Jessica bounced from one foot to the other as she sent punch after punch slicing through the air at an enemy who was simply not there. At least, not in a physical sense. As much as she would have liked to lay a smackdown on the outsize expectations that she had put on herself or the rising pressure that she always felt to perform, it was only here in that locker room. And it was only her who put on her tight black leggings one at a time and that black top of hers. It would have been nice if someone could come in and lace up her black and gold boots, but just like everything else, the only one who could do that was Jessica.
Just like winning the match.
Jessica left the locker room for the hallway, marching down with purpose in her stride. The Violent Violet knew little of her opponent. The tape on her was fairly limited but she could glean a few things here and there. The woman did not come out of a lot of matches looking like a world beater, a fact that Jessica was going to mercilessly exploit. Jessica was lean and mean. The Violent Violet planned to come out of the gates demonstrating overwhelming force.
But everyone had a plan until they got punched in the face.
Jessica tried to put that thought aside as she stood at the precipice of the arena. She cracked her neck as the last bit of loosening up, and waited for her intro music to hit the stage. Jessica's music blared over the loudspeakers and Jessica stepped out to a hearty mix of boos and silence.
She marched down to the ring with her head held high, and slipped under the bottom rope. Once she was there, she wheeled around and stood pat in the center of the squared circle.
Time to see what color this girl bleeds, she thought.
