Fight Grid
(Fight Grid intro plays.)
[SCREENBAR: POST-SUNDAY NIGHT VOLTAGE – 9/29/2024]
(For what it’s worth, Sunday Night Voltage went very well for one Michael Machina this week. As he walked backstage, he relished the memory of giving EAW World Champion Jake Smith a ‘Bullet From Hell’ into the steel steps, costing him his match against Methuselah. Fresh on his mind, he considered it breaking even after the stunt the former Captain tried to pull on him and his lover-in-denial Bea Valentine. Machina, personally, didn’t take very kindly to the words spoken out of the mouth of the Hall of Famer toward Bea and was quick to go to bat for her at the moment, but keen on continuing to try and cooperate with him despite that. But when the idea was pitched to finally turn their back on him when they needed him the most, they considered it a moment of poetic justice coming toward Jake Smith that weekend. It’s safe to say even in defeat, he was still quite happy with himself. But right now, beyond his ambitions, he had his focus on something else. That was to check in on his precious Phoebe who, judging by the events that occurred tonight, was not in the best shape.)
(As he approached the door to the locker room which he found himself entering and leaving one too many times this Season, the imposing figure who struck fear throughout the Voltage roster gave a gentle knock. After some time, the door creaked open, and he was greeted by the usual congregation of people that Phoebe had by her side.)
Michael Machina: Cornelius, Ashlynn, good to see you. Everything alright in here?
(There’s a momentary pause, with Cornelius tugging at his collar and Ashlynn whistling as she looked around the area. As he raised his eyebrow, Machina waved his hand at both of them.)
Michael Machina: Hello…?
Cornelius: Oh! My apologies, Mr. Machina. It’s just that we’re in the middle of a very… tense… situation right now involving Miss Valentine, I do hope you understand.
Michael Machina: I assumed so, that’s why I’m here. You gonna let me in?
(Ashlynn and Cornelius gave a look of uneasiness to each other, but they both knew that if one person was going to fix this, it would be him. After some time, Cornelius sighed.)
Cornelius: Of course. Though I will warn you, what you’re going to see is not for the faint of heart.
Michael Machina: That’s what I signed up for.
(Cornelius and Ashlynn stepped to the side and allowed Machina to let himself in. There, as he stepped foot inside, the feed would transition to a monochromatic black and white. He started coughing as he waved away large fumes of smoke, with the culprit having her back pressed firmly against a corner in the locker room, slumped down looking near unconscious. Bea Valentine was completely bent out of shape, disheveled with frizzled hair, it looked like she hadn’t washed herself in ages. In her hands was a cigarette she took a hit of it, and along with that, she would exchanged it for a gallon of milk, which she would then take a big gulp of right after. Machina takes a moment to digest the situation at the moment, before shaking his head as he clears his throat, hoping to get her attention.)
Bea Valentine: Oh… m- mon… D- Dieu…
Michael Machina: Phoebe, seriously?
Bea Valentine: Can you blame me, Mikey???
(Bea slammed the milk jug to the ground next to her, with it splashing everywhere before she tossed her cigarette away. She banged the back of her head against the wall behind her which made even Machina wince in fear before she continued on.)
Bea Valentine: I’ve hit rock bottom! Once a star, but my moment has come and gone. In theatre, success doesn’t happen overnight. It comes after continuously stealing the show every single time that you’re on stage. But you can only do that for so long, the sustainability in my field of work is very slim, and only comes to the elite. Alas, I am afraid I am not the elite. My life, my CAREER, IT’S OVER! I’ve peaked. I’m done. I can’t even beat Solomon Stane now.
(Bea sighed as she took another hit of the cigarette which she quickly scooped off the ground.)
Bea Valentine: There is no hope.
Michael Machina: Yes there is.
(Machina made his way over to her, as he crouched down to get on her level. Even as she was broken, in the worst shape of her career, he was still by her side. It’s like he said, it’s what he signed up for. Even after everything that happened, there was one constant, and that was that he was never going to leave her, especially not in this state.)
Michael Machina: There is… but you have to get your shit together. Look, I’ll help you. I’ll pull you off your feet, we can work together, train together, whatever. But this shit has to stop.
(Machina reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, and that comforting feeling immediately lowered her guard as her body relaxed. Her breathing slowed as Machina continued to have a stern expression as he continued.)
Michael Machina: Stop wallowing. Make the fucking changes.
Bea Valentine: Oh what’s the point, Mikey! It’s the same song and dance as always! You’re having the time of your life while I’m here, it’s clear that no matter how much you try and console me, you’ll always be the star. You’ve taken my spotlight!
Michael Machina: That is in no way true, and you’re going to have to get off your ass and accept that you’re so much more than what you make yourself out to be. Especially considering you have to team with Cam next week-
(Immediately, Bea gave a pained cry as she heard that. She buried her hands in her face as she continued to bang her head against the wall.)
Bea Valentine: What’s the point in that either?! I bring NOTHING to the table! I’m deadweight compared to the likes of her! We’re going to get eaten alive, and it’s all my FAULT!
Michael Machina: Look, this place is full of opportunity, and you’ll do great with her against British Invasion. I’ve got my own thing with Methuselah going on, but I’m sure we can find something we can do together.
Bea Valentine: Really?
Michael Machina: Really.
(Machina took both her hands and pulled her up to her feet, with Bea having no sort of pushback at the gesture at all. He rubbed his thumb against her hand as he continued.)
Michael Machina: I got you, but you have to trust me and let go of these… theatrics. Trust your talent. You’re capable of great things…
(Machina would then lean his head forward, with Bea looking up at him while he did.)
Michael Machina: And I’m going to make sure they happen for you.
(Then, in a gesture that not even Bea expected, Machina would kiss her on the forehead. He then squeezed her hand before he let go.)
Michael Machina: I’ll call you later.
(He would then turn around as he made his way out of the scene, and standing at the center of the room alone was a despondent Bea Valentine, who didn’t know what to make of the situation as she tried to gather her feelings, emotionally affected with how things went. It’s the last shot seen as, from there, the camera would fade out.)
(Fight Grid logo buzzes.)
