Doubt to Determination

March 27th, 2024

Tossing. Turning. Restless, dissatisfied, unsettled. This was the state of RIA. Laying in a bed at the Hotel Indigo in Cardiff, she stared upward. The ceiling offered no answers, no compassion, nothing to ease her troubled mind. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, legs dangling over the side of the bed. The former Lockhart took a moment before reaching over and groping around the top of the nightstand positioned next to the bed. Despite the darkness’ best attempt to further RIA's frustration, her hand finally bumped the item she had been looking for; her cell phone. She raised it up and tapped the screen. Local time? 1:37 AM.

An annoyed sigh. Stumbling back into her room drunk at such a time? That was fun. A racing mind making sleep an impossible task? Less fun. The Psychoberry carefully climbed out of bed. By this point, it should come as no surprise that the hotel room she occupied wasn't a single bed. Kohime Mori dozed softly a scant few feet away in her own bed. RIA grabbed her travel case delicately, carrying it to the bathroom. The door closed with as little sound as possible before the gear containing her clothing flew open. The agitated woman slowly picked through the items contained within at a pace a slug would deem lackluster. Soon enough, the cami and sleep shorts that had covered RIA's body were replaced with a pink sports bra top and a pink mesh overlay on top of black lycra shorts underneath. Socks and running shoes would soon complete the outfit.

Grabbing a small clutch bag while heading to the door, the Technicolor Comforter of Wrestling paused and gazed over at her sleeping friend. While doing your best not to disturb a friend in slumber would come off as courteous in any typical situation, RIA had certainly had her share of times where Mori’s state of rest wasn't a thought in her mind. Reflection and a brain screaming in uncertainty lead her to wonder… Had she ever been anything more than a burden to Kohime? The Japanese woman would never say such a thing out loud. That didn't stop the thoughts from polluting RIA's mind, dirtying clean thoughts of positivity. It weighed on her as the deliberate quiet the Psychoberry had been practicing in the last several minutes extended to her exit from the room.

The halls were completely devoid of life. The only thing that was staving off absolute spookiness was the muffled sounds emanating from behind the doors of random rooms. Whether it was televisions being a tad too loud, music enjoyed at a volume that made sure others outside could offer opinions on it or someone conversing at a level that would drown out Sam Kinison, RIA felt a bit more at ease on her trip. Into an elevator she went, smacking the button for the bottom floor. She swayed a bit, subtly bouncing sideways to each foot. The noise that had calmed her nerves scant seconds ago had been replaced by a dull saxophone and keyboard melody. There's nothing wrong with easy listening, assuming you're not at mental war with yourself. RIA's eyes fixated on the numbered buttons, each one lighting up as the elevator descended. 3 lit up with a ding before going dark again. 2… Ding… Finally, the ground floor. What had been a less than 5 minute trip down certainly felt far longer for the former Lockhart, who burst out the lift as quickly as her legs would take her.

A few minutes more and she arrived at her destination; the 24 hour gym located inside the hotel. Walking inside, RIA approached a treadmill housed in the facility, stopping over at a vending machine for a bottle of water beforehand. She dropped the bottle down in the machine’s designated drink holder and opened the clutch she had brought with her. Two items were procured from the inside, those being an earbud case and her phone. The Psychoberry set her bag down and snatched up her phone. The trans woman's fingers flew in a fury. The PRIME website was pulled up and in short order, a playlist of matches was put together. The 4 match set all had one competitor in common throughout the contests; the Second Coming, daughter of Dusk, Rose.

Putting her phone down on the treadmill’s deck, RIA grabbed her earbud case, a pink pill shaped looking apparatus. Opening it up, her head craned while her eyes scanned the gym. It should come as no shock that she found herself as the only one there. Putting the buds snuggly into her ears, RIA stepped onto the workout device and started messing with the settings. 7 out of 10? Should do the trick. She turned her phone sideways, allowing the soon to play videos the whole screen for viewing. The Psychoberry tapped the middle of the device to start her watching experience, shortly followed by hitting the start button on the treadmill. The machine whirled up to speed as the battle between Rose and The Anglo Luchador began. A two legged cheetah in pursuit of its prey, leg muscles flexing and pumping, a hungry stare that couldn't be shaken.

