- Messages
- 107
- Points
- 43
. . . Gucci shoes, and a belt like it
______
Relaxed. Unscathed. Unbothered.
Felix Hartley never exactly knew what it meant to feel pressure. It likely stemmed from her inability to feel compassion or urgency towards any upcoming event in her life. The woman was terrified of the idea of marriage, but the idea of entering a nineteen-woman free-for-all where literally anything could happen seemed effortless and exciting in the best of ways. Perhaps her priorities were mixed and maybe so, but this simple misconstruction has allowed her to keep a cool edge that lets her see the clear task in front of her and exactly what needs to be done to complete that task at the end of the night. Nerves couldn’t possibly play a factor when you have a failsafe plan, and why would they? Felix Hartley has been undoubtedly the most underestimated participant in this entire match. This would hurt most women’s egos, but it couldn’t please Felix more to have such an advantage going into Grand Rampage. It’s understood that your accomplishments elsewhere don’t carry much weight, and Felix is content with that; but the woman has only been in Elite Answers for a hot minute, so what’s to brag about? You know, besides her undefeated streak; besides the fact that nobody on the opposing side of this savage redhead could actually pin her for the win.
Women are always going to devalue other women, though, no matter how far we come as a society. Nobody wants one to succeed more than the other – and god forbid anybody succeed more than us. Wrestling is a selfish business, a very, very selfish business – which means it’s absolutely perfect for Felix. When one woman does better than another woman, we instinctively tear them down. When one woman struggles and cries for help, we help, but we don’t teach them everything we know – just in case they might actually carry the ability to do better than us. It’s a vicious cycle, being a woman . . . But once you have the psychology figured out, once you can understand how we work, it becomes nothing more but a game. We’re all competing for the exact same thing in EAW, but only one of us can get it. In a world full of women who are carbon copies of either one another or somebody else, how do you differentiate? You see, Felix has never been pinned; never been beaten; never lost. But her oppressors, because of the ‘quality’ of her past opponents, will forever devalue that accomplishment. What does that say about how the rest of the talent thinks of the EAW roster? Everybody here thinks they deserve this. Everybody here thinks they have what it takes to win. Why the fuck else would we be here if we didn’t think we could win it all above anybody and anything else? It’s retarded logic to mention at all how a bunch of wrestlers all think they’re going to win a match. Crazy how they believe they can actually do what they’ve been contracted to prove.
Yet, Felix knew that she would never be recognized for her accomplishments outside of EAW not only because they didn’t matter, but also because it meant that these bitches had to give her credit. There are some women in this match who’ve never held a World Championship. There are some women in this match who never will. But those same women absolutely depend on calling Felix the ‘rookie’ and what a mistake that is. She’s been around since before she was even legal to work in the United States, but that didn’t stop her. She barely turned eighteen before she was prancing around in next to nothing stealing all of the GWC camera time. There are tactics that are proven to work, and she’s never been let down yet – including since her inception into the world of EAW. Everybody’s been so quick to discredit her and yet at the very same time, nobody can stop talking about her. Hell, Celes Dumont has pledged that she won’t even try to win the match, just as long as somebody – literally anybody – eliminates Felix. You have to wonder how just one person could have such an effect; but then you realize it’s Felix and that’s her nature and it all begins to make sense. Why she’s here and why she does what she does, says what she does . . . It gets under people’s skin; she gets under people’s skin.
It’s been her goal – she hasn’t shied away from bragging about it, either. While she’s grown to appreciate the sport a little more than she has in the last five years of her career, the fact will forever remain that Felix has not worked her entire life for this. She will not put blood, sweat and tears into this. She will not die for this. What she will do, though, is continue to tell you that despite all of that, she’s still very much a better competitor than you and she definitely will tell you that she deserves it more. On the basis of what? Accomplishments; experience; the same things as you. She has done the same things and has followed in the same footsteps, believe it or not. Wrestling, training, keeping her body in excellent condition to keep up with having a physically demanding career, and taking the cake time and again when it comes to having charisma and a personality on the microphone. There’s no doubt that Felix has marketed herself as the textbook antithesis of what you don’t want in a professional wrestler, and somehow she still has a following all around the world. She has consistently been the villain. Those that simply could not beat her, eventually joined forces with her. Those who weren’t good enough to join forces with her simply fell into oblivion and never bothered to mention her name again. They knew that, similar to the Candy man, if you say her name three times, she will come back.
