FRESH PERSPECTIVE

MARCH 28 - LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM.

“Coming up next on Sky Sports Radio News, a special guest joins us in the studio. PRIME Wrestling has arrived for its annual Culture Shock event, and one of its competitors, who also happens to be the daughter of PRIME Hall-of-Famer Dusk, Rose, will be speaking with us after the commercial break. Don't change the station."

Rose's mind registered the words as she sat in the green room provided by the radio station. Her fingers played with the water bottle before her, absentmindedly peeling off the label. Memories from the past week replayed in her mind, causing her to drift away from the present moment. Suddenly, a knock at the door snapped her back to reality.

"Are you ready?" asked a young male intern standing in the doorway. It took Rose a moment to remember where she was and why she was there; Lindsay's office had assigned her to do press for this event.

She sighed briefly before responding, "Yes, I'm ready." She stood up from the black leather sofa and approached the intern.

MARCH 21 - SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

Rose took a deep breath and stepped into the therapist's office, greeted by the receptionist's warm voice. Inside, she found a peaceful escape from the busy city life outside.

Rose felt calm as she entered. The walls were adorned with beautiful artwork - landscapes and abstract pieces that seemed to hold healing stories. Soft instrumental music played in the background, blending with the rustling of leaves from a potted plant in the corner.

The room was designed for comfort and relaxation. Plush armchairs and an oversized couch invited Rose to sink in and let go of her worries. Soft sunlight streamed through the windows, dancing with the flowy curtains.

One wall was lined with a bookshelf filled with self-help guides and literary classics. The shelves invited visitors to explore their minds and find new perspectives. As Rose settled into her appointment that Thursday morning, she tried to embrace that mindset.

The therapist's desk was crowded with personal items representing stories of hope and resilience. As Rose entered, her therapist sat behind the desk, flipping through a notebook, waiting for her to begin.

Rose sat by the window, observing the busy city streets. She relaxed in a dark blue armchair, tucking her legs under herself. "My week has been...eventful," she said as the therapist scribbled in their notebook.

"Between training, spending time with Adeline, and traveling," she continued, "I've had quite a bit going on. And now I have to pack for my trip to London. I'll be there for media events and work for a few weeks."

"Will Adeline be joining you?"

Rose shook her head. "No, unfortunately, she has school obligations. Although, I've been thinking about homeschooling her so she can travel with me. I think it could be a great learning experience for her."

"Homeschooling can be challenging. We've talked about your education and goals before, but do you feel ready to take on the role of teacher?"

It was a rhetorical question, with an obvious answer for someone like Rose - a woman who had turned to alcohol and drugs in the past and was still dealing with the loss of her husband.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But I could hire a tutor to accompany us on the road. Money isn't an issue."

More scribbling in the notebook. "What about socialization?"

“I think she’s struggling to adjust. She doesn’t seem to connect with her teacher and has difficulty making friends at school. I can't help but wonder, Sam, am I doing more harm than good by leaving her in this environment?”

Samantha looked at her client intently, tilting her head to one side. “That's a valid concern. I worry about the impact of everything she has gone through and the grief she has experienced over the past year. A stable routine is crucial for feeling grounded and connected to reality.”

Rose let out a grumble, feeling frustrated by the situation.

“You've brought this up before, Rose. Constant traveling, suppressing your emotions, and pushing forward may seem helpful, but they can also negatively affect you.”

Rose looked away, recalling moments in therapy that made her uncomfortable and restless. She forced herself to remain still, although her therapist knew her mind was working overtime.

“You're here because you want to be, Rose. You know this can help you. It's a positive step forward, but many steps remain left to take.”

With a slow nod, Rose turned back to face Samantha and put on a forced smile. Samantha briefly leaned back in her chair and studied Rose before glancing at her notebook.

"A few weeks ago, you mentioned a dream that felt different than any others you've had. Today, you seem a bit tired. Have you had any similar dreams?"