… At least, until a hand suddenly waving in front of her face startled her. RIA lurched, reaching for the bar in a panic while her feet flopped around in chaos. She regained her balance just well enough to alter the treadmill's setting down to a 1, a slow walk for people under the age of 70. The Technicolor Comforter of Wrestling snapped her head to the right, breathing erratic as she removed her earbuds. Standing there was Kohime Mori, because who the hell else would it be? One look in the young woman's chocolate colored eyes would tell you exactly the same thing her face would.

“Miss Ria… How long have you been down here?” The worry in Mori’s voice echoed the rest of her demeanor. Lockhart’s eyes moved to her phone. Rose had just given Don Winters a face full of the second turnbuckle via drop toe hold. Had it only been close to a half hour?

“Uh… What time is it?” RIA could have checked herself with closer examination of her media device, but the earlier surprise still had her mind reeling. A lack of sleep also was no aid in rational choice making.

“It's 3:40 in the morning, Miss Ria.” Kohime answered, tone softer than the cutest of bunnies. The Psychoberry's eyebrows raised in surprise. Whether that was due to the unobserved passage of time or that she had been running like a well oiled machine prior to interruption was something only RIA knew. “How long?”

“Almost 2 hours.” The flat answer came. Kohime's mouth dropped open and her eyes bugged out, neither to cartoonish levels but certainly enough to be noticed. One look at RIA would show she had indeed been running that long. A person would be forgiven for thinking she had actually been swimming instead. Sweat coated her body, giving her skin an almost plastic look to it. Her amaranth pink and maya blue hair was matted to the Psychoberry's head and shoulders, looking as if it were painted on instead of real. Mori figured a placid approach was best.

“What's wrong?” The Moé Monster gently prodded. “Your match with Rose is in two days! Are you… Are you afraid you won't win?”

RIA couldn't help but roll her eyes at the suggestion. It wasn't fear of losing. She had lost plenty of times in her career. She knew she would lose plenty more going forward. That was the way of things for most wrestlers. The stakes, with the loser having to shake the hand of the winner as a show of respect, didn't bother her. Hell, RIA was the one who decided on such a thing. If the crown jewel of KING could defeat her, the former Lockhart had zero problems with honoring the agreement. She had also pointed out on a few different occasions that she believed in Rose’s talent. No, it wasn't the match that was weighing heavy on her mind. Or at the very least, the consequences of failure weren't.

“What if…” The Psychoberry hesitated momentarily before a thick sigh escaped her mouth. “What if Rose is right about me? What if I'm just a know it all that runs her mouth without any meaningful action? What if the relationships I value are actually just shallow and meaningless high school bullshit? Superficial ways to make myself feel better?”

“Miss Ria…” Anguish coated both words. Though there was a brief pause, Kohime wasn't given much time to formulate a response before RIA continued her rant.

“I mean, really… People don't come to me for help. They ask guys like Youngblood, Jared, Nate. I'm not sure Bex and Angie give two shits if I ever talk to them again. Sid could definitely do better than me. Anna would rather hang around that cult weirdo Williams. Even you, ‘Hime… I ain't half the teacher RAIKO is and there's definitely people out there that you'd be better giving your time to.”

If Mori was struggling with what to say before, the rant only dug that hole deeper. She could offer easy words; everything will be okay, you're overthinking, this is just another match, etc etc etc... That wasn't who Kohime Mori was. That wasn't how their relationship worked. Their bond had deepened, even if RIA couldn't see past her doubt currently to see that.

“Okay, what's going on?” Kohime moved over, gently resting her hand on her friend's back, just between her shoulder blades. “Is it the pressure of a big match? You don't talk like this.”

