Black girls

11:53 Hana_Jeong: I sit on the narrow wooden bench in the locker room, the hum of the old fluorescent lights above me almost louder than my own thoughts. The smell of sweat, tape, and dust fills the air — it’s not glamorous, but to me, this is what a dream smells like. I came all the way from Seoul for this. I still can’t believe I’m actually here, about to step into a ring in New York City. I glance down at my phone and smile — a message from my boyfriend. I type quickly: “Wish you were here. After tonight, I’ll call you, promise ❤️.” Just as I hit send, the door slams open. I flinch. I see Leah Jordan standing there, her eyes sharp, her presence filling the room like a storm cloud.

11:53 Hana_Jeong:

11:54 Hana_Jeong:

11:58 Leah_Jordan: I was ready to explode. They told me I wasn’t getting the title shot tonight — me, the one who’s been carrying this division for months. And then I see her. A pathetic asian jobber girl, sitting there smiling at her phone like she’s in a movie. I don’t even think before I walk up, my voice cutting through the air. “So this is who they’re giving ring time to instead of me? You gotta be kidding.” She looks up, wide-eyed, like she doesn’t even know what to say. That makes me angrier, somehow. I cross my arms and stare her down. I shove her head “Get your ass in the ring, dragon lady. you'll be my jobber tonight given that I sent the other rookie to the hospital”

11:59 Leah_Jordan:

12:05 Hana_Jeong: My throat tightens. I want to say something — anything — but my voice refuses to come out. My phone is still in my hand, and I can feel it shaking slightly. I lower my eyes, hoping she’ll just walk away, that this moment will pass. Leah walks away. I can hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears. My fingers curl around the wall. Every muscle in my body is trembling. I text my friend saying I'm fucked up, I'm gonna wrestle a former women's champion but he replies: "Hana, just trust yourself. You dream about this every night in our bed before we fall asleep. You got this, babe❤️". I adjust my knee pads give a big breath and walk towards the ring.

12:06 Hana_Jeong:

12:13 Leah_Jordan: I storm out of the locker room, my boots — no, my kickpads — echoing down the narrow hallway. The crowd’s noise from the arena leaks through the thin walls, and it just makes my blood boil hotter. I push through the curtain, and the lights hit me hard. The fans cheer at first — they always do — but I’m not in the mood to play hero tonight. I grab the mic from the announcer and pace the ring. “You all wanna know something?” I shout. “I’m pissed off!” A few cheers, a few boos — I don’t care. “They told me I’m not getting my title match tonight. Said they had ‘other plans.’” I scoff, shaking my head. “So you know what? I need to hit something. I need to hurt somebody. Give me a match — anyone! I don’t care who it is!” The crowd buzzes. I pace again, grin twisting across my face. “Hell, send me a jobber if you got one! I’m all messed up tonight — I need a warm-up before I lose my mind!”

13:50 Hana_Jeong: I press myself flat against the cool fabric of the curtain, every sound from the ring magnified — Leah’s voice like a crack of thunder, the crowd answering her anger. My hands are still damp from wrapping tape; my chest feels too tight to breathe. I can hear the booker’s footsteps behind me, a rough whisper in my ear: “You go out there, you do your job. Take it, real quick, and you get your paycheck at the end of the show.” The words are blunt and final. My stomach flips. I want to tell him no, to tell him I didn’t come all the way from Seoul to be used like this — but I’m here. I need this. I need the chance, even if it’s only ten minutes under the lights. I swallow and force my legs to move. My mouth tastes like metal. I tell myself this is only a performance. I tell myself I can survive ten minutes. I tell myself I’ll call my boyfriend after, like I promised. Still, as I edge closer to the curtain, my whole body trembles. Fear squeezes my throat, but something else flickers underneath it — a hot, strange ember that could be shame, or anger, or the first hint of a promise I don’t yet understand. I step forward.

