To Purge (Cynthia Rose Promo #2 for Ch. 30)

(The camera opens on Cynthia Rose sitting in the corner of a training ring within the confines of Eden.  She stares ahead at the other corner, a stoic look in her face as she begins to lace up her boots.)

"So...I don't have your respect.  That's fine, Colt.  That's just peachy keen with me.  You lost mine the moment your manager snagged my foot and saved you from losing face against this green rookie who doesn't understand how the business works, your words not mine.  I'm sick of the condescending big brother talk coming from you.  Despite constantly being compared to her, I'm not Lillie Saint, and ohmigosh I couldn't be happier for it considering how you treat her lately.  It's funny that you can say what you say about me being handed opportunities because of who I am instead of what I've done while you choose to continue to stand next to Kimberly Chase, a woman whose cost me everything that I've worked for since stepping into a Wrestleworld ring.  Say what you want about me getting a shot at your title as early as I did, but if you go back you can go ahead and blame that on her as well.  Besides, I earned that World Cup.  No one handed it to me, no one shook my hand and congratulated me for the victory after the match, and despite clearing four fields of contenders in every single Architect division, I still got side eyed and back sass from the likes of you who, what?, think I don't deserve it?  I didn't bear mace anyone to eliminate them.  I didn't capitalize on the work of others to get my licks in.  I chipped tooth and nail just to hang on and win that cup, only for someone whose only here because of you to rob me both literally and figuratively blind.  You think I don't know this business?  You don't think I know how hard it can be to walk the straight and narrow after years of sitting front row and watching men target my aunt and uncle with malicious intent?  You don't think I came to Wrestleworld with the exact idea of how things would go for me, someone who wishes to wrestle instead of fight, and earn her place after seeing Tony Rolland and Andrew Sanders  attacked and demolished by the very people who run this company over and over again every single time they got ahead?"

(Cynthia's brow furrows with a mixture of anger and confusion as her fingers loop her boot strings in a tight bow.)

"It wouldn't bug me if you didn't talk out of both sides of your mouth.  You go on social media and say you've watched my tapes and are impressed with what I'm capable of, and then you go and run the other side of your mouth off to your friends about how I haven't earned it, how I don't deserve it.  You're a coward, Colt Montoya.  You hedge your bets, you ride the fences, and you fail to pick a side when you could step in and stop someone from taking liberties against a person that you claim to respect as a clean fighting competitor.  Do you even know who you are anymore? I wonder.  Your sister seems as confounded by your actions as I am.  You chose Kim over her too, and that's messed up.  What's all the more hilarious is that you're sitting her complaining about me taking up air time fighting her because I stood up for myself when you're not enough of a man to step up to challengers until after they've been blinded twice in incidents that you could've prevented from happening if you had stepped in at a less demeaning and embarrassing time than the spot you picked to finally grow a conscience.  You could've asked for this rematch months ago after you learned that Kim saved you from defeat, but you didn't want to admit that the pretty new blonde girl got the best of you so you play white knight instead.  I don't need a white knight, Colt.  There's a reason why Percy doesn't do anything at ringside beside shouting encouragement and plays, even when he sees Kimberly do the things she does to me with illegal objects.  He knows if he ever threw in the towel, got involved, or even earned me a win with his indirect interference that I'd kick him to the curb because I have standards.  What about you? You go around calling people paper champ when you know you didn't beat me to retain that title; Kimberly Chase did."

(Cynthia rolls out of the ring and starts walking toward the camera, her eyes averted and her expression lacking any form of enthusiasm.  Just as she makes it to the exit, she stops and turns.  The camera focuses in on what's caught her attention: a speed bag hanging just next to the door.)

"I've taken the hardest path possible as a wrestler just to compensate for whatever opportunities my blood line might afford me.  I hit no one, I go into every match trying to win via wrestling holds instead of looking to end someone's career.  Even against Kim, a walking armory of foreign objects, I took her to the mat and tried my best to beat her without harming a singular folicle of hair on her head.  I could've stretched her, I could've bashed her head into cages, and I could've lain her out with a single punch but I didn't.  Do you know why? Because despite her taunting, her attempts to embarrass me, or her straight up acts of assault with concealed weapons, I still don't want to be responsible for putting someone in a hospital.  I've shown you the same level of restraint too Colt, and I bested you while doing so.  You're not afraid of me because I'm the future.  You're afraid of me because I'm the now.  I'm the present day contender to your throne that could pin you on any given night and take that title away from you by out-wrestling you.  I'm that one victory that you didn't earn, and that eats you up inside.  You haven't lost your love for wrestling because of neglect from bookers, aggression from contenders, or having to watch your sister go through the same; you lost your love for wrestling because you realize that there's a chance that you're not the best at it anymore.  That's sad to me, Colt.  It's sad because I'm not going to pin the best version of Colt Montoya to win that title.  I haven't learned anything from our encounters outside of finding out that it's true what people say; you shouldn't meet your heroes.  They always disappoint you.  But what do you care about some green bean new to the scene not being impressed by Colt Montoya? You don't respect me.  I don't deserve anything that I have earned.  I'm only here because I'm someone's niece, right? Then why did you give me another chance to prove you wrong?"

(Cynthia lets out a primal grunt as she slams her fist into the speed bag, sending it flying off of it's hook with one point precision overhand and crashing into the gymnasium wall.  She stands seething with horror as she stares at her trembling fist with a curl of a surprised smile threatening to creep up on either side of her gaping mouth.)

"Do you even believe the lies that you tell yourself?  You didn't challenge me because you felt sorry for me, that much is clear now.  You obviously have talked yourself into believing that I don't deserve this title shot, so either you think this is going to be a night off for you or you want to correct the near loss that you suffered at my hand.  Which is it? A big part of me hopes there's still a sliver of integrity in Colt Montoya that means the latter is true...not because I'm holding out hope for a former hero to regain a measure of respect from me.  That ship has sailed, no I want it because I want to beat that motivated Colt Montoya, the one who earned 15 of the 16 victories that he so proudly touts.  I want to deliver the same fate unto you that you passively watched befall me when Kimberly Chase won you our last match.  I want to crush that motivation the same way she crushed mine and take  the belt from around your waist."

(Cynthia calmly walks across the gymnasium and gently picks up the speed bag with both hands.  Slowly she makes her way back across the gym, acting as if she's carrying a delicate vase before hanging it back up on it's hook.)

"...and I used to be such a nice girl..."

(Cynthia smiles warily before walking under the speed bag and opening up the gym's exit.  She stop in the doorway and turns to look at the speed bag hanging above her shoulder.  She looks down, red faced as she chuckles at a private joke in her own mind.  She shakes her head, as if trying to erase the thought.)

"...and I still am, Colt."

(Cynthia looks up and winks at the camera, before turning back into the gym and hopping up and popping the speed bag one last time with a flying overhead hook that causes the bag to go sailing across the gym once more.  She turns back toward the door, flipping the light switch off as she heads out and the camera fades to black.)