The Psychoberry scoffed, a smile of sorrow creeping across her lips.

“Not openly.” RIA tapped at the treadmill's display to stop the machine completely, leaning against the bar. “When I'm alone, when I have privacy… Sometimes, you say shit to yourself far more terrible than what any other person is capable of. One can be their own worst enemy.”

Self doubt. It's not a unique emotion. Kohime was all too familiar with it herself. The beating she had received from Arthur Pleasant last year had shattered her dwindling confidence. It had only been recently that she had started to rebuild it. Going to the gym, getting back in the ring, growing her hair out, all these things had helped. What made the healing process even more effective was her friends. The budding closeness of herself and Nate Colton, the kindness of Jared Sykes, the amusing snarkiness of Anna Daniels, the playful teasing from Justine Calvin and Jenny Colton… But most of all, RIA had come to encapsulate aspects from all of them. Yes, there were moments of unhinged disorder and frustration did occasionally follow such incidents. But the Technicolor Comforter of Wrestling had proven part of that nickname true for Kohime. There was comfort. Laughing at Mori's lame jokes. Always standing up for her. Listening to her dreams and desires without judgment… She hated thinking her friend wasn't as bright as the light the woman shone towards others.

“I don't understand.” Mori responded after a long minute. “You were so confident when you were matched with Tony Gamble. Why is this different?”

“Because I wanted to beat his ass!” RIA shot back without hesitation. “That guy had a thrashing coming his way and it wasn't just catharsis.”

“And Rose doesn't?” The Moé Monster responded incredulously.

“It's different…” A heavy exhale from the Psychoberry as she leaned further forward, head hanging downward. “Gamble is a selfish asshole with a face that belongs on the cover of an issue of Fangoria. Rose… At least she's fighting for something, even if I don't agree with her goals or how she goes about them.”

A dead mother and husband. A father in faltering health. A comatose friend. To Rose, wrestling (PRIME in particular) had caused a lot of this damage. What it hadn't fractured still fueled her anger, an anger that had been pushing the woman forward. Rage. Revenge. Retribution. These were Rose’s goals. Kohime removed her hand from RIA's back, circling around to stand in front of her friend.

“Can I ask you something?” Mori didn't give the older woman time to answer. “You want to help Rose, right? Anyone that's been watching ReVival has heard you say that. So what will help her more? Pity? Treating her with kid gloves?”

RIA spat out a breath of frustration before tilting her head upward.

“Of course that won't help.”

“Okay.” Kohime gave a knowing nod. “You said she chose the hard way, that she had made violence the answer. Isn't that right?”

The Psychoberry knew she had said those things and hadn't done so lightly. Willing as she was to walk down this path with the Second Coming, RIA was of the opinion that Rose was the one who set this course. Her posture straightened up. The Pittsburgh native gazed at her friend. Strength when she lacked it, when she needed it most… That's what RIA's friends meant to her. Even still, seeing the once timid Mori act so assertive brought a small smile to her face. When did the young woman get so tough?

“You know what? You're right.” Confidence began to inject itself into RIA's words. “Fine, maybe she doesn't want my brand of help. Too bad, Rosie stepped into my world! She's gonna learn a few things.”

The former Lockhart walked to the end of the treadmill, hopping off the machine. She strode towards the middle of the gym, where the room was more open, beginning to pace.

“First thing she's gonna learn is a match with me isn't just about wrestling, just about what moves or fancy counters she knows.” More confidence. “No, you get in the ring with me, you better be ready to fight. You better give maximum effort. Throw your biggest bombs at me, cuz that low level shit ain't gonna cut it!”

RIA began to bounce every few steps.

“She's also gonna learn there's a pressure associated when it comes to tangling with me. You ain't just fighting me. The strength of my friends. The love of my family. The support of my fans. I might not look like much, but how the fuck is it gonna feel when 70,000 people are bearing down on you?! How much pressure can she take? I know this ain't a handicap match, but it may as well be!”

