Doors of Non-Doom, Steel Not Included

Why am I here?

Okay, lemme expand on that question. This ain't some grand, overarchin’ inquiry bout the meanin’ of life or the existence of a god or anythin' like that. I'm askin’ bout me specifically. In this fractured mind a number of personalities share, why am I here? Why did I come to be? What's my purpose?

It was dark at first. Like, I thought I was the only one here for a minute. I had some stuff I already knew; my name. What had happened recently. But the deeper past? That was damn near blank. It was as time passed that a voice I didn't know started filling in details for me. I probably shouldn'ta listened, but I guess I'm too trustin’ for my own good.

Luckily for me, the voice belonged to Lockhart. Any time somethin' I wasn't familiar with got brought up, she would tell me bout it. Eventually, another voice showed up whenever things started gettin' nasty or heated. That was Nightshade. Unlike Lockhart, I don't think she was tellin’ me stuff to help. Rather, I think she wanted to get some anger out. She ain't lackin’ in that department, truth be told.

But yeah, this question’s been buggin’ me for awhile. I think it's bout time I find some answers. I know exactly where to start. Hopefully, she opens up and is honest with me. Ain't gonna hurt to ask either way.

Time is a funny thing. A weird, unpredictable, funny thing. I was there with Miss Ria when she signed her new PRIME contract back in January. There wasn't much negotiating done. Miss Ria and Miss Lindsay have been friends for a while, after all. I think Miss Ria just really wanted to get back in the ring again. I'm pretty sure Miss Lindsay isn't the type to take advantage of friends, so it was a fair deal.

I could feel the butterflies in my stomach; not the fun kind I get when Nate gives me that dreamy smile. These ones were like one of those moshy pit things people do at punk rock concerts. I know trying to tell Miss Ria to take it easy would be a waste of time. I just didn't want anything bad to happen to her again. It had only been a few months since she recovered.

I have to admit that I feel guilty. She was different after she came out of the coma. It wasn't bad different… She was being way nicer to me than she had before. She didn't demand the fancy water with the little round ice cube in a golden goblet anymore. So that made my job easier! Being a bodyguard is tough work sometimes. But that didn't seem to be how things were working anymore.

She treated me like a friend. I would say she even treated me like an equal, but it went beyond that. She was caring, excessively so at times. Maybe she was trying to make up for before, when she hired me in the first place? I can't say for sure what happened, but it was nice. She was nice. I stayed around her out of obligation initially, but I actually wanted to be around her after the shift.

That's probably why I feel this shame. We don't hang out much now. I spend a lot of time with Nate. Miss Ria is wrestling and now, she's back and forth to meet with Angel. I'm happy they're together. I felt terrible when Mister Sid left. Miss Ria… She wasn't bright and happy like she used to be. But Angel seems like she's bringing that back out of her. She deserves to be happy. Even if Miss Ria gets a bit bonkers, she treats her friends so well…

We're making dinner together. We used to do this a lot. Maybe it's kind of a comfort activity for us? Is that a thing? Like people have emotional support animals, are emotional support activities a thing? Is that too much of an abstract concept for it to be acceptable? Do we have to petition to Merriam-Webster for it to become a nationwide phenomena?! As long as it doesn't lead to any more rocks with my name on them…

I watch her peel and chop carrots out of the corner of my eye while we chat a little. I wonder how many more of these moments we'll have?

“You set a date yet?”

That cheeky grin of hers… The way she can read our situations… I know I won't ever fully lose this stuff, but it still kinda makes me sad, you know? Does that make me selfish? Am I a bad friend?

“Oh come on, Miss Ria. You know it's not like that!”

While that is somewhat true, I think I might have said it more to calm my own mind. Gotta change the subject.

“What about you and Angel? Things seem like they are going pretty well for you two.”

Oh crud, did that come off as deflecting? Miss Ria is more perceptive than some people want to give her credit for. Maybe she won't hold it against me? The way she chuckled and grinned tells me she caught on. Shoot!

“Yeah, we're totally good. We'll probably be living together in two months. Least that's what the stereotypes tell me.”