A sigh escaped Rose's lips, and she leaned into the armrest, digging her nails into it.

"No," she responded, knowing her response was clearly a lie.

DREAM

For a week, the song's haunting melody had played on a loop in Rose's head until it finally transported her to a dream that felt all too real. She wandered through a picturesque French village surrounded by enchanting cobblestone streets adorned with vibrant flowers and charming stone houses. The scent of freshly baked croissants and delicate lavender filled the air, mingling with the joyful laughter of children playing nearby.

Every corner of the village was bursting with hidden treasures waiting to be discovered, from secret courtyards adorned with colorful mosaics to quaint cafes serving steaming cups of café au lait. The villagers seemed straight out of a whimsical fairy tale, greeting each other with warmth and love as they spoke lyrical French words.

At the heart of the village stood a majestic medieval church, its towering spire reaching towards the sky. Its ancient walls whispered tales from centuries past, while stained glass windows bathed the interior in a kaleidoscope of colors. Inside, a sense of peace and reverence lingered, as if spirits from generations gone by were still present within its sacred walls.

Rose's feet carried her through the front doors and into rows of pews as if guided by an invisible force. But her curiosity pulled her towards a soft glow emanating from a side chapel. As she entered the dimly lit space, she was met with a breathtaking sight: ancient tapestries depicting stories of love, sacrifice, and transformation adorned every wall.

The air was rich with mysticism as if the chapel held secrets that could unlock the deepest parts of one's soul. A small altar at the center of the room beckoned to Rose, its flickering candles casting a warm and inviting light. With trembling hands, she reached out and touched the smooth surface of the altar.

At that moment, a flood of emotions washed over her as memories long buried started to resurface. She felt a deep connection to something greater than herself, as if the tapestries and altar held the key to her unanswered questions.

As Rose closed her eyes, the chapel came alive before her. The tapestries swayed and shifted, revealing scenes of love, sacrifice, and transformation that transcended time and space. Whispers floated around her, teasing her with their elusive words as she twirled in an attempt to grasp them. At that moment, Rose knew she had found the answers she had been seeking.

Rose's voice echoed through the space as she called out to the mysterious whispers. Her eyes wandered over the dark corridors until a soft glow caught her attention. She made her way towards it, each step heavy with anticipation.

Finally, she saw a woman standing before her, illuminated by a warm golden light. Rose felt drawn to her, but the distance between them remained constant no matter how fast or far she ran.

Frantically, Rose tried to understand this strange, dreamlike realm. She yelled out once more, hoping for an answer. The woman smiled at her with familiarity and opened her mouth to speak.

Desperate to hear her words, Rose sprinted towards her, but the wind seemed to push her back. Yet somehow, she could hear the woman's message clearly - a phrase Rose had heard before.

"Endroits Minces," the woman spoke, and suddenly, everything faded away like a fleeting dream.

MARCH 21 - SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

Sam's voice broke through the memories that had consumed Rose's mind. She blinked, realizing she was no longer reliving her dream but instead sitting in her therapist's office.

"I apologize," Rose said, trying to shake off the disorientation.

"I researched the dream you mentioned," Sam continued. "It took me a while to find it, but the term you used was Endroits Minces, correct?"

Rose nodded, the words still echoing in her mind.

"Good, good," Sam said as she looked down at her notes. "It appears that Endroits Minces is a French phrase meaning 'thin places'. Have you heard of this before?"

Rose shook her head this time, feeling confused and certain that it must be written all over her face.

"Some say it's where Heaven and Earth meet," Sam explained. "They believe there are places of intense energy where two worlds intersect."

The concept seemed both logical and completely absurd.

"Like spirits and angels?" Rose asked.

Sam chuckled. "I wouldn't go quite that far, but the idea is that these places exist at the intersection of different realms. It's quite heady stuff. You mentioned your Dad talked about your Mom having dreams, too. Did he mention any phrases like that? Or anything you remember from your Mom?"

