NEW - NOIR EXTREME WRESTLING

Hana_Jeong: I rush through the backstage corridor after you, the echoes of metal lockers slamming and equipment crashing against the walls making everyone clear the way. One of the folding chairs spins across the floor after you kick it aside in pure rage. “Lauren!” My voice comes out sharper than I expected. You grab a water bottle from a table and hurl it against the concrete wall. It explodes everywhere. I finally catch up to you near the locker room entrance and instinctively grab your wrist before you can slam another crate over. “Lauren, can you please stop and listen to me?” I’m breathing hard, partly from running after you and partly because seeing you like this genuinely scares me "You are not going to face her! You aren't ready for her!"

Lauren_James: I feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, hot and jagged, but your touch on my wrist forces me to pivot. I yank my arm back, not with malice, but with a restless, pent-up energy that needs somewhere to go. I’m furious, and even worse, I’m starting to realize that challenging Sara in front of the entire roster in front of the girls who already whispered about us was a strategic disaster. But I can't back down now. "Hana, this is all your fault," I snap, my voice echoing in the locker room. "I told you I didn't want that bitch in our place. She's a bad influence for you. I told you, and you didn't listen." I invade your space, leaning my body against yours until we're chest-to-chest, forcing you to look up at me. I need to make sure you're locked in. "You are coming with me to have my back, do you understand?" I reach out, my index finger stabbing at your chest with every word, punctuating the insult. "I’m the only one who's really your friend, and yet you act like this innocent, pure girl, like always. You are not my friend like I am yours. Once you called me a coward but I guess it’s just you ... you’re the coward." I don't wait for your words. I turn away, the heavy sound of my boots thudding against the floor as I pull up my knee pads. I march toward the heavy black curtain, the roar of the crowd beginning to bleed through the fabric, signaling that it’s time to capitalize the mess I’ve made.

Hana_Jeong: Your words hit me harder than any strike I’ve taken in the ring. I stay frozen for a second with both hands against my head, trying to process everything while tears already blur my vision. “Lauren… please wait…” My voice breaks embarrassingly. You keep marching toward the curtain without slowing down. I quickly wipe my eyes with both wrists and force myself to breathe before running after you through the backstage area. Crew members and wrestlers immediately look toward us, sensing the tension. The last thing I want is for everyone to see us falling apart. So when I finally catch up to you, I force myself to stand beside you despite my trembling breathing. I straighten my posture, trying desperately to stop crying before we walk out in front of the crowd together. Even hurt, even confused, I still move to your side like your partner. Like your best friend.

Lauren_James: I don’t look at you. I don't acknowledge the way your breathing trembles, or the fact that you’re standing right beside me despite how badly I just cut you down. When the gorilla position staff girl steps up to give me the cue, I deliberately turn my back on you to talk to her, treating you like a ghost. Seeing you hurt like this gives me a twisted sense of satisfaction; I want you to feel the full weight of the guilt, to swallow it whole. Even with the dark cloud of reality hovering over me knowing that my chances against Sara are little the thrill of the cruelty carries me. Suddenly, the heavy bass of Iggy Azalea’s "Fancy" explodes through the speakers, shattering the backstage tension and echoing through the Hammerstein Ballroom. The curtain parts, and I step out into the blinding lights. I strut down the ramp, my posture stiff and elite. As the fans lean over the barricades, screaming and reaching out, I visibly shrink away, pulling my arms inward with a look of pure disgust on my face, acting as if their very touch would contaminate me. A sharp, arrogant laugh cuts through my expression as I look down my nose at the crowd. "Yes, watch but don't touch... the Real Deal is here!" I mock, leaning into the persona of the untouchable, spoiled heiress. Reaching the apron, I slide gracefully under the bottom rope and immediately pace the ring, soaking in the heat. I completely ignore your entrance behind me, keeping my eyes locked on the curtain, waiting for the bitch who started all of this to show her face.

