The Cold Open (for Killcarrion)

[Letta]

Somewhere in Tokyo...

The cityscape swept past beyond the car window as Laxia von Roswell sat perfectly upright in the back seat of a black sedan, scrolling through the tablet resting upon her lap. A promotional video introducing the facilities of the LAW Arena played across its screen. A vast training center lined with rows of state-of-the-art equipment. A wide range of amenities provided for the wrestlers. It was all remarkably organized and lavish, almost excessively so for a professional wrestling promotion. Yet what truly captured Laxia’s attention was a phrase displayed in gold lettering at the corner of the screen.

VIP Accommodation Package. A provision that the Roswell family’s legal representative had specifically negotiated into her contract. A private shower and sauna finished in marble. Personal storage space for her belongings. An individual dressing room complete with a nameplate bearing her name. And, of course, access to premium training facilities separated from those used by the general roster. After reviewing the information one final time, Laxia switched off the tablet and raised her head. “Everything I requested has been properly prepared, hasn’t it, Seb?” Sebastian glanced at his young mistress through the rearview mirror. “Yes, my lady. Your belongings will also be delivered at the requested time.” “Good.” With that brief reply, Laxia turned her gaze back toward the window. She had never once asked Sebastian why he remained at her side after the fall of her family. Perhaps his salary had stopped coming long ago. Most of the Roswell accounts had been frozen, and what remained of the family’s wealth was tied up in endless litigation and mounting debts. The estate, once bustling with servants and gardeners, was now occupied by Sebastian and only a handful of remaining staff. Perhaps it was loyalty born from years of service. Laxia had never felt the need to ask. “We have arrived.”

The black sedan came to a smooth stop before the main entrance of the LAW Arena. Laxia drew a quiet breath as she looked up at the towering building. This was more than her first day at a new workplace, it was the first step toward restoring the fallen Roswell name. Everything had to be perfect. Without hesitation, she entered the arena. The lobby was larger and busier than expected, filled with employees carrying documents and equipment while enormous screens displayed recent match highlights and promotional footage. Laxia surveyed the modern, well-kept facilities with measured approval. Though not entirely to her taste, they were impressive enough. She proceeded directly to the reception desk and greeted the receptionist with her most elegant, carefully practiced smile.

“Good morning. Laxia von Roswell.” She lifted her chin slightly. “There should be a private dressing room prepared under my name, along with a private shower, sauna, and the accompanying facilities.” The receptionist immediately began typing. “Ah, yes. Ms. Roswell. Please give me just a moment.” As the receptionist checked the monitor, their hands briefly paused and their expression tightened. Laxia noticed, but kept her courteous smile. “Everything has been confirmed. Here is your access card.” Accepting it, Laxia headed toward the corridor on the right, where the map had shown the premium facilities “Thank you. I will not require an escort.” With graceful, measured steps, she headed toward the VIP section. “Excuse me, Ms. Roswell…!” The receptionist’s urgent voice stopped her from behind. “That is not the correct way.” Laxia came to an abrupt halt. She briefly closed her eyes before slowly turning around. “Pardon...?” The receptionist awkwardly pointed across the lobby, toward a busy corridor marked by a large sign.

GENERAL LOCKER ROOMS.

“The facilities assigned to you are located in this direction.” Laxia silently stared toward the corridor the receptionist indicated. “The women’s communal dressing room is at the end of the hall. Your card will also grant you immediate access to the communal showers and the general training center.” Communal. The word seemed to drown out everything else. A shared dressing room. Shared showers. Equipment still slick with someone else’s perspiration. Her lips trembled almost imperceptibly, but only for a moment. Quickly regaining her composure, she let out a soft, restrained chuckle. “There appears to have been some sort of mistake.” She raised the access card slightly between her fingers before continuing in a calm and measured tone. “My contract explicitly grants me a private dressing room, separate shower facilities, and access to the premium training center. I am supposed to be using the facilities over there.” “Yes. That was how your accommodations were originally registered, but…” The receptionist glanced back at the monitor. “Certain conditions of your contract were reviewed, and the level of your assigned accommodations was subsequently changed. Your contract contains a clause permitting LAW to reallocate supplementary facilities according to operational or promotional necessity. More specifically, it can be found near the bottom of page seventeen of the supplemental agreement……”

Ever since the Roswell name had made the front pages, every “mistake” seemed to stem from the same cause. As the receptionist continued through the contract details, Laxia pressed a hand to her temple and raised the other to stop them. “That will be quite all right. There is no need to explain.” She exhaled slowly. She slowly exhaled. “Well… very well. Administrative mistakes do happen.” A smile returned to her lips, though it was noticeably thinner and more rigid than before. “My legal representative will be contacting you shortly. Until then, I will use the facilities originally prepared for me. My belongings should already be there.” As though the matter were obvious, Laxia turned her gaze toward the corridor leading into the VIP section. The furnishings, the Roswell-crested nameplate, the Italian marble shower room. Laxia had personally approved every detail. Surely it was all still there. Yet several unfamiliar potted plants and floral arrangements now stood beside the entrance, their petals still beaded with water. One of Laxia’s eyebrows twitched. She did not dislike flowers, but… I certainly do not remember ordering those. “Then, until this matter is resolved...” Laxia moved toward the VIP facilities, only for the receptionist to hurry forward and stop her once again.

