Post by Jill Park on Sept 1, 2022 23:25:35 GMT -5
The music was blasting, the liquor was flowing, everything was perfect. Following her win at Uprising in the All-In, ladder match, Jill Park was on top of the world. A woman who, even late last year had been continuously mocked and ridiculed as a perennial ‘loser when it counts’ was now the Action Wrestling United States Champion, Women’s Champion, and All-In briefcase holder. She was on the cusp of becoming the first triple Champion in the history of Action Wrestling. She held the All-In briefcase, the undisputed key to a World Championship, if used properly.
Right now though, she wasn’t thinking about any of that. She wasn’t thinking about the fact she would have to defend two Championships, perhaps on the same night? She wasn’t thinking about the how or when she would bring Gerard Angelo’s World Championship reign to a screeching halt with a surprise cash in. She wasn’t even thinking about what that moment could signify. A true ‘once in a lifetime moment’, no doubt. Not even her upcoming tag match against Angelo and Alice Gemini came to mind at the present moment.
That was because, for the first time in a long time, Jill Park was celebrating. After all, she had quite a bit to celebrate. Her Glory tournament win, her successful title defense at Meltdown, winning the Women’s title, and now All-In. No celebrations for any of those came to be. Jill had been in a constant state of anxiety and always looking to the next hurdle. Always thinking of the added pressure that came with each and every victory; with each and every accolade she had collected.
On the advice of Jake Paul, she was throwing a huge party in Venice Beach. There were A-List celebrities attending, athletes, you name it. Between Jill and Jake’s contacts, the guest list was quite impressive. However, it had been so long since Jill Park celebrated anything, she was a bit…unpredictable(as if she was ever predictable, in any scenario, ever).
“Woah, Jill! You alright?” Jake questioned, his tone right on the line of accusatory and concerned, as Jill, in a low-cut sequined dress and heels, stumbled across her deck, nearly colliding with several partygoers. She then stumbled through the opened patio doors and came to a stop when she plopped(whether it was intentional or out of pure luck) onto the leather sectional that took up the middle of the room. She laughed hysterically at her supposed faux pas as she looked up at Jake. He was also pretty drunk so his stare and concern did not last long, and when she did not offer up any sort of reply and just lazily gazed into his eyes, he shrugged and walked away. Jill shrugged, and noticed she still had a firm grasp on the bottle of champagne with her right hand, which she brought up to her mouth and guzzled the remaining contents.
She then smashed it off of the floor, again laughing hysterically. Nobody shared in the laughter or even seemed to notice, which brought a smile to her face.
She was a sloppy drunk.
“Alice, Alice, Alice…
You never quite learn, do you? You boasted about being the “Brutal Bitch” and I proved you wrong. We engaged in the most watched Clash Main Event in the history of this company. An impressive accomplishment for us both, but it sure does sound like a consolation prize for you, doesn’t it? I’ll give you your due though, Alice. You beat the hell out of me on Clash a couple of weeks ago. Gave me your best, but here’s where it gets tricky:
You’re best wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t good enough when I latched onto your ankle, and like so many before you, you tapped out. I took your title, but I took so much more than that, didn’t I? I took out that indomitable spirit you displayed. I took out this whole narrative that you’re the baddest bitch around here, because let’s face it: we both know who that really is. I took your dignity and most importantly of all: I took your momentum.
Anything that remained in that scarred mind of yours was absolutely oblitered by Regan, with the help of a steel chair.
Are you okay, Alice? I mean you had the most high-profile loss of your career, followed up by nearly having your brains splattered all across the canvas at Uprising. I’m sure your ears are still ringing. You probably have a concussion. In fact, I’m sure of it. Why don’t you do yourself a favour and sit this one out. Let Gerry show us all about how he’s the “Living Legend”.
If you don’t heed my advice, then I do pity you Alice. It would be a clear indication of your lack of intelligence. I mean, I know that wasn’t exactly your strong suit to begin with, but I’m sure you want to live to fight another day.
Unless of course, you really do want revenge on Regan for the aforementioned brain-smashing.
Either way, it’s your funeral, Alice. If you want to scrape together the little bit of brain cells you have left, we will be happy to smash those out of your head as well.
This isn’t a game. It’s not a training exercise. You’re stepping into the ring with the two most dangerous minds in this company. If you want to be merely another sacrifice on the alter of Affluenza, then I guess, that’s your choice.
But again, I emphasize,
It’s a stupid one.”
