Post by Blair Buchannan-Stylez on Sept 18, 2020 22:36:39 GMT -5
Don't hate me because i'm beautiful.
Hate me because i'm here to stay!
-Claudia Jordan
In
MOST WANTED
...A few short months ago...
“I WANT THAT BITCH OUT OF HERE, NOW!!!”
Blair shrieks at the top of her lungs. The tension in the set where they were filming an episode of Breakin’ All The Rulez could be cut with a knife. This was, of course, the infamous episode where Lauren McKay--better known (i guess?) as Sahara--was the special guest star. Sahara happened to also be a series regular on another Netflix original, so to push her even further apparently it had been mandated from above that Miss McKay be paired with Blair--who was the darling of Netflix at the moment--in hopes of creating ratings GOLD. The concept was simple. Blair and Sahara would team up to give a simple makeover to a woman in desperate need of one. It was idiot proof. Yet somehow, Sahara must have thought that Breakin All The Rulez meant breaking character. On camera, she would constantly undermine Blair which, of course, Blair did not appreciate at all.
For example: Blair would suggest a certain outfit for the ‘subject’ of the makeover, and Sahara would veto it; Even though that was NOT part of the script. Or, Blair would suggest a particular style of makeup and Sahara would say something along the lines of: “Ummm I don’t really think you need it!” Blair, ever the professional, managed to maintain her composure on camera but as soon as the showrunner yelled ‘CUT’ and it was time to set up the next scene, Blair was livid.
“I mean it! I want her GONE!” She shouts before storming off of the set--a luxury boutique in the heart of Beverly Hills--and over to her trailer parked on a blocked off side of Rodeo Drive, where she swings the door open so hard it slams against the side of the camper. She makes her way in and the door recoils shut behind her without any effort on Blair’s part.
Once inside, Blair sits in front of a large lighted vanity mirror where she is absolutely fuming. Soon enough the door to the trailer opens up and in steps a two person hair and makeup team who quickly surround her as she stares into the mirror.
Makeup Artist: “Blair honey, is there anything we can get you?”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “That depends...do you have a time machine handy so I can properly instruct that cunt’s parents on how to properly utilize the pull-out method?”
Hairstylist: “Nooo...not on hand...but maybe a nice cup of herbal tea or something to help calm your nerves?”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I WANT A FUCKING CUP OF EARL GREY RIGHT NOW?! Just do your fucking job and touch me up so I can get this shit show of a day over with.”
Without another word the hair and makeup artist begin to work their magic, making sure each hair is in place and every false eyelash is intact. Blair stares at them through the reflection of the mirror, her jaw clenched. She’s dressed in a simple heather grey long sleeved zip-up hoodie that doubled as a very short dress. The zipper was halfway down and exposed a black strapless lace bodice underneath, boasting her ample cleavage.
A black lace choker with a diamond studded ‘B’ dangling from it wrapped around her neck. Her long, tanned, toned legs were punctuated by a pair of black high heeled strappy stilettos with the straps spiraling up to right above her knees. Blair’s long, dark hair was done up all big and bouncy with tons of volume and loose waves reminiscent of a 90’s Cindy Crawford, with part of it sweeping over one eye. She sighs, essentially cooling off a little bit before she begins to speak; seemingly to her glam team but who honestly knows at this point?
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “I don’t know who this two-bit hack thinks she is, but NOBODY comes on MY show and tries to make me look like a fool. I promise I will make that fucking nobody regret the day she ever thought she could try me like that. This whole operation is just SHIT! I didn’t pass on working with other networks just to be treated like garbage by NETFLIX of all places! First, I need to get my agent on the phone because he has some serious explaining to do...then, I need some time to think...because I don’t know how...and I don’t know when...but I swear on my YSL boots, sooner or later…”
I'm going to ruin Sahara.
...Earlier This Week...
Back in their hotel room where they were staying since the last Showcase, Blair and Johnny are relaxing in the bedroom. Johnny is seated at a nearby desk talking to someone on his phone while Blair casually flips through a fashion magazine while laying on the bed in a long cotton robe and matching slippers. Johnny is clearly talking business as usual with someone and abruptly ends the call before standing up.
LA Johnny Stylez: “Hey gorgeous I need to step out for a second.”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Mkay…” She says as she flips another page of the magazine.