Oh thank goodness, she wasn't upset. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Miss Ria usually has a lot of patience towards me. I should be honest. We've been honest with each other for over a year now. She won't judge me. I know she won't.

“So I don't think Nate and I are there yet… But we might be close to the next step.”

I let that hang in the air. I can feel my chest tightening. What if she gets mad? What if she's hurt? I don't want either of those things to happen to her! I just want us both to be happy. She carefully pushes the carrot shreds aside into a somewhat neat pile. This is it… What will she say?

“Good. You deserve that, Kohime. I'm happy for you.”

Her voice is soft, like creamy butter on a warm roll. I think I can hear the slightest hint of sadness in there, but it's mostly love. I have to be honest… I don’t think I would be here without Miss Ria. What I mean is I probably would have gone back to Japan. I've enjoyed my time in America, but that’s mostly because of the people I’ve met. I grabbed some chicken out of the fridge to start cubing.

“So it's official, right? Your match with Mr. O’Neill?”

I had to change the subject again. I'm not ready to have this talk. From her tone of voice and the way her posture changed, I don't think Miss Ria is ready either. I can be perceptive sometimes too! I know this match is important to her. Mr. O'Neill and Miss Ria are pretty decent friends now. He doesn't seem like a dirty friend stealer, so it should be okay.

“Yep… I don't think I've had a high pressure match with a friend like this in a bit. Maybe Anna in SHOOT a few months ago? Even then, that whole situation now… Anyway, yeah. Biggest show of the year. A friend. A guy I drew with in our first meeting. Pressure fuckin’ cooker might not be turned up full blast, but it's up there.”

I dump the chicken into a skillet, along with some oil. You'd think Miss Ria would be able to relate to the chicken. But only the chicken is sweating. Miss Ria looks as cool as the cucumber she's now cutting. I don't know how she does it. Any time I've wrestled or even talked about it, I can't stay calm. How is she so relaxed?

“You don't sound nervous at all. I've always envied that about you, Miss Ria.”

She rolled her neck left, then right. It cracked at least once, I'm not sure in which direction. I don't want to burn this chicken, but I want to cook it well. No food poisoning here!

“I am. Shit, ‘Hime, I'm nervous before every match! But sometimes, it's nervous anticipation. For Seány? It'll probably be somewhere in between. I really wanna see what he can do, his best. I wanna give that in return. That's where I'm on edge right now; I want him and the world to see it. I wanna shine on that big stage and I want him to shine with me.”

It's easy to forget how sweet Miss Ria can be sometimes between the crude jokes and bizarre comebacks. She's even been nice to people I'm not sure entirely deserved it. But people have said the same thing about me. Maybe that's part of why we get along now. Deep down under everything, we just want it all to be okay.

Doors catty-corner from each other lined a dark hallway. A standard white sign with red lighted lettering spelled out ‘EXIT’ above a plain gray door. Each door was bathed in a soft glow, though the source was obscure, unseen. A perplexing apartment complex. The mental projection that the various sides of Ria Lockhart shared within her mind.

In the hallway at the moment was RIA. She had been here many a time. Typically, she only concerned herself with three doors. There was one that had her main focus at the moment, but that didn't mean others didn't occasionally draw her interest. Even though she had a specific goal in mind with this visit, her curiosity looked to be teaming with her ADHD to draw things out.

The first door off to the right; golden yellow with black trim. A transgender pride flag occupied a section of the middle of the wooden gate. This place was occupied by Ria Lockhart. This location was the one she planned to conduct some personal business in. There was a door opposite to the left, another duo further down, then two more. The last two, RIA was familiar with.

The left one was all black. The door, the frame, everything was painted in darkness. Everything except the doorknob, anyway, which was a purple-gray skull. The abode of Ria Nightshade. Across the hall was a door covered in a rainbow, with white trim. The handle, a berry that matched the door in color. This, obviously, was the home of our heroine. That does leave a question; who do the other three places belong to? A minor bit of investigation was due.

The entrance across from Lockhart; black in color, much like Nightshade’s. The trim was lime green, a tint that almost appeared to glow. The knob’s color matched the frame. One could be forgiven for thinking the opener might give them radiation poisoning if it were to be touched. This place… who did it belong to?

