"Two years ago, I was a nobody."

None of it matters.

"Eight months ago, no one knew my name."

The brown curtains move, allowing the morning sun to stream clumsily into the room, highlighting the copious, borderline obnoxious amount of smoke in the room. Silhouetted against the light, Mary Taylor Chang has been dressed for hours, jeans and a black tank top. Moving the curtain aside with her hand, she stares out into the parking lot. The sun flickers golden yellow in the deep, dark pools of brown she calls eyes. She knows that nothing good will come of this but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't try to stop the smoking, the drinking, the partying... she lets Junko have her moment. She's worked so hard for this and if her history is any indication, this won't last long before the crash. No matter how good things get, there's always a crash. Mary does her best to ignore the cigarette smoke assaulting her senses as she takes a deep breath.

"Now, many people know my name."

Junko's been through so much.

"The fans, they cheer for me."

Mary should know, after all.

"Match makers from all around the world ask for Souma Junko."

There's a loud knock at the door. Junko doesn't respond, the headphones drown out the noise. Mary picks up the television remote and turns it off with an audible "zonk" sound. Mary peers around the curtain and sees the man standing on the other side of the door. Well over seven feet tall, Samson Wright meets her gaze. She gives him a quick thumbs up, then pulls the curtain shut.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: Junko.

Junko doesn't hear her. Instead, she keeps dancing with no semblance of rhythm. She continues puffing away at the single cigarette that has any remaining life left. Another is done, nothing left. The third dangles lifelessly from her bottom lip. Mary picks up one of the empty beer cans and lightly tosses it at Junko, allowing it to land at her feet and splash her socks with the final remnants of the contents inside. Junko sneers and looks down at the can, feeling the moisture on her socks before muttering under her breath.

JUNKO SOUMA: Gross.

She lowers the headphones, then turns to look at the television, realizing it's been turned off. She looks at Mary, confused.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: Party time's over, Junko-chan.

Mary stands and stretches, then looks Junko up and down, almost unable to hide the look of disappointment on her face. The cigarette hanging onto Junko's bottom lip for dear life falls to the carpet below.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: Get your pants on. Time to hit the road.

Junko's eyes narrow. She removes the still-burning cigarette from her mouth and spits the other one on the floor. Never breaking eye contact with Mary, Junko points to the title belts on the bed.

JUNKO SOUMA: Champion now.

Mary nods, obviously not stupid.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: Yeah, pack those up, too.

Mary walks to the door and slides the lock out of place before placing her hand on the doorknob. She looks over her shoulder at the frustrated champion, who clearly isn't ready to return to the real world... still doing her best to continue riding the buzz created by TPW's faithful at the Bohemian Bash. The door opens just a crack and sunlight begins to flood into the room. There's a twinkle in Mary's eye.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: What, you didn't think that meant less work, did you? You're a champion in two major organizations now--

She smiles.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: -- say goodbye to your free time.

Weeks pass.

The world changes.

Intense International Wrestling announces to the world that they're ceasing operations... and Junko Souma drops the women's world championship to Stephanie "Cloud" Matsuda at Miracle Galaxy Pro's Confidence Inspiring Games event. To make matters worse, she laid down an open challenge to anyone who might dare face her for the TPW American Championship... and she was brutally assaulted by J Mont in response.

"Many people know my name now."

The crash... is in full effect.

"Dangerous people--"

She hasn't come out of her room in days.

"--people who want to hurt Junko."

Construction is almost complete on Mary's NuTestament compound. The living quarters were done first... and that's primarily where Junko has existed since the attack by J Mont. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she stares at the American championship resting on the dresser across from her. She stares at her reflection in the center plate, stares into her own eyes... and she hates what she sees.

"It was always my dream to become a number one professional wrestler. From the very beginning, as far back as I can remember, it is all I ever wanted."

There's a gentle knock at the door. Junko cringes at the thought of what lies on the other side. She knows it's the blonde one... the one in pink... the one who only cares about social media engagement.

"I began this year as a nobody... and I ran deep into this year as a failure. I did not succeed in my first IIW Women's World Championship opportunity... my dreams of being a number one deathmatch idol in America were crushed... three months in a row... a streak that nearly broke me... almost made me give up on my dreams entirely... and then I was eliminated from the TPW S.E.X. Cup Tournament, followed by the ultimate betrayal--"

Another gentle knock.

CYPRUS: I know you're in there, Junko.

"-- but I avenged that betrayal."

CYPRUS: I can smell the Ramen noodles and desperation through the door.