Just remember one thing before you try to clock her; the first thing that anybody heard about Felix Hartley in EAW was Gavin saying nothing but . . .
“She’s here.”
APRIL 16, 2019 | UFC GYM – SAN CLEMENTE, CALI 10:45 PM
Felix sat in the corner of the ring, eagerly wiping away beads of sweat forming at the base of her bright red hair. The thing Felix hated the most in life was sweating. Lexi Sheckler stood across from her at the other end of the ring, arms draped over each side, one ankle crossed over the other.
“How are you feeling?”
“Disgusting. You know I hate sweating,” Felix scowled as she wiped her forehead on a nearby towel.
“I meant how are you feeling about Grand Rampage, stupid,” Lexi’s monotone and raspy voice echoed through the nearly empty gym.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” Lexi suspiciously raised an eyebrow, “Just . . . fine?”
“What?” Felix shrugged with a tiny smirk forming on her face. “You don’t think this is a big deal, do you?”
“It’s . . . I mean it’s a bunch of other women in a ring who, by the sounds of it, all have their eye on you. It wouldn’t bother me, but Jesus Christ do you ever have a fucking target on your back.” She laughed.
“What else is new?” Felix rolled her eyes nonchalantly. “Nineteen bitches and not one of them willing to admit they’re scared as shit to be in a ring with me.”
“They should be.”
Felix cocked her head back in confusion. She looked up at Lexi, whose expression never exactly changes.
“Meaning what?”
“Pretty self explanatory, what I said.”
“Then why did you say it?”
“Don’t dig for compliments; they don’t come often as it is. All I’m saying is that you’ve wildly improved from when you were a raging nineteen-year-old cunt who cared about Instagram followers and used a bitch slap as a primary staple in your arsenal.”
“Did I lose followers?!” Felix asked in a panic, reaching over to pull her phone out of her gym bag.
Lexi shut her eyes; a quick way of contemplating if she should just move on or murder her.
“Perhaps I spoke too soon.”
“Relax, I know what you’re saying,” Felix retorted with her head in her phone. “I don’t know if I’ve gotten better or bitter. I know I’m good, there’s no doubt about that, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I have more experience now.”
“Apparently you have neither experience or accomplishments. Just the ability to complain about your weave.”
“BuT wE AReN’T ALLoWeD tO MeNtiON tHaT!”
Lexi cracked a grin as Felix looked up from her phone, she grinned back.
“Honestly, dude? I think it has everything to do with Josh.”
Felix cringed. She’ll never get used to the idea that she legally promised to spend the rest of her life with one person. She wasn’t sure if she was cringing because of the bullshit ideology that monogamy is humane and doesn’t go against every one of our natural desires as human beings, or because she knew it was only a matter of time before she broke that commitment.
“Why?” Felix asked through gritted teeth.
“Come on man, it’s clear you don’t actually want to be married to the poor guy. You spend all of your time either with me, training, or you’re flying out early to ‘acclim—“
“Acclimatize to the temperature, yes, that is what I do. Jet lag is also a thing.”
“You flew to South Carolina last week, there is literally no time difference, or temperature difference. The only difference is that you do not have a husband there.”
Felix sat in silence, scrolling through her phone. It never ceased to amaze those closest to her that this seemed to be the one fear she had in all of her life. Felix had gone through inexplicable trauma. She has faced many demons that women around the world are constantly at battle with. She chose instinctively to use the patriarchy against them and profited off of her sexual exploits. She has had the incredible ability all of her life to turn her greatest weaknesses into strengths (and money), and yet this is the one feat that she wasn’t sure she would be able to convince herself she would creatively survive.
“Nothing?” Lexi asked sharply, breaking the long silence between them.