13:51 Hana_Jeong:

13:54 Leah_Jordan: I hear the rustle at the curtain before I see her — the audience caught between curiosity and appetite for violence. When Hana stumbles into view, the little rookie with the foreign accent and the nervous smile, the crowd’s reaction shifts. Some sympathetic murmurs, a few jeers — perfect. I grin wide and lean on the ropes, mic in hand. “Bring me a jobber now!,” I shout, pacing like a caged animal. “Get your ass up here, bitch.” I let the words hang, loud and slow"

13:56 Hana_Jeong: The lights blind me as soon as I step through the curtain. The sound of the crowd hits me next — loud, uneven, curious. My heart’s pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to break through my chest. Every step down the ramp feels heavy, like I’m walking underwater. I can feel sweat running down the back of my neck, cold against my skin. My hands are trembling, and I keep telling myself to breathe, but it’s not working. When I finally climb onto the apron, I pause, staring at the ropes. They look higher than they did earlier during practice. My body doesn’t want to move, but somehow I duck inside the ring. The air feels thick, charged. I can’t look at Leah — not yet. I hear the referee telling me to stand in my corner, and I obey like a robot. I wipe my hands on my thighs and whisper to myself in Korean, “괜찮아, 하나야... You’re okay, Hana.” I kiss discreetly my right taped wrist underneath I hide a folded small picture of me and my parents. But my voice cracks. I see Leah in the opposite corner, pacing, smiling like this is just another night. I feel like I could throw up.

14:10 Leah_Jordan: I watch her come down that ramp, all nerves and wide eyes. She looks like a lamb walking into a storm. The crowd picks up on it, and I feed off their noise. I start clapping mockingly, slow and loud. “Aww, look at her! Isn’t she adorable, y’all?!” I say it with a smirk, pacing closer to the center of the ring. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make it fast.” The ref steps between us, but I lean forward just enough so she can hear me whisper " you gonna die here, girl.” The bell hasn’t even rung yet, but I can already see the fear in her eyes — and that’s all the fuel I need. Just as the referee is about to start the match, I interrupt him. “Wait a minute, ref. This match just got upgraded. No holds barred, baby!” The crowd erupts, and I can see the confusion and fear in Hana’s eyes. She swallows hard, trying to hide her nerves. I immediately deliver a powerful punch on her jaw.

14:17 Hana_Jeong: My heart sinks as Leah announces the no holds barred rule. This is it; I’m going to get destroyed. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The referee steps back, and the bell rings, sharp and final. I raise my fists, ready to defend myself, but I know it’s futile. Leah lunges forward, her movements fluid and confident. She’s fast, and I’m no match for her speed. She lands a solid punch to my jaw, and I stumble back, tasting blood. I cry out in pain, falling to the mat "Fuck... ahhh" yt.

10:53 Leah_Jordan: I smirk as I see Hana struggling to get up. I demand a chair from the audience and someone throws one to the ring. I grab it and swing it at her, connecting with her side. SPAAAAAASSSSSSSSH "Get up, jobber girl. We are just starting" I shout. I swing again the chair aiming her head

10:57 Hana_Jeong: Time seems to slow. Leah winds up for the second swing and my whole body screams to run — but something steadies me instead. I tuck my chin, drop my weight, and dive to the side before the chair comes back around. The metal whooshes past my shoulder; the air is cut clean where it would’ve landed. I plant my foot, push off the mat, and fire a low, lightning-fast dropkick right into the soft of her knees. It’s not elegant — it’s desperate — but it finds its mark. Leah’s legs give out; she crumples to the canvas, surprised air escaping her mouth. Heat floods my chest, but I don’t hesitate. I spring up, feel the crowd’s roar like a being of its own, and spin. My boot snaps out in a clean enziguri — a sideways kick that clips her head as she’s still recovering, and she rolls from the impact.

11:09 Leah_Jordan: What the—? My ears ring from that kick, and the mat tilts under me as I try to push myself up. I didn’t expect her to move, much less hit me. For a second, I just stare at her, blinking, trying to process what just happened. The crowd’s reaction hits me like a slap — they’re actually cheering her. “No way…” I mutter under my breath, my confidence wobbling. I scoot back on my hands and knees, instinct kicking in, sliding toward the ropes to put distance between us. My pride burns hotter than the pain. “Hey I need a time-out I was not ready for this"