Jill Park woke some time later, with a pulsating headache. As she groaned and sat up, she realized she never did leave the sectional after her dramatic tumbling across the living room. There was still broken glass all around from the champagne bottle she haphazardly rocketed towards the floor. There were a lot more bodies past out than before, though. She shrugged, as that was fully expected. As she turned her attention to the still-opened patio doors she realized it was still the middle of the night. There was an odd moment of calmness, before she heard several thuds that came from just upstairs.
As Jill stumbled into a wall, she decided she was determined to find the source of the commotion. She also noted she hadn’t found Jake yet, and he clearly hadn’t tried to awaken her from her drunken nap. After fixing her dress, she grabbed a firm grasp of the railing that led to the second floor. Step by step she focused on what the next step was, focused on not being the stereotypical drunk girl falling down the stairs at her own party, even if it seemed moreorless over.
As she finally reached the last step, she seen the door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. Again, she set out on the journey down the hall, bouncing back and forth between both sides of the hall, before pushing open the door fully.
What she saw when she did that, was Jake Paul and two women getting dressed.
At first, her rage burned and it was all caught in her eyes as she glared at Jake, who had this dumbass look on his face(like he usually does). He didn’t have an explanation or excuse to give, and really, he knew trying to use one wouldn’t get himself any further. He told the girls to get out, knowing the things Jill was capable of.
Then something weird happened. Jill stepped up to him, and said “Nah, they can stay. I don’t care.”
Jill then turned on a dime, and nearly fell over before catching herself in the doorway. She then continued out of the room. Absolutely flabbergasted, Jake walked out to question her.
“You don’t care?” He said, as he caught up to her.
“Nope.” She replied, sharply. “Who are we fucking kidding, Jake? This relationship is a sham. We are using each other. It’s fun and all, but why should I give a shit, at all?”
There was a silence as Jill slowly descended down the staircase, with Jake a step behind.
“So like, what is this for you?”
“Performative.” She said quickly, as she kicked her way through the shards of glass that were all over the floor.
“And while I find it cute than you think you need to try and rationalize this relationship after I walked in on the cleaning up phase of a threesome you just had in my bedroom, it’s really unnecessary.”
“Jill, I’m sorry. We all had way too much to drink. But your reaction to it, is really weird.”
Jill grabbed another bottle of champagne off of a nearby shelf; it was barely opened.
“Is it?” She questioned back as she took another drink.
“So like, I get that I messed up. But, you’re telling me you have no feelings at all?”
Jill took one last drink, as she sat back down in the same place she had awoken minutes earlier.
“Nope.
Like I said, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Gerry…do you like being called Gerry?
Do I even care? No, why would I? Anyways…
Gerry, I hope you comprehend the gravity of the situation you currently find yourself in. You’ve had a magnificent first year here in Action Wrestling. You’ve managed to climb your way onto the top of the mountain. You reached the summit in barely no time at all. You’ve only lost a couple of times and you’ve flat out embarrassed a number of otherwise top talents in the process. In any other year in this company, you’d be heralded as having, without a doubt, the best year, by far, of anyone on the roster.
Except, you chose this year. You chose my year. I’ve won the United States Championship after obiliterating the field at Glory. I won the Women’s title in what is considered the biggest, and most watched Clash Main Event in HISTORY. I followed that up by winning All-In on the very next fucking SHOW.
And while you own the one thing I need to lay claim to the best year of my life, personal or professional, we both know it’s only a matter of time before that transaction is finalized. Whether you choose to admit it or not, the process has already begun.
I was barely holding the All-In briefcase for a few minutes, and you were laid at my feet; at my mercy. If it weren’t for Dandy DiVito acting like a petulant child after being told ‘no’, then perhaps you wouldn’t even be Champion at all.
That is the burning question in everyone’s mind right now, isn’t it? Would I have cashed in my All-In briefcase immediately? Would I have shocked the world a second time and put down Gerard Angelo, at Uprising? Well, let me spare everyone the angst of thinking about it. Let me spare everyone the useless interview by Jade Riley, so she can interview equally as useless talent about shit nobody cares about, to fill time.
Would I have cashed in at Uprising?
You’re damn right I would have.
You call yourself “The Living Legend” don’t you, Gerry? Well, it’s kind of funny. After defeating Lissie Hope…after showing the world that you were the real deal, that you were here to stay…you let a clown ambush you, beat the hell out of you, and drag you down to the ring.
How embarrassing.
So, I’ll put your mind at ease, Gerry. I ain’t coming for that World title on Clash. Not yet. On Clash, Affluenza will once again prove that we are true pillars of this company. That we still have our thumb on the pulse of Action Wrestling. I’ll beat you on Clash, Gerry…just to prove a point. Just to show you that I can.
