It was almost as if the universe got down on one knee and looked up towards the obnoxious blonde and said, "as you wish". The Law of Attraction dictates that the more you emit a certain frequency, the more likely you are to attract it into your life. They say think happy thoughts, and the more you will attract to be happy about. In Lexi's case, all she knew how to emit was chaos. Hatred. Mischief. Trouble. And what do you know? All she has attracted throughout the duration of her mere two weeks in this hell-hole was exactly that: chaos, hatred, trouble and mischief. It's not entirely her fault, she's been saying ever since she stepped foot in XWF that she had a bigger set of balls than most of the dudes in here and, well, all they've been doing is proving her right. To be fair, it is most certainly rare for a woman of this calibre to walk into a company and stir up as much shit as she has. Most woman are concentrated on looking pretty and trying to portray a persona that they were the "biggest bitch" in professional wrestling but... Let's be realistic - when you're born with a vagina, that competition begins amongst the entire female population the moment you fall out of your mother's uterus. Hell, you're already crying about something! But anybody who knows Lexi Sheckler (and trust me, there are a lot of people who do - for reasons both good and bad) know that she has dedicated her entire twenty-eight years to slaying the stereotypes of a typical female athlete. But the most important thing you should know about Lexi Sheckler, and the point which I feel will have to be stressed more frequently than others, is that she simply...does not care.

Vague statement - I know. But let me explain: do you really think that making snide remarks about Lexi's femininity, or more recently, Lexi's place in the Black Circle as a result of her being Shane 's - ahem - "fuckbag", boil her blood the way you had intended it to? You probably think so. You may be of the impression that deep down in Lexi's heart she's dying to reach out and convince you that women belong in this company and women are strong! We don't need to fuck to move up that corporate ladder! Let me be the first person to tell you that you've been grossly misinformed. Fact of the matter being, she's in The Black Circle. And quite frankly, if she has anything to do with it, she's not going anywhere. She has the North Korean Championship - you don't. She has a lot of things that you don't, actually... Ability. Talent. Confidence. Charisma. And in all actuality, she may even agree with you - sometimes, women can be a real fuckin' drag. Always complaining, always whining, always taking a stance for their gender and writing a goddamn speech about how women have earned their rights over the years. Equality and all that cute stuff.

Get the fuck over it, am I right?

Men just might be a more dominant form of the human species...we've all hinted at it in regards to evolution. Some religions dictate it. It's quite possibly an older argument than the bible itself - so why is it consistently a heated point of conversation?

Can I take a guess?

Are you threatened? You should be. Again, she's no psychologist, but she can most definitely recognize a jealous male when she encounters a company full. Fortunately, most of the adults Lexi has had the misfortune of working with in the past quickly came to the realization that gender provided absolutely no advantage to either opponent - especially not here. Not against Lexi Sheckler. This woman grew up with the understanding that humans are not necessary to the survival of this planet. Of Earth. You are useless; I am useless... So why not beat the absolute shit out of each other while we're here? And if you die...then you die. There's just one less fucking drone proving to be a hindrance to the happiness of her existence.

This happens everywhere. What you're feeling right now is jealousy whether you choose to acknowledge it or not; you're simply masking it with an emotion more reasonable for you to deal with. One of those being anger. How dare she? Did she just disobey my orders? She's showing weakness! Who the hell does she think she is? Quick, grab - he'll deal with her. She's a woman, does she really think blah blah blah blah....

Yes.