“She used my real name.”
“Huh?” Lexi shook her head in confusion.
Felix flashed Lexi her phone screen that had changed from her Instagram to the EAW homepage, which featured the new Serena Bennett promo.
Do you think I give a fuck about your opinion of me, Felicia?
Lexi didn’t say anything, simply watched Felix’s face. Her cheeks tensed, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clicked. Not that Lexi cared about what words came out of her mouth, but for many reasons, she was treading deep water in this instance. When you say ‘Felicia’, something clicks for more reasons than one. You can talk about how Felix is a ‘PornHub slut’ as redundant as it is considering she enjoyed making money from it, you can talk about the fact that she was adopted and never knew her real parents, you can even talk about the fact that Kendrick Lamar DID ghost her, but this . . .
“I thought you were past all of that shit,” Lexi asked as sensitively as she could. It wasn’t necessarily her strong suit. “Thought that ‘died’ a long time ago.”
Felix shrugged.
“You still have nightmares?”
FLASHBACK | SPARKS, NEVADA – CHRISTMAS EVE 2011
Most sixteen year olds would be spending time with friends and family, decorating the Christmas tree, wrapping the last-minute gifts, anxiously waiting until the morning to arrive while drinking hot chocolate by the fire. Nevada was warm all of the time, but that didn’t mean the residents couldn’t enjoy the winter spirit. While Madéa and Bruce spent time on the tree, Felicia Jackson was working as the primary breadwinner to provide food for the family, ensuring that this year they could actually afford a Christmas meal together.
Felicia Jackson, whose stage name was “Nina”, was one of the paid entertainers on The Mustang Lounge’s payroll; Madéa Jackson was a seasoned performer at the Wild Horse Cabaret, but occasionally performed sexual favours for the owner of The Mustang Lounge in exchange for Felix’s off-the-record employment. To a trained eye, Felicia Jackson was noticeably under-aged, which is why she was kept off the pole for now and paid mostly for private dances. Some of the ‘regulars’ knew Felicia’s real age, which she would use to her advantage to drum up business or keep her regulars coming. Recently turning sixteen, Felicia and her family knew of the legal consequences if their deal was ever discovered by the Nevada State Police Department (who frequented the establishment for many other reasons than busting a hooker or two)
“Babe, we’ve got a regular in the Red Room. Make it a good one, huh? It’s Christmas,” Johnny, the club’s owner, winks as he smacks her on the ass. “Give him a little something special tonight, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I don’t usually--“ Felix stumbled, “That’s, uh. Well, Katrina usually covers the Red Room. It’s her regular.”
“She’s sick. Some bullshit about food poisoning,” Johnny shrugs. “Gonna need you in there unless you want to go job huntin’ on Christmas Eve?”
Felix looked down towards her shoes.
“Atta girl.”
She smiled. She sat with one other woman in the dressing room, but the age gap between them was so far that she felt she wouldn’t have anything relative to say to her. She wished she could open up and ask for guidance, or perhaps the question that had been burning in the back of her mind since she started working at The Mustang Lounge – How do you do this? She finished slipping on the strap to her purple-haltered lingerie and slid her feet into 6” pleaser platform shoes. A sympathetic glance was hared between her and the other performer, whom she only knew as “Stacy-Lynne.” She took off towards the Red Room – a room considered to be the ultimate erotic experience, should you have the dollar for it.
“There’s my girl . . . “
She felt the locks of her hair gently being tugged as she sat upright in a black leather chair. Bound at the wrists behind the chair and at the ankles to each post, the man slipped a blindfold over her eyes. It was dark already, but she recognized his voice; she called him Sunny. He was a regular of the Red Room and often requested certain girls depending on the fantasy he wanted to live that night. Tonight he requested Katrina, and Felicia didn’t bother telling him otherwise.
“Are you scared?”
“Yes,” Felicia replied timidly.
“Yes what?” He gave a sharp tug to the rope binding her wrists, jerking her arms back.
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl. Are you going to be a good girl, or a bad girl for Daddy?”
“A good girl, sir.”