So I can show you the future. So you know, emphatically, that we aren’t living in the era of Angelo.
We’re living in the era of Jill goddamn PARK.”
Right now though, she wasn’t thinking about any of that. She wasn’t thinking about the fact she would have to defend two Championships, perhaps on the same night? She wasn’t thinking about the how or when she would bring Gerard Angelo’s World Championship reign to a screeching halt with a surprise cash in. She wasn’t even thinking about what that moment could signify. A true ‘once in a lifetime moment’, no doubt. Not even her upcoming tag match against Angelo and Alice Gemini came to mind at the present moment.
That was because, for the first time in a long time, Jill Park was celebrating. After all, she had quite a bit to celebrate. Her Glory tournament win, her successful title defense at Meltdown, winning the Women’s title, and now All-In. No celebrations for any of those came to be. Jill had been in a constant state of anxiety and always looking to the next hurdle. Always thinking of the added pressure that came with each and every victory; with each and every accolade she had collected.
On the advice of Jake Paul, she was throwing a huge party in Venice Beach. There were A-List celebrities attending, athletes, you name it. Between Jill and Jake’s contacts, the guest list was quite impressive. However, it had been so long since Jill Park celebrated anything, she was a bit…unpredictable(as if she was ever predictable, in any scenario, ever).
“Woah, Jill! You alright?” Jake questioned, his tone right on the line of accusatory and concerned, as Jill, in a low-cut sequined dress and heels, stumbled across her deck, nearly colliding with several partygoers. She then stumbled through the opened patio doors and came to a stop when she plopped(whether it was intentional or out of pure luck) onto the leather sectional that took up the middle of the room. She laughed hysterically at her supposed faux pas as she looked up at Jake. He was also pretty drunk so his stare and concern did not last long, and when she did not offer up any sort of reply and just lazily gazed into his eyes, he shrugged and walked away. Jill shrugged, and noticed she still had a firm grasp on the bottle of champagne with her right hand, which she brought up to her mouth and guzzled the remaining contents.
She then smashed it off of the floor, again laughing hysterically. Nobody shared in the laughter or even seemed to notice, which brought a smile to her face.
She was a sloppy drunk.
“Alice, Alice, Alice…
You never quite learn, do you? You boasted about being the “Brutal Bitch” and I proved you wrong. We engaged in the most watched Clash Main Event in the history of this company. An impressive accomplishment for us both, but it sure does sound like a consolation prize for you, doesn’t it? I’ll give you your due though, Alice. You beat the hell out of me on Clash a couple of weeks ago. Gave me your best, but here’s where it gets tricky:
You’re best wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t good enough when I latched onto your ankle, and like so many before you, you tapped out. I took your title, but I took so much more than that, didn’t I? I took out that indomitable spirit you displayed. I took out this whole narrative that you’re the baddest bitch around here, because let’s face it: we both know who that really is. I took your dignity and most importantly of all: I took your momentum.
Anything that remained in that scarred mind of yours was absolutely oblitered by Regan, with the help of a steel chair.
Are you okay, Alice? I mean you had the most high-profile loss of your career, followed up by nearly having your brains splattered all across the canvas at Uprising. I’m sure your ears are still ringing. You probably have a concussion. In fact, I’m sure of it. Why don’t you do yourself a favour and sit this one out. Let Gerry show us all about how he’s the “Living Legend”.
If you don’t heed my advice, then I do pity you Alice. It would be a clear indication of your lack of intelligence. I mean, I know that wasn’t exactly your strong suit to begin with, but I’m sure you want to live to fight another day.
Unless of course, you really do want revenge on Regan for the aforementioned brain-smashing.
Either way, it’s your funeral, Alice. If you want to scrape together the little bit of brain cells you have left, we will be happy to smash those out of your head as well.
This isn’t a game. It’s not a training exercise. You’re stepping into the ring with the two most dangerous minds in this company. If you want to be merely another sacrifice on the alter of Affluenza, then I guess, that’s your choice.
But again, I emphasize,
It’s a stupid one.”
Jill Park woke some time later, with a pulsating headache. As she groaned and sat up, she realized she never did leave the sectional after her dramatic tumbling across the living room. There was still broken glass all around from the champagne bottle she haphazardly rocketed towards the floor. There were a lot more bodies past out than before, though. She shrugged, as that was fully expected. As she turned her attention to the still-opened patio doors she realized it was still the middle of the night. There was an odd moment of calmness, before she heard several thuds that came from just upstairs.