"No, never," Rose replied honestly. "It's not ringing a bell. And why would I hear the words in French?"

Sam made a note in her notebook. "That is an interesting point. Why would the words be in French? Do you think you may be pushing yourself too hard? All this training and competing while still processing heavy emotions could be taking its toll on your mental and physical health. Perhaps there is something more going on here."

Could she be onto something? Training and working out consumed most of Rose's days. She was also trying to spend as much time with her daughter Adeline as possible, but sometimes, the exhaustion caught up to her. The dreams had come from moments of pure exhaustion, she realized. The first time after her match against Winters or the second time after a grueling workout followed by a night of excessive drinking at a bar, she couldn't even remember entering or leaving.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rose replied, trying not to sound dismissive. "But right now, I can't afford to stop. I have goals I want to achieve."

"Are those goals worth risking your well-being and your life?" Sam asked pointedly.

Rose paused for a moment before answering.

"Yes."

MARCH 22 - SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

As the clock struck 2:00 AM, Rose was unable to find solace in sleep as anxiety stitched a new layer of skin to her epidermis. She got out of bed and made her way to the door, opening it to reveal her father sitting at the kitchen table, engrossed in a book.

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked, and Craig turned to study her closely.

"I could ask you the same thing," he chuckled. "Come on, sit down. Would you like something to drink?"

Rose shook her head as she sat down, not even caring that her ponytail had transformed into a tangled mop on top of her head. She wasn't in the mood to fix it.

"What's keeping you up at this hour?"

She let out a sigh. "Just a million things are running through my mind right now. I'm packing and heading to Europe for wrestling. And I've never competed in the United Kingdom—it's a lot to process."

"I understand," her father replied. "I remember feeling that way before big matches on a big stage. It can be overwhelming."

"It really is," she admitted. "It feels like the moment is bigger than me - like I don't measure up."

She felt tears welling up but pushed them back with all her might. Then she felt her father's hand on top of hers.

"You do measure up. Every time you step into that ring, you show everyone you belong there. Don't measure your success solely based on wins or losses, though - I learned that the hard way."

She looked at him, not recalling ever seeing him worry about trivial things like win-loss records. "You never seemed bothered by it."

"I was," he confessed. "I wanted to reach the top in PRIME, and every time I lost, I felt like I was starting from scratch."

"But you competed in some of the biggest matches in PRIME's history. You fought for the Universal Title. You faced off against legends like Youngblood, Troy, Snow, and Tsonda. And now you're in the Hall of Fame."

He nodded. "I know, but that feeling of not belonging—of not measuring up—never really disappears. Until you realize there's more to it than wins and losses. It's about connecting with the fans who come out to see you perform night after night. They don't care about your win-loss record. They care about seeing you give it your all, leaving everything on the line, and striving to be the best version of yourself."

“That’s what you did, night after night,” Rose spoke with a hint of nostalgia. “The connection with the audience was surreal. But they loved you. They hate me.”

Craig let out a chuckle. “They don't hate you, Rose. They hate who you represent and what you stand for. You speak from a place of truth, and it's uncomfortable for some people to hear that. Trust me, if they were silent and unresponsive, that's when you should worry. The fact that they react to you, even negatively, shows that you have them right where you want them. Because you’re being true to yourself.”

She had never thought about it this way, only assuming they didn't want to hear the harsh realities she shared with them. But as she considered her father’s words, she felt a sense of belonging in the ring more than ever.

“Ria is going to be a tough opponent,” Rose murmured. “She has Lindsay on her side and the crowd cheering her on.”

“And?” Craig pressed.

Rose looked up at her father, his brow furrowed in concern. “I don't remember raising a quitter or someone who backs down from a fight. I raised a strong woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. You graduated high school early and accelerated through college and law school while raising a family and pursuing your dreams. If this is your dream now, does it matter who stands across from you in the ring?”

Pride swelled in Rose's chest as she gazed at her father, tears welling up in his eyes at his belief in her.