Look at this uproar! Look at what she's done. Truthfully, all she's done is pat herself on the back for the evident dissonance she's created within the company. We all have a purpose in life (or so we think) and this just happens to be hers. You may not have even realized it but she ruffled your feathers, gentlemen. She ruffled your feathers so fucking bad and you watched it happen. She literally made an incision so big that she fit under your skin and she is there forever. This week, next week, the week after that and probably the week after that also. Whether or not you're facing her in a match, or you're on the opposite end of the arena, you can not get rid of this woman. You're either suffering at the hands of the Interstellar Fatality, or you're listening to her serve a verbal rape to the sorry fucker who accidentally side-stepped her on his way to the porta-potty. I've said it before and I'll say it again - she is a machine. Emotionless, cold-hearted. You may see her physical presence before you, but just know that her mind is off in some quantum universe where you don't exist. She can perceive you, she can study you...Your behaviours, your words, your thoughts...but she cannot physically endear you. Nine times out of ten she's thinking about crushing your skull. Because you're not a human with live functioning organs and a family or a wife who needs you back home to help take care of little Susie and Danny...you're an existence. Not a vital one, either. You're just...there. And just being there pisses her the fuck off!

Griffin MacAlister...last week, the two of you battled on opposing sides. I could address the fact that Your Angel was there, but let's face it, he didn't put on quite as much of a showing as the two of you did. Sure, he had his moment of glory near the end when he fooled the dumbasses who bought tickets into thinking he was a part of The Black Circle and then...just as quick, his true colours came through. What a shock - and that was sarcasm. North Korean War Criminal was sent off to a better place...probably hell....at the hands of Lexi Sheckler. You were almost eliminated very early on in the match....It seems to me as if Lexi carried this entire match herself! But this week the two of you contradict each other in a sense that you're a team but you're also opponents in the most subtle of ways. If there were any one thing that Lexi struggles with in life, it's teamwork. Teamwork meant sharing your glory. If she wrote a bible, this would be a sin. Though...if she were to lose, she would have somebody to blame. God knows it wouldn't be her fault.

It pains her to say - and that's why she won't be saying it - that of all the people in this "tag match", she was thankful her "partner" was MacAlister. It was either him or the other two; Cyren and Sarah Saint James. It wouldn't be a far stretch if I said she would have contemplated suicide if she had to align herself even for one night with the aforementioned "superstars". Cyren hangs around XWF like a fucking cancer; everywhere you look, he's there. Lingering. Putting in his two cents...

Guess it's a good fucking thing they're getting rid of the penny. But we didn't need that to know that he's worthless.

Then we have Sarah Saint James...but is she his partner? Or just a manager? Things haven't been made exactly clear, at least not to Lexi. What with all the useless court dates and XWF suspending her from competitive action. Seems to me like she's tucking her tail between her legs like a scared fucking cat! In all actuality, would anybody really volunteer to take part in the main event with Lexi Sheckler and Griffin MacAlister after the events of last week? This woman withstood a solid brick being hauled at her ribcage...I'm sure as hell that you could manipulate the courts to let you compete.

Don't we embrace violence and murder here? Aren't those things we're supposed to cherish as a Saturday Night family? She should see this as a reward.

Surrounded by idiots. Always.

X X X

"Get the fuck up! I ain't gonna say it again! Let's move! MOVE!"

She smacked her lips together, attempting to isolate the drunken drool seeping out of the corner of her mouth. The left side of her face was cold and numb, and the rest of her body was cold and stiff. She was in somewhat of a lucid state; she could hear what was happening around her but she refused to acknowledge it. She could hear the clinking of metal bars, the rush of feet - thousands of feet. People yelling. Screaming. Fighting. This was all too familiar.

"Sheckler I said MOVE. Get dat ass up. I SAID GET DAT ASS UP!"

Her face turns into that of a scowl...Her eyebrows furrow inwards, she scuffs. Half asleep and unwilling.

"Frank, could I have a cigarette?"

She opened her eyes, shielding them from the bright fluorescent white lights that surrounded her.

"Man how many times I gotta tell you stop asking me for shit in front of the other inmates."

"Bro just give me a fuckin' butt."

He shimmied closer to the cage in which Lexi was confined...He slipped his hand into his pocket and, without notice, slipped a long stick of heaven through the bars. She snickered to herself, crawling over to it, retrieving it and crawling back to the corner of her cell to light it after everyone had gone out for their hour of recreation.

