AFW Title Match: Angel (c) Vs. Taylor Parker

Junko gasped audibly when Angel thrust Taylor forward. Any audible cry died in her throat and she turned her head and covered her face before Taylor even hit the canvas. She blinked rapidly into her sleeve but she couldn't keep the tears from falling when she heard the audience's signal that Angel had succeeded.

As the count began, Junko sighed into her sleeve and quickly wiped away the tears. She had to hold it together for Taylor, no matter what and she would do that. When the final count hit, her sinking heart was drown out by the cheers. She turned to look at Taylor and watched Angel enjoy her deserved kudos. Taylor would need a moment alone before Junko scraped her off the canvas and she wasn't going to interfere with Angel's celebration.

That was until Angel called her out. Or that's what she thought. Junky? How rude. junko's brow furrowed at the Latina. Junko held in a growl and adjusted her glasses. "One second is the difference between your stations, Angel-san. Don't forget that much for the next time." She said in a cold tone as she hopped up and slipped into the ring. She stood over Taylor and looked down at her as the arena lights shined off her glasses.

"My daughter." She said in a soft tone. "I've never been prouder of you." That was what she wanted Taylor to hear first. And unlike the Summer Splash match, She wouldn't kneel down. Taylor was going to stand up under her own power, only if she couldn't was Junko going to disrespect Taylor by cradling her like a child in the biggest match of her career and, unfortunately, her biggest loss.

Taylor groaned and put a hand to her aching forehead. "Mom, could you please just shut up," she croaked, and then her voice shrank to a strained whisper. "I really fucked up."

There was a hollow wretchedness in Taylor that couldn't be filled by words. As she laboriously forced herself to sit up, she looked to be in greater agony from the pinfall than from anything else Angel did to her. It was almost too much to bear.

She knew she had to get up, if only to get out of the arena so she could nurse her wounds in private, but for the moment she couldn't do it. She could scarcely find the will to breathe.

Junko's features softened at Taylor's words. She knew exactly how the girl felt and nothing Junko could say would make it feel better at all. She just wanted to make sure that Taylor knew how Junko felt when she was ready to look back at the day's events with a clearer head.

"Can you stand, dear?" She asked and held out her hand.She also didn't want to just help Taylor up. It was important that she stood on her own. After that, then Junko could walk her out.

"You didn't "fuck up." She said. "We can talk all about it later, let's just make sure everything is alright, ok?" Junko was concerned that last powerbomb might have given Taylor a concussion. She didn't seem too injured otherwise, but Taylor probably wouldn't show her injuries either, unless they were so bad she had no choice.

Taylor nodded silently. If nothing else, she could get back up.

She didn't take Junko's hand, and instead laboriously got to her feet on her own, wincing each step of the way. She stared blankly at Junko, but she didn't care about anything she was saying. It didn't matter. There was only one thing that mattered, and it was gone now. She shook her head and looked away.

But there was one thought lingering in the back of her head, one funny little question.

"How did it happen?" She asked, and her voice caught in her throat. Her face broke. She covered her eyes with her hand to hide her brokenhearted expression, and the inevitable tears that welled at the corners of her eyes, and tried desperately to keep her composure.

Junko winced as Taylor spoke. The tears flowing from the young blonde made it hard for Junko not to cry along with her and hug her tightly. She put a hand on Taylor's back and gave it a gentle rub. That was all the contact she was going to offer her daughter-in-law until Taylor made it clear she wanted or needed it.

Still, the thought of Taylor not knowing how she had lost terrified Junko more than she had expected. If she really did have a concussion, that would be the most horrible thing and Junko had to bite her own lip to keep from smothering Taylor with motherly affection.

"It was a powerbomb, Taylor-chan."

Taylor blinked away tears and dropped her hands back to her sides. "Yeah," she nodded. She tried on the thought, and it seemed about right. It was the second time Angel had beaten her by powerbomb, only this time much worse. What a bitch.

She breathed a tiny, ironic laugh. "At least it wasn't a roll-up." She shook her head and winced as she was again barbed by the reality of the loss. "Fuck, this sucks," she whispered, and then turned away from the entrance ramp, put her hands on her thighs, and bowed deeply to the crowd.

Amidst the sweat and tears that stained the ring canvas, the retaining champion would leave the ring and make her way backstage. She deserved to be proud of herself for such a hard fought victory. But Taylor Parker was not alone despite her loss. She fought hard and while she was respected by the fans already. Loud cheers and a standing ovation would be given to the blonde haired punker who fought her heart out. A loud applause for the main event tonight was deafening in the sold out Friction Arena.