“Dad,” she whispered gratefully.

Gathering herself, Rose sat up straighter in her chair. “You're right. If Ria wants this fight, she'll get it—regardless of what the fans may want. They won't see her win in London.”

“That's my girl,” Craig beamed with pride.

Rose leaned back in her chair and looked at her father thoughtfully. “I think I want to bring Adeline with us,” she said.

Craig nodded approvingly. “That's a great idea.”

“And Lorelai will come too. It'll just be you here, by yourself.”

Craig waved it off dismissively. “Don't worry about me; I can take care of myself. I've done it before, and I'll do it again.”

A smile spread across Rose's face as she reached for her father's hand and held it tightly. His arms wrapped around her, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.

MARCH 28 - LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM

[The following is a transcript distributed by the PRIME PR Department to journalists covering the Culture Shock event.]

Radio Host: The tension in the studio is palpable as Rose, a fierce member of the PRIME roster, joins us today. This Friday and Saturday at Millennium Stadium, she will face off against RIA in what promises to be a truly epic event. Welcome, Rose.

Rose: Thank you for having me.

Host: Let's get right into it. You have a match against RIA on Night 1. How are you preparing for that battle?

Rose: I approach each match with the same meticulous preparation. I study my opponent, devise a strategy, and train relentlessly with my sparring partners. But when the bell rings, it's all about instinct and survival.

Host: Do you have any new strategies or tactics going into Culture Shock to claim your first win in PRIME?

Rose: Thanks for the reminder. Fixating on it too much is a one-way ticket to destruction. You either play it safe and lose or take too many risks and get taken down instantly. I refuse to let it consume me. One mistake can cost everything, so I focus on my actions in the ring and correcting any errors.

Host: Your feud with RIA has escalated since ReVival 43. What's your issue with her?

Rose: She preaches non-violence but ignores her friends’ brutal attacks, like Jared Sykes using a forklift as a weapon and Brandon Youngblood's loss of control. She turns a blind eye when it suits her, playing the hero only when it benefits her.

Host: You clearly have strong opinions about RIA.

Rose: I tried to avoid her, but she kept inserting herself into my business. She thinks everyone has the same chances because of her friends, but after my husband died, no one reached out to help me. Now, she wants to lecture me about being a better person. It's fake and empty.

Host: What concerns you the most about facing RIA tomorrow night?

Rose: RIA is a fierce competitor; there’s no doubt about that. She proved it against Gamble. But under pressure, she crumbles and retreats. Despite being a fighter, she is also a quitter at heart. If I keep pushing, she will give up—it's just who she truly is.

Host: Those are some harsh words. There is no love lost between you two.

Rose: Honestly, RIA means nothing to me. I never thought about her before she entered my life, and after our match at Culture Shock, I won't waste another breath on her. But let's review the facts, there have been three versions of RIA: twisted and deranged when PRIME returned, slightly improved after disappearing for months, and now this shiny facade. How long will it last? Will we see a heartbroken RIA Swift in a few months? She preaches violence isn't the answer because her friends won't stick around if she becomes that version again. She's envious and afraid, knowing she will revert before long.

Host: Rose--

Rose: I'm not done yet. I'm sick of the constant praise for RIA's superficial transformations. It's all a facade, a desperate attempt to fit in with others' expectations. Would she even be here at Culture Shock if not for me? I highly doubt it. The last time she was at a major event was Colossus 2022 - and now she's using me as her ticket to something bigger. She wants this Respect Match, but how can I respect someone who hasn't earned it? Your act doesn't fool me, RIA. And as they say, believe them when someone shows you who they are. I believe you, RIA - you are exactly who you have shown yourself to be—an afterthought.

Host: We're short on time, but I'm glad RIA isn't here because things would get heated. Culture Shock will be live on Sky Sports from Millennium Stadium for two nights. Thanks, Rose. We're excited about your match with RIA. Let's take a break and be right back!