“Um, about that…” The receptionist hesitated, glancing uneasily at the monitor. “Those facilities have already been given priority assignment to a newly signed wrestler.” Laxia’s smile froze upon her face. “……I beg your pardon?” “I truly am sorry, but the facilities have already been reassigned to someone else. A celebrity talent who has recently signed with LAW.” “A celebrity…?” Even Laxia could not fully conceal her disbelief. “She is not merely an ordinary new wrestler. LAW expects her signing to generate considerable publicity. Given her filming schedule and security requirements, management determined that private facilities would be essential...” “A famous personality, huh…” The words came out sharper than she intended. Her gaze drifted toward the VIP entrance—the flowers, the decorations, the dressing room that should have borne her name. All of it was now being used to welcome a stranger she had never even heard of.“Just how important could this person possibly be…?” Laxia slowly turned her gaze back toward the receptionist. Her refined smile remained, but her eyes had grown noticeably colder. “Important enough for LAW to overturn my contract simply to accommodate her...? Who, precisely, is she....?!” “I am afraid that is not something I am authorized to discuss…” Before the receptionist could say more, a commotion erupted outside the main entrance. Within moments, voices calling someone’s name and the rapid clicking of camera shutters spilled into the lobby. Employees and visitors alike turned toward the entrance. As the entire lobby began to stir, dozens of flashes burst beyond the glass doors. Laxia’s eyes narrowed. The automatic doors slid open. And slowly, she turned to look behind her...

[killcarrion]

Judith Lanster~...

"Look this way, Ms. Lanster!!!"
"One more shot, Ms. Lanster!!!"

"Ms. Lanster, what would you say are you chances of succeeding in the world of wrestling??!!"

"Ms. Lanster, any ideas on what title belt you'll be aiming for first??!!"

"Has LAW been accommodating towards your sudden career change, Ms. Lanster?"

"Judith, can you corroborate the rumors as to whom your dating??!!"

Swarming surges of scampering vivacity emanated from the automatic doors in the form of scurried paparazzi plying their trade with fluttered camera lens' with bellowed questions and pleading requests. Shattering whatever peaceable atmosphere the LAW lobby once held with onlookers inside the facility now fixated on the tempestuous chaos unfolding before their gawked eyes. The eye of this metaphorical storm bearing an emblazoned hairstyle with a charismatic flare brimming wherever she directed her oceanic iris', commanding the attention of any observers and all camera lens' as any leading lady should. Whatever security detail that the sparkling starlet arrived with having been instructed by the actress to remain outside once LAW security was deemed capable of ensuring her safety for the obviously scheduled publicity stunt currently transpiring. The maxim megastar seamlessly guiding the enthralled masses wherever she approached until Judith ceased her hypnotic waltz at her mark halfway inside the carpeted lobby to allow cameraman prime opportunities to capture images of the actress with the granite L.A.W. statue right behind her. Captivating poses taken with dazzled bystanders and even fellow wrestlers spellbound in transfixed awe with nothing more than a tilt of the starlet's head or faint uptick of a smirk, a veritable fashion show unfolding and drawing the curious attention of onlookers from outside the building now beginning to huddle around with cell phone cameras now recording the ostentatious scene unfolding.

"Alright, Alright...settle down. Let's take your questions one at a time, boys. Now, I'd say my chances of succeeding in wrestling match up with the odds of me scoring the Academy nomination for my latest movie role. Suffice to say, I wouldn't bet against me~...I suppose I'd have to see which title belt looks best with all of my other accessories before I make any commitments. No but in all seriousness, for now, I'm just focusing on putting on a stellar show once I step into the ring, first and foremost...And yes, LAW has gone above and beyond when it comes to cooperating with the transition. Although some of my trademark luck may have played a factor considering they just so happened to have an opening in their fabled VIP packages when my agent called to arrange everything. Something about old money and bad investments~...And as for that last question...Toodles, guys~..." Judith wiggled her fingers with an alluring smirk as she bid adieu to the interviewers before strolling over to the front desk. The starstruck receptionist concluding whatever business she had with Laxia by chucking the LAW brochure and folder of papers that was her welcome package straight at the blueblood's face before scampering over to the other side of the desk. Straightening out her shirt and offering a gleaming smile to the movie star whom she was humbly welcoming to the federation. Detailing the opulent amenities of the VIP package to Judith as several paparazzi started crowding around the megastar at the table and shoulder nudging Laxia out of the picture entirely...

