Expectations.

[Deleted]

"There's no greater power, than the power of goodbye."

-Madonna

In

Expectations

Ever since I was little, I had this recurring dream. Sometimes I don’t know if it’s a dream, or an actual memory, and the older I get the more that the lines between the two become blurred. In this dream, i’m sitting next to my mama on the beach over on Grand Isle back home in Louisiana. The water is lapping at our feet and we’re eating an ice cream cone. Part of me feels like this had to be a dream, because Ice Cream is something mama rarely approved of...but it always felt so real. The more time that passes, the less I can remember exactly what was said...but it’s more of a feeling that I got from the dream that stood out to me. It was a feeling of calm, of peace, and even happiness.

Now anyone that knows anything about my relationship with mama knows that ‘calm’ and ‘peace’ weren’t really things one would associate with our relationship. Still, even though our relationship had been a turbulent one over the years, I found myself always holding onto the memory of that dream...the feeling I got from it…I guess that’s why I always gave my mama chance after chance even after she’d done so many hurtful things to me in the past.

I can understand why that seems foolish to some people...but you’ve gotta understand, mama had a pretty rough go of things growing up. People often forget that she was only 14 when she gave birth to me, after meeting who she thought was the love of her life. I don’t know much about my birth father, but what I do know is that he was a devilishly handsome roughneck with that sort of bad-boy charm. Mama’s parents didn’t approve of him, on the count of he was from what they considered to be the wrong side of the tracks...and so once she told them that she was pregnant by him...well...they simply cut her off and disowned her. What’s even worse is, once she told my father who was only about 18 at the time, he split and was never heard from again. I think that’s why she despised Johnny so much. Maybe he reminded her of my dad, and she didn’t want me to suffer the same fate that she did. Who knows...

So there she was, a young unwed mother with no money and little education...but somehow she was determined to make a life for us. She worked some low paying jobs, doing whatever she had to do to make ends meet. One thing she had going for her was that she was a trained ballerina, so on occasion she would book some jobs dancing in music videos or as a backup dancer for local artists. She was about to get her big break when she turned 18, getting the opportunity of a lifetime to go on tour with a somewhat famous singer at the time...but touring life was not something she could do with a four year old to take care of. So she was passed up, and there went her dreams of stardom.

I often think she blamed me for costing her that shot at an opportunity to change her life for the better. I know this because she would tell me as much every opportunity she got. Still, she was determined to make lemons into lemonade. If she couldn’t be the star in the family, she was destined to make me one...living vicariously through her young daughter. That’s when she started entering me into pageants...and well...we all know what happened after that. The rest, as they say, is history...


Blair’s Home
Malibu, California

Confessionals for the reality show would be a little different this week. With Fashion Week being over, Blair was able to focus on her upcoming match against Anicka Swan for the Trans-Atlantic Title at Cold Front. For this reason, Blair had the camera crew come to her instead of her going to Siren Studios; the sound stage where she would normally record commentary for upcoming episodes of Brushing Up with The Buchannan’s.

Inside of her modest screening room, Blair was watching through prior matches between she and Anicka, studying her opponents moves and where she could make improvements. As she sat in one of the plush chairs, the light from the projector illuminated her face while she focused on the footage intently. Outfitted in a simple black lace Gucci mini dress with diamond studded straps falling off of each shoulder and a pair of black satin peep toe stilettos, Blair took a sip of champagne from the crystal flute in one hand. With her free hand, Blair lifted a remote to the screen and muted the volume, before looking into the camera and beginning to speak.

