The Payback

It was time.

No, scratch that. It was way past time. 'Time' had been years ago, after Rumble Roses folded. 'Time' had been when she tried to jumpstart her music career and wound up floundering and failing. 'Time' had been when she saw Dixie Clemets, Reiko Hinamoto, and that crazy-ass nurse slumming it up in the AFW like nothing happened, like they didn't have some debts left to pay and she'd never come collecting.

No, this was way overdue. Aisha was about to make a comeback. A real comeback.

She stood in the back, crashing her knuckles as her entourage gave her the final touches. A little makeup around the cheeks, accentuate her natural darkness. Some eyeshadow, not too heavy, give her that bruised, brawling look. A thin layer of lipstick, caramel-colored to match her skin. Her hair was shimmering, her bra was sparkling, her pants were pressed and crystal clean, and her heels were shined to perfection. She looked good. Like she could be stepping out onto the stage of any concert, ready to entertain her loyal fans - not the ones who'd kicked her when she was down, hit her in the lowest times. No, she was coming out for the true and blue diehards. This was their night.

She could hear the mumbling outside, as the Friction audience simmered in a pot of hot rumors. They knew someone was making a debut tonight, and Aisha's PR team had seeded the internet with a few choice tidbits to add some flavor in the stew. Some knew that it would be a returning wrestler from one of the older companies. A few speculated that it was Rumble Roses, and that Aigle or Makoto were coming in. A small few pegged Aisha, but they'd be shot down, mentioning how she'd very publicly denounced the AFW and said she'd never come over.

Well, they didn't know what had happened in the past year or so. Her life had changed, and she was in a dramatically different place now. Aisha was still iffy about the organization, but she was willing to give it a chance, especially if it meant she'd be able to settle some old accounts. Speaking of which...

"Ms. Taylor." One of the stagehands, a mousy little guy that was trying way too hard to not stare at her chest, came by with a clipboard in hand. Her entourage started to back off, giving him some space. "You'll be up in a minute. Music's already cued and everything. Do you need anything?"

She had a small sigh and turned his way with a hand on her hip. "Need you to stop calling me 'Ms. Taylor', first thing." More and more people were doing that lately, too. The perks of being middle-aged. Great. "'Aisha'. Just 'Aisha'." He offered her a water bottle and she gladly took it. "Thanks. And you're sure Dixie is in the building? Like, really sure?"

"Really sure." He gave her a solid nod. "She's pretty hard to miss."

"Pfft. That's for damn sure." How many white blondes in cowgirl outfits could there be in Japan? She finished off the water bottle as he tapped his head seat, listening to the sound crew on the other line.

"All right, you're up, Ms...Aisha, sorry." He tried to hide his blush as he stepped back. "Music on in three, two..."

Hey, everybody, it’s Aisha!
Don’t you worry, she’s gonna be here for us!
Save the world, because you only got one!
Here we go yo, c’mon!

The crowd went wild as she stepped out of from behind the curtain, just like she knew they would. Aisha'd always been big in Japan, her tours here always made the biggest bank, and everything she touched on this island turned to gold. She strutted down the ramp, heels clicking along the metal after every powerful stride, and even though she hadn't planned on it, she couldn't help but reach out to give the crowd some love on her way down. Slapped hands, bumped fists, ate it all up.

Aisha made her way into the ring, stepping up on the apron and doing a sly slide through the top and middle ropes, lighting up the arena with camera flashes as they appreciated the view. She made her way to center of the ring and bounced around to her music, posing and making sure everyone got a good angle. Hands up, chest out, legs wide. Legs together, arms over the chest, little bit of smirk. Hands on hips, little step out, shoulders cocked. Looking hot.

The music started to die down and she walked over to the side, taking the microphone as it was tossed her way. She opened her mouth to speak, but had to stop as a little chant started up.

"Aisha! Aisha! Aisha!"

God damn, that felt good. She'd heard it before, even recently in her tour, but nobody put quite as much power in it as a Japanese crowd. They made her feel like a Goddess of Dance, and it was time to repay some of that love.

"Arigato, arigato! Hey, Japan! Guess who's back!" Aisha pumped her fist into the air and bathed in a wave of applause and cheers. "That's right. It's been a little while. Been out of the game, had to handle my business, get my mind right. But that's over. That's done. Now I'm here, I'm in the ring, and I am ready to dance!"

She held the microphone up to the crowd and took in another round of cheers, waving her free hand to hype them up. All this time and she still knew how to rock a wrestling audience and get them thumping. She brought  the microphone back down and continued in a more somber tone, letting a little depth sink into her voice. "First thing's first, though - want to have a little talk. See, the word of the day is 'loyalty'. When I was down, when I was hurting, there was a moment when I forgot who my friends were, you know? When I felt alone. But all y'all? You reminded me. You were there in the darkest hour. And you best believe I ain't never gonna forget that. You best believe I read your letters and I heard your calls. You best believe that I wouldn't be standing where I'm standing if it wasn't for people like you and you and you," She pointed out to each side of the audience. "Having my back!"

