Fire in Her Eyes / Ice in Her Smile: Part 1 of original text
Dec 10, 2023 4:39:18 GMT -6
FN'R and Chunks of Darna Dare like this
Post by Dalilah Ashe on Dec 10, 2023 4:39:18 GMT -6
Okay, so I started writing my promo for Wrestlefest before the official word limits were released. I figured I would have more than 750 words to play with so it turned out to be much longer than my final submission. But I didn't want to waste it, so I put it here for context. Please enjoy.
He followed her out of the Bottom’s Up night club onto West Chippewa Street like a hungry puppy who thought he was about to eat. On the corner she let him stand close for warmth as they awaited their Uber in the chilly night air. Once in the car he moved in for a kiss, while discretely trying to cop a feel of her upper thigh. Dalilah laughed playfully, turning her face away so that he nuzzled her neck instead.
At the hotel he got a little pushy when they were alone in the elevator. But she was well schooled in the art of directing a man’s desires, so she managed to maintain control of their interaction all the way up to the room. She could sense that his patience had diminished as his level of excitement increased.
Having already assumed consent he immediately started to assert some perceived privilege once the hotel room door slammed shut. Dalilah registered his frustration when she danced away from his eager embrace. Closing the distance between them, he pulled her into a hard kiss and tried to put his hand up the front of her shirt.
Dalilah pushed him away to his obvious displeasure.
“Dammit. What the hell? I came up here with you AND I paid for your Uber. So are we gonna do this or what?”
Dalilah gave him a haunting smile that only increased his agitation.
“Just let me get set up first.” she said, moving towards the dresser.
He looked confused beyond his level of intoxication.
“Set up? For what?”
Dalilah pulled a digital camera out of the top drawer of the dresser and pointed it in his direction.
“I need your help to film a video.”
It took a moment for him to process her request.
“A video? What, like an OnlyFans thing?”
He grinned as the idea finally found purchase in his sluggish lizard brain.
“Hell yeah, I knew you were gonna be a freak!”
Dalilah’s grin went ice cold.
“You have no idea.”
Turning her back on him she started to set up the camera on a tripod. Behind her the guy got over eager. Taking off his shirt he came up from behind and aggressively pressed his full weight up against her back. This was exactly the move that she had been waiting for.
#####
“Turn it off.” Lacey demanded.
Across the room Bedlam fumbled with the remote. He was clearly disturbed by what he’d just witnessed. Dalilah sat cross-legged in one of the suite’s over-sized armchairs. She chewed at the chipped purple polish on her thumb nail as she waited for her manager to speak. Finally she decided to break the silence herself.
“Well, what do you think?”
Lacey looked at her in complete disbelief.
“Have you completely lost your mind? Did you really believe, for even a second, that a company like the EWC would allow you to air that as a promo for one of their biggest events of the year?”
Dalilah looked confused and more than a little disappointed.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Lacey was still convinced that this was all just a product of her client’s sick sense of humor.
“Well, Lilah… Darling… For starters, it’s a twenty minute video of you beating the holy shit out of a half-naked man, one whom you presumably seduced and lured back to your hotel room for the purpose of filming a wrestling promo.
Now, the felonious nature of this assault aside, I’m sure the EWC wouldn’t want the world to know that this was done by one of their up and coming talents in a hotel room THAT THEY PAID FOR!”
Dalilah flinched at the elevation in volume.
“I was only playing with him. I told him I needed his help for the video. I wanted to show how some people think they deserve something that they haven’t earned, like how Callie thinks she deserves the Indy Title. It was meant to be a metephor."
If this was some kind of sick joke, Lacey wasn’t laughing.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you Dalilah? It was bad enough that you decided to burn down that ridiculously expensive house that we were renting in Chicago. But now you thought it was a good idea to nearly cripple some stranger because he thought he was going to get lucky with you?
And you did it all for what, ARTISTIC PURPOSES! It took all of the connections I had with some top notch lawyers and a few of Sinestro’s connections in the criminal world to keep your little escapades a secret. If it weren’t for our best efforts you wouldn’t be wrestling Callie Clark for the Indy Title.”
Lacey stood up, leaning forward so that Dalilah would understand the gravity of her words.
“If it weren’t for us they would’ve locked your little ass up for arson and assault. You’d be sitting in a prison cell or an insane asylum instead of wrestling in the Main Event at Night 1 of Wrestlefest.”
Getting out of her chair Dalilah walked slowly over to Lacey with a complete look of contrition. She awkwardly wrapped her arms around her manager, who stiffly accepted the embrace with a nervous shudder.
“I’m sorry.” Dalilah said, like a sad little girl apologizing to her mother for breaking a plate.
“I’ll try to be better.”
Lacey gently pushed her client away.
“Just try to keep the insanity in the ring where it belongs.”
Dalilah grinned with a very disconcerting glint behind her eyes.
“I will. I promise. I'll start on Friday.”