"Scale of one to fucked up, how fucked up was I last night?"

"Bitch you was fucked. Like, I can't even begin to describe the shit you were sayin' when we got you into custody. You were like, theorizin' theories n' shit. Like about God and Einstein and like, zombies n' shit and how they was all connected."

She smirked as the cigarette dangled from her lips. She was tapping her foot on the floor and it echoed throughout the correction facility. Her and Frank were close, mainly because he was in charge of keeping all of the solitary confinement prisoners under watch and well...she'd been coming in and out of here for years. Her criminal record was rather lengthy, and last night only added to her impressive resume of crimes.

"I do not remember shit. I met a really nice guy last night though, I think his name was Chris."

"You lit his car on fire."

She looked at him quizzically...Her face full of confusion slowly turned into an expression of laughter.

"Solid."

"Yo I got some bad news for you though..."

The way that he hung his head afterwards gave away everything. Lexi's eyes widened, the cigarette once pleasantly placed in her lips fell to the cold floor. She could feel the blood boiling under her skin. Her pulse quickened. The tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood at attention. Her hands curled involuntarily into fists. The worst news in the world was about to bludgeon her in the face....

"Frank don't do this to me..."

"I'm sorry man it's the only thing I coulda done."

"You couldn't think of anybody else! I thought we were bro's. This is torture, dude."

"Hey it was eiher that, or you stay here for a few more months."

"And with that alternative....you thought...this was the route to choose? You thought to yourself that this was the direction we should definitely go in?"

"Don't get smart with me, I'm tryin'. I did this because you wrestle n' shit. You got a career dawg, you can't just put that shit on hold."

"Uh, I most definitely can sir - and I would have liked that a whole lot better than --"

"LEXI...."

She pounded her head against the white brick wall of the jail cell. Repeatedly. She could hear the clicking of the latest and most fashionable heels heading towards her cell at a rapid rate. Muttering every swear word in probably ever language under her breath, she turned to Frank and hoarsely whispered.

"Pretend I'm not here."

"Bitch are you seven?"

"JUST DO THIS FOR ME."

She curled up in a corner behind her bed, tucking her feet and knees into her chest. She leaned her head forward as far as she possibly could before it started to hurt her neck. She could hear the woman sigh.

"Where is she?"

"I'm... I'm not supposed to say."

"Damn it Frank, give me the keys."

She tore the keys to the cell right out of the palm of Frank's hands. She could hear a faint jiggling of the keys and then the ear-piercing sound of the cell door scraping open. Footsteps....footsteps....Stop. Lexi refused to look up, knowing that if Satan had a mustang and Manolo heels, he would be staring right back down at her.

"Get up."

Lexi sighed deep, lunging upwards and adjusting her jeans. The woman grabs her by the arm and begins dragging her out of the cell. Lexi viciously shakes her arm free.

"Don't fuckin' touch me."

"Then let's go. This is the last - do you hear me - the LAST time I am doing this shit for you. Do you understand me."

Lexi sarcastically looks around the jail hearing her mother's voice echoing through the entire building.

"Loud and clear, Sergeant bitch-face."

Karenna looked at her, eyes wider than all hell. She slapped Lexi hard across the face and was more than offended when Lexi responded by chuckling silently.

"Last fucking time."

"Sorry - the last time? Is it the last time you're doing this? It wasn't made quite clear to me before...Frank, do you think this is the last time she's going to do this?"

"Do not drag me into dat shit."

Lexi and Karenna walked silently side by side (of course with Lexi trailing slightly behind as a result of her extremely hung-over state) down the corridor until they reached the outdoors. Escorted by police to Karenna's car, handcuffs were released off of Lexi's wrists and right before she got into the vehicle Frank ran out of the building...

"Sheckler, you forgot this."

