❝ALL WE ARE IS BULLETS, I MEAN THIS.❞
-❝all my life there's been demons following me, some still haunting me. I'm so keen on looking ahead that I sometimes forget who they are & only remember when I'm face to face with them, extending my arm outward...
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| 2 weeks l a t e r |
Days have gone by, each new cycle of 24 hours bringing more clarity and less toxicity out of a previously damaged soul inhabited by Becky Lynch.
Sobriety has been difficult as it's always been said the Irish are born with alcohol in their veins, but Rebecca's strayed clear of any venomous substance.
After a few days of media coverage, the Irish Lass Kicker finally returns to her blue-branded home of Smack Down. Live in Chicago for the night, a certain kind of madness sparks inside of the recovering beauty with just a glimpse of the rowdy crowd.
While overseas to promote Smack Down, Lynch received shocking news. A devil known as Vince McMahon ordered Becky to relinquish her championship belt as it belonged to Raw. The Irish Lass's heart nearly broke until her phone call ended only to be called by a friendlier soul a few seconds later.
Shane McMahon.
In their brief conversation, Shane confessed to news that had Becky Lynch packing her bags with excitement. A new Women's Championship belt would be announced at Chicago's live show, a belt for just the women of Smack Down.
Nothing guaranteed that Rebecca would win the Championship belt, but the Irish Lass Kicker would be damned if she wasn't the first to win the coveted title.
It didn't matter if she'd die trying, so long as she got to hold that belt over her boulder shoulders and proudly be called, Smack Down's first ever Women's Champion, Becky Lynch.
Selflessness has always coated the Irish native, never having minded seeing her 4 Horsewomen sisters succeed. Yet, Becky would be lying to herself if she didn't admit to constantly feeling left out, sometimes even cheated out of an opportunity to have her true defining break out moment.
Thoughts of regret and sadness escape Becky's mind when her phone lightly buzzes. A thick British accent speaks, bringing Rebecca to a genuine smirk.
"Have you taken your anxiety meds?"
"Have you deleted Rollins off of your phone?"
A small pause lingers, triggering the Irish Lass Kicker to sigh and speak the truth.
"I haven't taken my meds."
"I haven't deleted him."
The two chuckle, bringing Becky so off guard that when arms wrap around her shoulders, the Irish Lass Kicker acts defensively and scoops the victim in her arms to toss on the ground.