The crowd gave her claps this time, and she clapped along with them, meaning every word she said. It was great to know that, no matter what, she always had a place that would welcome her with open arms.

"But!" She wagged a finger and stepped back. "It ain't easy being loyal. Some people, see, they like roaches. All together in the dark, but the minute the lights come on? Scatter. They're out. Back in the Rumble Roses, I thought we were family. Yeah, small group. Things got stupid, not lying. But we had each other. We had something. But the minute things got rocky, I was on my own. Everyone abandoning ship, left and right, leaving me to fix the hole!" She was getting a little too hot now, losing the audience. Dial it back a few notches. Check yourself before you wreck yourself.

"So, there I was. No lifeboat. Had to swim to shore, and it wasn't easy. But I made it. I'm here. And I think it's time I had a heart-to-heart with everyone who left me to drown!" The crowd was starting to rile back up. She could tell they didn't all agree, but they liked where this was going. "So come on out, cowgirl. I know you're watching. I know you're here. It's high time we found out if my boot still fits in that fat ass of yours!"

She stared at the entrance, eyes on fire, while she waited for Dixie's theme to begin. Years. It had been years since they'd been in the same ring, and Aisha swore she could hear her heart beat over the crowd's roar...

Tiffany Laurence stood backstage, watching Aisha on a TV mounted on a wall. Clad in blue jeans and a tight fitting black T-shirt with the iconic image of Johnny Cash flipping off someone, the Texan wasn't expecting to see action tonight, and had simply come by to see if Angel had returned to active status yet. She also put on her wrestling outfit and gear and posed for photos with some of the fans. After changing back into her street clothes she was on her way out, but the sight of the former Rumble Rose had drawn her attention to the screen.

Tiff had always been a fan of the league, and in fact, Dixie Clemets had inspired Tiffany during her early days. She had proved that one didn't need to have a willingness to throw themselves off of the top ropes, or have a black belt in tae-kwon-ninjitsu-fu to succeed in wrestling. Strength and toughness could carry a girl far. While she respected Aisha's ability to throw, and take a punch, the woman's flashy dancing and her pop music career on the side made it hard for Tiffany to cheer for Aisha against her fellow Texan. Still Dixie and Aisha had some epic matches before, and it was a shame that there wouldn't be one tonight. Dixie had taken the night off, and wasn't in the building.

"Ms. Clemets? Will you be heading to the ring?" A man's nervous voice cut into her thoughts.
Turning,  she saw a stage hand standing there and raised an eyebrow.
"I ain't Dixie, ya know. She's got the night off." Tiffany replied, irritation in her voice. When Dixie first got in the league, Tiffany had often been mistaken for her. It had gotten old fast, but with her not so recent haircut, it never happened anymore. After all Dixie still had her long blonde hair, while Tiffany's locks had been cut to where they barely reached her shoulders.
"Oh no...." the stage hand let out a low groan. "Management is gonna fire me for this! I told Aisha that Dixie was in the building, after I saw you taking pictures in your outfit!"
"You're new, ain'tcha...?" Tiffany asked. When the man nodded, she sighed. "Aw...the hell with it. I ain't got nothing going on tonight. I'll try to make something happen out there that'll let everyone overlook your mess up. Tell the sound guys to get my music ready, and be at the curtain."
She smiled as the stage hand ran off. If things went as she hoped, Tiffany might be squaring off against one of her former idols main rivals, and doing a good deed for one of the techs at the same time.


A few minutes later, Tiffany's theme, I Burn, by Jeff Williams began to play as the cowgirl came out, with the stage hand held by an arm thrown over his shoulders.
"Hey, I hate to tell you this, darlin', but Dixie ain't here tonight." Tiffany called into the mic she was carrying. "What's your name?" She asked aside to the nearly terrified man.
"Richard, Ms . Laurence" He replied timidly. "I'm terribly sorry about all of this...."
"Richard here saw me and confused me with your old friend Dixie." Tiffany explained. "Somehow. Now go on, man, get on out of here" she added in a gently teasing tone, giving him a parting grin.
Releasing Richard, she let the man flee backstage to escape the crowd and cameras.

"Now then, Aisha, if you came looking for a dance partner for a music video or somethin' you might want to try one of the clubs downtown." Tiffany went on. "But you sounded like you were looking for a fight. If that's true, sugar, than I'm willing to go to the back, change into my gear and give you one! After all, me, and I'm sure everyone in this arena wanna know....does the Dancing Sista still got it? Or should she dance her ass back to MTV?!"