Hana_Jeong: (I quietly remain at ringside near the barricade, my arms folded tightly against myself. The fans keep reaching toward me. “Hana! Hana!” Normally I would smile at them or slap their hands. Tonight I can’t. I keep my eyes lowered toward the mat, standing silently at Lauren’s side despite the knot tightening painfully in my chest.)

:

Sara_León: The curtain opens and I cross through it with a serious expression, my features tense and the veins in my neck already swollen, before stepping onto the stage. My music plays, clearly of Spanish origin, and I explicitly ask for the colors accompanying me to be red and yellow. I walk firmly toward the ring, my gaze locked on you. I blindly extend my hands to both sides, high-fiving a few fans, but I don't have time for recreation. I've tried to be patient, avoid confrontation, avoid the ring. But now that I have you up there... My blood boils from pure excitement and anticipation. Not only are you a bad person and a manipulator and not only are you poisoning the mind and heart of my best friend, but you've come directly to hurt me just to push me away from her. You wanted the ring? Here I am. I grab the middle rope and jump onto the edge of the ring, sliding between the ropes while the announcer keeps speaking. I approach you quickly, and before the bell rings I try to throw the first punch at your jaw, generating a wave of surprise among the crowd while the referee throws his hands to his head and frantically calls for the bell to ring

Lauren_James: As you slide into the ring, I don't even let the announcer finish. I strut toward the center, a smug, venomous smirk plastered across my face, desperate to humiliate you before a single hold is locked in. "Oh look, the mariachi band is here!" I mock loudly over the noise of the crowd, rolling my eyes and waving a dismissive hand at your red and yellow lights. "We don't want to eat tacos, so go back to your hole" I'm so busy laughing at my own casual disrespect, so entirely consumed by my own arrogance, that I never see it coming.. Your fist connects cleanly with the side of my face. The sheer force of the jab echoes through the ring, snapping my head back violently. The smug smile is wiped from my face in a fraction of a second. My legs turn to jelly and I stumble backward, crashing hard against the ring ropes. I cling to the top rope for dear life, my left hand instantly flying up to cup my throbbing jaw. My eyes are wide with a mixture of shock and sudden, burning pain. The crowd erupts into a deafening wave of gasps and cheers as the referee frantically signals for the bell to officially start the match, leaving me completely blindsided.

Sara_León: The punch connects so perfectly and at such a good moment that a surge of adrenaline shakes my body in pure satisfaction. Seeing you stumble backward with that look of sudden surprise and fear on your face gives me an inexplicable happiness. And this has only just begun. The bell rings while I keep approaching you, bringing my hands to your blonde hair and pulling your head until I make you turn around, pressing your cheek against the top rope and forcing you to look directly at Hana at ringside. I begin pulling your hair while pressing your face downward, rubbing your cheek against the rope and dragging it all the way across until reaching a corner, where I pull your face back a few inches before trying to slam it forward again, aiming to ~crush~ your face against the top turnbuckle!

Lauren_James: The pain in my jaw is still whiten hot when your hands lock into my hair. I let out a sharp, undignified shriek as you violently yank my head back, completely erasing any lingering illusion that I'm in control of this match. You drag me across the ring like a ragdoll, forcing me down until my cheek is scraped ruthlessly against the rough, unforgiving texture of the top rope. The friction burns my skin, but the mental humiliation is worse you force my face right in the direction of Hana, who is standing helplessly at ringside. Through a blurred, panicked vision, I can see her wide, horrified eyes looking up at me. "Hana! " I try to scream, but the word is choked out as you drag me all the way to the corner. My grip on the ropes slips. I feel my head being hauled back a few inches, and panic turns into absolute terror. You slam me forward with everything you've got.. My face connects violently with the hard turnbuckle pad. The impact rattles my teeth and sends a sickening jar down my spine. I collapse into the corner, slumping against the turnbuckles, my hands instinctively flying up to cover my nose and forehead as I groan in agony, completely at your mercy.

