Angelica’s connecting flight to Paris was going to be a while. There was a pilot strike going on, apparently, and while it was inconvenient, Angelica couldn’t really blame anyone who was trying to stand up for their own rights. Protest, peaceful or otherwise, was the backbone of most modern day societies, and forevermore an instigator of change. And on top of that, it gave her an excuse to go out and about in the Big Apple, a place she hadn’t visited in what seemed like forever.

It was so different from any other city she’d ever seen. Over the past few years, Angelica had gotten used to the relative solitude of a Texan ranch, but even Chicago (where she had worked weekly shows for a long time) could not quite live up to New York, New York. Let alone Vancouver. Everywhere you looked, there was something to see, whether it was smoke and vapor rising from the sewage drains, the neverending scaffolds that lined seemingly every building, the thousands of bars and shops; and of course, the magnificent skyline, with seemingly every building being some kind of historic landmark.

So Angelica was enjoying the sights, with her purse over one shoulder, and a slice of NY pizza in her free hand. When in Rome, right? She looked like quite the tourist. And as soon as she started to wonder whether she would pay her old mentor a visit over at Mount Sinai, a limousine rolled up next to her, and two guys who looked like the most stereotypical bodyguards imaginable stepped out. Black-and-white suit, dark sunglasses, clean shaven, broad-shouldered, and an earpiece for direct communication with whoever was overseeing them. They blocked Angelica’s path, who barely even noticed, since she was looking up at the Empire State Building in the distance.

Bodyguard: “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. We have orders to take you in.”

Angelica was woken up out of her daydream and frowned, not fully realizing what was going on.

”Huh? Take me in? What are you guys, FBI or something? Because then you’re going to have to show me some ID, sir."

Bodyguard: “We’re not government, ma’am.”

”Miss, axly."

Bodyguard: “Sorry, miss. Nothing to worry about, as I said. It’s just a social call. Our employer would like to speak with you.”

”Then why are you standing in front of me, rather than your employer? Whoever that person is?"

Angelica wasn’t about to step into some car without knowing precisely what she was getting into. She’d almost been properly kidnapped in the build-up to War Games, she wasn’t about to let that happen a second time. Vita, Raion and Mr. Oz weren’t here to bust her out this time.

The bodyguard nodded as if he understood. He reached for something in his breast pocket, and handed it over to Angelica. It was a small business card, but it contained no name. Only a Bible verse.

Quote:

Proverbs: 18:10
The name of the LORD is a strong tower; The righteous runs to it and is safe and set on high [far above evil]

The words in bold caught her eye immediately.

”Tower… High… Hightower! That’s my mom’s name? But I’m not… Ohh, I think I understand now…"

Here, in New York, it could only mean one thing. She knew who wanted to see her, and given what she knew about him, this kind of fit his MO.

”Okies, fine, I suppose. What’s the plan, how do we do this? Is he in the limo?"

Bodyguard: “Not quite, ma… Miss. Our instructions are to bring you to him. It’s not a long drive.”

Angelica got into the limousine, although she was still wondering if this was actually a good idea. Distractions were dangerous, and if she were to miss her flight to Paris, her whole schedule of training and preparation for Leap of Faith was going to be disrupted. She was in for her third defense of the TV title, and as taxing and demanding as it was to have to defend it every single show, PPV or not, she was determined not to fail. She had been overlooked enough during her XWF career, and she was on a good streak that she didn’t want to end. But it required hard work, a ton of motivation, and smart preparation. Anyone who claimed that wins came easy to them, were lying about not putting in any work. Angelica had figured that out when she’d seen Roxy become a multi-time World Champion. Even she worked harder for her success than she would ever care to admit. Those who didn’t do things the right way, the smart way, they crashed and burned sooner rather than later. Angelica had no intention of doing that any time soon, but intentions meant nothing if your actions didn’t live up to them.

Inside the limousine there was a bottle of champagne sitting in a cooler. It looked tempting, but Angelica wanted a clear mind for what was to come. Instead, she ate the last of her pizza and dumped the napkin in the glass so she wouldn’t be able to change her mind later. The limo took her towards the edge of Central Park and through to the Upper West Side. They finally stopped at a tall apartment building. Angelica was pretty certain these places were extremely exclusive, not to mention expensive, but wasn’t terribly surprised that these guys’ employer could afford one.

When they arrived, one of the bodyguards held the door open for her. Angelica felt a bit uneasy. She didn’t like being “served” like this. She was perfectly capable of opening her own doors, pushing her own buttons, and whatnot, thank you very much. But these guys would probably get an earful and a week’s wage worth of fines if they didn’t do as instructed, so she wasn’t going to make a big spectacle out of it.