The next door on the right was… strange. The door and frame were an off-white color. Beige? Cream? Eggshe- You know what? Not that one. Yes, the shade was nondescript. One thing on the door wasn't; a huge banana decal. Again, RIA had no idea what to make of this. Why a banana? There had to be some reason, right?

The entrance across the hall was very much the opposite. Metallic gold covered everything. A black silhouette of a curvy woman broke up the brightness. It was gaudy, practically crying out for attention. Another mystery. Another topic to address with the alpha. RIA turned and headed back to the first door. After a polite knock, she entered.

Ria Lockhart was lounging on the bed in the room, head propped up on a bent elbow, some 80s horror movie on a TV sitting on a basic entertainment stand. Her eyes slid to the side upon the entry of her rainbow counterpart.

“Hey Rainbow.” Lockhart greeted plainly. RIA closed the door behind her and took a seat in a standard job black computer chair, the kind you buy as a fill-in before getting something better. “What's up?”

The Psychoberry sat in silence briefly, eyes cast downward. She shifted a bit in the seat before raising her gaze up to meet Lockhart.

“Why am I here?” She asked softly. The Steel Hart cocked an eyebrow upward before pushing herself into a sitting position, legs crossing over each other.

“How do you mean that?” Lockhart replied. There were a number of ways she could answer this inquiry, but she wasn't about to do so without some context. She knew better. RIA shifted again, sitting a bit more upright.

“Like, what led to me?” The Rainbow Riot asked. “I know what we all are. There has to be a reason I was created, why I came to be. What was it? What am I?”

A heavy, serious question. It was unexpected, the level of deepness not one RIA usually dipped into. The OG Ria took a deep inhale.

“Well… You know what led to you, technically. Weakness and poor choices.” Lockhart stated of the overdose back in 2023. “You… I think you were my response to everything; the damage I had caused my friends and family, trying to salvage our career, just fixing us in general… You were the rainbow in the darkness of our soul.”

RIA glanced down at the floor once more, exerting what willpower she could to keep her cheeks from matching the pink in her hair.

“You had a lot on your shoulders initially.” Lockhart continued. “I like to think you were the best parts of me. Kind, goofy, confident without straying into arrogance. I know it's been hard for you sometimes. I'm sorry I haven't been as supportive as I could be, cuz you honestly saved us, saved me. So thank you.”

The Psychoberry couldn't stop herself from smiling shyly. To her, this shouldn't be a big deal. This shouldn't matter, being complimented like this. But it did. Validation can come in different flavors. This current taste was sweet, savory… A chorus of zest that tickled every pleasant receptor RIA had. She took a moment to recalibrate before speaking.

“I mean, I'm just doin’ my thing…” The bashful Rainbow Riot replied. “I'm just tryin' to have fun. I want everyone to have fun. The world might suck, but that don't mean I can't make my little crappy slice of it a joy to be a part of.”

A soft smile from Lockhart. The woman rarely smiled. Getting a grin from her usually meant one of two things; you done fucked up or you've touched her heart. Obviously, this was the latter.

“But, like, ya been super supportive. I know ya feel guilty bout this whole mess, but don't downplay the effect you've had on me. Ya ain't like Nightshade, bein' all dismissive and pissy. We got each other's backs, least more than that bitch does.”

Lockhart chuckled and smirked again. It had been awhile; awhile since she had a longer form conversation with someone. Awhile since these two had a one on one conversation. It wouldn't instantly heal her mental and emotional wounds, but it might at least start the process. RIA did a light spin in the office chair.

“So these other doors…” The Psychoberry’s words inched up to an uncomfortable line. The little grin on the Steel Hart’s mug evaporated, stoicism appearing in its place.

“Which ones do you wanna know about?” Lockhart asked, trying to mask her apprehension with cool indifference. RIA stopped her rotation and focused on the alpha.

“The black and green one, the one with the banana and the gold one.” RIA answered bluntly. Lockhart sighed.

