"I'll Follow You Down"

It had to seem weird for Calvin Harris to be requested by his girlfriend in Alessandra Reynolds to take her daughter, Vanellope, for the afternoon. It had be even weirder that she would make a request that, on their route to Louisiana that the two take a detour of sorts to Boston, Massachusetts clear on the other side of the country. But, if she was going to do this... if she was going to don the Nova Wonder bravado again, there were certain things that must be attended to, first. Glancing from side to side in the graveyard, she clutched at her tattooed arm beneath her black, skull-print shawl. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. And the instructions she'd been issued by Saylor Laine had not been very helpful.

A few days ago...

SAYLOR LAINE: It's such a sweet gesture that you would want to pay your final respects to Nick.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: Well, I didn't exactly get to say goodbye to him, Say. I wasn't invited to the funeral.

There was an audible sigh on the other end of the phone. Saylor took a moment to collect herself, and steady her shaking voice. Losing her ex-husband, even if things weren't exactly picture-perfect like they used to be towards the end, hadn't been easy for her. She was raising her daughter Alanna alone and seeking her own sense of closure. The fact that it was so unexpected and untimely had taken her by surprise just as much as everyone else.

SAYLOR LAINE: The accident left Nick's body mangled, practically beyond recognition. It was so bad, that the funeral director insisted that the casket had to be closed. We had a small, private ceremony to say goodbye to him. I didn't want you to see him like that, Nova. I didn't want your beautiful little girl to see him like that. I didn't want anyone to see him like that. Not that many people wanted to...

Even in her pain and heartache, she still did her best to try and keep their rapport up, by calling her "Nova," much like she always had. Even though Zack Lifer, or as he is known amongst Nova and Saylor as Nick, called her "Alessa"... she'd always been closer to Zack. His final few months had been difficult. But, given the circumstances, as much as Alessandra wanted to be angry at Saylor for keeping the ceremony limited to herself and the workers of the morgue, she had to be understanding. Even if it wasn't in her nature. Now, she had to be empathetic. She could hear, and even feel the hurt in Saylor's voice regarding the less than caring regards that the announcement of her former husband's death got. Social media had sent the would-be widow incredibly nasty messages, regarding their disdain for the departed and how they were happy he died. It was enough to crush her. For anyone to show that they cared... it had to be a relief for her.

SAYLOR LAINE: Your final memories of Nick deserve to be ones of him the way that I want to remember him. Happy... healthy... the man that I loved.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: I'm sorry for coming across as so shrewish. It's just... he meant a lot to me. And I'd really like to know where he is, to make peace and get the closure I need. Please.

That word never came easy or often... but it was enough. Saylor's instructions to his marker had been written down on the closest napkin square that Nova could get her hands on, haphazard writing that was barely able to be read by even herself. This was for two reasons: the first being she was shaken. Coming to his gave meant it was official. He was gone. Death had never been something that Alessandra could handle easily. With the death of her mother sending her life spiraling into chaos and disorder, it had always been an overwhelming presence that she wanted to deny, and deny. It would officially mean that it wasn't some practical joke. He wouldn't just walk back into her home like he'd done so many times before. That was the biggest, and most difficult burden to bare. But the other reason was simply to keep anyone who may have been looking to vandalize the man's grave away. He'd been tormented so much in this life... he deserved the respect of peace in the afterlife, at least.

Alessandra's mind raced at a mile a minute, polluted and overwhelmed. But there she saw it... the grave marker, with his name etched deep into the rock.

Her eyes quickly scowered about the boneyard to spot other sites were littered with belongings for their loved ones. Flowers, crosses, rosaries and the like... while his laid bare. Dropping onto her knees next to the dirt plot, she put a hand on the smooth edge of the stone and brushed her thumb over his name.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: So... I know it's not as fancy as everyone else's, but I know you like substance over style, right? That's why we were always so close.

She spoke these words as she removed a single, fake white rose from the inner-pocket of her overthrow. Pulling her hand away from the stone, she cupped it in her lap and could only stare at those words, that name, marking his site.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: I miss you, you know. I miss you a lot. I think we could have been ninety, if time allowed, living in the same nursing home and I would have probably felt the same way then that I feel now when your time came... I can't say many good things about religion. You know that much. I can't say I know what happens or where you go when you die... but, if there's a Heaven, well, I hope that you made it there...

