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27 August 2013 Candance Bailey vs Natalie Dormer

Page history last edited by Archer844 10 years, 7 months ago

Candace Bailey 01.jpg Natalie Dormer.jpg

Apartment House Wrestling

Posted by Rampant Fighting on August 27, 2013, 10:20 am

Candace Bailey wore a black sports bra and shorts that exposed the pale long block of her torso and seemed chosen specifically to highlight the definition of her abs. In her scruffy white sneakers and ankle socks and with a bottle of water in her hand she could have been on her way to a workout.

‘You look as glamorous as a slapped arse,’ Natalie said. ‘Do you really think that someone will watch tape of you wearing that and want to sign you?’

‘No, but I think they might want to once they see me drop this tight little butt on your weird, stroke-victim mouth. You know, the same way I did last time we got together.’

Natalie looked down at the ground and tried to avoid letting the irritation show on her face. That fight had stayed in her mind like a pebble under her heel, or a splinter in the fleshy part of her finger, or any one of those analogies that are used to describe a lingering irritation. And although without exception the people who advised her career had told her to move on from it, she still thought about Candace often, and the day after she had beaten January on the beach she phoned Candace’s agent to offer her a rematch.

‘So if I beat you I get all the video of the fight to show to whoever I want? That’s the deal here, right?’

‘If you beat me, if I beat you, whatever. You can have all the footage, yes. Only don’t complain to me when all that you get is a recording of the most dispiriting moment of your life. If you ever summon the courage to watch it back then you’ll understand how your husband feels when you force him to put on your wedding videos.’

The words made Candace flinch. She pressed her lips together. Her hands formed into fists and she tapped them gently against her thighs. ‘You smirking slut. Take off your clothes so I can slap that smug smile off your mouth,’ she said.

‘In a minute. I promised my agent that I’d email her about an audition first. I find that life can get quite busy when you are in demand.’

Like so often before a fight the verbal back and forth helped to relax her. She unfastened her jeans and her thin linen shirt and threw them into a corner. She was left wearing a yellow lace bandeau bra and panties that had sheer panels revealing her rump. She felt dressed for a different occasion to Candace, but the contrast between them gave her a strange kind of confidence. Because if a fight was nothing more than just a physical contest to be won by the most gifted athlete then Natalie had no hope of beating Candace Bailey. The outfits they wore showed that both of them realised it was more complicated than that.

Natalie had lost the first fight on the outside, broken down by Candace’s vicious kicks that had left her thighs covered in bruises that turned purple then black and then yellow and lasted for over a week. This time they fought in close, on the floor mostly, pulling hair and twisting each other into scissor holds and even biting if there was no other way to get free. But still after an hour it was Candace who sat down hard on Natalie’s chest and pinned her wrists to the carpet and grinned as they made eye contact with their faces a few inches apart.

‘Just like I said. Same as before.’ Her voice was a panting gasp. Her entire body seemed to move in time to her breathing. ‘Now smile for the camera, whore, because you’re about to see the whole of the moon.’

Always have a back-up plan. Win the night, not just the fight. Glib phrases printed on cheap paper and posted on locker doors and dirty walls, but Natalie had taken them to heart. Her vision was a blur of bright lights and bursting color, and she blinked hard and stared at the red welts that started on Candace’s pale tits and ran all the way to her throat. Then she lifted her head and laughed.

‘You know, not a single one of those cameras is working. Wave at them if like. Do whatever you want to me now but no one will ever see it. You did this for nothing. You won’t get signed, you won’t get work, and you won’t get paid.’

The expression on Candace’s face did not change, unless perhaps her mouth twitched just a little. Natalie lay back flat on the carpet and let her body go limp as she was pulled into a seated position and Candace’s bicep tensed underneath her chin and started to coke her. Vaguely she wondered why a green light was blinking on and off high up on the wall.

****

The way that people looked at her as she walked through the reception area was so strange that Natalie hurried into the downstairs bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror, thinking that perhaps she had something stuck in her teeth. The black eye that Candace had given her was still visible beneath her make-up but from what she could see there was nothing else that was unusual about her appearance. Still, the strange looks continued. When she got to the locker room she threw her bag on the bench and stared around at the walls and pinched her nose between her fingers like someone suffering from a headache.

‘Can anybody tell me what the #### is going on?’ she said when she walked into the gym. ‘Have I grown an extra nose? Because I am not in the mood to have people gawking at me all day.’

Kirsten Dunst stepped down off the treadmill and started to dab at her face with a towel. Her skin was shiny and blotched from her exertion, and she kept glancing surreptitiously at a point above and behind Natalie’s head.

‘Okay. You know how round here you never get told what’s going to happen? Like the way that they got rid of Carrie and replaced her with Alex?’ She shifted her weight from one foot to the other like someone waiting in line for the bathroom. She wouldn’t look Natalie in the eye.

‘Say it, would you. Whatever it is, Kirsten, stop pissing your knickers and just say it.’

‘Denise has gone. They hired someone else. They let her go and hired someone else.’

‘A different trainer. Fine. Denise never did anything to help us anyway.’

‘Not a different trainer, Natalie. No.’ Emily Blunt had her phone in her hand and a black bag with a silver buckle hanging from her right shoulder. She gestured with her head at a row of televisions hung from a gantry above the stationary bikes. On each one of the screens Candace Bailey was smiling and looking straight at the lens as she wiggled her bum on Natalie’s face. ‘After you had them turn off the cameras I called up the building manager and asked for them to be switched back on. The world shouldn’t be deprived of such a spirited contest, don’t you think, even if the ending was more than a little undignified.’

‘They signed you to replace Denise?’

‘Technically yes. Although I like to think that really they signed me to replace you.’

Natalie turned her face to one side and held up her hand as if to ward off a blow. She could smell Emily’s perfume and the minty waft of her breath. She pulled at the loose material of her top and tried to make something coherent out of her thoughts.

‘So what? I beat you before, Emily. Left you arse up on the canvas if I remember it accurately. I don’t know why this has happened or who on earth thought it would be a good idea to bring you here, but stay out of my way or you’ll be down there again.’

‘I’m afraid things won’t work quite like that. You’ve had your moment, Natalie, and you blew it when you couldn’t beat Kate. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have phone calls to make.’ She bumped hard against Natalie’s shoulder as she walked by.

(More roster turnover than an NFL team! I like Emily, and it seemed like she was in danger of falling off the radar. Hopefully now she won't. And realistically there were only a limited number of interesting fights to be made with Denise.)