Post by Oceane Jourdain on Feb 4, 2018 22:03:25 GMT -5
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♕ INT. PRINCE NIK’S OFFICE - THE LGT GROUP - VADUZ, LIECHTENSTEIN - FEBRUARY 1ST, 2018
“Again?”
Anaxandra Patel took a peak over her boss’ shoulder and shook her pretty, dark head. Prince Nik had probably watched Lights Out #17 half a dozen times since it had aired and always his reaction remained the same.
Expressionless.
“Ja.”
Ana sighed and moved around to sit down in one of the expensive leather chairs that sat across from Nik’s massive glass-top desk. The British-born Patel had been Nik’s personal assistant for the last three years. She had been with him through every up and down since his break-up with Oceane Jourdain, and Ana knew that Nik’s heart would always belong to the spoiled brunette socialite. It didn’t matter what awful thing Oceane and her bestie, Sabina Sainte, did or said. The sun would always rise and set on Oceane.
She hits a beautiful flying headbutt on Noah Reigner! Jourdain then hooks a leg to push Noah’s shoulders flush against the mat.
… One!
… Two!
...Th-Broken up!
“That should have been the end.”
Reigner gets to his feet in somewhat of a daze after Reyes breaks up the pin. Jourdain tags in Sabina completely consumed with frustration after the break. Rumble Reyes suddenly drops off the apron and circles the ring. Oceane notices this and hops off the apron after the tag while Sabina looks at Noah for a moment before deciding to get into the ring. On the outside, Reyes hammers a charging Jourdain with a brutal clothesline!
“She never should have gone to the outside.”
Reigner suddenly comes to life and charges at Sabina. He drop kicks her in the shin while Reyes catches her from behind with a bulldog! The incredible tag team maneuver leads the crowd to pop! Reyes rolls out of the ring while Reigner hooks Sabina’s left leg.
… One!
… Two!
… Three!
“Das war eine katastrophe,” Nik shook his head and rapped his knuckles against the top of his desk. Untouched paperwork was scattered everywhere and Ana had already cancelled his appointments for the day. The prince’s mind was clearly elsewhere and ever since Oceane had been announced as a Union Battleground signee, she had definitely consumed his thoughts. “Fehler nach fehler.”
Ana had picked up quite a bit of German since moving to Vaduz, but she mainly spoke in English to Nik. “Was it really a disaster though? They did make mistakes, but it was their first ever match. For the most part, I think they both did amazing.” She had probably seen the match as many times as Nik. “It fell apart at the end for them, but neither have anything to be ashamed of.”
“Oceane is a perfectionist and she does not like to lose. She stopped speaking to me for nearly a week when I beat her at chess. We never played another game. I have doubts that she has changed that much in two years. She is still Oceane, and she will take it personal and to the heart.”
“But they will both have another chance, right?” Ana furrowed her brow. She didn’t recall seeing anything about The Patron Saintes advertised for Lights Out 18. “They’re exclusive to Union.”
Nik knew every detail of Oceane and Sabina’s contracts with Union Battleground. He actually knew everything both women had done since he’d last seen them. “They’re not scheduled for television,” he finally replied. The protective part of Nik was furious at the fact Union had no clue the type of talent they had on their hands. The small part of him that still hurt from Oceane leaving him felt validated. He didn’t want it to be easy for his ex-fiancee and he wanted her to remember absolutely everything she had thrown away to chase this dream. “They will appear in some capacity but we will not see them compete.”
“A shame.”
“It will be a lesson.” Nik sat back in his chair and looked over at Ana. She was doing her best not to pity him, and Nik didn’t blame her. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just let go of Oceane and all the drama that came with her. “Humility is something we all have to learn.”
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♕ INT. CALICO CAT CAFE - TOKYO, JAPAN - FEBRUARY 4TH, 2018
“UGH! Get off of me!”
The sound of Oceane’s horrendous voice wasn’t enough to send the orange tabby cat that was rubbing against her leg fleeing. Instead, the adorable feline wound itself around her legs and bumped his head playfully against her sparkly, silver Steve Madden boots. Oceane took a deep breathe to try and control her rage, but it was useless. Her black lambskin leather leggings from Saint Laurent had orange cat hair on them and that caused the former almost-princess to dig the toe of her boot into the cat’s soft belly and kick him across the cafe. The people around Oceane and her cousin/personal assistant Sofia gasped, and Oceane just rolled her eyes.
“These are expensive leggings,” she said, as if that justified her cruel actions. Sofia definitely regretted her suggestion of a Japanese cat cafe. “I don’t even know why I have to be here anyway,” Oceane continued as the two women finally found an empty table and sat down. “Part of the appeal of being a wrestler is being on TV. I guess since we can’t even beat the losers from the tag tournament, Union doesn’t consider us good enough to be part of their show. I don’t want to waste my time facing Netflix and Chill. Like if I wanted to Netflix and Chill, I would find some rich daddy and take him to my hotel.”
