AHW: Songstress Drowning Her Sorrows (feat. Chrissy Costanza)
Willa Holland captured a bar fight between Chrissy Costanza and Millie Bobby Brown after Re: Ignite!
Chrissy Costanza:
(27, 5’1”, 107lbs, 1:1 FCBA, Queens of Absolution)
Millie Bobby Brown:
(19, 5’4”, 104lbs, 19:3 FCBA, Lookout! Boxing)
(Results: Lookout / Words: Queens)
There sat Chrissy, arms resting effortlessly on the polished oak of the bar. A black tank top hugged her ripped abs, her biceps threatening to form a mountainous peak with even the slightest flex. Black jeans, cut to perfection, accentuated her athletic figure, hinting at the power that lay beneath. She nursed a glass of something strong, her mood as dark as her attire. There was a certain tension in the air; even the likes of Willa Holland dared not approach the defeated Queen. The Queens of Absolution might have made the winning statement tonight, but no one was brave enough to remind Chrissy of that.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the bar - Millie Bobby Brown had just made her entrance. Dressed in a purple crop top that teased her own well-toned midriff and blue jeans that hugged her hips just right, she was a sight to behold. There was an air of arrogance about her, a smirk creeping onto her face as her eyes met Chrissy's across the room. Millie's triumphant entrance was a stark contrast to the brooding figure of Chrissy at the bar, setting the stage for an encounter no one would forget.
As if drawn by the electric tension between them, Millie sauntered over, an unmistakable swagger in her step. Her smirk grew wider as she closed the distance, her eyes never leaving Chrissy's. Her voice cut through the low murmurs of the bar like a knife, dripping with sarcasm, "Still haven't found your dignity yet, Chrissy?" The bar fell into a hushed silence, awaiting the storm that was sure to follow. Millie's words hung in the air, a taunting challenge echoing in the stillness. Chrissy's eyes narrowed, her hands tightening around her glass - a clear signal that the atmosphere was about to heat up.
The scene was set. Chrissy turned slowly on her bar stool, the movement causing the fabric of her tank top to stretch tight across one bicep, the muscle bulging ominously like a warning of the storm ahead. Her dark eyes looked like smoldering embers as they met Millie's in a fiery stare-down. With a voice as cold as winter, yet fiery as a lit match, Chrissy said, "You better watch it, Millie. I'm not in the mood for games tonight." Then, flexing her muscle even further - a silent, deadly threat - she added with enough venom to make a cobra envious, "One more word, and I'll fuck you up." The entire bar held its breath, waiting for the impending explosion.
Millie, clearly overconfident with her earlier victory, had the audacity to throw another punch, this time verbal. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned casually on the bar, choosing to ignore Chrissy's warning. "Oh, Chrissy, still sore about losing to me at 'Re: Ignite' tonight?" she mocked, her voice ringing loud and clear in the silent bar. Her words were a slap in the face of the recently defeated, a reminder of the bitter sting of that defeat. Chrissy's muscles tightened visibly at the taunt, her bicep bulging threateningly. Her eyes turned into hardened steel, a blaze of anger and challenge flickering in their depths. The bar was on the brink of a titanic showdown, the tension in the room as palpable as the anticipation-filled silence.
The bar was a live wire ready to snap, and it did when Chrissy's fury surged forward like a blazing inferno. In a swift, fluid motion, she let go of her glass - the sharp clink of it hitting the counter a startling contrast to the silence that had taken over the bar. With the grace of a lioness, she rose from her seat, her body radiating an explosive energy, a primal warning. She turned towards Millie, her bulging bicep now an instrument of her anger, a piston primed and ready to strike. With a swift jab as sudden and devastating as a lightning bolt, Chrissy slammed her fist into Millie's exposed midriff. The impact was a symphony of raw power - the sound of knuckles connecting with soft flesh resonating through the room. Millie doubled over immediately, a gasp escaping her lips as her body reacted to the unexpected blow. Her smug grin had now been replaced with an expression of surprise and pain, her eyes watering as she tried to regain her composure. The bar was silent again, the tension replaced with a mix of shock and admiration as everyone processed what just happened. Even Millie herself looked taken aback - caught off guard at the sheer force behind Chrissy's punch.
With a swift and calculated movement, Chrissy's arm coiled around Millie's neck like a python locking onto its prey. Her bicep, a hardened instrument of her fury, was flexed to its limit, cutting off Millie's air supply in a merciless chokehold. Millie's eyes widened with a mix of shock and fear, her hands scrabbling at Chrissy's ironlike arm in a futile attempt to break free. Chrissy's grip was unyielding, her bicep pulsating with raw strength as she tightened her hold. Simultaneously, her free hand transformed into a lethal weapon, meting out punishment at every turn. With a savage thrill, she rained down blow after blow onto Millie's now defenseless body, each hit echoing around the silent bar.
The bar turned into a battlefield, the deafening silence punctuated only by the brutal sounds of Chrissy's fists against Millie's body. Millie's earlier arrogance vanished, replaced by the sheer terror of the onslaught she was under. The entire bar watched in either horror or awe as Chrissy unleashed the pent-up fury of her loss earlier in the night. It was a massacre, a brutal display of raw power and retribution. This was the battle they had been robbed of during the "Re: Ignite" match. The officials had stepped in then, preventing this exact scenario. But here in the bar, there were no rules, no limits, only Chrissy, her relentless fury, and a defeated Millie gasping for breath.
