The biggest thing about changing your character's entire world-view is having an establishing moment. Lucky for me, Tibby had already set me up with some help on that.

And he was holding its hand…? What is this?

El Tiburon and Thessaly Crasher scurry for a second to hide their – can I use this term? – PDA. Tibby puts a hand on Thessaly’s back as they walk towards me, none the wiser that I’d seen their little happiness.

“You've got a match with her.”

I give her a look-over. She looks like she should be even more awkward than I used to be, but there’s something in her I didn’t have until this year: an insane amount of confidence. I guess you have it to hold a belt so important.

“So you’re Thessaly Crasher. The big Number Two."

“That's right. Cuz I'm the shit.”

Okay, I had to give her that one. It got a smile outta me. What can I say? Well I didn’t say much, but seemed to have something more to add to her quip.

“Oh, but I'm not gonna face you.”

Tibby turns to her, eyes wide, teeth clenched, and words hissed.

“You said you would.”

“Yeah. That was before she declared herself the best without any grounds and turned her back on everyone.”

“But truffles, you already agreed to do this. Don't back out on me.”

Thessaly and I both curl our faces like someone let out a nasty ass protein fart and stare disgusted at the luchador who cut the cheese with that one ugly word.

"’Truffles?’"

“Uh, did I say that?”

“Yes, love. Out loud. It was awful.”

So I had seen them a little bit walking in, but I’d rather stuff like that come from people’s own lips, y’know? And not in a gross pet-name way.

“The hell is going on here?”

“Don’t worry about it. Me mind is made up. I won't face you and you do not have my respect. I have a code of honour.”

Tibby turns back to her. “The least honorable thing is calling off a fight you agreed to.”

“Don't preach to me. No it's not.”

“You’re makin’ me do this.”

“Do what?”

“What would Monkey D. Luffy say? What would Goku say? Huh? What would they say if they saw you walking away from a fight, still not knowing who the better girl was?”

“They're power fantasies. I don't care what they'd say!”

“Liar.”

Thessaly only stands, stares, and pouts before looking down like she’d been scolded. She looks to me.

“They wouldn't walk away. They couldn't. But I still won't fight you. I just have to know if you're on my level.”

That’s all I needed to hear.

“Then I'll hit you first. And we'll go from there.”

She smirks. If there were a camera, it’d zoom in on her eyes.

“Puroresu is the style of strikes. You'd better hit hard, baka.”

Before I know it, the lights are on bright. Tiburon is outside the ring. I’m standing across the ring with maybe the only woman I’d consider my equal in the ring. And then I hear something I’d never heard before.

“GRIMM! GRIMM! GRIMM!”

A crowd. Absolutely roaring. They’ve turned out in droves. And they’re chanting for me.

So I slap the taste out of Thessaly's mouth.

She barely flinches.

She just flips her hair back out of her face, looks back at me and smirks like she’s straight out of a kung-fu movie.

“...is that all?”

I smack her again, as hard as I can. Her body viciously whiplashes, snaps right back at me like I did nothing to her at all. And she didn’t come alone. A vicious strike of her own comes with her, giving me a smack across the face. If a lesser girl had been hit, they’d’ve lost like five teeth. But since everyone is lesser than me now, I also looked back to her like an action hero.

Only she was ready for that too and followed up her strike with a spinning back chop that cuts me down.

I hear about three hundred people go “Ooooooh!” all at the same time. I can’t lose here. Not like this. I have to show her. I have to show them.

So I kip-up. Right back to my feet. Wouldn’t HBK be proud?

But this is met with another smack to the face from Thessaly. I look right back and smack her back. We do this back and forth, back and forth. Eventually our tempo picks up and soon we’re just two warriors bashing each other in the middle of the ring, brushing off our foes hardest strikes just to get our blood blows in. And the crowd is losing their effing minds.

Whether we actually sell the hits is one thing, but the body tends to keep score even if you pretend not to. Eventually, we’re both incredibly dizzy and battered. Contrary to our craft, we weren’t exactly holding back on those hits. We try to get our footing like drunks on prom night. Both of us are spent.

