Post by Envi on Nov 24, 2013 22:23:35 GMT -5
my spot is where you wish to be
nov.21.thirteen3:23pm
”Wh-- what do you mean, you think they found something? When did you plan on telling me this? I m-- Aub-- WHAT did they find?”
He was angry. He was frustrated. He might’ve been frightened. It was understandable, and I was just standing there in the kitchen of our New York City penthouse, holding a tea bag in a steaming mug of water, swinging it in a clockwise motion between my fingers. I thought that maybe if I let him talk reeeeally loud for a few seconds, he’d give himself a headache and walk away. Was that horrible? Talon Wilkinson was my fiancé. Should I have this aversion to arguing with him? To telling him when something’s wrong?
”Aubrey… say something, for Christ’s sake.”
”Well... Dr. Branting-- he…”
I raised the mug of tea to my lips, taking a slow sip to Talon’s chagrin. He sighed audibly and slapped a palm down on the table, prompting me to lower the mug and glance up at him, giving a slight shrug.
”He said there are abnormalities with my adrenal glands. He said that they may not be producing the sufficient amount of, uh… I think it was cortisol and aldosterone… so I went back in there yesterday morning before we flew out here to get tests--”
”Yesterday morning?!”
”Baby, you just had so much going on this past week and I didn’t want--”
”These are the things we TALK to one another about.”
”But-- but why? Talking to you about something as small as this would insinuate that there’s something wrong and that’s not what’s happening here. Nothing’s wrong. There was no need, Tal.”
”Cassandra knows?”
It was presented as a question, but it didn’t sound like it. I nodded a little and he scoffed.
”Of course.”
”I knew you’d get mad if you thought something was even remotely wrong. Maybe I wanted to spare you the fucking stress, alright?”
”Just... how can you say something like that? If you have the sniffles, then I wanna know about it. And this is a lot more serious. You threw up in our living room last week. You’ve blacked out. You sound like a smoker. You could barely get out of bed on Tuesday. I wanna know--”
”I’m not trying to keep the important stuff from you… just the scary stuff.”
”What--!”
”That came out so wrong. I’m sorry. I… ugh… level with me, okay?”
I took another sip from the tea. This time it wasn’t to distract from the conversation… it was to suppress an antagonistic coughing fit.
”Look at what I have to do on Monday. I've gotta beat Anthony and Jair again, teaming up with Ash Scion to do it. I don’t know when I’m gonna find out if I have some sort of virus or bug or whatever, Talon, but until then, I have a job to do. I’ll be damned if I let Ash go out there alone.”
”...I’m surprised you care so much about h--”
”The bitch gets NONE of my spotlight.”
”Ah. That makes a little more sense.”
”I’m riding a high that these people could only dream of, baby. Last week, there were five people in that ring, and I won with ONE MOVE… I know how to beat these guys and it’s like, I’m fucking killing myself to do it week after week, but it needs to be done because there are still some people out there that are under the impression that THE DYING BREED is the best this business has to offer. Not me; them.”
Another sip. He watched.
”No more. I work too hard to share the title of ‘the best’ with the likes of Bailey and ‘The Disappointing’ Jair Hopkins.”
I paused. Smirked. Reconsidered.
”And I won’t share it with Ash either.”
i wasn’t born yesterday, nor later on that evening
nov.22.thirteen10:15am
”But don’t you, like, HAVE to share it with Ash?”
It was Friday morning, and we were at an herbal market, Cassandra and I. After hearing the vague news I’d received from Branting, Cassandra took it upon herself to play the role of hipster-doctor. I was holding a straw basket which was nearly filled to the brim. At first, normal things found their way into it, like apples, and carrots… then peppers… then shit that looked like straw and weeds and I just HAD to ask--
”Whatever. What exactly are we looking for?”
”It’s an herbal remedy for influenza. They drink this stuff in Brazil all the time. You’ll be one-hundred and liiike, fifty percent by Monday.”
”What’s it supposed to do to me?”
”Jesus, Aubs, I don’t know. I didn’t look THAT deep into it. I thought you wanted to get better.”
I frowned as she skirted past me to reach forward and grab some sort of package of dried, purple beans (which more resembled pigeon feces) from the shelf. I wanted to retort, but I shrugged. Honestly, it couldn’t have been half as dangerous as some of the things we drank on a daily basis.
”Remember when I told you about the stuff Ash said on Twitter last weekend before the show?”
”About pulling glass out of your body or something?”
”Yeah, that. I think it was her weird way of trying to be nice...”
”Um. I thought we agreed that it was her weird way of saving face because she realized she couldn’t beat you in a wrestling match. And by ‘we agreed’, I mean, I’m pretty sure you came up with it on your own.”
”Admitting inferiority is being nice, isn’t it?”
”You’re totally clueless.”
”Don’t gimme that.”