Chrissy stood tall, a tower of rage and power in her black tank top and jeans, her muscles rippling under the strain of her hold on Millie. The veins across her pumped biceps stood out in harsh relief, a testament to the raw strength she possessed. Her abs, usually the picture of aesthetic fitness, were now flexed into a hardened armor of sheer force visible through the skin-tight cloth - a clear reflection of the fury that surged within her. Every inch of her body spoke of a fierce warrior, her stance predatory and her movements calculated with deadly precision.
Millie, on the other hand, had turned into a picture of defeat and pain. Her once confident figure was now bent double under Chrissy's iron grip, her body straining against the brutal hold. Her hands, once casually resting on the bar, were now feebly grappling with Chrissy's unyielding arm in a desperate bid for escape. The usual grace of her lithe body was replaced by the helpless struggle of a cornered victim. Millie's defiant silhouette was now marred by her obvious distress - a stark contrast to the unstoppable force that Chrissy had turned into.
With a swift and deliberate movement, Chrissy changed her stance. Shifting her weight, she released Millie from her merciless chokehold only for a brief instant, a fraction of a second that felt like a lifetime in the tension-filled bar. Just as quickly, she reestablished her iron grip, this time forcing Millie into an upright position. The change was instant and chilling - Chrissy's body language morphed into something even more deadly, her biceps flexing and bulging under the strain of her grip on Millie's neck. The gleam in Chrissy's eyes was clear and terrifying, indicating a vicious plan that sent a cold jolt of fear through the spectators.
The spectators froze as Chrissy's voice sliced through the tension-laden silence, her words heavy with menace. "Let's see how flexible you are," she drawled, an eerie calmness in her tone that belied the brutal grip she had on Millie. A ripple of anticipation spread through the crowd as she began to perform her signature backend, her lithe body flexing backward with an ease that spoke volumes about her athletic prowess. Chrissy's bicep coiled even tighter around Millie's neck, eliciting a strangled gasp from the shell-shocked actress. A wave of panic washed over Millie's face as she realized the horrifying reality of the situation. She was trapped, forced into a backbend far beyond her physical capabilities, her body straining against the relentless pull of Chrissy's arm. Her eyes widened in pure terror, her mouth opening to let out a scream that was barely a whimper. As Chrissy's backbend reached its peak, a gasp rippled through the crowd. The sheer strength and control she demonstrated were awe-inspiring, even as the brutality of what she was doing to Millie became increasingly clear. The bar had become a stage for Chrissy to display her dominance, and she was giving a performance that would not be forgotten anytime soon.
As Chrissy held her signature backbend, an almost inhuman feat of athletic prowess, Millie could feel the hardened armor of Chrissy's abs pressing against her back. The pulsing rhythm of Chrissy's heart was the only sound that filled Millie's ears, each beat amplifying the fear coursing through her veins. Chrissy's voice, laced with a chilling mix of satisfaction and menace, growled into Millie's ear. "I told you I would fuck you up," she sneered, her bicep tightening around Millie's neck in a brutal show of power. The look on Millie's face was one of pure terror, her eyes wide and filling with tears as she felt her air supply being cut off. The bar was filled with a hushed anticipation, as they witnessed Chrissy give them the match they had been robbed of at the "Re: Ignite" event. With a final squeeze of her bicep, Chrissy cut off Millie's air supply completely, her body going limp in Chrissy's unyielding grip. The room fell silent as Chrissy, victorious and unapologetic, stood over the unconscious Millie, the crowd's stunned silence a testament to the brutal spectacle they had just witnessed.
With a final, victorious sweep of her eyes over the silent crowd, Chrissy reached for the drink she'd been nursing all evening. The ice cubes clinked menacingly against the glass as she held it aloft, the amber liquid glinting in the low bar light. A wicked grin spread across her face as she turned back to the defeated Millie, unconscious and thoroughly beaten. With a careless flick of her wrist, she emptied the contents of the glass onto Millie's prone form, the cold liquid eliciting no reaction from the unconscious actress. The bar erupted into murmurs as Chrissy's malicious laughter filled the air. She tossed the empty glass onto the counter, the harsh sound of glass against wood echoing in the stunned silence. Without a backward glance, Chrissy strode out of the bar, the satisfied smile on her face the last thing the crowd saw before the door slammed shut behind her.
In the midst of the stunned silence, a figure detached herself from the crowd. Willa Holland, having captured every shocking moment of the brutal spectacle on her phone, was already typing rapidly, her fingers flying over the keys. No aspect of the confrontation had escaped her camera's lens - Chrissy's raw display of power, Millie's terrified struggle, the crowd's stunned reaction. With a final tap, she sent the incriminating footage to a slew of media outlets. Her eyes glittered with a mix of anticipation and determination as she watched the video upload, knowing well the storm that was about to hit the entertainment world. As the upload bar hit 100%, a wicked smile spread across her face. Chrissy's performance was about to go viral, and the world would bear witness to the songstress getting her revenge.
