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“I know why you don’t want to fight me.”
Toni’s hand froze on the handle to her dressing room. What more could Deonna possibly want to say to her? She’d already embarrassed her in front of the crowd tonight, wrenching her arms behind her back as she flailed around on the ground like a helpless buffoon. Her right shoulder was still feeling strained, and her pride was stung, too. She wouldn’t grace this woman with even so much as a response.
Toni continued turning the handle, swishing her robe out from beneath her feet as she stepped inside. She went to close the door, but it wouldn’t budge – Deonna’s arm was pushed against it, forcing it open.
“It’s not because you’re afraid of losing,” she continued, ignoring Toni’s performance of indifference. “You’re not afraid of anything.”
Toni brushed past her again, turning her back to Deonna as she sat down at her vanity. A dozen lightbulbs flickered on, bright lights shining down onto Toni’s powdered face in the mirror. She was about to start admiring herself when she saw Deonna’s reflection behind her, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Okay, even for this new delusional persona you’ve been playing, this is pretty rude,” she said. “At least look at me.”
“Please. You think I’m the delusional one?” Toni finally gave up and responded. “You’re the one waltzing into this company, disrespecting the world champion and thinking you deserve any chance at challenging for my title.”
She motioned to the golden belt around her waist. It sparkled under the vanity’s lights, adding a little more glow to Toni’s reflection.
“But yes, tell me more about how I’m not afraid of losing to an under-qualified, uncivilized, indie darling talent like yourself.”
Toni smirked as she met Deonna’s glare in the mirror. Her stare was pointed, betraying her act of the level-headed competitor come to talk some sense into the mad queen. But her eyes held Toni’s gaze, not once wandering towards the championship belt. The prolonged eye contact was more than awkward; suddenly, Toni was feeling much more vulnerable than she’d expected to be backstage.
She quickly tore her eyes away, Deonna immediately vanishing from sight. “Well, as you can see, this is a private dressing room, and I’m not interested in having any visitors. You can see yourself out.”
She reached for a package of makeup wipes, attempting to recompose herself a little. It had already been a long night: all this stage makeup was starting to feel heavy on her skin. She hoped it wouldn’t ruin her complexion; next week, she’d be back on TV to defend her honour as champion, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less than her absolute best.
When Toni did eventually look back up to the mirror, Deonna hadn’t moved. Her arms were still crossed, and her eyes were still on Toni, although her gaze had softened.
“You know what? Maybe you’re right,” she eventually said. “It has been a while since we wrestled together. I’m sure you've gotten a lot stronger since then. Earning that title isn’t something anyone can do.”
Toni nodded, enjoying the praise as she peeled off the false lash on her right eye. “You’ve beaten other girls I haven’t even had the chance to face yet,” Deonna continued. “You’ve had more time, more competition, and more experience at the top of the mountain in this company. So you shouldn’t be afraid of losing to me.”
She paused. “But it’s not about losing for you. You don’t really care about losing. You care about me.”
“So self-centred. Not everything in the world is about you, my dear.” Toni began to scrub the foundation off her face, moving up from her chin to the right side of her jaw.
“You’ve been pretending like you don’t even know who I am. We trained together for years. We lived together. We did everything together. We were best friends.”
“I told you before, I’ve had plenty of friends. That doesn’t make you anything special.”
“We weren’t just friends.” Deonna said. “You know what we were.”
Toni’s hand froze again, pressing the makeup wipe into her cheek. Bits of white foundation were still caked onto her skin. Under the bright lights of the vanity, she looked strange: one half of her face was pale, the other bare.
“You’re ashamed,” Deonna continued. “Because of what happened. And I know you haven’t been able to forget about it. I haven’t, either.”
Toni said nothing. Those memories felt so distant, they might as well belong to a different person.
But they were still in her head. And now that Deonna was mentioning them, they were impossible to forget.
“I can’t make you stop this, Toni. I don’t know how to get you to stop pretending.” Deonna was staring again. Toni could feel her eyes on the back of her head. “But I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to run away again. Not just from me this time, but from yourself.”
“And if you can’t acknowledge your past, the Toni Storm you used to be, then you can’t acknowledge what we were. And you can’t face me. So you won’t.”
Toni looked at her own reflection in the mirror. The clean side of her face was flushed red from the makeup remover. It looked raw, unpolished, plain. She couldn’t bear to look at it.
Cringing, Toni turned away from the vanity, and came face to face with Deonna. Their eyes met, surely only accidentally. And as Toni looked at her old friend, a part of her mind unlocked itself. Yes, the memories were there: Deonna locking Toni’s arms behind her back in the ring; Deonna smiling as she laughed; her body laying next to Toni’s, the two of them nestled together on a mat laid out on the floor.
But she couldn’t acknowledge them. Deonna was right. Toni was ashamed of the person she used to be. Their relationship had made her vulnerable, something a deserving competitor in this business should never be. Toni wanted no trace of that old, naive self to be remembered, especially not after the lengths she’d gone to to leave her behind. She was a champion now. And she wouldn’t let herself be so easily taken down.
“What an impressive presentation you’ve put forward,” Toni said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Unfortunately, you seem to be mistaken into thinking I’m just as driven by my heart as you are. But if I were, I wouldn’t be the world champion. I’d just be another hopeless competitor, wallowing around in my own sadness, too depressed to climb my way out of the gutter and to the top. In fact, I’d be something just like you.”
Deonna pursed her lips. Toni couldn’t tell if she was offended; she didn’t even know if she’d believed a word she’d said. A heavy, awkward silence settled over the two women. Toni turned her back on Deonna again, forcing her hand to be still as she reached for another makeup wipe.
“So, as I’ve already said and as you so rudely ignored before, this is a private dressing room. I’m going to have to ask you very plainly, my dear, to get out.”
She began to rub the foundation off of her other cheek, stealing a glance up in the mirror to check on Deonna. Her arms were uncrossed, now hanging limply by her sides.
“I guess I was wrong, then.” she said. “You really are afraid of me, after all.”
And with that, she left.
Toni watched her disappear, the place where she’d stood in the mirror suddenly vast in its emptiness. Deonna had finally left her alone. But it didn’t make Toni feel any better. All she could do was stare at her reflection, still only half dressed up in a costume, the other half unavoidably and unfortunately bare.