Sara_León: I grit my teeth watching you collapse against the turnbuckles. My hands tremble with pure rage, and the energy overflows through every part of me. I throw a quick, almost ashamed glance at Hana before grabbing your hair again, yanking it backward and throwing it forward once more, aiming to smash your face against the turnbuckle again, but this time without letting go of your hair. Taking advantage of the rebound from the impact, I hurl your head forward again, crushing it once more. And then again, and again, and again. In a spiral of brutal violence, I let out a roar of release while using your hair to relentlessly slam your face against the turnbuckles, making the ring shake and temporarily losing my own judgment, forgetting that I'm in a professional wrestling match and only seeking to punish you and hurt you

Lauren_James: A sickening groan of pure agony tears from my throat with every brutal impact. I completely lose my footing, my legs turning to water as the relentless assault rattles my skull. I can't even raise my hands to protect myself anymore; my body is just reacting to the sheer violence of your rage. As you keep hammering my face into the turnbuckle, my knees buckle completely. I collapse downward, my body sinking toward the canvas, but I can't even fall to the floor because your grip on my hair is the only thing keeping me upright. I’m left hanging there on my knees, completely broken and defenceless, suspended by the roots of my hair. A pitiful whimpering sound escapes my lips, my eyes rolled back in shock as the ring shakes beneath us, completely at the mercy of your unhinged fury.

Sara_León: The referee finally yells at me to stop, and I let you go, allowing you to collapse peacefully against the turnbuckles, noticing that I'm panting and beginning to sweat. I take two seconds to catch my breath, bringing my hands to my hips and regulating my breathing, before approaching you again. I wrap my arms around your waist and clasp my wrists at the height of your stomach, bending my knees and beginning to pull you while stepping backward. As soon as I have enough space, I give a powerful upward yank with my arms, throwing myself backward and trying to launch you over me onto the canvas with a German Suplex!

Lauren_James: I slump heavily against the corner, my cheek pressed against the rough, sweat-soaked padding of the middle turnbuckle. My vision is swimming in a chaotic blur of black and gold, and my head feels like it’s been split open. I’m barely conscious, just gasping for air, when your arms suddenly coil around my waist like a vice. I don't have the strength to fight back. As you step backward and bridge your back, I’m launched into the air. "AHHH!" The scream tears from my throat as I’m suspended for a terrifying split second, completely weightless, before the world flips upside down. BAAAAAANM. My upper back and the my neck slam into the mat with a sickening, jarring thud. The impact knocks every ounce of air from my lungs, sending a jolt of white hot electricity shooting down my spine. I don't move I can't. I lay there on the mat, curled in an awkward, broken heap, my body twitching as I fight to find a breath that won't come, completely dazed and at the mercy of the lights above.

Sara_León: I jump to my feet, turning around and seeing you curled up on the canvas. I lick my lips unable to suppress a smile and pound my chest, addressing the crowd: "NOBODY MOCKS ME WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES!! NOBODY!!" while I approach you. I grab your hair and yank it carelessly with both hands, shaking your head until I force you to your feet. I lean down slightly and grab one of your wrists, passing it over the back of my neck while sliding one arm between your legs, placing you in a Fireman's Carry position, leaving you lying horizontally across my shoulders, one hand gripping your head from behind and the other fixed on one of your thighs. I walk around the ring with you over my shoulders, making a display of strength and humiliation. I stop in front of Hana, looking her in the eyes, and say coldly: "You should have stopped her" before heading to the center of the ring and pulling your waist upward, making you pass over my head while rotating you through the air and dropping one knee to the canvas, leaving the other exposed and aiming to destroy your spine against it in a brutal backbreaker