“Oh, I don’t see the fun in that . . . “ He walked around her, trailing his fingertip along the chair and eventually ran his fingertip around her shoulder blades to her chest. “I want to try a little something different tonight.”
She could feel his breath near her neck and his hands slide up her thighs. Automatically she began to clench and tighten, the worry blossoming in her stomach that her boundaries would indeed be crossed. She’s been taught to never say no to a customer if she could help it. She felt tonight she would have to say her ‘safe word’; not in terms of BDSM, but in terms of her personal safety. She sat there and wondered if this man was going to go through with what he was thinking about if he had turned on the lights and saw a helpless sixteen year old trembling in her seat. She could fake confidence no problem, but she now realized why Stacey-Lynne had given her such a sorry stare earlier in the dressing room.
“Relax, baby girl. Or . . . are you going to make me work for it?”
She didn’t know exactly how to respond. More than anything, she just wanted it to stop. He began panting as he slid his hands up the lacy ensemble, hooking his thumbs under the thin fabric of the underwear and pulling them down to her knees.
“Please stop.”
He chuckled. It was common for girls to repeat the word ‘stop’ without actually meaning it; it was more of a way to intrigue the man and make him believe that she truly and deeply wanted the activity to stop but not really. In this case, Felicia was begging in just above a whisper.
“Please. Just stop. I mean it.”
“You know and I know . . . you need this. Don’t you?”
Felicia’s hands shook, her palms began to sweat and somehow the rope seemed tighter now. She could feel the material digging in and she was convince that in seconds it would just cut through her bones and her hands would simply dangle on a thread.
“Tell me you need it.” His voice was cold and demanding.
“No.”
“I thought tonight you were going to be a good girl?”
“Untie me I’m fucking serious,” She squirmed uncomfortably which only seemed to deepen the smile on his face.
“Tell me you need this you stupid whore!”
“This is over, I’m not Katr—“
“Tell me!” He commanded, slapping her hard across the face. “Tell me you need me, Felicia.”
She spat directly into his face.
“You stupid slut,” He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed with one hand, and with the other he viciously untied the rope around her ankles and her wrists. Wrestling her to the floor, he pinned her arms above her head and with his legs, separated hers and nestled in between them.
“You’re begging me to stop, but that’s not really what you want, is it?”
She screamed in pain as she felt what was happening to her. Again. Over and over. Tears streamed down her face as she bit down on her lip, the pain was almost unbearable now. She was certain she was bleeding. The door to the Red Room bursts open where Stacey-Lynne charged in, turning on all of the lights. Sunny had immediately stopped, releasing Felicia from his grasp as she rolled over onto her side tucking her knees up under her chest.
“She fucking asked for it!” He said, pants down to his ankles and hands in the air as if he he knew he had just been caught.
“She’s sixteen you fucking asshole!” Stacey-Lynne ran over to Felicia, hovering over her.
“I know,” Was all he said, buckling up his belt and smiling.
END FLASHBACK.
“Yes, I still have nightmares.”
“Dante did that too, didn’t he?”
“How do you mean?”
“You told me when you called him by his African name he snapped. Attacked you, and was never seen again.”
“Shit just clicks when you’re trying to kill somebody you used to be. That’s the thing these fucking dolts don’t get. Everything I’ve built in my life, the persona, who Felix is, it’s an extension and a complete mirror of the shit I don’t want to be. I’ve had enough shit happen to me in my lifetime, now I’m just setting up the life I actually want to live. Free of all that past bullshit coming back to haunt me. These broads sure as shit are easier to compete against than demons you can’t see.”