She swayed slightly, throwing more of her nature garbage into the basket, leading the way toward the registers at the front of the market. I was shocked to see that they were using an up-to-date computer system as opposed to a calculator, pen, and paper.
”Is Talon pissed that you didn’t talk to him before we left LA?”
”Duh. He acts like I betrayed him. But it’s not like I’m dying or anything. And heading into a match like this, the last thing I need is somebody making me feel… guilty… for how I handle myself. Right?”
Cass shrugged. I guess she was trying to save the conversation for private quarters, since we were rapidly approaching a small herd of people that waited for a register to become available. I turned to her and continued anyway, albeit in a softer tone.
”You’re like, on his side, aren’t you?”
”...sooo never said that.”
”But you are.”
She smiled politely at the cashier as she made her way to the counter, placing the basket in front of her. As each item was rung up, Cassandra turned, flashing me a tired expression.
”There are no sides. When it comes to you, Dying Breed’s relentless. And you are too whenever it comes to them. I understand why Talon’s worried, Aubs… hand me my purse.”
I idly shifted my arm forward, allowing her to retrieve the wallet from her handbag before she continued.
”We want to see you succeed. We want you to be the first PURE Wrestling Champion, but it’s not worth it if you’re risking your life every time you step out there.”
The next few seconds were dedicated to the cashier. I kinda zoned out while Cassandra completed the transaction. I flashed my polite smile, and the cashier mumbled something bashfully back to me. I guess she recognized me, and I don’t even remember what I said to her as I departed. I remember staying on Cassandra’s heels and I said what I had held inside for upwards of two minutes.
”I have to be the face of PURE, Cass. It’s not optional.”
”I know it’s easy to think that, but--”
She started to pop the hatch of her '14 Jeep Cherokee. I placed a hand on it though, jerking it shut again, capturing her attention.
"Really, it’s not optional.”
She looked at me with confusion, raising a hand to confront me, but I cut her off, swiftly.
”When APW closed, that’s where my income stopped. I wasn’t there long enough to qualify for the compensation checks people like Bailey and Mannie got. I’m not exactly making royalties off of a couple of appearances in SCW, alright? When Daddy died, mom spent EVERYTHING making sure that funeral was perfect for our family, and I didn’t even go. I didn’t give her that respect… but I’m paying her back for it every chance I get. Literally, paying her back the tens of thousands she spent because she hasn’t gone back to work since he died. She hasn’t gotten any better, Cass… she needs help.
And-- and then Talon and I have this wedding and he’s so well-off, but I don’t expect him to have to reach into his finances until there’s nothing left. I’ll say what he won’t; CRW is gone. He feels like he owes something to everyone that worked for him and they’re gonna bleed him dry, and I’m not the kind of person that just waits for this shit to happen. I just wanted to be with Talon before I got back into the ring, but I knew I couldn’t do that, because we… we need money… we have these lifestyles, and these images, and… what if something is wrong with me--?”
I cleared my throat and closed my eyes, but I couldn’t fight it back this time. I coughed violently. I coughed until I felt my throat being torn apart from the inside-out. Cass put an arm around my shoulders, but I stood upright, determined to stand without assistance. With tears staining my eyes, I moved my hand from the hatch and allowed it to open as I slowly looked up at Cassandra.
”I’ll succeed despite this. I want everything this place has to offer.”
Feeling another fit coming on, I moved a hand over my stomach and turned, making my way to the passenger seat of the car while Cassandra watched on with concern. I felt her eyes burning into the back of my skull, but I sat there with my eyes closed, taking deep breaths… and thinking…
unspecified.unspecified
”This is a tricky situation.
It’s not one I should be surprised by, though, is it?
I mean… it’s imaginative, and it’s certain to get a response out of our audience. On one side of the ring, you have best friends, longtime tag team, former world-renowned Tag Team Champions, the Dying Breed, Anthony Bailey and Jair Hopkins… and on the other side, you’ve got the odd couple. You’ve got the quintessential holy grail of wrestling, me, and the flavor of the month, Ash Scion.
This ain’t my first rodeo. I know how this game works. I get that I’m not expected to do well this week because I’m partnered with Ash and it’s no secret that we’d rather annihilate each other than be forced to rely on one another. In fact, I’d agree, you’d have to be MORONIC to not realize that the Dying Breed has the advantage here, but that’s only because they’re supposed to. They need this at this point-- you do. Especially you, Jair.
Sure… it wasn't you who tapped in our triple threat match two weeks ago, and uninterestingly enough, you even escaped being responsible for the decision in your match last week, but can we say you’ve lost a step since your time with another promotion? I guess it’s to be expected, considering that you’d done a pretty good job at etching yourself into the very foundation of the place over there, but heeeeeere is a slightly different story. You haven’t been able to find your footing, and I’m gonna make sure that this week isn’t the start of something new, hm? I said when I first entered PURE that I figured you’d succeed, and I really hope you do, but like I told your girlfriend Bails last week, it'll absolutely not be at my expense. No, no, boys… AJP won’t take the fall for you. Not here.