With that she lowered her microphone, waiting for Aisha's reply as the crowd cheered.

For a moment, Aisha was extremely confused. The first thing wrong was the music. She'd been expecting Yankee Rose to play. Not some new-age-techno-club-synth-whatever-the-hell music. She knew Dixie, and she knew Dixie loved Yankee Rose with all her heart and soul. She was fairly certain that AFW had bought the rights, too. She'd heard Dixie come out to it before. So, that was the first big question mark.

The second came when Dixie walked out from the back. Only it wasn't DIxie. There was an instant, just a fraction of a moment, where she'd actually thought it was the real deal. But the hair was different. The build was a little off. Different face. Close, real close, but Aisha would recognize the whiter half of Rodeo Drive anywhere in the world, and that wasn't what she was looking at here.

She stayed quiet as the girl talked and explained things - it figured, really. AFW had so many people they probably had trouble keeping them straight, half the time. It was annoying, yeah, and it put a little drizzle over her debut, but she could hang with it.

No, what was really bugging her was that niggling little deja vu knocking at the back of her head. She'd seen this girl before. It had been a while, but she'd watched a match with her. She'd fought Dixie, and...

Then it hit Aisha, right as the cowgirl was finishing her little speech. "Yeah...yeah! I remember you!" She narrowed her eyes and pointed right at her. "You're the wannabe that got Dixie in that bullshit draw a few years back." She remembered that match pretty damn well - she'd never let the world know, but she made a point of keeping up with her rival's matches, staying up-to-date and always recording them. "Got lucky and caught Dixie on a bad day. And you think you can roll with me? The real thing can't take me down, and I'm supposed to fear the Brand X version? Please."

She scoffed and stepped back, but she wasn't saying 'No'. Just getting in a few cracks. That MTV line got under her skin. "What's your name? Daisy? Fannie? Velma?"

If there was a way to get on Tiffany's bad side, it was to say that she was a lesser version of her supposed twin Dixie. And Aisha practically stated it. She reigned in her temper with a bit of effort. Although the match she had with Dixie was, in her opinion, one hell of a fight it was hardly definitive on which of them was the stronger, tougher Texan.

"Tiffany." She answered flatly. "And yeah it was a draw. But you're wrong about something: Dixie was the lucky one. But you, Beyonce, still haven't answered the question. Do you wanna come out and play....or are you gonna be too busy making another lackluster album?"

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as the crowd booed her statement. Not that Tiffany blamed them. Hell, she had a copy of Aisha's CD on her Ipod. When it came to music her tastes were all over the place. Still, Aisha managed to needle her, it felt fair that she return the favor.

Oh, no, she didn't. Tiffany didn't go there.

Aisha thought that, with age, she'd learned patience. She was a lot better than she used to be back in her Rumble Rose days, back when she was warring Dixie and everyone who liked Dixie, getting into fights over the pettiest of the petty shit. Sure, she could still talk smack, but it took a lot more than before to really get her riled.

But one of the things she'd never stand for was getting compared to Beyonce. That crap had been following her around ever since her career had started, and just when she thought it was squashed, it popped again. Tiffany wanted to hit below the belt? Fine.

"Don't have much taste for Dixie Clemets Light, but if you're the best the back's got, fine - I'll dance all over you." She nodded as the crowd started whipping into a frenzy - not quite the match they were expecting, but it would do as a good substitute. "Word to the wise: take a picture of your face while you're getting dressed. Something to remember the way it looks, now. Because when I'm through bashing that pointy little nose of yours in, believe you me, ain't nobody gonna mistake you for Dixie Clemets ever again!"

How. Dare. She.
Aisha finally came out and said it. And then on top of that threatened to beat her face in so nobody would mistake her for Dixie? Well that would definitely solve that problem, now that she thought about it, but there was no way a richie rich pop star was going to do her in. She vowed, by the end of tonight, Aisha was going to know exactly who she was....

"Here's a real piece of advice, Aisha: You're not going to be fighting Dixie tonight. If come to the ring thinking you are, your first night here is going to end very badly for you." Tiffany said, her voice taking on a severely serious tone.

With that, Tiffany tossed the mic to one of the techs before heading back behind the curtain.

Aisha would've liked to get the last word in, but Tiffany was gone before she had the chance. Not a problem. They'd have plenty to say at the actual match, might as well save the material for then and keep on flowing in the here and now.

"Pfft." She had a silent scoff as she tossed the microphone back to the stagehand and started to depart the ring. "Fought one cowgirl, fought 'em all." Tiffany was confident, Aisha would give her that much. But there was a big difference between looking like a Rumble Rose and fighting like one, and she'd gladly demonstrate it.

She took out a little time to sign a few autographs on her way back up then ramp, then slipped backstage.