The camera flickers to life in a secluded corner of the Goodfellas Casino Arena training room. The usual glitz and glamour of Skylar “Sky” High is nowhere to be found. She is slumped on a wooden bench, a bag of ice pressed firmly against the back of her neck, her platinum-blonde hair matted with sweat and tear streaks through her makeup.

She looks up at the camera, and for the first time, the “Natural” charisma is replaced by a raw, jagged edge of fury. She tosses the ice bag aside, the sound of it hitting the concrete floor echoing in the quiet room.

“You proud of yourself, Emily?” Skylar’s voice is shaky, but it’s gaining strength with every word. “You couldn’t handle the fact that a ‘rookie’ out-wrestled you last week. You couldn’t handle the fact that the people in this city—my city—were chanting my name while you were sulking in the shadows.”

She stands up, wincing as she favors her lower back, the site of that brutal backbreaker. She leans into the lens, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

“Tonight was supposed to be about respect. It was about two athletes, me and Ricky, giving everything we had for these fans. It was a beautiful moment. But you don’t know the first thing about beauty, do you, Shaw? You only know how to break things. You’re ‘Platinum,’ right? Cold, hard, and hollow.”

Skylar grabs a nearby roll of athletic tape and starts wrapping her wrist with violent, jerking motions.

“You told me the house always goes bust? Well, let me tell you something about Las Vegas, Emily. We don’t just fold because some bully tries to push us off the table. You want to talk about revenge? You want to talk about ‘erasing’ me?”

She slams her hand against the wall, the sound like a gunshot.

“March 1st. Vendetta. I don’t want a ‘wrestling match.’ I don’t want a technical showcase. I want you in that ring so I can show you what happens when the ‘franchise player’ decides to fight dirty. I’m putting it all on the line. My health, my career, my pride. I am challenging you, Emily Shaw, to a match at the PPV.”

Skylar’s face is inches from the camera now, her breathing heavy and labored.

“The jackpot just turned into a war, Emily. At Vendetta, I’m not just betting on myself… I’m coming to collect everything you owe me. You better bring more than just a big boot, because I’m not staying down again.”

She stares intensely into the camera for a three-count of silence before shoved the lens away, the screen cutting to a “Sanctioned Violence Network Exclusive” logo.