11:14 Hana_Jeong: My anger boils over, a red haze clouding my vision. I spot the chair lying on the mat, a glint of malicious intent crossing my mind. With a swift movement, I grab the chair, the metal cold and hard in my grip. Leah turns to address the crowd, her voice hoarse as she calls for a timeout. "I need a timeout, ref!" she shouts, her hands raised in a pleading gesture. But I have no intention of letting her catch her breath. With a roar of rage, I charge forward, the chair raised high above my head. The crowd falls silent, their eyes wide with anticipation and fear. I bring the chair down with a brutal force, the metal connecting with Leah's back. She crumples to the mat, a pained grunt escaping her lips. I don't stop there. I raise the chair again, my movements fueled by a relentless anger. I bring the chair down again and again, each strike more violent than the last. Leah curls into a ball, her arms wrapped around her head, trying to protect herself from the onslaught. The crowd watches in stunned silence, the sound of metal against flesh echoing through the arena. My breaths come in ragged gasps, my muscles trembling with exertion and rage. I stand over Leah, the chair raised one last time, and deliver a final chair shot in her face.

11:18 Leah_Jordan: Everything goes white-hot for a second — like someone flipped a light switch inside my skull. I didn’t see the last swing coming; one second I’m on my knees, the next I’m tasting something metallic and warm in my mouth. Pain blooms across my face and head, sharp and immediate, and my vision shivers at the edges. Blood is starting to come out from my forehead and I notice I drooled.

11:22 Hana_Jeong: I see Leah's limp body sprawled on the mat, blood dripping from her mouth and nose, her eyes glazed over with pain. A cruel smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I approach her, my movements deliberate and vicious. With a violent grip, I grab a handful of her curly hair, yanking her head back. Leah lets out a pained cry, her body going limp as I drag her across the mat, her feet scraping against the canvas. The crowd watches in horrified fascination, their cheers turning to a chorus of gasps and murmurs. I pull her to the corner of the ring, where I expose the steel turnbuckle. My heart pounding with a savage satisfaction. Leah's eyes widen in realization, a whimper escaping her lips. Without hesitation, I smash her bloodied face against the turnbuckle, once, twice, three times. The sound of metal against flesh is sickening, and Leah's body goes slack, her blood smearing the steel. I can feel her bones crunching under the impact, and a primal roar escapes my throat. "YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" I scream, my voice echoing through the arena like that of an Amazon warrior. The crowd is on their feet, a mix of awe and horror on their faces. I stand tall, my chest heaving with exertion and triumph, as Leah's lifeless body slumps to the mat, a broken and bloodied mess.

11:25 Leah_Jordan: My face is a mask of blood, the coppery taste filling my mouth as I scream in horror. The sound that escapes my throat is raw and primal, born of sheer terror and agony. I stare up at Hana, my tormentor, my eyes wide with fear. "Please... no more... I can't take it anymore!" I cry, my voice hoarse and broken, pleading for my life. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry! Oh my God" Hana drops me to the mat, my body hitting the canvas with a sickening thud. I try to crawl away, my movements sluggish and uncoordinated. I leave a trail of blood in my wake, a gruesome path marking my desperate attempt to escape. "Please... let me go...please somebody help me..." I whimper, my voice trailing off into a pained moan. My hands and knees are slick with blood, and I slip and slide on the mat, my progress slow and agonizing. The crowd watches in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on my humiliation and pain. I am no longer the confident, dominant wrestler I once was.

11:31 Hana_Jeong: The female referee steps between us, her hands raised, trying to make me let go. But I'm not done. The humiliation and bullying Leah inflicted on me boil over, fueling my rage. With a swift movement, I roundhouse kick the referee, sending her crashing to the mat. I don't waste a second. I grab the leather belt from her waist, the metal buckle cold and hard in my hand. Leah's body is a broken, bloodied mess as she crawls towards the edge of the ring. I see her fall like a worm onto the ringside floor, her body limp and helpless. A savage grin spreads across my face as I slide out of the ring, the belt coiled in my fist. Leah is on her hands and knees, her back to me, as I approach her like a predator. I raise the belt high, the metallic part glinting under the arena lights. With a feral scream, I whip her across the back, the sound of leather against flesh echoing through the arena. Leah lets out a pained cry, her body convulsing with each strike. "YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" I roar, my voice a primal battle cry. I whip her again and again, the belt leaving red welts across her skin, the metallic part tearing into her flesh. Leah's cries turn to whimpers, her body shaking with each impact. I wrap the belt around my fist, the leather digging into my skin, and stand over Leah. She looks up at me, her eyes filled with terror and pain. I raise my fist, the belt buckle glinting menacingly, and bring it down on her face with a vicious punch. The crowd watches in horrified fascination as I pummel her, each strike more brutal than the last. Leah's face is a bloody mess, her eyes swelling shut. I continue to rain down blows, my fist a blur of motion, driven by a relentless anger and a desire to end her career, if not her life. The arena is filled with the sound of my grunts and Leah's pained cries, a symphony of violence and vengeance. I stand tall, my chest heaving with exertion and triumph, as Leah's lifeless body slumps to the floor, a broken and bloodied shell.