Lauren_James: The world is spinning in a sickening, distorted loop, and my vision is nothing but flashes of light and darkness. I’m barely tethered to reality when your hands dig into my hair again. The agonizing pull forces my neck to snap back, and I’m dragged upward, my knees scraping and slipping against the canvas until I’m dangling helplessly, held up only by the strength of your grip. "Please..." I manage a weak, breathless wheeze, but my voice is drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Before I can even fully process standing, you’re moving. You scoop me up, your shoulder driving hard into my stomach, and I’m suddenly horizontal draped over you like a sack of grain. I’m dazed, my hair hanging toward the floor, my arm pinned tightly against your neck. The humiliation of being paraded around the ring like a trophy stings worse than the physical pain. Through the blur, I see Hana’s face as you stop in front of her. The coldness in your voice as you tell her she should have stopped me sends a fresh wave of panic through me, but I’m too incapacitated to fight. Then, you’re moving to the center of the ring. You heave my waist upward, and for a terrifying second, I’m airborne again, spinning through the rafters. My eyes widen in raw, primal fear as I realize where I’m headed. I don't even have time to scream. The impact of my lower spine crashing against your exposed knee is instantaneous and blinding. A jagged, searing bolt of agony erupts from my back, radiating through my entire nervous system. I let out a choked, desperate gasp, my body convulsing as I crumple to the mat, unable to feel my legs, completely broken by the force of the blow.

Sara_León: I finally remain kneeling beside you, panting. I brush the sweaty hair away from my forehead and lean over you, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and forcing you to look at me, while I speak to you with my jaw clenched from pure hatred: "I couldn't care less what a spoiled rich manipulative cruel rude racist bitch like you does with her life. And I know I can't do anything to separate your poisonous tongue from my best friend, at least for now. But let tonight serve as a reminder that you are worthless. That you don't belong in this world. And that the day you realize it, it will be too late. And you'll leave alone, humiliated and ashamed." Having said that, I stand up, grabbing your wrist and pulling it, leaving you kneeling in front of me. Without letting go of your arm, knowing you would lose your balance, I throw a brutal kick to your chest. Then another, and then a third

Lauren_James: The agony radiating from my spine is so intense that my vision is already starting to tunnel, but your grip on my jaw forces me to lock eyes with you. I can feel the heat of your hatred radiating off you, a physical weight that threatens to crush me more than the backbreaker just did. My lungs are burning, and every ragged breath I take is a struggle, but I’m too paralyzed by the shock and the pain to even try to fight back. When you haul me up by the wrist, my body feels like lead. I’m a wreck, my muscles twitching uncontrollably as you drag me into a kneeling position. I’m completely at your mercy, my head lolling forward, too weak to even keep it upright. The first kick slams into my chest with the force of a wrecking ball. Oof! The air is driven out of my lungs in a sharp, painful hiss, and I’m sent reeling, but your grip on my wrist acts as an anchor, snapping me back into place for the second blow. The second boot connects against my ribs, and I can hear the sharp, sickening pop of cartilage. I’m helpless, my body curling inward, my eyes welling with tears I can’t stop. I try to gasp for air, to beg for it to stop, but before I can find my voice, the third kick lands squarely against my sternum. I’m sent sprawling across the canvas, boneless and broken, the lights of the Hammerstein Ballroom swirling above me. I collapse into a heap, my chest heaving as I fight for consciousness, every part of me screaming in protest as I lay there, utterly humiliated and physically shattered.

Sara_León: I approach you with slow steps, until I press the sole of my boot against your cheek, crushing your head against the canvas and crouching slightly. "Aww Miss James... The poor rich girl has no strength left? You can't go on anymore, darling? Do you want me to bring you a cup of tea so you can recover? I could pin you right now and we both know you wouldn't get up..." Having said that, I grab one of your wrists and violently yank your body to one side until I leave you face down. I crouch completely down until I wrap my arms around your waist, grabbing you from behind and pressing my chest and my cheek against your back. I pull with my arms until I lift you up in a display of strength, and I begin walking with you toward the corner, where I slide one hand under your thigh and lift you off the canvas with a grunt until I leave you sitting on the top turnbuckle, facing out of the ring. I take two seconds to catch my breath, pressing my shoulder against your back so you don't fall, before beginning to climb the ropes behind you