[Letta]

Laxia watched as Judith Lanster made her entrance. The once-orderly lobby descended into chaos within seconds. Paparazzi and bystanders alike surged toward the actress like moths drawn helplessly to a flame. At the center of it all was a woman whose vivid, extravagant hair blazed like a roaring fire, effortlessly commanding the crowd as she made her way into the lobby. Laxia could scarcely comprehend the spectacle unfolding before her. When Judith finally stopped to pose for the cameras, Laxia exhaled sharply through her nose. She glanced around the lobby. Reporters, employees, visitors, even some of the nearby wrestler s appeared utterly spellbound by the woman’s every gesture. Apparently, Laxia was the only person present who remained immune.

As Judith’s impromptu interview began, Laxia shook her head and turned away. She had no interest in listening to some actress bask in the attention of an overeager audience. Instead, she returned her focus to the documents in her hands, carefully reviewing the pages once more in an attempt to determine precisely where everything had gone wrong. She was still searching through the baffling collection of clauses and supplemental agreements when, amid the surrounding noise, one particular phrase reached her ears with startling clarity.

…Old money and bad investments…

Laxia’s gaze froze upon the page. Slowly, she raised her head, color rising into her cheeks as she turned back toward the actress. By then, Judith had finished entertaining the reporters and was making her way toward the front desk. Just then, the receptionist who had been assisting Laxia caught sight of the approaching celebrity. As though bewitched by a siren’s song, he abruptly abandoned everything in front of him. He flung the LAW brochure and welcome folder directly toward Laxia’s face as he hurried around to the opposite side of the desk to greet the approaching star.

Laxia’s hand snapped upward on instinct. With a sharp rustle of paper, she caught the folder in one hand mere inches before it struck her. Several loose pages slipped free and fluttered down around her boots, scattering across the polished lobby floor. For a moment, Laxia simply stared at the folder in her hand. Then her fingers slowly tightened around its edges, leaving a faint crease in the otherwise pristine cover.

Before she could properly address this appalling display of unprofessionalism, the crowd pressed forward once again. Reporters and cameramen moved closer to Judith, their shoulders gradually forcing Laxia away from the reception desk and out of the camera frame entirely. One particularly eager photographer collided with her without so much as an apology. Laxia took a controlled step backward. Her lips pressed into an increasingly rigid line as camera flashes erupted in rapid succession, their light reflecting across the polished floor. Questions, compliments, and breathless praise continued to rain down upon Judith Lanster from every direction. Heat flared behind Laxia’s eyes.

Hey…!!!!!

The furious cry echoed only within her mind. Outwardly, however, her expression remained composed. She had no intention of giving anyone present the satisfaction of watching her lose control. She drew in a slow, measured breath. Lowering the crumpled folder to her side, she carefully smoothed the front of her clothing and resumed her full, immaculate posture. Laxia glided through the crowd with practiced elegance, gently but firmly guiding the paparazzi aside as she slipped between them. She paid no attention to the irritated murmurs, the flashing cameras, or the reporters protesting as she passed. To her, they were little more than obstacles occupying the space between herself and the receptionist. Under the quiet authority of her movements, cameras lowered and shoulders shifted out of her path as she made her way back toward the man who had so abruptly abandoned her.

By the time she reached the desk, she had naturally taken up a position directly beside the famous actress. Yet even then, Laxia did not spare Judith, or anyone else around her so much as a glance. Her attention remained fixed solely upon the receptionist. Several photographers gestured impatiently for Laxia to move aside, visibly irritated that the unfamiliar orange-haired woman was obstructing their clean shots of the star. One even dismissively waved her away with his hand. Laxia ignored them completely.

She placed the creased folder upon the desk with a firm, deliberate tap, not loud, but pointed enough to make her displeasure unmistakable. “I believe we were in the middle of a conversation."Her voice remained calm and impeccably polite, though the chill beneath it was unmistakable. “On second thought… very well. I have no interest in so-called ‘VIP’ facilities that are available to just anyone.”Laxia kept her eyes fixed upon the receptionist, allowing her gaze to flick briefly toward Judith only as she emphasized that final word.“After all, if sufficient publicity is all it takes for any entertainer to gain access, they could hardly be considered exclusive.” A thin, humorless smile touched her lips. “Perhaps they were never as prestigious as I had been led to believe.”With that, Laxia slid the folder across the desk toward the receptionist and turned toward the corridor leading to the communal locker rooms. After taking only a step or two, however, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. Her words were still directed toward the receptionist, though spoken loudly enough for the woman beside her, and everyone surrounding them to hear. "Though I must say, discovering that LAW values publicity over genuine talent is profoundly disappointing.”