Transitioning from her knees and sitting flat on the ground, cross-legged, she had a feeling that he would appreciate it. It was more relaxed. More normal for her. If it had been him in front of her, as oppose to his gravesite, that would be how she would have sat. Small talk for hours about nothing would pass before either would notice. As Reynolds thought back to that time, it was enough to put a brief smile on her face... until the ambience of a gray sky with clouds rolling in overhead brought her back to life.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: This silly little piece of me just still clings onto hope this is all some kind of a joke. Something to throw off everyone who treated you like you were nothing... that one day, you'll come back like nothing happened. I'll see you again, same as always. I guess it's easier to cope that way. It's easier to move on that way. You... you got a really rough shake towards the end of it. I think part of me will hate Brytain until I'm in the ground next to you for ostracizing you the way that she did. It's... kind of funny to me, the way she likes to claim she's some kind of Death Match competitor, wants to paint herself as this omni-Christ badass for attention.... then wanted to nail you to a cross for being too rough with her in a match. Fucking attention whore... you didn't earn that. You deserved so, so much better than what you were given as your sendoff. The court of public opinion... it's not forgiving. By the time all was said and done... who knows? Death probably had to be a sweet release for you, even if you went out pretty horrifically from what I'm allowed to know. I just hope you're happy, wherever you are.

Anger, resentment, genuine sadness... all compiled and resulted in her gritting her teeth. Her eyes blinked at a feverish pace, trying to stop herself from sobbing. Drawing her knees in close to her chest, she leaned on them, giving her head a small shake from side to side as she tried to fight off the tears.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: This would normally be the part where I pull out pictures of VP. I'd show them to you, and tell you about how she is. How she's been. How we've been holding up, since you would always ask. You were the one who was consistently there when the world let me down... y-you know, I always felt like you cared more about her than her actual father did. It would never fail that I'd make the same stupid joke with you. Every single time, in fact. I'd tell you that I haven't screwed her up, and like clockwork, you would say yet.... and then I'd punch you in the shoulder, and we would laugh every time.

Alessandra's lips tighten up, the quivering a sure sign of fracture in her mask. A single tear finally rolls down her porcelain white complected cheek, and her voice gives in to break.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: I miss having you here to punch.

A small smile formed, their small jokes and playful relationship flashing back before her eyes. She draws her sleeve up to the palm of her hand, brushing at her watering eyes. A great bit of makeup comes off on her sleeve, but at this point... it's all too trivial.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: I would always tell you that if it wasn't for her, I'd be where you are right now... it's tough to be brave and strong when you've got no one. If you ever felt like that... I want you to know that I'm so, so sorry. I guess if it hadn't been for you too, that could have been a real possibility. People could always count on us to be the fuck-ups. I fucked up a lot... you know about most of 'em. I almost fucked up and didn't get to come back... maybe that story is best for another day. Point is, I always thought I'd go before you. I had reason, I had the blade, I had all of the nerve... and yet, I'm here, sitting in the dirt, telling you things I was never prepared to say to you. I know it's not your fault you're gone...

A small nod followed, as she dabbed at her waterline with her fingers again, before rubbing the blurriness out.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: But damn if I don't resent you a little bit for not being here...

She pinched at her nose briefly to keep it from running, before simply giving up, letting the stray tear roll down the apple of her cheek and beyond.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: Vanellope's father killed himself at the end of 2013. You were there for me when the kick off of 2014 was me trying to put my life back together.

His death was honestly not as difficult to deal with, as cruel as it may sound. Isaac Bongartz's entry into her life had turned it into a whirlwind where nobody could be trusted and everyone had something to hide. Add to the fact that he was suspiciously absent for most of her pregnancy had definitely left the woman who was professionally known as Nova Wonder believing she made the wrong choice in who she was going to have children with. The initial denial had set in towards losing the father of her child... but the fact was, if he was alive, and he wanted to be there for his child? He would have. If he was alive... the lack of contact with his daughter would leave him dead in Nova's books. But considering she'd gotten a healthy sum of money from his estate after his corpse was found - from an overdose of Heroin, no less - led her to believe otherwise. Her daughter, now nearly three years old, was an unexpected surprise - but definitely not one she would ever replace. Even if she had imagined her life being vastly different when he had entered it and swept her off of her feet... people just had a tendency to let her down - it was something she'd come to expect.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: Then you were there for me in 2015, when Logan died.