“Where do I even start? The door with the green… I haven't been in there in while.” Ria said. “I dunno if Nigh… I dunno if anyone's in there anymore. The banana door; that's a whole freaking stupid situation. I'll cover it later, but seriously, it's really fucking stupid. And finally, the gold door…”

Lockhart sighed and hung her head. The forthrightness she had been showing had apparently dried up. RIA scuffled her feet, dragging the office chair over to the OG. A hand found its way to Lockhart’s knee with a feather light touch. Up her sight line went, cold blue-gray eyes meeting with vibrant rainbow irises.

“You can tell me.” The Psychoberry assured Lockhart. “You've been on my side. You've had my back. I got yours. Whatever this is, we're in it together.”

Another sigh was followed by a nervous nod. Ria relaxed her posture, sinking slightly from the rigid position she wasn't even aware she had taken. Their eyes met once again.

“Behind that door is one of my biggest mistakes.” Lockhart lamented. “A reminder of selfishness, what I could be if I ever fully let coldness consume my heart. But there's something I've learned; I can't just delete my fuck-ups. You guys aren't just digital files that I can throw into the recycling bin whenever. There's consequences to me not controlling my emotions.”

RIA nodded. It felt like the air in the room had suddenly pulled in any mass it could. A humidity just short of choking levels. She still wanted answers. This atmosphere wouldn't stop her.

“What is it?” The pointed question came from the Technicolor Comforter of Wrestling. Lockhart hesitated momentarily.

“She's why you're here.” OG Ria finally admitted. “You and her are opposite sides of the same coin. The yin to your yang. There's still similarities there, of course. We all have them. But you were made to be her counterbalance. The fix to the mess she made.”

RIA’s head bobbed up and down gently. She slowly pulled her hand back and hummed. After some brief contemplation, the Psychoberry leaned prominently, forearms resting on her thighs.

“Do all of us have opposites? Or is it just me and this person?”

The Steel Hart paused, a subtle frown sliding across her lips. Her arms crossed on her chest with a huff.

“Yes and no?” Lockhart cautiously replied. “You and her are. Nightshade… might have one. I can't say for sure.”

The frown deepened. It lacked anger, more melancholy in nature.

“I'll be honest, I've been afraid. A coward. I haven't gone to those rooms in a long time, as I said. I'm not sure I'm ready to face what I might find. I dunno if I can handle it.”

“What about me?” RIA was quick to suggest. “Am I allowed to go in them? I wanna understand more.”

Lockhart's gaze was weary. She flopped onto her back on the bed, looking up to the ceiling.

“Telling you no would be a waste, cuz I know you. Your curiosity is gonna get the better of you. Just… be careful?”

RIA nodded as she stood up from the chair. She strided over to the bed and playfully ruffled Ria’s hair.

“I got this. Don't you worry none.” The Psychoberry said with confidence. Out of the room she went. The question; which door? Where to start? She stood in the hallway and considered her options.

Welp, here we are, Seány. Kinda crazy to think about it. Biggest show of the year. You missed it last year, we ain't been on one since 2022. Lockhart picked up a win against Sage Pontiff in a match most people said she'd lose. Guess that's somethin’ I gotta work on inheritin’ from her; the ability to pull off the big upset. 

My confidence ain't at a high right now, dude. Feels like every test I been given lately, I failed; Kerry, The Bandits, Rob Williams, Wilhelm Kael, even you… Went from hot to ice cold in a hurry. So yeah, not feelin’ like a world beater at the moment. But the thing is that I'm nothin' if not stubborn. Even if the horse kicks me after I fall off, I'm still eventually gonna try to climb back up on that fucker!

You want my best. You want this match to be a big defining moment for both of us. I dig that in a major way! I don't wanna just give that to you… I have to. I have to for you, for me and for everyone that believes in me. I might not win. This match might not be seeped in hatred and bile, but that don't make it any less important. If anything, us bein’ close makes it matter that much more to me. 

You'll get my everythin’, Seán. My blood, my sweat, my tears, any damn cliche I can give to make it clear I might need help walking away from the ring after this. As much as I wanna lift you up, because you fuckin’ deserve that, I gotta lift myself even higher. I'm gonna end the year on a high note; I'll shake your hand and give ya a genuine hug after, but I'm gettin' my hand raised at the end. See ya soon, buddy. Let's tear the fuckin' roof off!