Post by Amelia Hearts on Feb 8, 2021 22:29:49 GMT -5
Dear Harry,
Well. The last couple weeks have sucked major ass. Due in no small part to Portia and I losing the finals of that tag tourney.
No. Fuck that. I lost that match for us. I let myself down. I let Portia down. I let fuckin everyone down. I let everyone down aside from the two asshats I wanted to disappoint. Somehow I gave them exactly what they wanted. It makes me fuckin sick.
Maybe that’s why I missed Sin last week. Maybe that’s why I spent all of last week alone in my shitty apartment. I don’t know, to be honest.
I know, Har, I know. It’s not good to hide from your problems, you don’t have to lecture me. But it’s just what I do. I turn my phone off and wallow in self-loathing for a while and drown my feelings in whiskey. So I guess it’s not much different than any other day off. When I eventually turn my phone back on, I see worried messages from the girls, bosslady, and Nidia. But all that tells me is that I managed to fuck up and disappoint even more people. One of the only things I’m consistently good at I guess.
But hey! It’s not all doom and gloom from the Hearts camp for once! Sure, I managed to lose twice in as many days, and my murderer dad is suddenly trying to get into contact with me trying to mend the bridge he fuckin nuked a longass time ago, but I’m happy to report some good has come from this mess of a fortnight.
Harry, I’m not going to mince words here. I’ve been alone for a long fuckin time now, all by my own doing. I’m in a band with three awesome women who try their damndest to get me out of my shell but I always push them away. I have coworkers trying to get close to me by being as nice as they possibly can be but I push them away too. I have protective walls built up around me made out of graphene.
So… imagine my surprise when someone managed to break through.
Nidia is about as stubborn and hardheaded as I am. The only difference is she’s a lot more outgoing, in your face, and forceful. She would not leave me alone until we agreed to meet. And… when we did… I felt something I never thought I could feel…
Love.
This girl somehow got me to love her. And trust me, I didn’t make it easy on her. You know I never make it easy, but she fuckin did it. Nidia just fuckin gets me. She’s patient, she’s careful, and she puts up with my immense amounts of bitchiness. And… I’m so happy she puts up with me. Because I’ve been so fuckin alone for like, a decade. I’ve pushed so many people away but she didn’t let me push her away. She dug in her heels and pushed back until she worked her way into my heart and it feels so fuckin good.
She makes me feel good and strong. She makes me feel… happy. Genuinely fuckin happy, Harry. I never thought I could feel that way about another person. Not after Charlie died. But goddammit Nidia makes me feel like a real fuckin human again.
That’s why I need to get the fuck back up. I need to get back on the fucking horse and come back stronger. Because I need to prove to her that I’m not a fuckin failure. Prove to her that I’m not going to let a couple losses fuck with me up enough to get me to quit. Show her that I’m going to get up after losing and beat the ever lovin shit out of the bitch I’m supposed to share a ring with this week.
I never thought I’d say this, Har, but I’m not just fighting for me anymore. I’m fighting for someone else. I’m fighting for Nidia. Can you fuckin believe that?? Cause I sure as hell can’t. I gotta admit, H, I’m smiling just fuckin thinking about it.
Oh. But don’t worry, my guy! You’re still my number one. I’d never just toss you to the side. It’s still me and you till the end, Har. Thanks for listening to me bitch about losing as well as gush over my girlfriend. You’re the real MVP. Hopefully next time we speak, I’ll be talking to you as a winner once again.
But until then, Harry, take care of yourself.
Signed,
AH
Well. The last couple weeks have sucked major ass. Due in no small part to Portia and I losing the finals of that tag tourney.
No. Fuck that. I lost that match for us. I let myself down. I let Portia down. I let fuckin everyone down. I let everyone down aside from the two asshats I wanted to disappoint. Somehow I gave them exactly what they wanted. It makes me fuckin sick.
Maybe that’s why I missed Sin last week. Maybe that’s why I spent all of last week alone in my shitty apartment. I don’t know, to be honest.
