Brittani Bezos versus Avery McCullen

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Act 1: First Loss

Voice Over: I had it in my hands... I saw the top and I blew it. It's not the first time and it's not going to be the last. Everyone has that stood in the middle of the ring has lost at least once or twice... But I'm not going to let it happen again.

The scene opens on the beautiful city of San Fernado Spain. The show had just ended and the city was full of life. The fans had moved to the local bars that could be found within the city, along with a few of the superstars that had been in attendance that evening. The smells from the local restaurants filled the night air mixing with the open water just a few feet away from the boardwalks that lined the beach. The camera moves along the city street and soon comes to a stop on what appeared to be, what would be considered a dive bar. The camera moves to the interior where smoke drifted on the air, as the sound of laughter drifted on the air, along with the live ban that was on stage. The camera moves to a corner where we see Avery sitting with two men a little older than she was. These were the Mccullen brothers, her cousin's Marty and Sean. Johnny walks up to the table with drinks in hand and sets them in the middle of the table as Avery sighs leaning back in her seat.

Johnny: Avery, cheer up. You did one of a job on that girl...

Avery: Yeah, but it wasn't enough. I was so close.

Marty: You should have had me and Sean take care of her before the match.

Avery: It wouldn't have been fair if you did. I mean she beat me fair. She wanted it more I guess.

Sean: You've been champion before... And you'll do it again.

Avery sighs and takes a drink from the glass in front of her.

Avery: I guess I don't have it any more.

Johnny: Bullshit! You are still just as good as you've always been. You just had a bad night.

Marty: It happens. You both know that.

Avery sighs as the four of them finish their drinks.

Sean: Next round is on us.

Avery: Thanks.

Johnny: If I go with them, will you be...

Avery looks at him before he finishes the sentence.

Avery: I'll be fine.

He kisses Avery on the cheek and the three of them walk off as her phone goes off. She looks down at it and sighs as she scrolls through the message. Her eyes scan the message as she looks at the screen.

Avery: Who in the hell is Brittani Bezos? Is she that guy's kid or something? It doesn't matter... This time I'm not going to screw up.

Avery leans back as a man in his early 40's or late 30's sits across from her. He smiles as she looks at him with a curious look.

Avery: Can I help you?

Man: I caught your match tonight...

Avery: Really? Good for you.

Man: I bet on you to win tonight...

He taps his hand on the table as she leans forward with her green eyes catching the dim light.

Avery: That was dumb...

Man: Yeah, and you lost.

Avery: No shit.

Man: I lost a lot of money on you.

Avery : Well, I guess I'm not the only disappointed tonight.

Man: The way I see it, you owe me money.

Avery: It's not my fault. Go talk to your bookie.

He grabs Avery by the arm and smirks.

Man: I'm going to get my money back one way or another.

Avery: Let go, or you going to wish that you never heard of me.

Man: I saw the three guys you came in with. They're just as pathetic as you are.

Avery laughs as she gets to her feet, still in the man's grip.

Avery: If I were you, I would let go and walk away.

Man: Why? They're just drunks!

Avery: My husband is Southern, and my cousins don't take kindly to people messing with family. I'll warn you once more... Let me go and walk away.

The man laughs as Avery grabs the glass with her free hand and smashes it over his head. He staggers back and lets go as the boys arrive back at the table seeing what had just occurred.Johnny moves to Avery's side.

Johnny: You okay?

Avery: I'm fine, but he's not going to be.

Man: This isn't done!

Marty: It's four on one... You're outnumbered.

The man whistles as a group of men stand up, and the music seems to stop in the bar. Avery looks at Johnny and he nods, as a bar fight begins. Fists fly as the four of them start a brawl in the middle of the bar.

Avery: (Voice Over) I've always been able to handle myself on my own, no matter where I go, but something like this happens, its always good to have your family at your side, wouldn't you agree there Brittani? Then again what do you know? You're a rich snob that has never worked a day in her life. That's why I am surprised they even put me up against you. Total opposites, but maybe that's why. I've worked for everything that I have ever had, and you, you live off daddy's money don't you? A snob among those that actually knows what it means to struggle in life.

One of the men grabs Avery from behind. She struggles for a moment before hitting him in the midsection with a hard elbow and is released. She spins around and hits him with a hard punch square to the face, as teeth seem to fly from his mouth. He falls back and Avery smiles as she sees Johnny handling a rather large man, but soon Johnny drops him but not without a hard hit to his face. Avery rushes to his side and checks on him.

