Still at the Top

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Ashlee
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Still at the Top

Post by Ashlee »

Off Camera


It was a great chance to just disconnect and be. Trish was enjoying her time off camera so much lately. It helped that her personal life felt better than ever. Being away from the cameras gave her a chance to breathe. In fact, she couldn’t actually believe it, but on the Friday before Summerslam, she found herself standing in the living room of the pretty little Brownstone in St. Louis that she and Adam were renting. It was remodeled, but still charming. And she wasn’t sure that this was where they were planning to stay, but it was wonderful for now. The furnishings were new. She’d had the opportunity to outfit the kitchen, and there was a beautiful room upstairs for her daughter, Teagan. Teagan was staying in North Carolina with her dad, but Trish always saw her a few times per month. They’d just spent most of the summer together. It was a good arrangement. She was thinking about her ex-husband, Shane Helms, and their daughter when her mind wandered to Jay Reso. She could hear Adam in the kitchen, probably unpacking boxes of dishes. He’d talked about hiring someone, but she just wanted to put things away herself, and know where everything was. She walked into a room off to the side that would serve as a study, and saw a few fireproof cases set up there. She leaned over one, and pulled on the latches to open the top.

Trish was humming quietly to herself, as the top swung back on its hinges, and she unveiled a ton of wrestling memorabilia. This trunk seemed to have Adam’s things, though she guessed hers were somewhere in this room. She began to unpack the trunk, by grabbing sleep black dust bags that were heavy with the weight of championship belts. Adam had beautiful display cases to put them in, and she moved them aside as she reached into the trunk to grab further unearth the layers.

Her hands fell on a thick display frame, and as she lifted it she eyed the items inside. There were some ticket stubs to WWF’s Wrestlemania 2000 in Anaheim, a small replica of the event poster, one green wrist band and one silver wristband, and finally a photo of Adam and Jay, each holding a tag team championship above their heads. It had been their first title victory, a ladder match against the Dudleys and Hardys. Trish hadn’t known them very well back then, but she’d been on that show too, working as a valet for Test and Albert. She remembered thinking that night, and most of that year, that she’d be able to become as good a wrestler as the six men in that match. She kept her eyes trained on the photo of the childhood friends, and then lowered the frame back to the trunk. Her right hand didn’t leave the glass though as she felt emotion well up in her throat. She tried to choke it down, but it escaped into a muffled sob, and she sniffed hard. Before she knew what was happening tears were following, staining her cheeks and falling onto the glass. She quickly tried to bat the moisture away.

Adam Copeland: Trish?

She heard him call her name from the other room, and stifled another sob, trying to wipe her tears away, but it was too late. He was in the doorway, eyeing her.

Adam Copeland: Trish? Oh, no. What is it?

He looked around the room.

Adam Copeland:You don’t love it, do you? We can find something else. We can even find something in North Carolina if you want. I can make it work.

Trish shook her head wildly.

Trish Stratus: No…

Was she still sobbing? Why couldn’t she stop? Even though she kept trying to get control of herself, the tears continued to flow like a sieve.

Trish Stratus: No, I love it. I’m so happy about it. I already know I’m going to love living here so much, being so close to Randy and Nikki…. And to Nattie and Wes. This is… this is perfect.

He took a couple more steps toward her and put his hands on her shoulders comfortingly.

Adam Copeland:Then what it is, sweetheart?

Trish Stratus: Nothing. It’s nothing.

Adam Copeland:Trish. That wasn’t just crying. That was mournful. Talk to me.

Trish Stratus: I…

She looked away from him, back toward the trunk, and then turned her back to him. Looking at nothing, but not wanting to look at him either.

Trish Stratus: It wasn’t me, was it?

Adam Copeland: What wasn’t you?

Trish Stratus: You… and Jay. That wasn’t me, right? I… I didn’t cause that.

Adam Copeland: What?

He sounded so surprised, and she felt him come closer again. He grabbed her gently at the waist and turned her around.

Adam Copeland: Of course not. No, Trish.

Trish Stratus: You promise?

Adam Copeland: I do. I promise.

Trish Stratus: You’re sure?

Adam Copeland: Honey, look. You had nothing to do with it. He had everything to do with it. He’s Jay. He’s always going to be Jay, and if he called me and told me he needed me, I wouldn’t tell him to fuck off. We’ve grown apart because of a lot of things that happened. He got arrogant. He got sloppy. He really hated that Randy and I got so close.

Trish Stratus: He’s jealous of your friendship with Randy?

Adam Copeland: I’m sure he’d say he’s not. But we didn’t talk for months, and those months bled into a year or two, and I just knew when we weren’t those kids anymore.

Trish Stratus: When?

Adam Copeland: When he didn’t even call me or come to Toronto when my mom died. My mom, who kissed his skinned knees and took him to wrestling shows. When she died, and he acted like he didn’t even care? That’s when I knew I didn’t know him anymore, and that he’s not who I thought he was.