11:35 Leah_Jordan: I take the belt like a bitch, the leather digging into my flesh as I scream in agony, my voice choked with my own blood. "She's gonna kill me!" I shout, my plea for help echoing through the arena, desperate and raw. The crowd watches in horrified silence, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Hana stands over me, her fist wrapped in the belt, the metal buckle glinting menacingly under the lights. She raises her fist, and I brace myself for the impact. The first punch connects with my face, sending a shockwave of pain through my skull. I feel my nose crunch under the force, the bone shattering into fragments. I scream, a guttural, primal sound, as Hana rains down blow after blow. Each strike is more brutal than the last, my face taking the full force of her fury. I taste blood in my mouth, coppery and thick, and I spit out a tooth, the sharp edge cutting my lip as it falls from my mouth. Hana stands over me, her chest heaving with exertion, her eyes blazing with a savage satisfaction. I lie on the floor, my face a bloody mess, my nose broken and teeth missing. I can feel the warm, sticky blood pooling beneath me, seeping into the mat, a grim testament to the violence I've endured. The crowd is a blur of faces, their expressions a mix of horror and awe. I can hear their murmurs, their gasps, but they seem distant, muffled by the ringing in my ears. I try to move, to crawl away, but my body is broken, my limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Hana looms over me, her shadow falling across my face, a dark omen of the end. I can feel her breath, hot and ragged, on my skin. I know that this is it, the end of my career, maybe even my life. And as I lie there, broken and bloodied, I can't help but wonder if this is how it was always meant to be.

11:47 Leah_Jordan:

11:47 Leah_Jordan:

11:52 Hana_Jeong: I look down at Leah's hot body, limp and broken beneath me. Her face is already disfigured and swollen, a gruesome sight that brings a twisted satisfaction. But I'm not done yet, and neither is the crowd. They want more, and I intend to give it to them. With a fierce determination, I grab a nearby table, my muscles tensing with anticipation. I reach down and grab Leah by her hair, yanking her head back with a violent tug. She lets out a pained cry, her body going limp as I drag her across the mat towards the table. The crowd roars with excitement, their cheers fueling my adrenaline. I place Leah's battered body on the table, her limbs splayed out like a broken doll. I can feel the crowd's anticipation building, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. I climb up to the top turnbuckle, my movements fluid and precise. The arena falls silent for a moment, the weight of the impending action hanging heavy in the air. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest, and then I leap. I perform a beautiful moonsault, my body arcing through the air with grace and power. The crowd erupts into a deafening roar as I crash down onto Leah, the table splintering beneath the impact. The sound of wood shattering and metal groaning fills the arena, a symphony of destruction and violence. Leah's body convulses with the force of the impact, her pained screams echoing through the arena. I land on top of her, my body pinning her to the broken table, the sharp edges digging into her flesh. The crowd is on their feet, a chorus of cheers and applause washing over me.

11:55 Leah_Jordan: I barely feel alive, my body convulsing with each ragged breath. The taste of blood fills my mouth, thick and metallic, as I vomit, the warm liquid spilling from my lips. I can feel the sharp, piercing pain in my side, a broken rib no doubt, each movement sending waves of agony through my torso. My eyes roll back in my head, the world spinning in a dizzying blur. I can feel my body twitching, spasms racking through my muscles, completely beyond my control. The crowd's cheers and Hana's triumphant roar fade into the background, replaced by a deafening ringing in my ears. I can feel the sharp edges of the broken table digging into my back, the wood splinters tearing at my skin.