“So pull on that trauma,” Lexi was quick to add. “EAW is full of fake try-hard cunts. You have real shit to pull on. You went through real fucking shit, Felix. I swear to god man if you unlocked that inside of you and let some aspects of ‘Felicia’ make it into ‘Felix’, you’d be unstoppable. Think of the shit you’re doing now, all you’ve done now to earn your spot. That’s nothing compared to what would happen to these stupid scags if you actually tapped into that mentally. Pull from it. Take that anger and bust a twat’s head open with it. Don’t be afraid to get violent; that’s the game these cunts are only acting like they’re playing. Remember that, and you have the upper hand. Always. You’re so fucking intelligent and you don’t even know it, you’re operating at about 70% of your actual potential. And it’s easy now, right? Think of how easy it’ll be when you remember that fat fuck holding you down. Think of how easy it’ll be when you remember when Dante took something from you and fucked off. You can’t keep holding that shit in and making up different personas in your head to hide from what you went through. It’s human, but you’re never going to heal from it properly. Do you understand?”
Felix nodded. Lexi began to laugh.
“Felix ‘Takin’ Dicks and Beatin’ Chicks’ Hartley.”
______
“Welcome to the show, Andrea. While you’ve been asleep with your monitors turned off, we’ve been out here grinding. Just one other broad full of hopes and dreams, all ‘who knows what will happen when all these girls get in there!’ I know. I know what’ll happen. You’re going to get your shit fucked up because your rainbows and unicorns have no place in a match with this kind of intensity. People like you go out fast. I was warned about you, too. I could have sworn somebody told me one day to watch out for Andrea Valentine, because she can be competition for you. How about that? Looks like you’ve just confirmed what I already knew; that was a fucking lie. Thank you for taking the time though to come on in and break down what exactly is at stake in this match and what happens if you aren’t on your toes, ready for whatever, whenever – we’re wrestlers, we been knew. You don’t think we’re all thinking about who we want to fight? Strategizing day and night about this shit because it’s the only way to make it through? No one’s watching your back, and no one’s watching mine. That’s the beauty of it, and if that scares you, you’re not ready for it. Maybe sit this one out and watch while I get all the attention you think I’m lusting after – the tea is that I’ve already got it. I see it, I want it, I like it, I got it.”
“Oops! It looks as though Cleo has taken the parts out of her sentences where smart stuff should go and has replaced them with things that are stupid and repetitive. CaN SoMeBoDy ReMiND Me wHo FeLiX HaRtLeY iS? Bitch, please, we all know that the second you pull the ‘I don’t even know her’ card, it means you’re fresh out of shit to say about me because you know I’ll come for you right back. PornHub slut? SOSA already made that joke, try again. Also it’s kind of hard to insult me about something I profited off of for fun, it would almost be like me making fun of you for being a wrestler. Although the jury’s still out on that one if I’m honest with you. Oh, you have the talent to wipe out everyone on this roster? I’ve heard that before, from literally every broad in this match. Everyone here thinks they have what it takes, they deserve it more, this, that and the other thing, insert slogan we all pull out of our ass about our match and our opponents here. It’s getting real fucking tired, so excuse me if I’m not at all threatened by your self-proclaimed status. Biggest match of my career? My god, you’re dense. Sorry to tell you, but I’ve travelled the world, won World Titles, this will be my third tour of Australia – bitch you should be thanking me for the opportunity to shine light on YOUR name for even sharing a card with me. The fact that you referred to yourself – in third person, may I add, because how could you be any cringier – as the last of a dying breed? Is it because you look at least 30 years older than any of us? The only breed you are is a mutt and you’ll never be better than me. By the way, I’m not from Atlanta. Sit down and do your research before you open your old mouth. Yet you’re calling me a pea brain – bitch I’ll fuckin’ feed you those peas, mushed and with a spoon, while I volunteer at the old age home with my free time between winning Championships.”