The death of Logan Thorn was perhaps the most horrific event she'd ever been in attendance for. Her prior home federation, ECWF, had seen what could easily be the most damaging move in wrestling - Ashe Draven's Rail Driver - drop Logan Thorn onto his skull on the steel stage that led to the ring. Logan didn't stir after that. Not many people did... but when the paramedics were rushed in to take him to the hospital, and the news broke that he had died later that evening... it had been devastating. Selective in her group of friends by nature, to lose Logan... it was like losing a limb. To lose him and Zack within a year of one another... it left her lost.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: And now you... you're gone, and it's too much...

She sniffled, raking her curly, blonde and blue hair from her face to keep it from sticking.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: Calvin's back in my life. I was seeing him before we ever met. Otherwise, you would have met him... we were pretty toxic, the first go around. You wanna' talk trainwrecks...

Wondergirl forced a small laugh... something Zack could easily have done with her. Glancing at the gray clouds overhead, she could practically see them swelling... threatening a late Spring rain.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: I'm afraid to be close to him. I'm not afraid of failing. I'm not afraid of being alone... at this point, it's what I know. It's the best adjective to describe me. But... everyone I get close to, dies. Except the assholes. I've noticed they just-so-happen to get to go on living. And then people like you are taken from me... people like you, who were there for me when I was the pariah... you were there when nobody else was... when nobody else wanted to be... you didn't let me run you away when I wanted to watch the world burn and now...

It finally comes out now, as the rain starts to drizzle down in a few small drops that form a steady downpour. This combines with the bitter tears that fall down her face. Her thoughts were jumbled into a million little pieces and she was overwhelmed by hurt and missing him. Shaken, visibly, she can barely croak out her words.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: Damn it, I need you here! You left me all alone! You left Saylor and Alanna all alone!

Openly sobbing now in the rainstorm, she clutched onto the tombstone, pulling her jacket up a bit to cover her head. This made it rise in the back, not that that was of too much importance to the devastated young lady from Seattle.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: Please... I don't know what to do...

The crashing sound of raindrops soon falters - coming to a stop as the storm passes. Through the clouds, there is a slip of sunlight that illuminates the space nearby, before the clouds pass further and engulf her in the warm beams. Rubbing her teary eyes on her arm, she removed her soaking jacket from her body - sopped through thanks to the brief but powerful rainstorm. Wringing it out onto the grass, away from his plot. A small smile came to her, as she dabbed at her eyes and now completely runny makeup with her wet garment.

ALESSANDRA REYNOLDS: You always pull through for me, don't you? I'm gonna do this thing... and it's going to be for you.

A sniffle and a small smile is the reward, as she picked up that white rose. Moving it out of the mud and onto the grass next to his plot, she picked herself up from the wet Earth. Somberly, she tied the wet overthrow jacket around her waist. Goodbye was always hard to say... it was even harder when it was permanent.

"A World of My Own"

"My name is Nova Wonder... but I'm sure you knew that." There was a certain air of cockiness to the tone of voice in which she spoke. Her signing had been big news on the outskirts of social media, drawing a great deal of fanfare and reactions. With a career that was over a decade in length as well, it was a fair assumption to make. Standing in front of the ferris wheel after hours, the lights are dim, providing a break in the vastness of the nighttime sky. Wearing a black hoodie that was half-zipped and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows on her tattooed arms, black short shorts, beat up chucks and her blonde and blue hair was pin straight and hanging over her shoulder. Her hands are in her pockets, her pale painted lips pursing outwards as she eyed those lights and listened to the barely-there hum of generic almost hits that the park used to draw in crowds while avoiding copyright laws.

NOVA WONDER: Since it was announced that I signed my name on a contract to be part of Pure Amusement Wrestling, the number one question I've probably received has been why? I'm medically cleared for the first time in nearly a year, my knee has been destroyed, rebuilt, destroyed again and rehabilitated... why would I choose PAW? Why not go back to the federation that was truly the first to allow me to cut my teeth here in the states... ECWF? Well, it's a lot more simple than you would think. First of all... I'm home here. I belong amongst the carnies and the outcasts. It's kiiiind of how I made my name, standing up and fighting for the disenfranchised and the unwanted. They're my Wonder Movement. And as far as the latter goes... they have yet to offer me twenty million dollars per appearance and the head of my enemies on a platter.