Lauren_James: "RRgggggh... Fuck you, bitch!" My face is pressed hard into the cold, abrasive canvas, the sole of your boot digging into my cheek and grinding my head into the mat. Every nerve ending in my body is screaming, and the sheer weight of your contempt is harder to bear than the physical punishment. When you taunt me about the tea, a spark of my remaining fire flares up, however weak and pathetic it might be. I grit my teeth, my breath coming in ragged, painful hitches as you yank my body face-down and hoist me up like a ragdoll. The humiliation of being manhandled this way being sat up on the top turnbuckle like a broken toy is agonizing, but my pride refuses to die. I feel your shoulder press against my back, pinning me to the corner as you begin to climb behind me. I’m dangling precariously, trying to reassure myself that i will turn Hana against you

Sara_León: I plant my boots on the middle ropes, handling your weak body with my hands and stabilizing myself. I then wrap my arms around your waist, gripping my forearms with my hands, squeezing your diaphragm and pressing my entire body against your back. The crowd begins to rise, starting to scream, some in panic, others in excitement. I cast a quick glance at Hana. Serious, determined, resolute. Lauren's disrespect ends at this moment. She wanted to involve me? This is what I have to say. I give a powerful upward yank with my arms, making your ass and your boots lose contact with the ropes, while with my legs I dangerously propel my whole body backward, brutally catapulting you on your back over me toward the center of the canvas in an Avalanche German Suplex!

Lauren_James: As I feel your arms lock around my waist and my feet lose contact with the turnbuckle, the reality of what’s coming hits me with terrifying clarity. I can feel the ropes digging into my thighs for a split second before I’m yanked upward into the air. "Hana! Haaaaaana!" My desperate, shrill scream cuts through the electrified roar of the Hammerstein Ballroom as you launch us backward. I’m completely airborne, inverted, and helpless. The world flips in a dizzying blur, and before I can even tuck my chin, I slam violently into the mat. The impact is catastrophic. My upper back takes the brunt of the force, the wind is sucked out of my lungs, and my body flips awkwardly, folding like a broken doll until I land face-first. I’m splayed out on my stomach, the air rushing out of me in a strangled gasp. My nervous system is in total shock; I can’t move my limbs, and I begin to uncontrollably twitch against the canvas. A thin trail of drool escapes my lips, mingling with the sweat and the dust of the ring as the lights above me start to fade into darkness. I’m completely gone.

Hana_Jeong: (My eyes widen in horror the moment I see Sara throw her across the ring. The scream dies in my throat. I watch her body folding violently against the mat, hear the awful sound of the impact, and for a second the entire Hammerstein Ballroom feels distant and muffled around me. The way she screamed my name... My breathing becomes shaky as I stare at her twitching helplessly on the canvas, her blonde hair covering part of her face while drool slowly runs from your lips onto the mat. My roommate. The girl who slept beside me in my small Brooklyn loft. The girl who acted loud and impossible and selfish… but who had slowly become part of my world. And now she looks like discarded trash in the middle of the ring. I look back at Sara with tearful eyes, almost pleading silently for this to stop )

 

Sara_León: The impact is brutal, even for me. The entire ring shakes and my back aches from it. I slowly get to my feet with a grimace and one hand on my back, gritting my teeth and slowly turning around to see my work. You lie in the center of the ring, convulsing and completely destroyed. I slowly crawl toward your body, knowing I couldn't lift you again even if I wanted to. I push you onto your back as if you were an inanimate object, with deliberate and conscious contempt. I hook one of your legs with one arm and trap the other with my legs, and I lay over you until I press your cheek with my forearm, our faces extremely close, feeling your breathing and your heartbeat, the source of your convulsions, the sweat sliding over your skin, and twisting a sadistic smile while the referee drops beside us and begins the count: "ONE!!...."