LA Johnny Stylez: “You gonna be alright here all by yourself until I get back?”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Mhmm…”
LA Johnny Stylez: “Beeee? What do you have planned?”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Nothing…” She says with a mischievous smile.
LA Johnny Stylez: “Babe..”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “What?! I said nothing! Now go so you can hurry back.”
LA Johnny Stylez: “Uh huh…” He says with an arrogant smirk. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do while i’m gone.”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Well that doesn’t leave me very many options now does it?”
Johnny leans in and plants a kiss on Blair’s forehead before heading out of their suite. Blair waits to her the door shut, and then a few more seconds until she hears the ‘ding’ of the elevator in the hall...once she hears the elevator doors shut, Blair springs up out of the bed and tears off her robe revealing a full ensemble underneath which includes: a nude colored strapless top and a pair of matching corduroy mini-shorts. She slips on a pair of black pointy toed stilettos before rushing over to the nearby vanity where she keeps all of her cosmetics and fragrances; a place she knew Johnny would never venture. After rummaging around for a bit, Blair pulls something out and holds it up, her eyes dancing with delight: Her very own hot pink crystal stoned taser.
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Hello, lover…”
She says, pressing the buttons on either side of it and watching as the electricity lights up at the end of the weapon. That trademark alligator grin creeps across her lips. Blair had always had something of a wild streak but recently she had become more sadistic. Ever since that odd dream when she was trapped in the ice chamber and her dead mother came to speak with her...something has just been slightly off about her. Not bad...but just...kind of different. She’d always been viscous before but that was usually out of necessity. Now, it was like she was just vicious for sport. From the first time she saw Johnny tase Michelle, it felt like a fire had been lit inside of her at the same moment Miss Michelle was getting lit the fuck up. She’d done drugs before, but this...this feeling of control. It was even more addictive. Up until her death, Blair’s life had been controlled by her mother since she was a child. Now she was in control and for the first time ever she could feel it.
She tucks the taser into her back pocket and heads out of the bedroom, grabbing two magnetic hotel keycards on the way. She soon makes her way out into the hallway of the top floor of the hotel, which they reserved completely for themselves...and for their special guest. Standing guard at the door to the room next to theirs is a guard, who Blair flashes her charming smile at before taking out one of the keycards.
Guard: “Excuse me, Mrs. Stylez but I’m not supposed to let anyone in there.”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Oh, no Aaron it’s totally fine, don’t worry. Johnny said it’s totally fine.”
Guard: “But..”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “It’s girl stuff….you know….feminine issues? We can’t have her bleeding all over the room now can we?”
The guard looks visibly uncomfortable and steps aside. Blair pats him on the shoulder before swiping the key card in front of the door and letting herself into the room. Once inside Blair wanders around the suite before making her way into the bedroom area where she finds an irate looking Miss Michelle chained to the bed. Michelle’s eyes narrow once she sees Blair but due to the ball gag in her mouth she’s unable to utter more than a few muffles grunts.
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Surprise, bitch!...what’s the matter? You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” She says, nodding to one of the cameras set up by the Syndicate in the corner. “Or did you think I wasn’t watching?”
Blair slowly reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the custom made, blinged out taser. She holds it up and presses the buttons on the side, proving that it works. Michelle’s eyes widen and she shakes her head as Blair slowly approaches the bed.
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “You know, I don’t get you bitches nowadays...so mouthy but when it’s time to put up you wanna change your tune...well come on….sing for mama!”
With that, Blair jams the metal end of the taser into one of Michelle’s ribs and presses the buttons, emitting volts of electricity into her body.
ZZZZZAAAAAAAAAPPPPP!!!!!
Miss Michelle: “NNNNNNNNNGH!!!!!!!”
She wails for a moment until Blair pulls back, a wide grin across her lips and her eyes wide. She looks positively elated.
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Oh em gee that like never gets old! So tell me….seen any good movies lately?...Oh nevermind...Listen, I heard you had a lot to say about me earlier...so I figured i’d give you the chance to say it to my face!”
Blair reaches forward as if she’s going to undo the ball gag but then stops short before pulling back.
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Oh wait...I forgot last time that happened you spit on my husband and I just got my makeup done so...instead i’ll just do this!”
ZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAPPPP!!!!!!
Blair once again tases Michelle in the ribs, holding on a couple more seconds before releasing the buttons and pulling back. This time a little bit of drool runs down Michelle’s chin.
Miss Michelle: “AAAAUUUNNNNNNGGHH!!!!!!!”
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Keep it down! You’re going to totally ruin this for me! My God...see, it’s hoes like you and Sahara I can’t stand. You talk a big game but when it comes down to it you’re nothin but a couple of little bitches. You know...Johnny says your time with us is almost up...But i think we should keep you! It’s like having my own little pet. Honestly Michelle, I feel like you’re a really good listener. Most people interrupt me when I try to talk but not you...It makes me feel like I could vent to you….”
ZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAPPPPPPP!!!!!
Blair once again tazes Michelle, this time in her neck and holds it so long that Miss Michelle’s body begins to convulse, her legs shaking wildly on the bed. Blair lets out a little giggle at the sight before pulling the taser back. Michelle’s head goes limp. Blair uses one hand to check for a pulse and once she feels one, smirks before slipping the taser back into her shorts.
Blair Buchannan-Stylez: “Just kidding! But seriously, glad we had this talk though. By the way you look great! Have you lost weight or something?”
Clearly that being a rhetorical question since Michelle was unconscious, Blair turns around and makes her way back out of the hotel room.
Present Day
Hollywood, California
Usually between shows Blair would fly back to the estate she shared with Johnny in New Orleans. Nothing beats sleeping in your own bed, amirite? However with the recent events surrounding whatever the hell was going on with Johnny which lead to someone breaking into their home and stealing his truck left Blair feeling less than safe in their shared residence. So after her little “visit” with Miss Michelle, Blair opted to stay in her old condo which was located in Hollywood. It made sense since Stairway to Heaven would be taking place only a stone's throw away, and with everything going on over the past few months Blair needed to check in on her modeling agency which was Downtown anyway.
After a long day of tending to her many business ventures outside of OPW, Blair sat on the floor of her living room wearing a simple silk robe and a fluffy pair of slippers. Her long dark hair was down in loose mermaid style waves, and she was enjoying a glass of wine while scrolling through instagram on her phone. It had been a little while since she went live for her many many followers so she figured, what better time than the present. So, after checking her appearance in a nearby mirror--there was never one too far away at any given moment--Blair smirks and presses the little icon on the app to ‘go live.’ She waits a moment before she begins to speak.
It’s funny...when I first won the Southern Championship, it was something of a vanity project for me. A cute little status symbol that separated me from the common folk in OPW...and then when I lost it to Al Envy, even though it was just for a week, I realized that it meant much more to me than that.
You see it’s one thing to just bump your bums about being the best; anybody and everybody does that. You’re supposed to have confidence and you’re supposed to believe you’re better than everyone else. It’s another thing completely to actually be able to prove it.
I could go on and on about the many matches I’ve won and the people I’ve beaten over my decade in this business prior to OPW but in reality none of that shit matters because nobody cares. I know this is true, because I’ve seen dozens of competitors in OPW do the same thing and honestly it bores me to fucking tears. I COULD go down the very long list of formidable opponents I’ve beaten but It’s like...okay, but what have you done lately Blair?
...well, I’m glad you asked…
Get your notepad ready!
Get your notepad ready!
Not only have I faced some of the most allegedly legendary competitors while in OPW but I did it victoriously and, of course, with style. I first snatched the title from Allison Riggs Preston, then defended it against my former boss Jesse Styles...and like I mentioned before, I did lose the Southern Championship to Alan Envy but I won this bitch back from him a week later. Since then I’ve bulldozed through people like Tommy Kain, and my most recent defense against Jayson Violence will go down as one of the best matches in OPW HISTORY! I don’t say all of this to brag...well...actually I do. Because the point I’m trying to get to is…
What have you done lately, Sahara?
I mean aside from make a mockery of this business, which I know sounds strange coming from me of all people. But seriously! Who have you beaten? Nobody of any importance. What have you proven? Certainly not that you’re some force to be reckoned with. When you first came into OPW you started off trying to prove some kind of point by allegedly losing matches on purpose and to this day I still don’t know what kind of message you were trying to send. Is it that you were able to fail your way upwards to a match against me for my title?