Two weeks ago, I flat-out outwrestled you, Jair, and last week, I landed one offensive maneuver throughout the entire match, and it led to Anthony Bailey tapping out like his career depended on it-- and in all fairness, it probably did. I’d have had no problem going all the way. Going… until something snapped. You saw what was on the line. You saw.
And because the stakes are theoretically a little lower this week and because I have to depend on somebody that I don’t even trust, I suppose you think it’ll be easier. After all, you’ve got each other now. So many things could go your way. Maybe Ash and I will have a spat in the middle of the match and you’ll capitalize off the distraction-- or, OOOH, or maybe we’ll get so caught up in trying to outperform one another, we’ll just take each other out for you! Yeah… yeah, I think that’s what a lot of people are banking on.
See, I grasp the bigger picture, and I don’t think that was ever really a question. This time, I’m not the rook, ha. Ash is. She’s brash. She’s arrogant. Hell, I’m her partner this week and I’ll be theeeee FIRST to admit that she can’t back up HALF of what she says, but I have faith that she can put her jealousy aside for fifteen minutes on PURE TV so we can kick your asses. Hahaha. I have faith, boys! Somebody has to!
She doesn’t know you like I do. Doesn’t know how you move out there, or how you think, but I’ll teach her. And I’ll teach her how you guys lose. There’ll be no aura or mysticism when you guys enter an arena. This entire organization is going to know that Anthony Bailey and Jair Hopkins are beatable. They’ll know that you’re nowhere near the best. NOWHERE near me!
And while I stand at the proverbial mountain top that I talk about so, so much and I shout to the Gods ’WHO’S NEXT?!’, the two-- maybe the THREE of you-- will be left asking yourselves ’What’s next for me? Because God knows I can’t beat AJP.’ And Ash, baby, that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you can get it done in the ring. You can. I think you’ll do a fine job holding your own in this match, but the sooner you realize that it’ll be another shadow in comparison to anything I do, the better. We can get past the uncertainties and move right to the task at hand that way.
I need you to be there on Monday, no matter what.
I need you to back me up.
I need you to wrestle, and wrestle well.
Now… I have no doubt that you’ll be able to do two of those things. It’s the ‘back me up’ part that I’m a little wary about, but remember, I have faith. Thing is, I KNOW you do too, and regardless of the shit you spewed last week about wins and losses in that ring not mattering-- I know you’re not gonna roll over and die when we’re standing across from them. That’s not your style. Making an IMPACT is, and this is the chance to do that, for both of us. So do me a solid, Ash, and don’t fuck us.
You’re so much smarter than that.
Anthony and Jair? They’re worth beating. This is a match that could main-event most arenas in the country so don’t take that for granted. I want all the momentum I can muster leading to Crisis… and you want to redeem yourself after false-advertising last week. At least, you should. You don’t wanna be known as a disappointment. You wanna be known as a threat. And at my side, that’s what you’ll be this week, but I will hold you down, bitch. After this week, I'll make sure that you’re nothing more than a threat, because even at the mountain-top, people like you are necessary. You keep me goin'!
I represent the people that pick up the important wins. I represent the people that wear the gold. And y'know-- a friend told me that I had to share the limelight, and I fought it, but she was right. If I’m gonna survive the Dying Breed, then I need you. I need you there for me against two of the most dangerous men in PURE Wrestling. After that, things go back to… ‘normal’.
Until then, baby, we’ll need to be on the same page. That’s what we do if we want to not only win-- but even last in there against Bailey and Hopkins. Follow my lead, or if you wanna get cute, I’ll follow yours, but don’t ever forget who the star of the show is. Don’t ever forget your role when it’s all said and done.
But for one night, Ash, at the expense of the Dying Breed, I’ll let you feel what it’s like to be the best…”
alive i stand
nov.24.thirteen9:50pm
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
“You have reached the voice mailbox of… Aubrey J. Parker. To leave a voice message, press ‘1’, or just wait for the tone. To--”
Beep!
”Hey, Ms. Parker. Doc Branting here. I wanted to follow up with you after receiving the results from Thursday's tests. Obviously, you’re ignoring my calls due to the fear of bad news, and you’re absolutely right-- if you knew what I knew, then I'd be morally and legally obligated to remove you from tomorrow evening’s event… in fact, I might even advise that you come to my office tomorrow instead of spending another hour in Seattle… but I wouldn’t expect you to. Instead, I wish you the best. I know how much tomorrow night means to you. I trust that I’ll be seeing you Tuesday. Stay safe, Aubrey.”
fin.