Avery: Are you alright?

Johnny: I'm fine. Where's your cousins?

Avery looks around the bar, seeing them fighting behind the bar while taking shots in between.

Avery: They're fine...

Johnny rushes toward another one, as Avery grabs a chair as someone runs at her. She swings and it connects.

Avery: (Voice Over) You've only managed to win one title and even then you had help. But that wasn't even in AWS. At least I've held titles here and a few other places. I've climbed the ladder time and time again just to get my hands on titles. From what I've seen of you in the ring, and in the back you think you're better than everyone else, but I'm afraid to tell you that you're no better than anyone else. You have money, so what? You control your own company? So what? No one cares! I've seen to many people like you come and go, and when you fall you have no one to blame but yourself in the end. Life is about what you make of it, and experiences not how much money you have.

Avery looks around the bar, seeing the last two men standing before the four of them.

Sean: You have a chance to run...

Man 1: Not a chance!

Marty: You really should... You're still out numbered.

Man 2: All you had to do was pay my friend what he lost...

Avery: And I told him that's not my fault. He should never bet on an unsure thing!

The sound of sirens could be heard coming toward the location. Johnny grabs Avery by the hand.

Avery: We have to go.

Johnny: You go. We'll take the blame!

Avery: I can't do that.

Marty: Yes you can.

Sean: Besides you can bail us out... And tell them what really happened.

Avery sighs but nods. She kisses Johnny and heads out a back door. She ends up in an alley way and sees the lights now filling the night with their brightness. She moves from the alleyway and sees a motorcycle sitting near by. She smirks as she sees the key was still left in the ignition. She hops on the back as she owned it, as it roars to life. She pulls off and heads through the traffic.

Avery: (Voice Over) God damn it why did I just leave them? I should have stayed... But I know they all meant well. If I get caught there's really no one to left to bail them out now is there? Brittani I'm not even sure where to really start with you. I've already made fun of the fact that you are nothing more than a little rich girl with to much money and time on your hands. Tell me how long do you actually think you're going to last against me? I've stood against bigger names than you, and walked out of those matches with the win. I'm not going to underestimate you, I mean that would be stupid of me to do. I take my matches seriously, no matter who I face. You don't the same experience that I do in the middle of the ring, let alone know what it means to start over again, and show that nothing will stop you in the end, no matter what happens.

She weaves through the traffic as if the motorcycle was part of her. The city passes by her as she heads toward the countryside.

Avery: (Voice Over) I have a feeling that you have this match won already, but I'm afraid to tell you that there is a lot of things that can go wrong, and will. Moves that are missed, chances not taken, or close calls that just make you scream. I don't plan on stopping until I get what I want, and that is the win over you, just to prove a point to you and the rest of the locker room. You can believe what you want but I know that you're not going to win this match. I'm not afraid to bleed let alone make anyone else bleed in the process. You can try to stop me with your money, and your so called talent. Prove to me that you are worth my time, but I already know you're not. If you think you're good enough, bring your snobby little ass to the wing and stand against me.

She smiles as she moves along the long stretch of road, that now started to get dark, as the lights of the city started to fade.

Avery: (Voice Over) "When I raise my flashing sword, and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, and I will repay those who hate me. Oh, Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints".

Avery drives off into the night, as the camera focuses on the star lit sky as the scene fades to black.

The screen opens in silence. Not with sirens. Not with fists. Not with broken glass and dive bar heroics.

Silence.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the Los Angeles skyline. The city hums below — orderly, profitable, controlled. Inside, everything is white marble and gold trim. The lighting is soft. Intentional. Brittani Bezos sits at the head of a long conference table, tablet in hand. She scrolls once. Twice. Stops. She doesn’t look angry. She looks unimpressed. She sets the tablet down and stands.

BRITTANI: Avery.

She says the name like it’s something mildly inconvenient.

BRITTANI: I watched your little vacation vlog. San Fernando. The beach. The smoke-filled dive bar. The heroic bar fight. The motorcycle escape.

She walks toward the glass wall overlooking the city.

BRITTANI: You really thought that made you dangerous, didn’t you?

A faint smirk crosses her face.

BRITTANI: You lost a match. Then you picked a fight with a drunk gambler who couldn’t handle losing money. And somehow… I’m supposed to be impressed?

She turns back toward the camera, folding her arms.

BRITTANI: You keep calling me a rich snob like it’s an insult. Like I’m supposed to flinch because you think I live off daddy’s money.

