the lights outside of the lighthouse can be seen coming through the doors at the bottom of the tower. Pausing before she takes that first step, she lets out a low chuckle.
Danielle: But don’t feel too bad about not walking out of Hype with my championship. While I’ll be standing tall at the end of the night side by side with my husband, both of us with gold in our hands... at least you’ll still have your little broken stick....
She starts to laugh as she walks down the stairs, her laughter echoing throughout the tower as she disappears beneath the landing.
END