I know, Har, I know. It’s not good to hide from your problems, you don’t have to lecture me. But it’s just what I do. I turn my phone off and wallow in self-loathing for a while and drown my feelings in whiskey. So I guess it’s not much different than any other day off. When I eventually turn my phone back on, I see worried messages from the girls, bosslady, and Nidia. But all that tells me is that I managed to fuck up and disappoint even more people. One of the only things I’m consistently good at I guess.
But hey! It’s not all doom and gloom from the Hearts camp for once! Sure, I managed to lose twice in as many days, and my murderer dad is suddenly trying to get into contact with me trying to mend the bridge he fuckin nuked a longass time ago, but I’m happy to report some good has come from this mess of a fortnight.
Harry, I’m not going to mince words here. I’ve been alone for a long fuckin time now, all by my own doing. I’m in a band with three awesome women who try their damndest to get me out of my shell but I always push them away. I have coworkers trying to get close to me by being as nice as they possibly can be but I push them away too. I have protective walls built up around me made out of graphene.
So… imagine my surprise when someone managed to break through.
Nidia is about as stubborn and hardheaded as I am. The only difference is she’s a lot more outgoing, in your face, and forceful. She would not leave me alone until we agreed to meet. And… when we did… I felt something I never thought I could feel…
Love.
This girl somehow got me to love her. And trust me, I didn’t make it easy on her. You know I never make it easy, but she fuckin did it. Nidia just fuckin gets me. She’s patient, she’s careful, and she puts up with my immense amounts of bitchiness. And… I’m so happy she puts up with me. Because I’ve been so fuckin alone for like, a decade. I’ve pushed so many people away but she didn’t let me push her away. She dug in her heels and pushed back until she worked her way into my heart and it feels so fuckin good.
She makes me feel good and strong. She makes me feel… happy. Genuinely fuckin happy, Harry. I never thought I could feel that way about another person. Not after Charlie died. But goddammit Nidia makes me feel like a real fuckin human again.
That’s why I need to get the fuck back up. I need to get back on the fucking horse and come back stronger. Because I need to prove to her that I’m not a fuckin failure. Prove to her that I’m not going to let a couple losses fuck with me up enough to get me to quit. Show her that I’m going to get up after losing and beat the ever lovin shit out of the bitch I’m supposed to share a ring with this week.
I never thought I’d say this, Har, but I’m not just fighting for me anymore. I’m fighting for someone else. I’m fighting for Nidia. Can you fuckin believe that?? Cause I sure as hell can’t. I gotta admit, H, I’m smiling just fuckin thinking about it.
Oh. But don’t worry, my guy! You’re still my number one. I’d never just toss you to the side. It’s still me and you till the end, Har. Thanks for listening to me bitch about losing as well as gush over my girlfriend. You’re the real MVP. Hopefully next time we speak, I’ll be talking to you as a winner once again.
But until then, Harry, take care of yourself.
Signed,
AH
We find Amelia Hearts sitting in her New York apartment, staring out the window at the busy Long Island streets. She’s dressed in black leggings, a red t-shirt with her logo on it, and a red flannel shirt over it. Her hair hangs freely down her back and she wears a content smile on her face. Probably the first real smile she’s been seen with since her career began.
Honestly, Cartier. I thought I saw the last of you when I put your ass through a table and drove you away from the Horrorcore scene.
Tell me, Cartier, be honest with me. Why did you run away from Horrorcore? Is it because you wanted more of a challenge? Wanted to compete against bigger and better talent? Think you’re too good for hardcore shit?
Or is it because you were scared? Because all that shit about wanting better competition is bullshit. Because it doesn’t get much better than the talent in this little corner of Revo One. I mean, sure, you took out a couple scrubs in that gauntlet match but when you got to me, a real threat? You lost. You got your ass kicked. You got embarassed. You faced off against me after talking all your bullshit and you lost. So what do you do? Do you dust yourself off and keep pushing for another shot? Hell nah! You fuckin run off and start going after the poor fucks I already beat looking for my sloppy seconds. You’re not successful, you’re not anything to get excited about. You’re just chasing after my scraps like a little fuckin dog.
