OOC:
Managed to finish up in time. Anyways, note, this roleplay is a direct continuation of the final Vance roleplay from Striking Distance, prior to the Vance/Trix match occuring.
Abram Vance: Roleplay #2 of 2
The Rise (Part 1) [Untelevised]
Crowd: “VANCE… VANCE… VANCE!”
Vance stands at the top of the stage, facing the TitanTron. His head droops as he closes his eyes and extends his hands to the side, calling for more cheers from his passionate smarks. The challenger to the International Championship turns to face the crowd and bows graciously. He pivots to face the curtain and pauses for a moment.
ACW Management: A Piece
Beki Rayce: A Piece
Abram Vance: A Player
Vance raises his arm over his head and defiantly flicks off the ACW logo hanging above the TitanTron. The smarks in the audience roar back in approval at Vance’s symbolic gesture as Vance shoves the curtain aside and enters the backstage area. He keeps his head hung low, hesitant about facing Rayce, McHenry, or any other official waiting to punish him for the unscripted promo he just finished. Yet, as he slowly raises his head, his eyes bulge wide in surprise. The usual traffic heavy backstage area has been completely emptied except for one person, Beki Rayce. The woman stands directly across from Vance, leaning cockily against the wall. Her arms are folded tightly on her chest as she shoots Vance a threatening glare. Abe cracks a cheeky smile that dares her to lash out, but Rayce just continues to stare.
Beki sent away her minions, so she can have me to herself, eh’?
The two stand in silence, eyeing each other intensely. Finally, Rayce shrugs her shoulders and slowly saunters towards Vance. Abe stands firm but seems a bit disgruntled as a sly, knowing smile crosses onto Rayce’s face. As she gets within fifteen paces, Rayce begins to clap slowly and dramatically. As she steps, the pace of her clap quickens until she finally reaches Vance and stops, allowing a dramatic silence to linger between the two. Vance stares down at the smaller woman with a confident yet threatening fire burning in his eyes, and Rayce returns the stare with a cheeky smile. She confidently whispers.
Beki Rayce: “I’m impressed.”
Did she play me again? Did she want all this shit to go down?
Naw, too many variables. The bitch could’ve neva’ predicted I’d do that, and the Jason kid was too fuckin’ emotional to be a mole.
The little fucka’ is just a nutty fan.
Rayce runs her hand down Vance’s exposed chest before turning her back to him. She slowly begins to wander around the area, eyeing and touching nearby objects carelessly in an attempt to show Vance that his controversial promo hasn’t fazed her. She rests her hand on a nearby table and leans against it, attempting to appear careless and relaxed. Rayce stares at Vance as a knowing, wicked smile crosses her face. She confidently spits out.
Beki Rayce: “You played right into my hand…”
False bravado?
Betta’ find out.
Vance releases an amused huff silencing her immediately. He stares intensely at her face and immediately notices her lip quivering nervously. She hides her right hand behind the table and clutches a small clipboard with left, concealing any potential shakiness.
Stoppin’ her braggin’ after a huff? Quivering lip? Purposely hidin’ her hands?
Bitch is fakin’ this.
An evil smirk jumps onto Vance’s face as he bluntly responds, a twinge of sarcasm in his voice.
Abram Vance: “Lemme’ guess? Ya’ planted the kid in the crowd to throw ma’ jobbin’ to Trix in ma’ face hoping I’d bolt, forget ma’ bag, so ya’ can bring the pills to McHenry, get me fired?”
Despite the loss of confidence, Rayce manages to maintain a cocky smile and nod confidently at Vance’s accusation. Abe just chuckles at Rayce and continues in a more sarcastic tone, fitting for the ludicrous plans Rayce is attempting to take credit for.
Abram Vance: “And ya’ thought that after that, I’d go out there and tell management and ya’ to fuck off AND win over the crowd?”
She hesitates for a moment before nodding less emphatically, the cocky smile fading as she does.
Ha. How pathetic.
She’s tryin’ to take credit for somethin’ that nobody coulda’ predicted.
Fuckin’ dumbass.
Vance laughs condescendingly at the sight of Rayce nodding in a desperate attempt to maintain her power over him. He slowly saunters over to her, much like a predator quietly swooping in on prey, until the two are nearly chest to chest. Vance looks down at her and smiles as the confidence melts from Rayce’s face. He whispers bluntly.
Abram Vance: “Ya’ full of shit, Rayce.”
Vance stares on intensely as Rayce just crumbles, giving into the undeniable fact that the balance of power has shifted. Instead of consoling her, Vance just laughs in her face, bragging about his victory, and whispers mockingly.