"I turned my luck around and it felt good. It was like a new beginning... I became stronger, more confident. I won the IIW Women's World Championship... and then I became the TPW American Champion. Every major victory gave me confidence... made me think that I could not be stopped."

Cyprus, blonde and clad in pink, looks surprised as the door slowly creaks open. A single sliver of light illuminates one of Junko's eyes as she peers out from her room.

CYPRUS: Hey, you were in there after all. What a shock. Look, these little disappearing acts aren't gonna fly. You have bookings to honor, media--

JUNKO SOUMA: Shut up.

CYPRUS: Cute.

Junko closes the door. Cyprus huffs and hits the door one good time with the heel of her palm.

CYPRUS: Hey!

"But I learned the hard way that I can be stopped... I am still the same stupid girl that I was eight months ago, only more experienced. I am better than those I defeated, yes... but I am not the best in the world. I am not a number one professional wrestler yet--"

CYPRUS: We need to figure out what you're doing next, Junko! What about J Mont's challenge? What about the GRAND AWAKENING, huh?!

She hits the door again. No answer.

CYPRUS: Junko!

"-- I still have work to do."

Cyprus turns away from the door, thumbs working overtime as she keys away at her phone, sending a text message.

CYPRUS: Why does Mary always send me to do this shit? She knows that little idiot doesn't listen to me-- and what kind of name is J Mont anyway? Stupid dick frat boy bullshit name!

Sitting with her back to the door, Junko listens as Cyprus curses under her breath, the sound of her voice eventually fading into the distance. There's silence in the room, finally. Silence and the TPW American Championship... and the box containing the ashes of her deceased mentor, Hideo Chiba, resting next to it.

And Junko.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: You've got a difficult road ahead of you, Junko-chan.

Both women sit in lawn chairs on top of an RV posted outside the compound. The sun is fat and orange, beginning to sink below the trees. The friscalating dusklight flickers in their eyes. There's a fire pit nearby, crackling away and giving the air a hint of hickory.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: You've tasted success and now you've got a target on your back. It's a real honor to be invited to some of the places you've competed... this Denzel Porter show you've got coming up, it might be bigger than anything you've ever done.

Junko stares off into the distance, silent.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: Aria Knight is going to do whatever it takes to win. She's going to try to hurt you--

Mary looks at Junko, genuine concern on her face.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: -- you have to be ready for anything.

JUNKO SOUMA: I know.

Junko takes a deep breath, then cuts her eyes in Mary's direction.

JUNKO SOUMA: Thank you... for helping me.

Mary nods and reaches over, patting Junko on the hand.

MARY TAYLOR CHANG: Yeah. No problem.

Two years ago.

Manchester, England.

Junko can smell the Tesco Imperial on Hideo Chiba's breath. Their room is cramped and cluttered, but it's free... paid for by Bob Mitchell and Intense International Wrestling. Standing next to him, she pulls her jacket tight around her and stares out the window at the city below. He takes another drink... his breathing is heavy, labored. In twenty-four hours, she'll make her in-ring debut against Kelly Raymond on IIW Combat. He speaks aloud in Japanese. His voice is raspy... gruff, forceful.

HIDEO CHIBA: < You know what is going to happen tomorrow, right? >

Junko doesn't answer. She simply stares out at the lights.

HIDEO CHIBA: < This girl... she will beat you. >

He doesn't care if his words hurt her.

HIDEO CHIBA: < You are not only inexperienced... but you are small and weak. Looking at you, you will be small and weak for a long time. Maybe forever. >

He lights a cigarette.

HIDEO CHIBA: < Get used to this feeling. >

He exhales smoke all around them. Despite them being indoors, despite it being night, his eyes are hidden behind aviator sunglasses.

HIDEO CHIBA: < I have done my best with you... but I am not a miracle worker, okay? So, this girl will beat you. It will hurt. You will probably cry because you are weak and I have not hurt you as much as I probably should have to prepare you for what is to come. >

She swallows hard, listening to every word.

HIDEO CHIBA: < But you will live... you will learn. >

"Two years ago, I was a nobody."

He taps his temple with one finger. His lips curl back, teasing a smile... revealing his crooked, yellow teeth.

HIDEO CHIBA: < That is what is important. >

"Eight months ago, no one knew my name."

She turns her head, looking up at him.

HIDEO CHIBA: < The hurt will make you grow. >

"Now, many people know my name... but, no matter how hard I have trained, no matter how many matches I have won, I am not unstoppable. I am not a number one professional wrestler yet."

He exhales smoke once again.

HIDEO CHIBA: < It will make you strong. >

"I still have work to do."