Blair Buchannan: " The Trans-Atlantic title is something that is very near and dear to my heart. The first time I won it was a game changer for me. It catapulted my career into a new level and cemented myself New Edge Wrestling history. It wasn’t just about the title...it was about proving myself to everyone, once and for all, that I was an actual force to be taken seriously as an athlete. Some of my most difficult matches took place with the Trans-Atlantic Championship Title on the line and in those matches I faced some of the toughest competitors this business have ever known. It’s one of the most prestigious titles in this industry, and i’ve been lucky enough to have earned the right to be called the TA Champion on four separate occasions. So I think it’s unfortunate that this week, the match that is going to take place between myself and Anicka Swan for that very title...at Cold Front, one of the biggest Pay Per View events of the season no less will be a match where the TA Title takes a backseat to ridiculous personal drama…"

I’m sure we all know what i’m referring to
...and to be honest, i’m sick of talking about it…

" I wish that Anicka and I were able to meet on different terms...Then maybe things would be different. I’m not saying we would have ended up as best friends braiding one another’s hair and gossiping over brunch...But it just so disappointing that two very intelligent, capable, strong women have been reduced to a couple of chicks allegedly fighting over some boys. I mean, seriously? Is that what we’re doing? I mean, obviously women in this industry are always going to be pit against one another but that doesn’t mean we have to perpetuate such stereotypes. I’m honestly disappointed in you Anicka, because instead of focusing on what could possibly be the biggest match of your NEW career thus far, you’ve decided to continue this ridiculous narrative of you somehow besting me by whatever is going on in your personal life. Let it be known, yet again, that I do not give two shits about you being with whoever you’re with on any given day of the week. I do not give a shit about your lil’ wolf pack...I spend more time trying to figure out what i’m going to wear each day than I do thinking about you..."

You are not relevant in my world
and you never will be!

" My focus is on winning this match and helping to maintain the prestige of the Trans-Atlantic title because when I think about what you would do with it...it quite honestly embarrasses me. I mean, say what you will about people like Cera or Scarlett but at least those women held the title with a little integrity. At least when I faced them, it was never about who we were with or what we did behind closed doors. It was always about putting on a hell of a show and giving our all to earn the right to be called a champion. It sickens me that you’re so content with existing in this weird fantasy world where our motives lie strictly with some silly ‘soap opera’ as you like to call it...what’s worse, is that I had some sort of respect for you before you revealed yourself to be such a short sighted, thirsty, attention starved groupie. It’s sad because as much bravado as you claim to possess, it has become clear to me and anyone with half a brain that you’re nothing but a …"

Fake, fraud, and phony.

...but the charade stops now…

" I’m not going to allow you to cheapen this company any more than you already have, and i’m certainly not going to tolerate you potentially tarnishing the name of the Trans-Atlantic Title. It’s bad enough that you’ve already allowed yourself to fall victim to the cliche of us being pit against each other purely for the enjoyment of the men running this company. As if that weren’t enough of a joke in and of itself, you’ve actually convinced yourself that my previous victory over you the last time we faced each other one on one was some sort of a fluke! I mean really, I only beat you because you were going easy on me? What a cop out! I seem to remember you singing quite a different tune prior to that match...so which is it? Were you lying then or are you lying now? So fraudulent...I don’t know how you sleep at night...Well, actually I do...but in the interest of keeping things classy, i’d rather just stick to the task at hand..."

Winning my title for the 5th time

...and putting you in your place, once again...

" I don’t know who you’ve fooled into thinking you’re anything more that mediocre, at best, but you cannot fool me; and your tired attempt at mind games don’t work on me either. How many times can you regurgitate the same tired rhetoric before people get tired of it? Is that really all you’ve got? Is that really what you need to do to stay relevant? Literally spitting out some of the same shit I’ve said about you and even my own self and acting like it’s something groundbreaking? Repeating over and over how horrible of a mother I am...Do you think you spending time with the child I birthed makes me jealous? Do you think it annoys me one bit that you’re with my ex who I dumped a long time ago? Haven’t we already gone over this a million times? Why don’t you try talking about something that matters like...I dunno...how much of a better athlete you are than me? Oh, that’s right, you can’t talk about any of that, because the facts are the facts...and the fact remains, Wolf Pussy, that I did serve you your first loss because in that match I was better than you. Plain and simple. You can spin whatever you want but the history books don’t lie…”

Check my credentials
And then check your lipstick
Before you try and check me!