Let me be the first to tell you, Cartier, you don’t look good going from Coyle to Way and back. You look fuckin directionless. You bounce from one big name to another in a desperate attempt to make a name for yourself. I would laugh if it wasn’t so fuckin sad. You’re so fuckin pathetic.
Amelia’s smile slowly falls to her usual scowl as she’s talking about her opponent.
I hope you’ve noticed how I’ve been talking to you using your name specifically, because that’s real fuckin important. See, I’ve noticed your shit talking has been a lot more reserved this time around as opposed to the last time we faced off. But when you did decide to run your mouth, you revealed that you still don’t know my fuckin name.
Now, you can say you pull that same tired gag because, as you’ve said, my name isn’t important”. But you want to know what I think? I don’t care because I’m going to tell you anyway. It’s because you don’t got any fuckin respect. Despite giving you more than you could handle the last time around, you still have this moronic notion that you’re better than me.
You think you’re so much better than everyone, in fact. You have such a big fuckin ego, you think your bigger than everyone, even the ones who beat that big ass raw. Y’know, people like me.
What I’m trying to say, Cartier, is… it’s fine to be confidant. Lord knows I’m one confidant bitch despite having no fuckin reason to be. But it’s a totally different thing to be obliviously confidant. Thinking you’re so much better than everyone else despite getting your fair share of ass kickings.
Amelia rolls her eyes.
Oh, and of course, don’t take this as me discrediting you. You’ve done a whole hell of a lot in this place. But you haven’t done anything that hasn’t been done before. You haven’t done shit that I haven’t done. I’ve beaten the same people you have. Actually, I’ve beaten more people than you have. Bigger people, stronger people. You think I’m impressed because you beat the big champ? I’ve done that too. Twice. I made it to the finals of a tournament you were too chickenshit to enter. I made it to the end of the hardcore heaven gauntlet. By beating you, in case you forgot again. And I would’ve won the whole thing if Derrick fuckin Vayden didn’t cost me the match. And you better be real fuckin aware, I’ll win the Horrorcore strap when I get my fuckin chance.
Everything you’ve done, I’ve also already done but better. You aren’t special. You ain’t shit. You haven’t done shit that hasn’t already been done. So you really need to shut the fuck up until you actually prove you’re worth all the hype because right now, from where I’m standing, you sure as shit haven’t.
But hey, I still got faith in you. I trust you’ll eventually be able to do what you think you can do. It may take you for-fuckin-ever, but you can do it! So hey, when you beat Miles, which is not hard at all, be sure to keep the strap warm for me. Cause I’ll have no bones about taking it off your hands. Because you can’t beat me. I know that, and real deep down, you know it too. It’s too fuckin bad you can’t avoid me this week like you have been in the time since Christmas Chaos.
You can keep believing you’re the victim of some conspiracy if you want. Keep thinking I sent people to beat your ass just to get an advantage if you want. But the fact of the matter is that’s how a fuckin gauntlet match works. You don’t have to go around making excuses for why you lost like a little bitchy sore loser.
Just promise me one thing, Cartier. If you think you got the guts. Promise me that you won’t blame a bullshit conspiracy you made up for being the reason you lost to me again. It’s unbecoming of a champion like the one you think you are. So please, when I beat you, don’t go crying to mama when you get your ass beat by me once again.
But until then, Cartier, do your best to learn my fuckin name. Because come time for Sin, I want you to know it was ol’ Amy Hearts who kicked you in your chest.
I’ll see you then, bitch.
Once Amelia finishes her speech, her cellphone begins to ring in her pocket. When she pulls it out, her smile returns. She answers the phone with a happy “Hey babe” as she walks out of the shot.