Well congratulations!
I guess?
I guess?
But don’t get it twisted. You haven’t done anything novel or noteworthy. Failing upwards is like...one of the cornerstones of America these days. Just take a look at our President. Every dog gets their day and yours just happens to be right around the corner but you’re one dog who is about to get put to sleep, honey. The craziest thing about all this is you think this is some kind of grudge match to settle some feud that you created all because of what? Me snubbing you at a Netflix party?
Wow, Serengeti!
didn’t realize my approval meant so much to you!
didn’t realize my approval meant so much to you!
You demand respect,
But you do nothing to earn it.
You want to be treated like a peer,
But you have an inferiority complex.
…and worst of all…
You tried to compare yourself to me.
But you do nothing to earn it.
You want to be treated like a peer,
But you have an inferiority complex.
…and worst of all…
You tried to compare yourself to me.
This little Single White Female shtick of yours has gotten old. It was old the day I met you at that Netflix party. It was old the day you tried to show me up on the set of Breakin All The Rulez. My crucial mistake was giving you the time of day because I suspect that’s when you began to feel a sense of validation where there shouldn’t have been. So for that, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I let you think that what you do or say has any bearing in my life.
I’m sorry I allowed your actions to put you in a match against me for my title.
I’m sorry for the inevitable but spectacular ass whooping I’m about to hand you at Stairway to Heaven.
Hell, I’m even sorry my husband and I got your show cancelled because clearly it didn’t make you go away.
I’m sorry I allowed your actions to put you in a match against me for my title.
I’m sorry for the inevitable but spectacular ass whooping I’m about to hand you at Stairway to Heaven.
Hell, I’m even sorry my husband and I got your show cancelled because clearly it didn’t make you go away.
...But most of all…
I’m sorry for my 10 thousand dollar boots!!!
Yeah bitch you heard me right! did you think I forgot about that shit? You think I forgot how you snuck into my trailer like a little fucking creep and trashed my wardrobe and my FAVORITE YSL BOOTS?! They were covered it Swarovski crystals! Do you know how hard I had to work all these years to be able to get those boots?! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THE WAIT LIST WAS?! Did you know there are only ten pairs IN EXISTENCE and unlike you, they’re irreplaceable?
There are three things you don’t fuck with:
My man
My money
And my wardrobe.
My man
My money
And my wardrobe.
You tried and failed to wage a war against The Syndicate so you’re lucky my husband didn’t have to lose any sleep over your pathetic ass. You already tried fucking with my money, but I let that shit you tried on the set of my show slide a few months back because frankly I was, and am, too booked and too busy to be dealing with the likes of you.
BUT MY BOOTS?!
Hell fuckin no!
Hell fuckin no!
If this were the Middle East I’d have BOTH of your fucking hands cut off for that treasonous ass shit you pulled for CRIMES AGAINST FASHION! Look, you obviously like walking around looking like a ragamuffin and that’s your business! But only a jealous, spiteful, hatin’ ass bitch would destroy another woman’s priceless couture just because you can’t afford them NOR could you ever pull them off because YOU'RE NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL! I’ve made claims before about people wanting to be me but, bitch, you take it to a whole new level. At first it was kind of funny trading shots with you...I must admit I really enjoyed jumping you not once but twice and of course putting your face through that mirror.
...By the way...
How’s the new nose treatin’ ya?
You’re welcome!
How’s the new nose treatin’ ya?
You’re welcome!
DON’T FUCK WITH ME.
because I promise you will regret it.
because I promise you will regret it.
It’s actually fitting that this is a Last Woman Standing match because that just means I’ll have more time to fuckin’ dismantle you bit by bit until you’re so unrecognizable that they won’t even let you into your own gym back in Southside, Chicago! By the time I’m done with you there going to need a shovel to scoop up the bloody slushy mess that is your body up off the ring. and when it’s done..and you’re in the ICU so fucked up that even my plastic surgeons can’t put you back together...when you’re sucking your breakfast, lunch, and dinner through a straw for the rest of your life...wondering what you did to deserve this? Remember all the time I tried to warn you. Remember all the times you ignored my warning….and remember…
YOU DID THIS
to yourself!
to yourself!
XOXO.