A passe' flap of the wrist was her way of excusing the topic, fluttering it away and allowing it to move on. Her hand then returned to her pocket, the oddly relaxed stance of a woman who so easily embodied the 'small dog' mentality - yappy, high energy, bite before bark - seemed to be completely at ease in the humid Louisiana night.

NOVA WONDER: When I look at PAW... initially? I'm excited. The seediness to all of it. You can't help but feel like there's something wicked lingering beneath the surface... I'm enchanted. I'm captivated. What I can see easily, however, is the opportunity at hand. Heat Stroke has my name attached to a big ol' Battle Royal... sixteen person, and the winner is going to be named the number one contender to the Titan of the Midway Championship. THAT... could be very interesting, to say the least, given my affiliation with a certain Titan of the Midway Champion.

Calvin... that would be an interesting bout should it come to that. It seemed like their names would always be intertwined in some way or another. Hard to believe that, as far as being within the confines of a professional wrestling ring went, the two had never done the dance. The fact that it could be on the horizon would make history, whether the title was in between them or not.

NOVA WONDER: But unlike the dumbass opinions of some sheeple, I didn't come all the way here to wave any fuckin' pompoms for Calvin. He doesn't NEED me to do that. I'm out here because this is my life. This is who I am. This is what I do, and I'm damn good at what I do! I don't just talk the talk. That's never been my style, and that's why I am one of, if not, the most DECORATED wrestlers in this match up! There's nobody more capable in this match than me, regardless of whether I've spent a year out of the ring or twenty years. I can, and will, still wrestle circles around each and every single person put in my path! However, I'd be remiss to say there weren't a few names on this list with skulls that I'm personally looking forward to driving my boot into. Skulls like the oddly horse-like one of Alexandra Kelly...

Her lips formed a small smile, clearly fighting off something very wicked. It's smarmy and snarky and truly very nasty, to say the least. Her hand brushes through her hair, raking it from her pretty face.

NOVA WONDER: I've waited for this day for a long time... you pandering bitch.

Wondergirl's smile falls to its true form... a nasty scowl.

NOVA WONDER: First of all... you're barely smaller than me. You walk around acting like your small size is some kind of detriment to you. Let me inform you of something... I have championship after championship and accolade after accolade to my name. Your small size isn't holding you back - the fact that you are SHIT in the ring is! You couldn't get the job done in Carnage, so you packed your bags up and headed for the hills. Is that what's going to happen here, Alexandra? What's going to be the excuse when once again, the story of your life re-writes the same chapter, entitled 'Alexandra is not good enough,' comes up in bold font? And the fact that you don't even try... you're so fuckin' enamored with yourself that you don't realize you have a problem that NEEDS to be corrected. The ship has sailed. You'll never be more than a carbon copy of a million and one other bitches in this business, but you don't... even... TRY to distinguish yourself from them. I mean, kudos to you... you picked up on a completely unhidden, revealed fact that I'm in a relationship with Calvin that even a blind person could see. You managed to weave your way through a handful of my tweets... but you didn't study me a lick, did you?

Snickering, she chuckled coldly. The appeal of Alexandra... it was clearly something that she couldn't see. Not at all blinded by her, Nova brought her nose back down and stared ahead at the camera, as if she were glaring daggers at the only other competitor in this match even close to her size as far as physical aspects go.

NOVA WONDER: I've studied you. I know you lace up those ugly ass boots that people should've stopped wearing when they were twelve and pack your bags when things don't go your way. I know you call yourself a 'pixie' to pander to children, because 'terrible-pseudo-wrestler-trollgoblin' isn't as marketable. And I know you're not a wrestler. You're not even a personality... you need to have one to be considered one, after all. You are a waste of roster space. You're a joke! And caving your skull in is going to be a personal pleasure of mine.

Wondergirl folded her arms across her chest, grinning.

NOVA WONDER: Then... we get to Johnny Sykes. My daughter is two and a half and quite possibly more sound in the head than him.

She shrugged, adjusting her hands in her pocket as a humid breeze rustled her multi-colored hair.

