When It Rains

When It Rains
Las Vegas, NV
6/18/12

Whiskey.

It's a bitter replacement for feelings and troubles, a burning liquid that destroys the conscious and fills in the shattered remains with an emptiness that a man could be alright with. For the last two weeks, ever since I was released on bail for a crime I didn’t do, I've done exactly that-drink until the pain and worries stop, drink until I cannot feel anything anymore and sleepwalk through the pointless days until I'm called upon to care once again. Like the National Guard, I serve no real purpose until the time arises. Yet, I never hear the call to arms. I never hear the trumpets blaring or feel the rush of duty. I feel nothing...and so I drink. And I keep drinking. And I don't stop until those scant few minutes once a week where I pretend that it all matters in the grand scheme of things, only to be reminded that it simply doesn't.

Then I drink some more.

I never thought I'd be an alcoholic.

In my early days, when I should've needed it more than ever, I wouldn't even touch the stuff. No, it seemed pointless to try and alter the state of my mind. I could distract myself with other things, better things. Bettering my life, bettering my career and growing increasingly comfortable with the various stresses of the world and making it on my own seemed to be far more worthy of my attention. Back when I was innocent, back before I could even begin to think that I couldn't obtain the things that I wanted or needed, that I couldn't reach the heights I deemed mine. I had it all under my control. Vanessa, a family on the way.

And then it all just, slipped away.

Just like dust in the fucking wind, it slipped away.

Despite my recent rush of resolve, despite my desire to turn it all around...my efforts have been failing. I told the world that I had enough; I reached out and apologized for what I did to Vanessa, and for a few hours I honestly though everything was gonna be alright, then I got arrested for assaulting her, a crime I didn’t even do.

So I drink a little more.

It is all that drinking that has brought me to this moment, deep within the supposed comfort of my Vegas home. I was supposed to leave two hours ago. I was supposed to be on a plane for Canada, where I could continue this little game of pretend against a man who both infatuates and infuriates me. However, finishing this bottle of Gentleman Jack seemed far more important to me than that. I suppose I should've been training for this match. I suppose I could've taken it seriously. I suppose I could've done a lot of things, yet none of them really seem to hold any purpose to me right now.

Nothing at all does.

So I take another sip and look into my bedroom.

It's empty. It has been for awhile now.

Vanessa and her father were set on bringing me down; they went out and hired the best legal team in New York. I bet it brought her father great pleasure to. That cocksucker never did like me, now he has a chance to hang me. I’ve been talking to my accountant for the last few days and there is no way I could afford a defense team as good as what they got. My mother Jada who bailed me out, turned her back on me. Guess it was her way for paying me back for the stunt I pulled that killed my father

Seems like karma was bitch slapping me every which way I turned

Love is supposed to be a bond between two people. Marriage is supposed to be a commitment to stay with your other half for as long as you live, where you support and accept the flaws that the two of you have and get through it all, for better or for worse, until the day it all comes to an end. Marriage meant that to me. Marriage meant everything to me. And yet my room is still empty, that bond is rickety and worn threadbare and I'm wondering why.

Why did she take it this far?

I can lie to myself about many things. I've gotten good at it, sadly. But when I glance down to the wedding band upon my finger, I know that there's nothing there. The meaning is lost, the purpose forgotten. There isn't anything left for me here. Not a single thing. It took awhile for me to realize it. It took a lot of lying to myself, a lot of pretending that everything would be alright. I know now, truthfully, that there is no going back. There is no moving forward. There is no redemption, no second chance. It's over. It's all over.

I want to cry. I want to feel something, anything really. The whiskey tells me, however, that there's nothing to feel. No pain, no feeling of loss. It's just facts. It's over...It's all over and it's time to move on. It's time to rid myself of one more distraction, one more failing in life. Much like Pink, it's time to build a wall.

And so, I do.

With one more sip of whiskey, I place the bottle upon the nearby night stand before my gaze returns to the ring upon my finger. I can still remember the day I put this on. I can still smell the salty air of the Daytona Beach Ocean wafting through my nostrils. I can't feel the joy though. I can't feel the passion. I can't feel anything. I don't feel anything anymore. And that's what has me pulling that ring off of my finger, the action done with a bit of careful twisting and pulling until it finally pops off.