“They’re called Netflix and Kill, and I’m sure this is just a one off thing. Union is stacked with so much talent and not everyone can be on the show every single time. You and Sabina absolutely destroyed it at Lights Out 17 and like I have been telling you all week, you have NOTHING to be ashamed of. The titles will belong to you and Sabina soon enough, and you have to remember it was just your first match. No one stays undefeated their entire career.”
“Netflix and Pills might be an even dumber name than Suicide Squad.” Oceane was referring to The Firing Squad. “Do these slags we are facing even have names? Also, it infuriates me that Noah Reigner and the stupid fat one are the main event. They are getting the title match that should have gone to us because lets be honest, whats-their-faces are the worst champions ever. One is ugly and the other has terrible hair.”
“Eliza Lovecraft and Rachel Cole are their names, and they have two other members that could end up getting involved.” Sofia had done her homework this week because Oceane had spent the better part of it crying and trying to find a way to sue Union for putting her in a dark match. “Both of those ladies are older and more experienced than you. Cole is a risk-taker and Lovecraft has the ground and brawling game going. They definitely balance one another out as a team.”
Oceane made as ugly as a face as her Botox would allow her. “And Sabby and I are the most amazing athletes to ever grace the squared circle. Do you think two tiny women are going to phase us after we pushed around Noah and his stupid partner? You have told me all week just how great we did and how we dominated that match until the very end. The entire world has preached about rookie mistakes and how we will learn from them, and make sure we are never caught off guard again. So please tell me again why I need to care at all about Netflix and Thrill?”
“Netflix and Kill,” Sofia corrected, to which prompted Oceane to roll her eyes. “And maybe it’s because they outnumber you? Brianna Casablancas and Sylvia Hanson will either be at ringside or lurking. If you guys want to get that first win under your belts, you have to be focused.”
“Like no one is even going to see the match except for the people in the building. And they probably will not understand it anyway.”
Sofia wasn’t about to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole. Before she could reply, Oceane’s phone went off.
“It’s prob Sabz.”
The thought of her bestie caused Oceane’s face to light up. As she pulled her phone from her Dooney and Burke and checked the screen, all the color drained from her face. Sofia immediately felt the shift in energy. “What is it?”
Post by Sabina Sainte on Feb 5, 2018 21:01:12 GMT -5
February 3rd, 2018 - Yokohama Bread Festival Introducing Kevin Owens as Jedidiah Newman
Apparently food festivals were a thing in Japan and Jed Newman was set on seeing them all! So on this lovely Saturday, Sabina met up with her ex-lover and the President of Newman Enterprises (a tech giant). And he brought her to a bread festival. The wrestling superstar looked less than impressed with a scowl painted across her flawless face. She wore a skin-tight red bodycon dress that showed off the perfect amount of cleavage and a pair of simple black Louboutin heels. Her dark locks were pulled back into a perfect ponytail and her Alexa Mulberry bag was slung over her shoulder. Jed was dressed in a simple black Marc Jacobs suit with a black button-up, sans tie. And of course, he had three different pastries in his hands.
“I cannot believe you brought me to carb fest 2018.” Jed tried to lace his arm through hers, but Sabina yanked it away and crossed her arms across her chest. She came to visit Jed so that he would shower her with love and affection, not to watch him stuff his face.
“C’mon Sabsy, food festivals are the best. Eat this.” He said, handing her a pastry that was purple and looked sticky. Sabby took a step back.
“Do I look like I eat carbs?” Rolling her hazel eyes, the Greek goddess let out a soft sigh. This visit had not made her feel any better. A ding came from her bag and she reached in and grabbed her phone. It was an instagram notification for Luca Cilic. Just because she wasn’t speaking to him didn’t mean she wasn’t stalking his life. He had posted on Instagram and when she saw it, her grip on her iPhone tightened.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” She screamed at her phone before she chucked it at the nearest wall. A young girl ducked to avoid being struck and her phone shattered on impact. Jed just kind of stood there - he’d dated Sabby for years. This was nothing new.
“I am in Japan! This is where everyone dreams of wrestling and I’m in a fucking dark match. And stupid Luca is in dirtbag Mexico getting Hep C and winning fucking titles and living his best life!”
She was screaming at the top of her lungs in the middle of the festival. Sabina stomped her foot and clenched her fists at her side - she basically threw a tantrum. And then she grabbed the purple, sticky pastry out of Jed’s hand and shoved it into her mouth.
“You’re buying me a new phone,” she muttered through her comfort food. Jed simply smiled and nodded.