12:05 Hana_Jeong: I scoop Leah's limp body from the mat, her broken form dangling in my grip. With a violent thrust, I slam her onto the cold, unyielding steel of the ring steps. Her body crumples, a pained groan escaping her lips as her bones rattle from the impact. I leave her there, a broken doll discarded on the unforgiving metal. I grab a strong rope, the fibers rough against my skin. With a swift, practiced motion, I lift Leah's body, her limp arms and legs flopping like a rag doll. I attach her wrists to the top of the turnbuckle, ensuring the rope is tight and unyielding. Her body sways gently, suspended in mid-air, her feet barely touching the canvas. I position her so that she hangs next to the ring's steel post, a grotesque display of my dominance. I grab a baseball bat, the wood smooth and heavy in my hands. With a savage grin, I approach Leah, her eyes wide with terror and pain. I start to maul her body, each swing of the bat connecting with a sickening thud. I can feel her internal organs shifting and tearing with each impact, her screams of agony music to my ears. Her body convulses, blood spattering the mat and the ropes as I continue my relentless assault. I can see the life draining from her eyes, her breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps. The crowd watches in horrified fascination, their cheers turning to a chorus of shock and awe. I raise the bat one last time, my muscles tensed and ready to deliver the final blow. Leah's body goes limp, her head lolling to the side as consciousness slips away. I bring the bat down with a force that shatters her ribs and collapses her lungs, ensuring that her internal organs are beyond repair.

13:54 Leah_Jordan: I barely feel alive, my body convulsing with each ragged breath. The agony is so intense that I can barely distinguish between the pain and the darkness that threatens to consume me. I can feel the warm, sticky blood pooling in my mouth, and with a weak cough, I vomit it out, the coppery taste overwhelming my senses. My internal organs feel like they're being torn apart, each breath a struggle as I fight against the internal hemorrhaging. The world around me spins, and I can feel my body twitching uncontrollably, my muscles spasming in a desperate, futile attempt to function. My eyes roll back in my head, the white of my eyes the last thing I see before everything goes black. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I can hear the distant sounds of the crowd, their cheers and gasps a muffled, indistinct roar. I feel hands on me, rough and urgent, as wrestlers and staff from backstage hurry to my aid, their voices a blur of panic and concern. An ambulance is called, the wail of its siren a haunting, distant sound that seems to come from another world. I don't know where I am, or how long I've been here, but I know one thing with a chilling certainty: I'm almost dead. The darkness closes in, and I let it take me, my body a broken, bloodied shell, hanging limp and lifeless in the grip of those who rush to save me.

14:01 Hana_Jeong: I walk down the corridor, my wrestling shoes leaving bloody footprints on the cold floor. The tension in the air is palpable, the adrenaline that fueled my actions slowly ebbing away. As I make my way to the locker room, the reality of what I've done begins to sink in. The booker's voice echoes in my mind, his words a harsh, unyielding command: "Go to the locker room. Everyone is concerned about her state. She's about to die if she's not dead already." I push open the door to the locker room, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. I sit on the bench, my body aching with exhaustion and the weight of my actions. I lean back, my head resting against the cold metal of the locker, and close my eyes. As the adrenaline fades, I realize the true extent of what I've done. I almost killed a young woman, just like me. A woman who, not so long ago, was my bully, but now is a broken, bloodied mess fighting for her life in the hospital. The thought sends a chill down my spine, and I shiver despite the warmth of the room. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the weight of guilt and exhaustion is almost too much to bear. I've beaten my demons, but at what cost? The message from the booker flashes across my phone screen, a harsh reminder of the consequences of my actions. "Leah is now fighting for her life in the hospital. Her career is over and probably she will not be able to do a normal life. You are fired." I read the words, each one a stab to my heart. I know I should feel remorse, regret, but all I can feel is a numbing emptiness. I've won my battle, but at the cost of everything else. I sit alone in the locker room, the echoes of my actions hanging heavy in the air, as I try to come to terms with the reality of what I've done.. I call my boyfriend and tell him " The sweet young korean girl no longer exists" 

14:02 Hana_Jeong:

14:13 Hana_Jeong:

14:16 Leah_Jordan:

14:16 Leah_Jordan: (END)