" At the end of the day, this is not about whether or not you think you’ve won and in some way humiliated me...this is about wrestling, technique, skill, and who is the better competitor. It seems like you either forgot, or don’t even care, that this match is for the Trans-Atlantic title. You failed to recognize the significance of this title...that we’re battling it out to compete for a title that was vacated by a woman considered to be the greatest TA Champion of all time. That doesn’t hold more weight to you than whatever silly vendetta you have against me? Do you not realize the magnitude of the situation, or the shoes we are attempting to fill? Whoever wins this match will have the task of making sure to uphold the legacy of what this belt represents...now, I am well aware of what that means. After all, i’ve done it four times before...but you, do you understand what it means to be TA Champ? Do you even care? Or are you so focused on being in the center of petty drama that all of this is just a side hustle for you?"

This isn’t a soap opera, hun
If you want to be an actress, take your fake ass back to AW!

" Leave the heavy lifting for those of us who are actually ready to put in the work. The Trans-Atlantic title is meant for those who are actually able to represent people across the globe. Do you consider yourself worldly? No, not really..I mean, I guess you represent a specific group of people...in such case, you’re more of a regional type of chick. A novelty...not a mainstay. Me? My brand? I represent something for people to aspire to. I represent ambition, drive, and a willingness to do whatever it takes to get to the top. You? You’re perfectly content to just be known as some whore from Jersey who gets her kicks off of trying to be shocking...when really, anything and everything you do has already been done a few times over. I mean really, remember what I said when we first faced off against each other? Anicka Swan will fade into obscurity and will only be brought up when associated with her feud with Blair Buchannan. It’s happening now. Can you feel it ?"

People are already forgetting about you

...and now all your tricks are used up…

" Your repetitiveness and unwillingness to evolve in any way has already proven that you’ve gone about as far as you’re going to go in this company. Just another flash in the pan. Cheap thrills can only get you so far if you don’t have much to back it up with. Your boy toy Dane had to learn this the hard way, but at least he’s learned and found his place at the bottom of the card where he belongs. You’re a little more stubborn that he is, but you’re gonna learn your place at Cold Front. All that shit talk and all the whack ass song lyrics in the world won’t be able to help you in the ring. So let this be yet another lesson to you...Once I whoop that ass again, and reclaim my rightful spot as Trans-Atlantic Champion, close this chapter of your life where I am concerned. You don’t belong in my category...you don’t even belong on the same shelf as me..."

I’m Vogue
...and you’re just TV Guide…
i don’t even know if they make that shit anymore!

“Excuse me, Mrs Buchannan-Stylez…” A voice called out, interrupting Blair’s confessional. It was one of her security guards.

Blair Buchannan: “Yes?” She asked, holding up one hand to signal for the crew to stop filming.

Security Guard: “Your guest has arrived. She’s waiting in the Dining Room.”

Blair Buchannan: “Thank you…” Blair stood up then, smoothing out any wrinkles in her dress before turning to the film crew and addressing them head on. “I think that’s enough for this evening. Why don’t you all head home? I have some business to attend to.”

After dismissing the camera crew, Blair waited until everyone had left her home before making her way out of the screening room. The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor as she stepped down the long corridor leading to the dining room echoed off of the walls and vaulted high ceiling above her. Upon reaching the dining room, Blair saw her guest who was leaning against the long banquet style table at the center of the space.

Denise Buchannan: “Well, it’s about time. You call me here in the middle of the night and then keep me waiting. What’s this all about?”

Blair took in a deep breath, her face not giving way to any emotions that may have been stirring inside of her. She calmly made her way over to the opposite end of the table, before taking her place in the chair at the head of it before motioning for her mother to do the same.

Blair Buchannan: “Have a seat, mama….we need to talk.”

Denise Buchannan: “I’ll stand, thank you very much.”