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February 5th, 2018 - Youtube.com/SabbySainte
“Can you hold it still?” Sabina demanded. The video footage of her jostled slightly. She was sitting at a table in the luxury penthouse suite she was staying at. You could only see her from the chest up. She is wearing a vintage PMS T-shirt that’s been tied up into a crop top and her dark hair with purple ends is stick straight.
“I’m trying!” Jed’s voice was off camera and it was pretty clear he was trying to hold Sabby’s iPhone still to record this footage. After being relegated to a dark match and learning that her boyfriend was having no problems living his stupid dream life in Mexico, Sabina’s attitude was less than stellar. She thought it was the perfect opportunity to address her fans and tell Netflix and Kill exactly what their fate was going to be. The Patron Saintes of Sass and Class are not about to let their second match end like the first one did.
“Hi Haters!” Her voice was super perky as she smirked into the camera and gave her fans a small wave. “My notifications have been blowing up since our debut match at Union. Everyone seems to think that OC and I failed - that we are some sort of flop, losers, whatever. Well, you can all go fuck yourselves. The Patron Sainte’s are the future of Union. So get used to us, bitches. You want to overlook us and put us in some dark match that like, no one is going to see? Fine, it’s cool.”
She crossed her arms across her chest, a scowl across her perfect pout. It wasn’t cool. It was quite clear OC and Sabby were beyond pissed. Their gorgeous faces deserved to be seen on national TV. Duh.
“We learned our lesson last week and now we are out for fucking blood. Netflix and Kill? Literally the worst name ever, bee tee dubbs. Let me save you from wasting some oxygen. Yes - OC and I lost our debut match. Yes - we are in some stupid dark match this week that no one cares about. Yes - You have the numbers. You have more experience than us. Blah blah fucking blah. Like I haven’t heard it all before.”
She couldn't help but roll her eyes and toss a section of hair behind her shoulder. This wouldn’t be the first or the last time she and her bestie were overlooked. Just another pair of rich wannabes is exactly what most people saw. That part honestly didn’t phase her.
“You’ve also accomplished nothing here in Union. So to me, it looks like we’re on even footing. OC and I are cradle to motherfucking grave. We would die for one another. I have a feeling the same can’t be said about your little team. Tag team wrestling is an art form in loyalty and no one has more loyalty than OC and I. So bring alllll your friends. We could care less. We stood toe to toe with Rumble and Noah last week and we held our own. The ending could have been better.”
Sabby made a face. Mentioning her loss made her physically ill, but she shook it off and continued.
“But that doesn’t matter.” She was telling them as much as herself. “It doesn’t take away from the fact that I was able to counter many of Noah’s attacks due to my stellar in-ring awareness and skill. It doesn’t take away from the fact that OC was able to take fatty down with a huge superkick and he weights like as much as a car. When her boot connects with your faces? You’re basically going to die. We cut our teeth on a team that is bigger and stronger than you, a team that has more experience than you. And we survived. What makes you think you’ll be able to beat us? You’re smaller than us, you’re weaker than us and you’re not as good as us. Sorry not sorry.”
The savage Sainte shrugged. Pausing for a moment, the Grecian took a breath to calm herself. Then she pointed at her shirt.
“This is our motivation. This is what we are going to be - one of the most dominant female teams in all of wrestling history.” PMS was the team that their trainer, Keilli Chaos, was known for. They were an all-female stable that dominated years ago and everything that the Patron Sainte’s aspired to be.
“We were trained by the best. Keilli Chaos is a goddess - the original Phenom. I am a technical genius with submission skills to boot. Oceane is an aerial queen and also a submission expert. We are going to put your tiny little bodies into every submission hold we know, until something snaps. Until you can’t move. We’re stronger than you so you won’t be able to fight out. I mean, you’re like thirty.” Just saying that age aloud almost made her gag. “We’ll prob break your brittle, old lady bones. So bring your best bitches. I will not be stuck on some pre-show bullshit that no one is even going to see. Sabina Sainte and Oceane Jordain ARE Union Battleground. You’re our do-over. Our first stepping stone back into the fucking spotlight and I will kill you to make sure that that happens. Kapeesh?”
There was conviction in her voice. The last two weeks had been a roller coaster. They had suffered their first loss, Sabina had been abandoned by her one true love and then they had been shoved into the pre-show. She had been fighting with herself all week. But sitting here, yelling into her iPhone, she finally believed it.
“I won’t let another chance pass me by. Netflix and Kill will be no more.”
A with that a smile was plastered across her face. "Don't forget to like, subscribe and follow me on social media! Bye bitches!"
“Wow babe, that was great.” Jed’s voice made her smile fall and she glared at him.
“Ohmygod are you still filming? I’m like done!”
Sabby put her face in her hand and let out an exasperated sigh. The footage was shaky as Jed tried to figure out how to stop recording. The last thing we saw was Sabby’s Louboutins and a plush white carpet as the scene cut.