“Oh, welcome Tyler! I’d introduce myself to you but let’s be real, you know who I am. I mean now, anyways, right?” She winks. “In case you need a little reminder though, ‘Ass, Class & Sass’ Felix Hartley – the original one. Have you finished all of your ‘warranted’ anger management? Are you all done perpetuating the idea that you’re an original and edgy bitch? Maybe paint a little under your eye and use devil horns? Adorable. So edgy, so metal, so unique; truly one of a kind. Let me know if I can be in the top 5 on your MySpace page xD. Here’s the thing babe, if you’re ‘not going to lie’ and say that I did well and give me credit where credit deserves to be given, why go off about how I’ve never beaten anyone ‘of merit’? Considering I’ve been here a literal two months, it’s kind of not in my hands, don’t you think? Sitting there whining about how we’re bitching about weaves instead of our ‘accomplishments and experience’, if I don’t have experience and yet it was easy to beat all these low-card bitches with one hand tied behind my back, you really don’t think I could hang with you? I mean are we listing our accomplishments in a tacky way or not, because you did, right? You don’t ‘have’ to, but you did, right? Because you’re a scared little cunt who I know never wanted me in EAW. Bet it twisted you up inside to know that an actual threat was here now, huh? Breaking into your little home here on the roster and making myself comfortable, put my feet up in my Louboutin’s, it made your stomach sick. It made you realize that maybe now you actually have to work and you couldn’t have an easy ride. Coming after some of the other broads in this match because they’re whining about opportunities they did or didn’t get, meanwhile you lose one match and complain that Kendra is setting you up to fail – but you couldn’t possibly fail, right? Not you! All you have to say is ‘I’m better than you’ as if nobody ever says that. Oop, that’ll do it. That’s the one that’ll make me go running. Yeah, I couldn’t give a fuck whether you think you can ‘actually go’, I’ve beaten better than you. See how little effect that has? It couldn’t be the fact that you’re not as good as you think you are right? It has to be some conspiracy theory that management is plotting against you. I guess all that time in ‘jail’ and getting arrested made you think you were too hard to fuck with eh? Too bad Lexi already played the whole anger management, in and out of jail shtick before your career even started, so do yourself a favour and copy some else for a change. Thanks.”
“Sweet little Miho. What an incredible spirit you have, to have lost so embarrassingly to me, and yet come back for more. You’re right about one thing – anything can happen in EAW. But one thing that is never going to happen for you, personally, is winning Grand Rampage. It’s nothing personal it’s just that I’ve been tirelessly working on building such a lasting legacy here that it really doesn’t make sense to stop now. See the pattern my career normally goes in, is that I walk in, get handed opportunities, and title shots. The way things are looking for me right now, it’s not going to be any different in EAW because once Grand Rampage is far behind me, I’ll be looking towards Pain for Pride, right across the ring at little Sienna Jade. And personally, I cannot wait to see the shit that comes out of these broads mouths then, the first time they open again once I’ve shut ‘em all. The thing is, all these broads that fall to my feet all want a second chance at me. You, Celes. . . it’s because you underestimate me. You assume like you said, that I’m that ‘pretty, kickable face’ and then what happens? You embarrass yourself, and you lose. Same thing is going to happen with nineteen other women, and the burden of eliminating all of them I’d happily take on my shoulders.”
“Speaking of broad shoulders though, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Serena. Although all that barking you’re doing just sounds like noise after you’ve heard it a few times. Admit it, Serena, you’re so fucking rattled by the fact that we’re so alike. Even our resident little edge lord made that comparison between you and I. You’re so mad that I’m coming into EAW, doing what you supposedly did, but just a little bit better. You think I don’t love starting shit? Getting in people’s faces, ruffling feathers? Let’s fucking go. Take comfort in the fact that I’m probably the only bitch not scared of you and whatever laughable influence you think you have right now. Babe, nineteen of us are going to be in the ring with you, what the fuck kind of influence do you think you’re going to have when I’m tearing out your tracks and choking the life out of you with ‘em? THiS iS My StRuGgLe, I’ll show you what a struggle is if you open your mouth one more time. That’s the difference between all these little cunts and me, I’m not afraid to come for you. The fuck do I have to lose? Sit here and keep your name out of my mouth? For what though? You think I care what colour you are now? My god, reach a little more please. Realistically, you have your setbacks, I have mine – neither of them are going to play a part AT ALL in what happens at Grand Rampage, let’s be real about that right quick.”
“So let me reiterate something for you dumb twats – this target I’ve apparently painted on my back? Might as well tattoo it. It’s not going anywhere, and neither am I. Except maybe to the bank. But I’ll be right the fuck back.”
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