Brigitte Hargrove finished the final turn of the braid in her raven hair not a moment too soon. She sat poised in front of a mirror propped up near the gorilla position, treating the chaotic, industrial backstage area as if it were her private vanity at her home estate. She smoothed a stray lock behind her ear, her brown eyes locking with her own reflection while she pointedly ignored the stagehand who stuck his head around the corner. He uttered something about forty-five seconds until her cue. Brigitte didn't even blink. She would make his time, of course, and apparently, the man grasped the notion. He stared at her frozen form for a few seconds longer before retreating into the shadows, leaving her to her ritual.
She took a finger, checking the sharp line of her eyeliner, before letting her gaze drift down her figure in the glass. The gear she had chosen for the evening was a masterclass in weaponized allure. The violet and obsidian leotard clung to her torso like a second skin, the metallic sheen catching the low light, while the high-cut hips left the terrified power of her thighs on full display. A red cord trailed down toward the deep plunge of her neckline. Polished, purple-hued metallic boots rose to her mid-thighs, framing the very instruments she planned to use to dismantle her opponent.
She feared no opponent, but she believed she had extra time to spend on vanity tonight. Management had placed a man across from her - Bryan Clark. He would undoubtedly prove warm-blooded enough to become enamored at the first sight of her, like most of the simple creatures in LAW, but more importantly, he was young. Youth meant foolishness. It meant bravado without the scar tissue to back it up. Brigitte had a track record of eating up that kind of foolishness and spitting it out with elegant ease. Having a functioning mind - unlike the majority of the brutes that populated the roster - put her leagues ahead of the competition before physicality even factored into the equation. Combine that with her body, and well, few stood much of a chance. She admired that body one last time, offering her reflection a cool look of satisfaction, before leaving the mirror with exactly fifteen seconds to spare. She walked through gorilla as if she held the deed to the building, expecting the crew to part for her. They did.
Her music began to pound through the arena speakers, heralding her arrival. Brigitte emerged onto the stage, but she didn't rush. She stopped at the center, turning her back to the crowd first to give them a view of her sculpted form, glancing over her shoulder with a look of heavy-lidded, untouchable disdain. She snapped her head forward, flipping her braid, and began her descent.
On the way down the ramp, she mentally noted the worst part of this level of success. For all that these people placed her on a high pedestal with their fanfare and blind lust, up close, they were revolting. She walked a tightrope down the middle of the ramp to avoid their hands, her nose wrinkling imperceptibly at their proximity. Let them know their place - her, raised high by their addiction to her talents; them, kept at a distance in the dark. That was the natural order of things.
She reached the ring and paused at the stairs, wiping her boots on the apron as if checking for dust before ascending. She stepped through the ropes with a fluid, feline grace, ensuring every eye remained on her, before moving to her corner. Brigitte turned, gripping the top rope, and hoisted her leg up to rest her ankle on the turnbuckle. She leaned into the stretch, showcasing the flexibility and power of her long, muscular legs to the cameras, warming up the weapons that would end the night.
Two out of three falls. That meant she would have the pleasure of breaking this foolish boy not once, but twice. She imagined the look on his face when the air left his lungs, the silence of the crowd as horror set in, and the images that would plaster the internet by morning - him, crushed and helpless. That, she thought, would be pleasing. A genuine, cruel smile touched her lips as she lowered her leg and turned to await her victim.
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