NOVA WONDER: I need to wonder if he thinks what he is, and what he's doing, is honestly clever or even funny. Isn't that the purpose of a practical joke? To be funny? When I look at Johnny Sykes... there's no sense of fear or dread at facing him that goes through my head. What goes through my head is that this will be the EASIEST money I have ever made when I see his name across from mine on the marquee. This man is actually, legitimately stupid. Just painfully stupid. He's immature, he's inept, and you know what? I don't overlook it as something to pity. You need to be PROACTIVE to be that ignorant. You need to ACTIVELY avoid knowledge. You need to work hard to avoid reading books, reading news articles, WATCHING news, you need to put genuine effort into being that stupid. The fact that he's even allowed to wrestle, professionally or not, is a damn disgrace to what I have dedicated my ENTIRE LIFE to being! That boy is not a champion, he is NOT... MY... CHAMPION. Not as long as there is a breath in my lungs and an ounce of fight in me, he will never use my name as a stepping stone.

The pure agitation in her face was something that couldn't be missed. For someone who was relatively as carefree as a woman who affectionately went by the nickname of "Wondergirl," there was something about Sykes' raging ignorance that she refused to find endearing. It wasn't cute. It was annoying. It made a joke of the only thing she's ever been good at. Having him as the Titan of the Midway Champion, which was realistically where a 'W' in this match would lead... it was not something that Wondergirl would allow to happen.

NOVA WONDER: B-Dubs...

Bryan Williams, just so we're clear. Nova shrugged, as a third finger rose on her hand.

NOVA WONDER: You're alright.

She nearly snorted, dismissively waving that hand.

NOVA WONDER: Sorry, but if you're expecting a parade for not being a terrible person while managing to be a semi-capable athlete, you're not gonna' get it here. Because the fact is, I'd set the world ablaze before I let anyone overthrow me and take away what I know is mine. MINE. So when it comes to people like the INCREDIBLY outdated and past-their-prime Flaming Youth...

The noticeable cringe on the blue-haired beauty's face, before scoffing and giving those big, heavily lined eyes a roll.

NOVA WONDER: To the even more outdated Mime Time or whatever nonsense they're called...

Mockingly, she waved her hands before herself, similar to the famous 'locked in a box' pantomime that has become so associated with mimes. Backing up a half-step and further mocking the French Mime Assassins, she raised a leg to kick the front paneling of her imaginary box down. Dusting her hands off with the snarkiest of grins, she stepped forward, even going the extra mile to mockingly "step up" onto that kicked panel.

NOVA WONDER: To anyone and everyone in between, simply put? It does not matter how hard you work. It does not matter how badly you want to rally the troops, since you'll only do it in 140 characters or less. Any move you make will be futile. Any person you send down that ramp and into the ring, is practically a lamb heading into a very vicious slaughter. There's no one on my level in that ring, and there is no one who is going to stop me from becoming the number one contender to the Titan of the Midway Championship. I'm not here to be your 'bestest friend!' and I'm not here to hold your hand and pad your undeserved egos. I sure as hell didn't come all the way here not to capture the gold, REGARDLESS of who's holding that belt. And frankly... the way I see it? Defeating each and every single person on the PAW roster would have been a credit tacked to my name eventually. Speeding up the process is a courtesy being paid to the rest of you, by getting it out of the way now, instead of prolonging the process. Accept the inevitable. I am rebuilt. I am reborn. And at Heat Stroke...

A nasty little grin forced its way across her face. This was a veteran, who was by no means lacking confidence in her storied ability. Unlike her counterpart, Alessandra Reynolds? Nova Wonder was not afforded the luxury of being able to show anything but a brave face.

NOVA WONDER: You will all very quickly learn that you are playing with fire! And as for me? Well... I guess that the story of my life is going to be more of the same. Stack 'em up... I'll knock 'em down. And regardless of WHO is sent out to my butchering table... I'm going straight to the top

Licking her lips and glancing up to the well-lit apex cart of the wheel, she repocketed her hands. Smiling, she gave her long hair a little toss over her shoulder, feeling the slight breeze tussle her hair. It is with this that we fade to a close.

RECORD: Wins: 00 Losses: 00 Draws: 00

ACCOLADES: None Yet

DEFEATED: Soon To Come