Which is why Thessaly spinning around and cracking me in the jaw with a Roaring Elbow stunned me just as much as it did everyone else.

The hole in the crowd’s cheering when I go down is blown up by ten when I get right back up.

Thessaly looks like she’s seen a ghost.

So I give her a nice haunt in the form of a headbutt right to her chest.

The British brawler finally goes down. I don’t give her any time to breathe. I immediately grab her by both her wrists and hold my foot over her head.

Thessaly yells so that everyone in the arena can hear her.

“Stop! My respect has been earned.”

She transitions to a whisper, only to me.

“Stomp on me anyway.”

“What? No.”

“You're a heel now. You can't not.”

We’d already done everything we needed. I can’t exactly say I was used to giving crowds what they wanted because I wasn’t exactly used to crowds. But boy did they want more violence. A hiss from Thessaly kept pushing me.

“You bloody moron, stomp me!”

I had a better idea. I turned to Tibby. I could read the uncertainty in his eyes. I showed him there was none in mine. So much so, in fact, I made sure to speak so loudly the entire auditorium could hear that the Queen of Darkness wasn’t playin’ around.

“Hey, you, lucha loser. Give me your approval.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Say I'm better than you too. Do it or I squash her head like a pumpkin.”

Tibby’s eyes went from a look of being the only person in a room not in on the joke to sparkling like someone asked him the exact trivia question he could ace. He played right along.

“You villain! You wouldn't!”

“I'm the Queen of freakin' Demons, you tell me!”

We pause. God its hard staying serious when all you wanna do is laugh with a friend.

“Fine. I submit.”

He kneels before me. Like a good subject should.

And like the kind and honest Queen I am, I allow my subject to know exactly what I’m thinking.

“Screw it, I'll stomp her anyway.”

I give the most cartoonish evil laugh I possibly can, only for El Tiburon to dive atop his girl like she were John Smith and he Pocahontas.

“You truly are a fiend! These honorable champions have given the challenger her respect, but she insists to push the violence! She has disdain for the rules!”

I try to maintain my madwoman laugh. My abs are absolutely burning. Tiburon takes his pause to wait for the crowd to boo.

My laughter becomes incredibly nervous.

Nobody’s booing.

Nobody’s reacting.

The single worst reaction from an audience: complete silence.

Then they come to life.

“Yeah! Screw the rules!”

“We're teenagers! What those mean to us anyway?”

“Yeah! Burn it down!”

They begin chanting.

GRIMM! GRIMM! GRIMM!

I can’t do anything. All I can do is hold my championship belt high.

And smile. Heels don’t smile. But I can’t not.

I’ve worked my entire life, playing by the rules, doing everything I was asked, the way I supposed to. Perfecting my craft, down to the minute detail. All that time in the gym, on the canvas, working grapples and submissions. I finally wear the skin of a bitch and everyone loves me.

But like most life-defining moments, a phone goes off in the middle of it. Scratch that – an entire gymnasium of phones go off at the same time.

Thessaly, apparently getting to her feet in my moment in the sun, reads off her phone. She looks to me with the first bit of fear I’ve ever seen her have.

“The Kings. They're refuting it.”

“What do you mean?”

Tibby jumps in.

“Dante Blair tweeted

‘I told Faye she could have a title match with me if she did things by the book. This week, she made it crystal clear she has no respect for the rules. She no longer has my respect. And she no longer has a title match.’”

Thessaly elaborates next. “And Gwen Goro tweeted

‘Due to the conduct and corruption of the student body of one Faye "Grimm," the Student Council has unanimously decided to abate any and all challengers for her Technicians Championship. She will be formally stripped of her title next week."

As loud as it was a moment ago, the entire arenatorium falls deathly silent. Somehow, this one cuts even deeper than them simply not responding.

But like before, they don’t seem to give a damn.

“Screw them! Go Grimm!!”

“GRIMM! GRIMM! GRIMM! GRIMM!”