Abram Vance: “Good effort in tryin’ to get rid of me, though.”
Vance slaps her playfully on the cheek, treating her like a defenseless child, and turns his back to her. He confidently strides towards the adjacent hallway, hoping to leave the powerless Rayce behind, but is surprised by her meek voice.
Beki Rayce: “But why?”
Vance pauses in his track, about ten paces from Rayce, and looks back over his shoulder, confused by the question. He emphasizes his confusion by shrugging his shoulders, and Rayce quickly specifies her question, stumbling on her words.
Beki Rayce: “Why… why the promo? I mean… I just don’t get why you’d do that.”
How the fuck do I respond to that without giving her some power over me?
‘Cuz’ ya’ forced me to by fuckin’ with ma’ emotions?’
Vance opens his mouth and hesitantly responds.
Abram Vance: “Cuz’ ya’….”
He pauses mid-sentence, clearly rethinking his answer, as Rayce stares on looking defeated but anxious for an answer.
Naw, let’s take a page out of old Rayce’s book.
Lies.
Abram Vance: “I had ta’ win over the smarks, dump ya’ ass as ma’ manager, and get McHenry to give me that damn belt.”
At first, Rayce nods along, realizing that the promo accomplished all of Vance’s supposed intentions. However, after a minute, she lets out an amused huff and questions confidently, the wicked smirk returning to her face.
Beki Rayce: “Give you the belt?”
Vance nods confidently, obviously believing that the promo has convinced management to take the International Championship off their golden boy ‘Nicky Trix’ and put it on the ‘washed up, has been’ Abram Vance. Rayce shakes her head in amusement at his confidence and informs him of her latest actions, her spite for him oozing from every emotionally charged word.
Beki Rayce: “I may have fed ya’ a shit load of lies tonight, but one thing I didn’t fucking lie about is that an ACW official found your bag at the autograph signing and brought the contents of it to McHenry.”
Lying again Rayce?
Eh, but, she ain’t known to be so emotional. Bitch could be tellin’ the truth.
If so, I’m fucked.
Vance huffs cockily yet again and shrugs his shoulders, attempting to appear disinterested. Rayce refuses to drop the subject and passionately yells at him.
Beki Rayce: “You NEED those pills to wrestle.”
Vance unintentionally breaks character at the sound of Rayce’s much concealed offer to get him out of the mess. He stares down at his injured right knee. He massages it softly with his right hand as he looks at the tightly wound, multi-layered wrap holding it firmly in place. Abe grimaces in pain.
Ya’ bet ya’ ass I could use some damn Vicodin, but I ain’t bowin’ at ya’ feet to get some.
That’s fo’ sure.
Despite his inner feelings, Vance smiles condescendingly and brushes past her, denying her seemingly final attempt to maintain control over him. Rayce throws her hands down in frustration as Vance walks towards the locker rooms, leaving her behind. Just as it seems that Vance has silenced Rayce, a cocky smile jumps onto her face, as if she just realized another potential angle that could save her, and she screams after him.
Beki Rayce: “When McHenry hears about the pills, (confidently) and HE WILL if he already hasn’t, he’ll have you job to Trix and then suspend you, killing your final shot at glory.”
She’s lovin’ this. Ha.
Bitch thinks she’s got me cornered.
Idiot.
Vance stops dead in his tracks yet again and this time maintains his position, his back turned to Rayce as if he’s above dignifying her with a clean glance of his face. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at Rayce’s cocky grimace. He opens his mouth and confidently barks back at her.
Abram Vance: “When McHenry hears that…”
Vance points emphatically at the curtain, drawing Rayce’s attention to the still roaring crowd.
Crowd: “VANCE… VANCE… VANCE!”
Abram Vance: “Ya’ can bet ya' ass that he's goin’ to overlook the stupid pills and strap that damn International Title on me.”
Rayce mouth slowly falls agape, and she motions to cover her right ear with her hand at the sound of the roaring crowd. She desperately wants to shield her head in defeat, unable to defend herself against with lies against the obvious facts any longer, but can’t break eye contact with the intimidating Vance. He whispers coldly.
Abram Vance: “Ya’ lost, Rayce.”
Vance emphasizes ‘Rayce’ with a certain venomous hatred in his tone, and if words could kill, Rayce would’ve fallen dead on the spot as the newly powerful Abram Vance leaves her alone in the darkness: sulking, defeated, powerless, and for the first time in her life, utterly defenseless.
~*~*~*~*~*END OF SCENE*~*~*~*~*~