As Jill stumbled into a wall, she decided she was determined to find the source of the commotion. She also noted she hadn’t found Jake yet, and he clearly hadn’t tried to awaken her from her drunken nap. After fixing her dress, she grabbed a firm grasp of the railing that led to the second floor. Step by step she focused on what the next step was, focused on not being the stereotypical drunk girl falling down the stairs at her own party, even if it seemed moreorless over.
As she finally reached the last step, she seen the door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. Again, she set out on the journey down the hall, bouncing back and forth between both sides of the hall, before pushing open the door fully.
What she saw when she did that, was Jake Paul and two women getting dressed.
At first, her rage burned and it was all caught in her eyes as she glared at Jake, who had this dumbass look on his face(like he usually does). He didn’t have an explanation or excuse to give, and really, he knew trying to use one wouldn’t get himself any further. He told the girls to get out, knowing the things Jill was capable of.
Then something weird happened. Jill stepped up to him, and said “Nah, they can stay. I don’t care.”
Jill then turned on a dime, and nearly fell over before catching herself in the doorway. She then continued out of the room. Absolutely flabbergasted, Jake walked out to question her.
“You don’t care?” He said, as he caught up to her.
“Nope.” She replied, sharply. “Who are we fucking kidding, Jake? This relationship is a sham. We are using each other. It’s fun and all, but why should I give a shit, at all?”
There was a silence as Jill slowly descended down the staircase, with Jake a step behind.
“So like, what is this for you?”
“Performative.” She said quickly, as she kicked her way through the shards of glass that were all over the floor.
“And while I find it cute than you think you need to try and rationalize this relationship after I walked in on the cleaning up phase of a threesome you just had in my bedroom, it’s really unnecessary.”
“Jill, I’m sorry. We all had way too much to drink. But your reaction to it, is really weird.”
Jill grabbed another bottle of champagne off of a nearby shelf; it was barely opened.
“Is it?” She questioned back as she took another drink.
“So like, I get that I messed up. But, you’re telling me you have no feelings at all?”
Jill took one last drink, as she sat back down in the same place she had awoken minutes earlier.
“Nope.
Like I said, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Gerry…do you like being called Gerry?
Do I even care? No, why would I? Anyways…
Gerry, I hope you comprehend the gravity of the situation you currently find yourself in. You’ve had a magnificent first year here in Action Wrestling. You’ve managed to climb your way onto the top of the mountain. You reached the summit in barely no time at all. You’ve only lost a couple of times and you’ve flat out embarrassed a number of otherwise top talents in the process. In any other year in this company, you’d be heralded as having, without a doubt, the best year, by far, of anyone on the roster.
Except, you chose this year. You chose my year. I’ve won the United States Championship after obiliterating the field at Glory. I won the Women’s title in what is considered the biggest, and most watched Clash Main Event in HISTORY. I followed that up by winning All-In on the very next fucking SHOW.
And while you own the one thing I need to lay claim to the best year of my life, personal or professional, we both know it’s only a matter of time before that transaction is finalized. Whether you choose to admit it or not, the process has already begun.
I was barely holding the All-In briefcase for a few minutes, and you were laid at my feet; at my mercy. If it weren’t for Dandy DiVito acting like a petulant child after being told ‘no’, then perhaps you wouldn’t even be Champion at all.
That is the burning question in everyone’s mind right now, isn’t it? Would I have cashed in my All-In briefcase immediately? Would I have shocked the world a second time and put down Gerard Angelo, at Uprising? Well, let me spare everyone the angst of thinking about it. Let me spare everyone the useless interview by Jade Riley, so she can interview equally as useless talent about shit nobody cares about, to fill time.
Would I have cashed in at Uprising?
You’re damn right I would have.
You call yourself “The Living Legend” don’t you, Gerry? Well, it’s kind of funny. After defeating Lissie Hope…after showing the world that you were the real deal, that you were here to stay…you let a clown ambush you, beat the hell out of you, and drag you down to the ring.
How embarrassing.
So, I’ll put your mind at ease, Gerry. I ain’t coming for that World title on Clash. Not yet. On Clash, Affluenza will once again prove that we are true pillars of this company. That we still have our thumb on the pulse of Action Wrestling. I’ll beat you on Clash, Gerry…just to prove a point. Just to show you that I can.
So I can show you the future. So you know, emphatically, that we aren’t living in the era of Angelo.
We’re living in the era of Jill goddamn PARK.”