Just when it looked like the show was about to close, The sound of symphonic strings and a synthesized bass would vibrate through the arena speakers, the lights of the arena violently alternating between darkness and brightly lit. The cheering and applause had ended abruptly and was replaced by a loud unanimous chorus of boos as [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KU3dZiu4OXg:owz496v0]"Flashing Lights" by Kanye West[/url:owz496v0] dropped its glitzy, vibrant beat. The arena lights dimming down as the song's loud, bopping, clapping beat was matched by the proud, pompous and egotistical stomping of red wrestling boots as the Friction World Cup Winner, Kelly Conway, strutted her way onto the entrance stage with a large white, fur coat and big bug eyed sunglasses, stomping her way down the ramp admits the chorus of boos. Stopping in the very center of the ramp, her hip cocked with her hands upon them,standing there looking at Taylor and Junko for a good long while before she lifted her glasses and pulled out a mic that she had stored inside the coat, switching it on as her music faded out. The only thing being heard now was the loud booing of the packed crowd as Kelly stood there proudly.

She held the mic to her lips and stood there silently, her eyes scanning left to right several times before...

"PFFFFTTT!!!" Kelly spat and hunched over suddenly before she started to obnoxiously cackle. "Oh... Oh Ho ho ho ho! Ho! HA! HA! HA! HAHAHAHAHA!!!" Laughed the Blonde obnoxiously, gently putting herself on her back and rolling lightly on the ramp with her legs kicking up violently as she laughed as loud as exaggerated as she could.

"Ohh... OH Maaan..!!" Kelly gasped, sitting back up and getting to her feet. Her force contorting into an expression that mocked what she imagined Taylor's. Acting like she was about to cry. Her lip quivering. "Awwww.... I Lawwwst... Awww Noooo...Mama Nooooo... I sowwy... I twiiied!! Pfft!" Kelly mocked before a sly smile creeped back over her face. Grinning proudly as she pointed to the arena where the two stood.

"Mrs. Junko Higurashi, I don't know how things were run back in your day, but these days we like to keep our of the ring clean and free of trash. So If you don't mind leaving the ring so our 'Chica Champion'... And the rest of the Maintenance crew, can come out here and get that stupid piece of washed up trash out of the damn ring. 'Cause right now it's stinking up the place and it smells of putid suck! She was better off retired, washing dishes, folding clothes and slaving in the kitchen for a man as a pathetic, stupid little housewife than to be here posing as a contender for a Professional Wrestling Championship. And Kelly Conway has said this before but let her remind you all again because the truth is more relevant than ever now... It's now proven! It's Factual! Taylor Erin Parker Higurashi! You're a loser! And you don't have it takes to be a champion! Hahahaha!"

If Taylor was in despair before, she was absolutely crestfallen when she heard that corny ass department store rap. She should have seen it coming. It was the one thing that could actually make her night worse.

She hurriedly wiped at her cheeks and rolled her shoulders. She did her best to stand tall and look tough, despite her obvious pain, and despite her reddened eyes.

She suffered silently and tight-lipped through Kelly's egotistical tirade. It wasn't her choice of words that did it. It was that Taylor was so pathetic that Kelly Conway could ever say anything that hurt her. It crushed her, and being called a loser by that ridiculous pantomime girl was more than she could bear.

She hoped her face looked as fierce as she thought it did, and she held out a quivering hand to her manager. "Mom. Gimme a mic."

Junko growled audibly when Kelly strolled out to rub salt in Taylor's many wounds she had accumulated during the course of her battle. She felt like a lioness watching a hyena slink in to sniff around her children, looking to see if she could cart one off while her head was turned.

She stepped forward, ready to address Kelly personally when Taylor asked for the microphone. She turned and looked back at Taylor. She looked her daughter-in-law up and down and then nodded softly. She grabbed a microphone but before she handed it to Taylor she looked at her.

"If she comes at you, Taylor-chan, then I will do my best to stop her. You only get words for the rest of the night, understand?" Junko said as she put herself physically between Taylor and Kelly after handing Taylor the microphone.

Taylor transferred her jagged, red-eyed glare from Kelly to Junko, and looked her directly in the eye as she took the microphone. She held it low, so no one could hear.

"Mom," she said firmly. "Get out of the way."

Taylor lifted the mic and screamed "SHUT UP! Her voice was ragged and unsteady, and her words slurred together only just noticeably. "Yeah, I tried, okay? And what've you been doin', huh? Sittin' backstage in your Chewbacca suit, waiting for a chance to open your big mouth?! Shut up!"

Her voice broke. She sounded inches from breaking down in tears. "Who the hell are YOU, huh? You beat up some fat girl and the GM wins a match for you, and allofasudden you're hot shit? You get a LUCKY. FUCKING. PIN! And what..."

She was red-faced and shaking. Her chest heaved with each shallow breath. She swallowed hard, and found that her mouth was dry, and her voice rose to a rabid, throat shredding scream.

"WHY DONT YOU COME DOWN HERE AND TRY IT AGAIN! Think you'll get lucky TWICE?, I'll make that video of you with a strap-on up your ass look like a day at the SPA! Either get down here and fight, or shut up and GET OUT!!"

Her head throbbed worse from the screaming, and she stopped to catch her breath. She checked herself to make sure she didn't break down.