Blair Buchannan: “Please…” Blair motioned to the seat in front of Denise. “I insist.”

Denise Buchannan: “Alright then…” Begrudgingly, Denise pulled out the chair opposite Blair and slid into it. “Mind telling me what this is all about?”

Blair Buchannan: “I’m not going to mince words, so i’m just going to get to the point. I feel like your position as General Manager of the Icon Modeling Agency has been compromised. I feel it is in the best interest of the company if you were to no longer hold that position, so I am hereby stripping you of your role.”

Denise Buchannan: “Ex...excuse me?”

Blair Buchannan: “I am prepared to offer you a very generous compensation package for your work, but at this time I don’t think you’re fit to represent my brand and so I’m afraid i’m going to have to terminate your position. I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

Denise Buchannan: “You’re...you’re joking right?”

Blair Buchannan: “Afraid not.”

Denise Buchannan: “You can’t just fire me! On What grounds?!”

Blair Buchannan: “Oh please, mama...it’s common knowledge that you’ve made the unfortunate decision to...cavort with people who I don’t think have my best interest at heart?”

Denise Buchannan: “You mean, you’re firing me because I slept with Shane Sparx.”

Blair Buchannan: “Correct.”

Denise Buchannan: “...and just where the hell do you get off thinking you have any say in what I do in my personal life?! It’s none of your business.”

Blair Buchannan: “Actually, that’s where you’re wrong. You made it my business when you decided to spread your legs for someone that you are well aware I have a bad history with. I can’t have you tarnishing MY brand with your questionable behavior.”

Denise Buchannan: “Tarnishing YOUR brand!?” She exclaimed, rising from her seat. “You ungrateful little bitch! Do you know how much I have sacrificed just so you could even HAVE a brand?! If it weren’t for me, you’d be nothing!”

Blair Buchannan: “I am so sick of you blaming me for your shitty life choices! You’ve basically tried to sabotage me at every turn and like an idiot I give you chance after chance. No more. It’s over, mama!”

Denise Buchannan: “Oh no, you little brat! It’s not over until I say it’s over!”

With that, Denise lunged onto the table and pounced at Blair like a leopard, tackling her. The chair Blair was seated in tipped over, sending both of the women to the ground. Straddling Blair, Denise began trying to strike Blair with her fists. In an effort to defend herself Blair, the more experienced fighter of the two, forced Denise off of her. As Denise flew off of Blair, she hit her head on a nearby coffee table and landed awkwardly on the ground.

After a moment, Blair struggled to get up. When she finally got to her feet, she turned to the downed body of her mother before shouting.

Blair Buchannan: “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Have you completely lost your mind?!”

A cold chill ran down Blair’s spine upon no response from Denise, who lay still on the ground.

Blair Buchannan: “Mama…?” She called out. Again, no response. “MAMA!”

Blair rushed to her mothers side, kneeling down next to her and turning her over revealing a huge gash to the side of Denise’s head which had blood spilling out of it.

Blair Buchannan: “Oh my God...Mama! Mama get up!”

Blair tried her best to do what she remembered of CPR, but to no avail. It was too late. Denise was dead on impact. Blair sat there on her knees next to her mother’s lifeless body, trembling with a mixture of fear and irrational anger.

Blair Buchannan: “Wake up!!!!” She screamed, slapping her mother in the face. “Wake up!!!”

Her screams turned into cries of anguish. Blair desperately tried to revive Denise but her efforts were futile. Now sobbing uncontrollably, Blair layed down next to her mother, the two of them covered in Denise’s blood.

After a brief moment of hysteria, Blair was able to regain her composure and sprung into survival mode. She frantically searched for her phone. Once she did, she dialed the number of the only person she knew who could help at a moment like this.