Lauren_James: I am a hollowed-out wreck beneath you, my body reduced to a series of involuntary spasms. The canvas feels cold against my skin, but I’m too far gone to register anything beyond the suffocating weight of you pressing down on me. My lungs are screaming, my chest heaving in jagged, desperate gulps of air that refuse to provide any relief, while foam begins to bubble at the corners of my lips, trailing down my chin as my jaw hangs slack. I can hear the referee’s voice booming in the distance, but it feels like it’s coming from another dimension. “ONE! TWO! THREE!” Each number is a meaningless echo. I’m completely devastated, my consciousness flickering like a dying bulb; even if he counted to a thousand, my limbs are unresponsive, anchored to the mat by sheer, crushing trauma. I don't have the strength to twitch a finger, let alone kick out. Finally, the sharp, final slap of the referee’s hand hits the mat, signaling the end. The bell rings. The match is over, and I am utterly, irrevocably broken.

Sara_León: I let go of your leg, letting it fall lifelessly when the bell rings, and I sit up leaning on your sweat-soaked stomach. I swallow hard and try to steady my breathing while the referee helps me to my feet, raising my arm, and the announcer proclaims my victory over the heiress. The referee then leaves the ring and I remain there, in the center, staring at your broken and defeated body. Humiliated. And all your poisonous words come to my mind. Not only your insults and your contempt. Also your lies, your manipulation. What you did to Brooke. What you're doing to Hana. And I can't stand it. I truly don't want to stand it. The fact that you've suffered one single defeat doesn't mean someone has finally put you in your place once and for all. That someone has punished you for everything you've done. That you've learned that, here, actions have consequences. So I throw myself over your broken body, pulling you up by the hair while I sit behind you and pass my left arm over yours, quickly trapping it behind your back in a mechanical movement. I pass my right arm over your throat while crushing your left arm against your back and my chest, beginning to try to bring my hands together near your left shoulder, debuting my most feared submission in N.E.W., applying my crossface chickenwing to you just to hurt you

Lauren_James: I am dead weight on the canvas, my limbs splayed out in a pathetic display of total surrender. The bell’s chime still ringing in my ears is drowned out by the sudden, sharp shock of being yanked upright again. My neck snaps back as you haul me up by my hair, and before I can even process that the match is already over, I’m being folded into the suffocating, agonizing vice of your hold. The pressure of your arm against my throat and the brutal, mechanical torsion you apply to my shoulder joint is pure, blinding fire. My shoulder feels like it’s being wrenched clean out of its socket, and the lack of oxygen turns my vision into a fractured kaleidoscope of pain. The realization that you aren't stopping that you intend to break me completely here in the center of the ring sends a spike of raw, unadulterated terror through my chest. I jerk wildly, my body convulsing in the grip of the submission as I reach out toward the ropes with my free hand, my fingers clawing uselessly at the air. "HANA! SHE'S GONNA KILL ME!" I shriek, the sound tearing out of my throat in a jagged, desperate rasp. My voice cracks under the strain, high and terrified. "AAAAH! FUCK! HELP!"

Hana_Jeong: I stand at ringside, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch you thrashing in that hold. I know exactly how much pain you’re in: I’ve been on the receiving end of that same move before, and ended up in a surgery room. "Do something, Hana". The fear of Sara is paralyzing, but seeing you like this breaks through the shock. I can't just stand here and watch her break you. I slide under the bottom rope and scramble across the canvas, my voice shaking but firm. I try to force you letting her go. "Let her go, Sara!" I shout, standing a few feet away from her, my hands raised. "You won the match! She's done! let her go!"

 

Sara_León: I tighten my right arm around your throat when you scream desperately for help, lying and manipulating once again, trying to stop you from articulating a single word more. Then I see Hana climb into the ring. The people boo. I no longer know if it's for her or for me. I remain silent for a second, teeth clenched and trying to keep you still despite how much you thrash around. Both of us writhe across the canvas while Hana remains standing. I speak to her in an icy tone: "Are you serious, Hana? Do I have to remind you what you did to Brooke? Lauren deserves compassion but Brooke doesn't? Is that it?" Having said that, I let myself fall backward, wrapping my legs around your waist, fully locking in the hold and tightening my hands over your shoulder, beginning to agonizingly wrench your shoulder and your cervical spine, squeezing like a python filled with fury