During the elevator ride, she felt herself getting nervous. It was weird, because she was pretty certain there was nothing to worry about… or was there? It had been a while since she’d been in New York, true, but there were other  means of communicating than a face-to-face meeting, even if you were kind of old school. So the news had to be somewhat important, considering all the trouble *he* was going through to get her here. Even so, Angelica didn’t exactly appreciate being summoned like this.

The elevator door opened with a *ding*, and Angelica stepped right into the apartment. Well, this ‘apartment’ was probably bigger than many people’s houses, and the entrance hall alone was spacious enough to house a family of four. The interior was a bit kitschy for Angelica’s tastes, but that was probably because a lot of it was decades or centuries old and above all: pricey. Sarah would probably like it a lot. The chandelier was the most beautiful piece by far, with its thousands of clear-cut tiny diamonds decorating it. It probably cost more than Angelica’s entire ranch, land and all. But anyway, she wasn’t here for the decorations.

She finally saw the apartment’s owner. He was slightly smaller than Angelica was. She couldn’t see his face as he was looking out of the window towards Central Park, but he was clothed in an immaculate designer suit. Even so, all that was left of his hair was a ring around his temples and the back of his head. It would probably look better if he’d had it all shaven off, but hair was a point of pride for a lot of men, no matter how little they had left. As Angelica subtly coughed to announce her presence, he finally turned around. His face was old and sunken, and he needed thick glasses to see. The look on his face was stern, yet his mouth betrayed a hint of a smile as he saw her.

"Angelica…"

”Great-grampaw!"

Tom Hightower flinched at being called that, but he quickly regained his composure. He wasn’t used to being spoken to in so casual a manner, but he let it slide. Angelica was, after all, his great-granddaughter. Not that he had ever extended the same courtesy to his son, or granddaughter. Maybe he had mellowed a bit in his old age.

Tom went over to a big, majestic table and invited her to sit. A servant came over in a hurry, ready to pour them a glass of brandy. An old school custom. Angelica was glad she’d been able to resist the limo’s champagne, but felt it would be rude not to reciprocate as her great-grandfather held up his glass.

"To your good health… and to your many successes and victories to come."

Angelica held her glass up and followed his example by downing it in one go. But enough pleasantries, she thought.

”I’m… Surprised you wanted to see me. Not that it isn’t good to see you, obvs! It’s just, it’s been a while. I kinda got the feeling you didn’t want anything to do with us anymore. I never hear from you!"

"I’m a busy man. When you’ve worked so hard to build what I have, you don’t get the luxury of retirement. But…"

His face grew more serious.

"I will be honest with you, Angelica. I’m old. I’m tired. I can feel it in my bones. The doctors aren’t optimistic either. I fear I’m not long for this world, anymore."

Angelica’s heart started to race. Quite a bombshell to drop like this. Her suspicion made way for sadness.

”I’m… so sorry."

"Save it. I didn’t bring you here because I wanted your pity. I brought you here because when it comes to family, you’re the only one I can be proud of, even if I have done nothing to turn you into the woman you are today. My son, your grandfather, he was a failure on every level. Given every advantage in life, only to piss it all away and run off to some hippie commune so he could smoke all the drugs he wanted and bear zero responsibilities."

Angelica wanted to chastise him for being so mean towards his own son, but he did have a point. Her grandfather was currently living rent-free on her own ranch, right on the borders of Lacklanland, much to the chagrin of its inhabitants, let alone its ruler. That whole situation was a ticking time bomb, and it was going to have to be dealt with sooner or later.

"My two illegitimate children I haven’t seen nor heard of, nor do I care to. They don’t know who I am, and all the better for it."

Angelica did want to know. If she had more family out there, wasn’t it worth finding out who they were? Nevertheless, it seemed unwise to press him about this at this point.

”So why have you called me here, then? To… say your goodbyes?"

"Not exactly."

Thomas got up, and walked back over to the window, turning his back to Angelica.

"Angelica, when I say you are my only relative I feel proud of, I mean it. I gave my son everything, but he squandered it. He was given every advantage, and didn’t take a single one. But you… You were given nothing. You spent your childhood under the yoke of a kidnapping tyrant whose only purpose in life was to keep you down and stop you from reaching your potential. Had I known then, the woman you would become in spite of it all, I would have made an effort to find you. Not just that, but raise you. And maybe even have found your real father’s identity so you and your sister could have known each other.

I’d have sent you to LaGuardia. Columbia. You would’ve been even more formidable than you are today. But let’s not speak in hypotheticals."