The police looked puzzled as Frank handed her a big, shiny North Korean Championship belt. She grinned, taking it hauling it over her shoulder for safe-keeping. She could see Karenna rolling her eyes from across the car, undoubtedly annoyed still with Lexi's career of choice. In the car, Karenna turned the stereo up so that she wouldn't have to hear Lexi's voice. This was all too fine with Lexi, who had no intentions on sparking any sort of conversation. The only issue being that the musical tastes between the two were nothing short of drastically different. You want to find out one of Lexi's weaknesses? Leave her in a car while Drake is on the radio. Lexi took the volume dial between her fingers and slowly dissipated the ear-wrenching rap music, much to Karenna's dismay. She looked over at Lexi, staring daggers into her.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yup."

Lexi looked down at her iPhone which - surprisingly - had leftover battery life from the night before. Concentrating on answering her e-mails and text messages she was simply unaware of Karenna's dirty stares.

"Did you want to bring it to light, or?..."

"Oh, no need. I took the problem into my own hands. You play shitty music in the car, I turn it down. Problem solved. No need to talk about it. Or at all."

"You know what, you're lucky I don't dump you on the side of the street."

"It would be better than driving in a car with you and the YMCA."

"It's YMCMB."

"Don't care."

It was a fairly sunny day, somewhat warm...Karenna drove with the windows down which she knew pissed Lexi off because her hair would constantly blow into her face and her eyes. Lexi positioned the title belt on her shoulder in a way that would reflect the sunlight into her mother's eyes. She could see Karenna's knuckles becoming whiter and whiter, gripping the steering wheel harder and harder...trying to keep from having a nervous breakdown - or crashing the car. Lexi sat there smirking like the asshole she is.

"Can you move your little shiny toy please? I can't see the road if there's sun in my eyes."

"My what?"

"Your toy. Your little plastic belt you have there."

"Oh! You mean my championship. It's strange how you got the two confused. Toys and championships. You must really need your eyes checked. Old age does that to some people."

"Just fucking move it, Lexi."

"Didn't hear a please and thank you."

Karenna sped up past the highway and spotted a side-street. As she slammed on the breaks, Lexi's face smashed off of the front of the dashboard and her title flew off of her shoulder, onto the floor of the car. Her nose began to bleed.

"Pays to wear a seatbelt, you know."

Lexi's lip curled up into a snarl. She leaned forward, grabbing her title belt. Wiping a bit of the blood from her nose onto her hand, she opened the car door. She spit out some blood, spit out some saliva. She rested one hand on the roof of the car and kicked the door shut.

"It was nice seeing you."

"You too. Make sure you drive the opposite way into traffic."

She slammed the door. She began walking down the side of the dirt road...dragging her feet every step of the way. She reached into her bag and slipped on her pair of Aviators and almost considered praying for them to be the cure to her hangover. She smelled like whiskey and the more she walked, the hotter the temperature seemed to get. It didn't help that she had an added ten pounds of solid gold on her shoulder. Her make-up was smudged down her cheeks her jeans ripped down her knees. She looked to her right, looking down at that belt. She smiled.

"Fuck seatbelts. This is the only belt I need. It may not keep me from death, but it sure as fuck helps me live."

X X X

Most people rely on a sense of family for support. Family is your blood, and you are literally the hybrid mix of two sets of DNA totally separate from one another. You are unique, we all are. The only issue is that....when that support consistently lets you down, abandon you, you turn to your own blood. When you become your own lifeline, your own support, your own motivation, you turn to something to help you see the inside of you. Without friends - close friends - you live in isolation. When you are isolated you begin to mentally disintegrate. It is proven that humans need social contact as an essential survival tool. Not Lexi. Not anymore. Lexi need something a little bit more introverted. Her own blood - and yours, too. Her own mind. Her own body. Becoming one slowly with the universe. Becoming one with her art. All of the inanimate things she used to bring comfort to herself while she raised herself alone. Protection is not necessary when you know how to survive in the most life-threatening situations.

This is why she is here.

This is why she will win.

When you take that away from her, what else does she have? What would she be?

Nothing.