A soft laugh.

BRITTANI: You know what’s funny? You think wealth means weakness because you’ve never understood power beyond fists and family bar brawls.

She picks up a folder from the table and drops it with a sharp thud.

BRITTANI: You say you’ve worked for everything you’ve ever had. Good. So have I.

She steps closer.

BRITTANI: Do you know what it takes to run an empire? To control contracts, television rights, talent acquisitions? No. Because while you were elbowing drunk men in the ribs and stealing motorcycles… I was building leverage.

Her tone sharpens slightly.

BRITTANI: You think struggle is proof of superiority. That bleeding makes you real. That almost winning makes you noble.

She shakes her head.

BRITTANI: I don’t romanticize losing. I don’t sit in bars and tell myself I was so close. When I have something in my hands… I don’t drop it.

Her voice lowers.

BRITTANI: You said you don’t have it anymore. Maybe for once in your life, you were honest.

She circles back toward the table.

BRITTANI: You keep listing your titles. Former champion here. Former champion there. That’s adorable. Because the difference between you and me? You’re proud of where you’ve been. I’m focused on where I’m going.

She looks out at the skyline again.

BRITTANI: You called me a snob among those who know what it means to struggle. You think money means I don’t understand pressure.

She turns slowly.

BRITTANI: Pressure isn’t a man grabbing your arm in a bar. Pressure is knowing that when I walk into a building, entire divisions shift. Pressure is understanding that one decision from me changes someone’s career trajectory. Pressure is influence.

A beat.

BRITTANI: And I have more of it than you will ever understand.

She adjusts the cuff of her blazer.

BRITTANI: You said you’re not afraid to bleed. How inspiring. I’m not afraid to win. And that’s the part that terrifies people like you.

She steps forward.

BRITTANI: You keep talking about family. About cousins and husbands and Southern pride. That’s cute. You need three men to feel secure in a room. I walk into rooms alone. And I leave with everything I came for.

Her eyes narrow slightly.

BRITTANI: You think this match is opposites. Struggle versus silver spoon. Street fight versus boardroom. You’re wrong. This is discipline versus desperation.

She places both hands on the table.

BRITTANI: You fight because you need to prove something. I fight because I already know.

She tilts her head.

BRITTANI: You said you’ve faced bigger names and walked out with wins. Good. I’m not a bigger name. I’m a bigger presence.

She steps closer to the camera.

BRITTANI: You don’t step into the ring with me and have a match. You step into the ring with a brand. With expectation. With inevitability.

She picks up her phone, glances at it, then sets it down.

BRITTANI: You mocked the fact that I control my own company. You said no one cares. That’s the difference between us again. You care about who’s cheering in a dive bar. I care about who signs the checks.

Her voice turns colder.

BRITTANI: You think I’ve only won one title. You think I needed help. You think I haven’t been tested. You don’t know me. You know headlines. You know rumors. You know the version of me that makes you feel better about your own losses.

She steps in close.

BRITTANI: You lost. Fair and square. You admitted she wanted it more. That won’t be your excuse with me.

She straightens.

BRITTANI: Because when we step into that ring… you won’t be facing a gambler. You won’t be facing a drunk. You won’t be facing someone who needs backup.

A pause.

BRITTANI: You’ll be facing someone who has never confused noise with power.

She folds her arms again.

BRITTANI: You think I’ve already decided this match is mine? No. I’ve calculated it. There’s a difference.

Her expression hardens.

BRITTANI: You said you won’t underestimate me. That’s smart. Because underestimating me is expensive.

She walks back toward the window one final time.

BRITTANI: You want to prove a point. You want to show the locker room that the rich girl isn’t built for this. I don’t need to prove anything to them. I only need to prove something to you.

She turns, calm and certain.

BRITTANI: Money doesn’t make me weak. Power doesn’t make me soft. Control doesn’t make me fragile.

She steps forward one last time.

BRITTANI: You bleed. I build. You fight in bars. I own the building.

A faint, confident smile.

BRITTANI: You want me in the ring? Careful what you wish for.

Her voice drops to a final, measured tone.

BRITTANI: Because when this match ends… you won’t be riding off into the night. You won’t be quoting scripture under the stars. You’ll be looking up at the lights. And I’ll be standing over you. Not because of my money. Not because of my last name. But because I’m better.

She turns back toward the skyline.

BRITTANI: And unlike you… I don’t drop what’s already in my hands.

Fade to black.