Trish Stratus: That’s also when I came back into your life. Same time. You realize that?

Adam Copeland: Trish, I know everything is about you. But this isn’t.

He smiled.

Adam Copeland: I promise.

He brushed a tear off of her cheekbone.

Adam Copeland: You’ve let her in your head.

Trish Stratus: What?

Adam Copeland: Alexa. You’re only even contemplating this, because of what she said.

Trish Stratus: I just worried that she might be right is all. Of everything she said, that’s what I’ve been thinking about the most.

Adam Copeland: He’s a pathological liar, who has his head so far up his own ass that he can’t see daylight. And she’s eating up his bullshit with a spoon. Believe me Trish.

He kissed her forehead.

Adam Copeland: Jay’s done this. And the best way to get back at him is to ignore him.

She nodded.

Adam Copeland: Let me help you unpack some of this, huh?

He squeezed her into a warm hug, and she nodded against his shoulder. Together, they turned back toward the memorabilia and set about making their house a home.

----------------


On Camera


The scene opened in front of a cozy set. Two comfy armchairs were set up behind a coffee table with a carafe of water. Michael Cole was seated in one chair, and Trish Stratus was seated in the other. As the scene went live, Cole began to speak.

Michael Cole:Last week, I have the distinct pleasure of overseeing the contract signing for the grudge match between Trish Stratus and Alexa Bliss that will take place at Summerslam! Joining me now, the longest reigning women’s champion in EBWF history, Trish Stratus. Thanks for being here, Trish.

Trish Stratus: Thank you for having me, Michael. I do want to clarify one thing. You called this a grudge match. I think a grudge match has to have two interested parties, and while I’m happy to beat Alexa here tonight, I certainly don’t have a grudge against her. I’d have to care about her, and what she thinks to even begin to hold a grudge.

Michael Cole:Noted. Alexa has had some pretty harsh things to say about you in the lead up to this match. How are you feeling about that.

Trish scoffed.

Trish Stratus: The first time Alexa came out and said her piece, I actually thought a lot about what she had to say. Like I said a few weeks ago, I felt like she had a point. But then I came to realize that that was what she was hanging her hat on. She hasn’t said anything new about me since then. She has to go after my personal life, because she’s out of ways to insult my career. And frankly, I’m tired of listening to her.

Michael Cole:Trish, Alexa continues to remind the EBWF Universe that she defeated you for the EBWF Women’s Championship several years ago at Wrestlemania…

Trish Stratus: She does, doesn’t she? Pretty sure that was the last time she saw any success. It’s cute that she thinks she’s co-leading that rag-tag little stable. If you ask me? The Coalition is the blind leading the blind. Alexa saw success back then, but everyone knows… everyone backstage, you, me… we all know that she’s not the same Alexa Bliss she used to be. We all know she hasn’t continued to better herself. Hone her craft. Prove she belongs here. She’s grown complacent, and that’s the difference between Alexa and me. I wake up. My feet hit the floor. I wonder what I can do to keep being the best at what I do. She thinks it should all be handed to her. Why is that, Michael? Because she’s a pretty face? Because she surrounds herself with a bunch of yes-men who make her feel like she’s the absolute best.

Michael Cole:You don’t think she’s good?

Trish Stratus: Don’t get me wrong. I used to. But Alexa has peaked, and now she’s on a sharp decline.

Michael Cole:Your detractors might say the same thing about you.

Trish Stratus: Would you?

Michael Cole:Would I what?

Trish Stratus: Consider me on a sharp decline?

Michael Cole:I mean, no… of course not.

Trish Stratus: Smart man. Anyone who thinks I’m not still at the top of my game isn’t someone whose opinion matters to me. Alexa’s name is the highest on that list.

She rolled her eyes.

Trish Stratus: I’m so tired of talking about Alexa. I’m so tired of hearing about Alexa. I’m so tired of looking at her, and listening to her, and being subjected to her matches. She’s insufferable, and sadly, she hasn’t always been that way. Little miss five feet of fury has gotten a little too big for her teeny, tiny britches.

She chuckled.

Trish Stratus: It’ll only be a matter of time before Christian loses interest and kicks her out of the Coalition. Then she’ll be left with nothing. She could have used this time to reinvent herself, but it’s obvious she’s learned nothing from me. So Michael, I’m inviting Alexa to come join me. Sit with me under the learning tree. Learn when the time for talking is over. Watch and be in awe. Because tonight, when I beat Alexa, and send her home questioning all the decisions she’s ever made? I will ensure that I never have to step into the ring for a nothing match, with that inconsequential, self important little bitch again.

She ripped the microphone from her lapel and tossed it down on the floor, before standing up and storming off the set. Michael Cole looked after her as the scene faded to black.
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