About an hour later…

Blair sat on the staircase in an almost catatonic state as she watched the paramedics load the body of her mother onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Wrapped in a blanket provided by an EMT, Blair was practically in a trance. A policeman, trying to get her statement, had all of his words fall on deaf ears as Blair was clearly unresponsive. Realizing he was getting nowhere, the officer turned to Brandon Moore who was standing a few yards away. Blair, realizing what a public relations nightmare this situation would be, had phoned Brandon prior to the cops and paramedics arriving to help her do damage control.

Cop : “Mister... Moore is it? Can you tell me what happened here?”

B. Moore : “Look fella, me and my girl Blair were just chillin n shit, right? We was plotting some shit fo work. We’re professional wrasslers bubba.”

Cop : “That’s where I know you from guy.” The cop leans in and speaks where only Brandon can hear. “Huge fan man. Love what you do to them whores.”

The cop sniffs as he leans back and looks around to be sure he wasn’t heard.

B. Moore : “My dude.”

Cop : “I know you’ll definitely tell me the truth, so what happened? Is Mrs. Buchanan-Stylez alright?”

B. Moore : “Bruh, she almost wasn’t. That fuggin mother of hers was on some straight bullshit my dude. I don’t even know what set her off, bitch was just crazy. Went after Blair trying to kill her, and she nearly succeeded too, and the next thing you know the whore is down and Blair is screaming all loud n shit. It was total self defense fella. She’s lucky to be alive.”

Cop : “I see. I know where you’re going with this. It’s clearly obvious Mrs. Buchannan-Stylez was clearly within her rights to defend her life, and there was no wrong doing here.”

B. Moore : “That’s what I’ve been tryin to tell everybody dude, ain’t nobody else as smart as you or somethin. Make sure my girl is taken care of guy, that’s the princess of Defiance. You wouldn’t wanna.. become a patron now would you?”

Cop : “Sir, say no more. I’ll do my best to show her innocence.”

B. Moore : “Hey friend, just do me a favor. Do the best of somebody better.”

Cop : “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

Brandon pulls out some bear claws and jelly filled donuts straight outta nowhere, holding them out.

B. Moore : “Well go on and getchu one bubba.”

Cop : “Ohh, I shouldn’t.”

B. Moore : “Coome ooon..”

Cop : “I really shouldn’t.”

B. Moore : “Coooommme oooonnn you know you wanna!”

Cop : “Oh alright I guess one won’t hurt.” The cop grabs a bear claw, all salivating at the mouth n shit. Just then this bigger asshole cop pops up from around the way, slapping the donut from his partners grasp.

Asshole Cop : “Pull yourself together Jim, we’re workin here!”


The officers, seemingly satisfied with Brandon’s account of the events that had just transpired, wrapped up their investigation for the moment. One of the officers gave Brandon his card and asked him to contact him if he had any more information, before they packed up and left. Blair watched, her eyes glazed over, as the ambulance pulled off carrying the body of her mother inside.

B. Moore: “You alright, B?”

He asked, approaching Blair who was still in a state of shock. All she could really do was nod her head.

B. Moore: “You should get cleaned up and try to get some sleep. I’ll stick around for a while in case you need anything.”


Later that night, after Blair had washed the blood of her mother off of her body, she climbed into bed. After taking some heavy muscle relaxers and washing them down with champagne, Blair drifted off to sleep.

That night, she had the dream again...only this time it was different. She was still on the beach, next to her mother, only it wasn’t her as a child. It was her as an adult, sitting next to her mother who was also an adult. They both indulged in ice cream cones as the water lapped at their feet.

Blair Buchannan: “Mama...can I ask you a question?”

Denise Buchannan: “Anything, sugar…”

Blair Buchannan: “Are you proud of me?”

Denise Buchannan: “Oh cheri...i’m always proud of you. Always have been.”

Blair Buchannan: “Why didn’t you ever tell me? I feel like i've been trying to live up to your expectations for so long...”

Denise Buchannan: “Who knows why people do the things they do...but you can’t focus on that, darling...regardless of what happens...you have to find a reason to smile...especially on beautiful days like this. After all, we have so few of them.”

xx