The Psychoberry's head whipped back and forth, eyes darting around the room. She quickly found her target towards the corner of the area; a hanging punching bag. RIA skipped over, despite her exhaustion. A rapid right-left-right combo of fists struck the upper portion of the equipment. More light jumping and prowling.

“This match, this fight, it ain't like her other ones. Tom wanted personal revenge. Don Winters, ol’ Sagey, they didn't give a shit about facing her, at least not the way I do. Max? That twisted motherfucker just wanted to hurt her. This isn't violence for the sake of violence. I wanna hit her pride. I wanna humble her. Ain't got no desire to destroy Rose. But maybe this, maybe taking her down a notch or two will help her get her head outta her ass! I'm gonna help her grow, even if the bitch can't see that!”

RIA strode over to yoink her water bottle out of the treadmill's cup holder before plopping down on a cushioned bench that sat against one of the walls. She popped the cap off, gulping down a healthy swig as Kohime sat down next to her.

“I know you can do this, Miss Ria!” Mori tenderly encouraged her friend. “You're fighting from your heart. I know some people don't think that means much, but I've seen you wrestle. I know what you're capable of.”

The minimal smirk that was occupying RIA's face had been growing in nature. By now, the trademark kooky smile she typically wore was back in full force.

“If there's one thing I got, it's heart!” The former Lockhart agreed. “Don't get me wrong, Rosie has been through some shit and I feel for her. But damn, we got a different way of looking at stuff. Losing a mother? Fuckin' awful. But at least she had two parents. Her dad being on the road all the time? At least he loved her and provided for the girl. Never had a father figure even close to that in my life. Her husband passed. My heart genuinely aches for her there. But at least she had that love. It may never be replaced, but she did have it.”

RIA slumped a bit on the seat. Her expression calmed, though still a soft smile. She chugged more water from the plastic vial before screwing the lid back on tightly.

“I think it's just a difference of attitude.” Kohime postulated. “You're more optimistic, she's more pessimistic. It doesn't make her wrong or anything. With what's happened to her, I think it's understandable.”

RIA shrugged. It's not so much that she disagreed with or didn't value her friend's opinion, rather that there might be more to things than that.

“I think Rosie would tell you she's a realist.” The Psychoberry countered. “I could be wrong. Let's be honest… As much as her and I both wanna act like we got the other one down pat, that's bullshit. Most people are complex. Complicated. I bet we got some shit in common, even if it might just be some favorite foods or songs we like. Maybe after this… Maybe if I'm able to change her mind… Who knows, we might be friends?”

Mori tilted her head. Friendship? Rose might not have had the vitriol for RIA that she had towards on the roster, but friends? Never say never, but such a thing didn't seem like it'd be in the cards.

“Maybe?” Not exactly the most convincing tone from Kohime.

“Listen…” RIA began. “Janelle split my skull open and I forgave her! Sage totally shattered my face and I barely hate him now! I'm gonna make her show me respect… But I want it to be more than that. I really do want to help her.”

The Moé Monster smiled gently and nodded.

“I know you do.”

The Psychoberry slapped her hands together emphatically, shooting up from the bench with an energy that belied her appearance.

“Hey, I have an idea.” RIA said. “How about later, we go to the spa? We'll get massages, facials, real pretty girl shit. Whaddya say?!”

Kohime's eyes widened and sparkled as she clasped her hands in front of her chest.

“Oh my god, that sounds great!” Mori exclaimed. Her expression shifted as her eyes traveled. “Um, but maybe we should clean that up before we go back to bed?”

The former Lockhart’s head swung over to where Mori was now pointing. Her upper body jutted back in surprise with what greeted her sight. The treadmill. It was absolutely doused in RIA's perspiration.

“Wow.” The Psychoberry deadpanned. “I don't think I've sweat that much since the last time Sid and I- You know what, nevermind. Let's just clean it up.”

RIA and Kohime walked towards the opposite wall where the cleaning supplies were housed, looking to clean up the mess made.