Hana_Jeong: I freeze, paralyzed by your words. The memory of what happened with Brooke hits me like a physical blow, and the guilt chokes the air out of my lungs. I know you're right. I'm being a hypocrite but I can’t watch you do this to Lauren. I shake off the hesitation, forcing myself to step forward. I don't give you another choice. I reach down and grab Lauren’s limp, unresponsive arm, yanking her body away from you with a careless, frustrated force. Her limbs are heavy and lifeless, just a broken, twitching mess that barely registers my touch as I drag her toward the ropes. I stand over you, my posture stiff, my face devoid of the warmth I usually show. My voice is devoid of emotion, hard and cold. "I told you to let her go."

Lauren_James: The force of your pull is too much for my broken frame. I’m hurled across the mat, sliding across the slick canvas before I collide with the ring apron. My body flops over the edge like a discarded piece of trash, my chest hitting the hard wood of the ring structure. I’m barely hanging on, my entire body screaming as I sag against the ropes, feeling like I’m inches away from tumbling onto the arena floor. Through the haze of pain, my vision tunnels. I blink rapidly, trying to clear the sweat and the ringing in my ears, and I see you both standing in the center of the ring. Even from where I’m slumped, I can feel the sheer gravity of the tension between you. Hana is standing tall, her usual soft demeanor replaced by something sharp and defensive, while you’re standing there, chest heaving, looking at her as if she’s the next obstacle you need to tear down. I try to pull myself up, but my shoulder screams in protest, and I just remain there, hoping that Hana will strike you.

Sara_León: An unexpected pull makes Lauren's body slip out from between my arms. I'm forced to let her go while I watch you take her away and stand between her and me. You clearly look different. I remain sitting on the canvas for a moment, my hands resting behind me, looking at you seriously. Examining you. And then, I smile. "Alright..." I murmur, slowly getting to my feet, feeling cold over the sweat on my skin, my breathing still ragged. A complete contrast with your clean body, your cold expression and your firm words. I approach you, looking from side to side toward the crowd, rubbing my nose, before stopping close enough for you to hear me. I speak with ease and confidence, without hatred or resentment, but with determination. "Listen, Hana..." I begin to tell you, finally looking you in the eyes. "I don't want to face you again. And I won't do it. If this is the path you want to walk, if this..." I say, pointing at Lauren, "...is the company you want to keep... I respect it. But don't count on me. When that bitch betrays you... Because she will... I'll be waiting for you. Because we're sisters. And I'll never reject you again when you need me. Until that moment, however.... Good luck." After finishing speaking, I begin taking steps backward, indicating that I have nothing more to say. And hoping you don't either, but giving you the opportunity to do or say whatever you want

Hana_Jeong: The air in the arena feels heavy, thin, and suffocating. As you begin to back away, the cold logic of your words cuts deeper than the physical pain of the match ever could. You’ve laid everything out: the betrayal, the history, our sisterhood and left me with nothing to fight with. The fire I felt just a moment ago, the sudden protective instinct, dies out, replaced by a crushing wave of inadequacy. I feel small, like a child caught between two forces I don't fully understand. "Sara... wait..." My voice is thin, trembling with the weight of a hundred things I don't know how to articulate. I see the look in your eyes, the way you read the absolute devastation written on my face. There is so much regret there, so much sadness that I’ve allowed things to reach this breaking point. I open my mouth to argue, to try to pull you back, but the words fail me. My resolve crumbles. "I just... can't..." I can’t finish the thought. I can't choose between the two of you, because... if I have to do it... I will always choose you, Sara. Defeated by your calm, I turn my back on you, my shoulders slumping. I move toward the edge of the ring, my movements sluggish and heavy. I reach down, trying to find a grip on Lauren’s limp, broken frame to pull her to safety, my hands shaking as I try to assess how much damage has truly been done. (END)

END