Gwenivere Jordan was softly hunched over as she sat on the couch in the apartment-style hotel room. Resting on her palms was the National Belt. The tips of her fingers were curled gently around the top of it. The metal was cool to the touch, smooth… almost silk-like in its undamaged quality. The gold reflected the dimmed light from around the hotel room, allowing it to bounce and cast a sparkle-like effect across her pale flesh. It had been so long since gold had touched her skin; a belt curled around her waist. It was liberating.

She allowed herself to lean back into the couch, splaying the belt over her black denim clad thighs. Those black jeans were stark black, matching the tight tank top that exposed a bit of her tummy. Her naked toes curled into shag carpet. Her arm was in a sling, supporting her elbow from the injuries she sustained during the long, gruelling match against The Vine. Her eyes close slowly as she settled into the couch, drawing into her own, scattered thoughts.

Day by day, I find myself growing less and less attached from the real world. You know that world? The one that everybody thinks is their reality, though really they are wound into a world of lies, deceit and disappointment. I am apart of that world, yes, but I seem to be pulled and pushed out of it. Pulled by the embrace of Frost Incorporated… pushed by people like Pete Ebdon and others I could mention. I will choose not to, at present. I fear that the list would be far too long.

Since I’ve joined Frost Incorporated, I’ve had mixed reviews. In fact, just the other day, a young boy came up to me in the grocery store. I was looking at… cereal, I believe it was. This boy couldn’t have been more than ten. Somehow, despite the warnings on New Era Wrestling’s shows, this little boy knew who I was. Promptly, he kicked my shin and said I was a big, dumb jerk-head for my interference in Adam’s and Seraph’s match against Eto and Millennia. He said that Reno Frost is a very bad man and I should leave Frost Inc.

I had rubbed my calf, glaring down at the little brat. Had he been around my age, I would have given him a right pounding. So, I just glared at him, instead. I glared at him until his mother came to take him away, apologizing for her son’s behaviour. I just nodded faintly and walked away. He may have only been ten, but he sure as hell had a mean left foot on him. I left the grocery store at that point, leaving my groceries there. I haven’t eaten in days. The gold was drawing me inwards… making me paranoid. My mind flashed to the Lord of the Rings. Preciousssssssssssss.

Gwenivere was draw out of her thoughts by a loud knocking on the door. Slowly, those sapphire eyes shimmered into existence as her eyelids parted. She looked behind her to the door, brow raised slightly. She lifted her arm and looked down at her watch. It was nearly nine o’clock at night. God damn, she hope it was not some crazed fan… or crazed hater. She didn’t know how they could possibly find her. She was under an alias: Gwenhwyfar Jaden. She draped the belt over the back of the couch before getting to her feet and moving over to the door quickly. She winced a bit as her battered body was carried swiftly across the floor.

She unlocked it and opened the door, brow raised. She looked down, once the door was opened, at little Amy Lucifer. Faintly, a smile tugged at the corners of Gwen’s lips. She stepped to the side, allowing her to slip inside. Gwen closed the door and turned around, seeing Amy look around the hotel. Instantly, she was attracted to the National Championship Belt that was on the couch still. She went over to it, glancing at Gwen for the A-okay to continue. Gwen nodded softly and walked over to the couch, slumping down. Her head was still throbbing from the many bumps and bangs that she had experience during her Title Match. Her uninjured hand went up, fingers curling around her forehead, rubbing her temples slightly. Amy hopped up onto the couch, prodding Gwenivere’s side.

“You okay, Gwenny?” One of those sapphire orbs cracked open slightly, gazing side-long at Amy. She smiled a little bit, the welt on her bottom lip expanding a little bit with the widening of her grin. “Yes, chéri. I am fine. Just very… weary. I’m so old.” As Gwen spoke, she was almost whining. A bit of a pout began to possess her bottom lip as she opened both eyes and allowed her hand to fall into the couch. Amy laughed softly and shook her head. “Gwen! You’re twenty-three!” The little one said through a fit of soft giggles. Gwenivere looked at Amy sceptically, brow raised. A bit of a smile appeared once more as she began to chuckle as well.

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She needed time alone. She had driven Amy home and had parked her car on the side of the road. Making sure that it was locked, she headed off down the street. The tails of her black, wool-fibre trench coat licked at her shapely legs which were still hidden beneath the baggy denim. Her shoulders hunched upwards slightly, covering her neck with the lapels of her coat, as well as forcing the velour scarf to caress her earlobes where all the silver studs and rings were contracting the cold. She had a black headband on that covered her ears, mostly, save for the very bottom of the lobe. The only sound that came from her was, the slight sucking of the cigarette that she held betwixt gloved fingers, and her heavy boots crunching against the snow.

Winter was her favourite time of year: save for the icy cold wind that would no doubt make her get frostbite if she didn’t cover up. A light snow began to fall around her, giving the small park she had found herself in, an almost angelic and innocent quality to it. The snow was pure white, untouched by the soot and pollution from the roads that made the innocence turn into evil. But the smooth layer of snow was only marred by her measured footfalls that were left her tracks behind her and the cigarette that was flicked out to the side, to sink into the snow where it was extinguished. She came upon a dark green bench and wrinkled her nose softly. She gently pushed off the snow and sat down, stretching out her long legs in front of her. As she looked about her at the park, she realized that it was mostly abandoned, except for the occasional homeless person, or a couple walking their dog.

I think too much. It makes me unable to sleep fully. I just can’t turn off my brain. It’s impossible. I keep thinking about the match with Vine. Now, my thoughts are tuned to Nikita and our match against Acrophobia and Trevor Wrath. Firstly… Acro, darling… how many times have we been in the ring together? Either fighting against or with each other? Many. And I have only been here for a but a few weeks.

Now, this Trevor Wrath character. I’ve no idea what he’s all about. Perhaps if I feign interest, he will just poof and be gone. But no. Seriously. Perhaps both Acrophobia and he will be gone once they lose to Nikita and I. One can only dream, I suppose. And how often do dreams come true these days?