Angelica didn’t know what to say. For so long, the only ‘alternative’ childhood she had imagined was one where Jean-Paul Lacklan had found out about her and had taken her in so she and Sarah could grow up together. Not once had she considered that the family on her mother’s side could’ve done something similar.

"In spite of everything, you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps and not only became a world-renowned athlete, making a name for yourself in sports and sports entertainment; but you became a successful businesswoman in your own right. You had nothing, came from nothing; and yet, you’ve managed to put yourself in a position where you now provide for those who are meant to provide for you. Your mother is a kind soul, but she is weak, and she is a sheep. I believe you are more than that. Which is why I want to leave it all to you, Angelica. When I pass, you get everything. My fortune. The stakes in my firm. My properties. You will put them to good use, I’m sure."

”I… I don’t know what to say."

Angelica was shocked. She hadn’t seen this coming.

"Then don’t. Think about it, and we will discuss it further over dinner."

”But… my plane… to Paris?"

"We’ll have you fly private tomorrow. The strikes will probably last until then, anyway. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to. Make yourself at home."

Thomas left behind a flabbergasted Angelica, who sat at the table in stunned silence for a few minutes. She didn’t know whether to be sad, happy, relieved, or what… The best way, as always, was to rant about her feelings. That was what they were supposed to do after all, right? Time for some #CoolTube!

---

---

”Hi there, Vaughnstars! Welcome back to the show of the Ang Gang! It’s… a bit of a rollercoaster, these days. It’s kind of weird, when all your life you’ve been told you’re not good enough. And then suddenly, out of the blue, someone comes along and tells you that not only are you good enough, you are the BEST! I’m not used to hearing that. Not when I was growing up, and definitely not during my wrestling career, no matter how successful I’ve been. Every single show it's the same song and dance.

‘Angie sucks. Lacklan light. Bla bla bla.’

Well, guess what? Leap of Faith is around the corner, and it’s time for my third defense, muchachos. That’s right, I took this hot potato of a TV title and gave it some stability. And now, I am looking to make it four in a row. Against the newest member, it seems, of BOB.

And you could be forgiven for not even realizing that BOB is still a thing. Sure, sure, Bobby Bourbz is super duper strong, Nickleman is who he is… And it’s not quite the same BOB that it used to be, in more ways than one. It’s not exactly the Miss Fury-run BOB of yesteryear, is it? But the thought remains the same. All BOB has ever done, is hurt people. Whether they belonged to the group, or not. And ultimately, my opponent will get hurt by it. Emotionally, or physically. That’s all that stable, or ‘brotherhood’ has ever done to anyone.

Now, BOB D, gosh that feels weird to say out loud but I suppose it beats the alternative… BOB D, I am wary of what you bring to the table. For the first time in my XWF career, it feels like people are looking at the card and are going ‘hmm yeah, Angie’s got this for sure!’ And that’s the most dangerous thing of them all. Complacency breeds incompetence, in spite of talent. Well, if there’s one thing I am not, it is complacent. I always try to become better at everything I do. With mixed results sometimes, as we saw on Celebrity Masterchef, but still… Can’t blame me for a lack of trying!

N-E-Wayz, like I said: four in a row. Dionysus just took the title from Isaiah King when he thought I’d be easy pickings, but like I said: complacency is a poison. He was on Cloud Nine before he got kicked off. But hey, that title was a hot potato, so everyone assumed I’d drop it to Noah Jackson right away. But nuh-uh, I overcame. And then, I beat Alex Richards inside HECK ITSELF, and he up and left the entire company right after. Some people would brag about that and claim they are the ones who beat Alex so badly he retired, but not me. It’s tempting, but if complacency is a poison, then gloating over one’s misfortune is surely toxic.

In any case, I don’t expect you to roll over, Bi-… Err, BOB D. I like to think I’ve come up with two fun stipulations for my last two defenses, so let’s go with another fun one. Since I aim to make it four in a row, let’s turn our match into the most violent game ever of…


So here’s the rules: first to connect 4 wins, obvs. BUT! The board will be placed at the top of the ramp. There will be no count-outs in this match, but you can only put in one piece at a time. You can’t put in another one until you’ve spent at least thirty seconds back in the ring.

So like I said, no real count-outs, no weapons allowed other than the environment, and your most important weapon just might be your thinking brainbox anyhoo!

Oh, and if you’re thinking about having your BOB buddies involved, outside interference in regards to me, the board, or the pieces, will result in an instant DQ. Them’s the rules!

So see you in France, BOB D! J’espère que notre match sera fantastique! Je suis sûr que les fans l’aimeront. Restes certain, je resterai champion du television, mon ami. Je connecterai quatre pieces, et quatre victoires. A Paris! C’est un peu poetique, non?

Au revoir!"