For a moment, I regret it. For a moment, I feel naked...but then I realize that this ring, this idea of what I have, is about as real as the Emperor's clothes. It's not real. Nothing is real. Not this, not the thoughts I have nor the quiet, idle hope that tomorrow this will be different. Nothing is real. Nothing exists. There's absolutely nothing. So I take that ring, I take that last connection to the life I had, the life I knew...and I toss it onto the bed. I just...cast it away and with it? I cast away the last thing keeping me connected to everything.

It's over.

It's all fucking over.

I look at my phone and a number I got through some people, It was a call I never wanted to make. But it was a call I knew I had to make if I wanted to stand a chance of beating the charges Vanessa accused me of.

It was the only way I would get the money to cover a defense team that even Johnny Cochran would be proud of.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
‘Mr. Giordano please’

There was no going back now…

♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥
♥ Part II: The Scene Changes ♥
♥ Las Vegas, NV ♥
♥ June 19th 2012 ♥
♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥

The sky seems so bright this afternoon. I don’t know if it’s my outlook or the fucking hot weather but it’s illuminating today. I close the door to my car and straighten my clothes. After making that phone call, I had to get out of the house. I still couldn’t believe I was on my last option. I look to my left and my right before lighting up a nice menthol cigarette and kill myself slowly with one sweet inhale. Her fucking neighbors are nosy as hell. They lean over their deck and watch me. I can hear them murmuring about my clothes and my music and I look back up at them and simply wave. The wave back, knowing they were caught, and I just shake my head.

Everybody wants in on my business.

I flick my cigarette into the street and open the door to her apartment complex. The steps to her place are always clean and my clean white shoes grip the steps easily. I get to her apartment, number 354 and I knock twice. I hear movement in the apartment and I look around her floor. The door across from her apartment opens and I see a hot blonde in a bikini come out. I look her up and down and she smiles and waves at me. I continue to look at her fine ass and the door to her apartment opens. My head swings back to her and she has a smile on her face.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“Hey baby”

She says and kisses me on the lips. She has on a bikini top and a pair of short shorts and I smile back.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Hey”

I walk into her apartment and see a thong lying on her couch. I pick it up and look at it for a second.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Have a party recently?”

She laughs and grabs them from me.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“No. Just… I forgot to clean up”

She makes her way into the kitchen and grabs a Vitamin Water from the fridge: Kiwi Strawberry. She has a case of donuts on her counter and I take one.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“Did I say you could eat my food?”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“No but I already know you don’t care so what’s the point of asking?”

I reply and she just shakes her head.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“You’re such an asshole.”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“That’s why you like me”

I say and she sighs and grabs my hand. She leads me back into the living room and turns on the television. The news plays of course there still running the story about my arrest, but Gabrielle pretends she doesn’t see it and she puts her legs onto my lap.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“So what have you been up to today baby?”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Nothing really. Nursing a killer hangover, so I figured I’d come over here for an hour or so. Other than that I’m just workin’ out and shit getting ready for Ragnarok. Um, how’s stripping?”

I ask and she’s taken back by it. Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve brought it up. Kinda blows my mind she’s a stripper who is a secretary and is trying to get a music career.

Unbelievable

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“How is it? It’s being a stripper. What did you expect it to be? I have fat, ugly guys throwing money at me and I have to make them think I’m into them. They pay me to be their one night fantasy. Nothing really glorious about it.”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Then why do you do it if it’s not so glorious?”

I ask and she looks at me with a ‘duh’ expression. I love picking people’s minds.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“Easy money. I know I look good and you know I look good. Everyone always wants to see me up on stage taking off my top and dancing for them. I make around five hundred dollars a night. It’s too easy Robbie”

She says and winks at me. I move my shades to the top of my head and look right into her eyes.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Easy money to buy cocaine with?”

I call her out on what I picked up the last time we seen each other which seems like forever and her eyes start to dart. She looks me in my eyes, finally, and shrugs her shoulders.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Bullshit. I saw you at the club repetitively going to the bathroom. When I came over your nose bled. Now, I know on rare occasions your nose bleeds because it’s too dry but if I put the pieces together you were playing in the snow”

I say and she sighs. Her face becomes blank and I just nod.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“That’s what I thought.”

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“Don’t rag on me Robbie. You smoke those cigarettes and…”

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“I think cocaine is a worse drug than cigarettes. I don’t have to strip to get money to buy cigarettes. I …”

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“Don’t judge me Robbie. God, I knew I shouldn’t have told you”

She removes her legs from my lap and sits on the edge of her couch.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“Like it wasn’t obvious with the stripper pole in your room? I wasn’t trying to start a fucking argument with you. I just want you to admit that you have used cocaine or use cocaine and move on from the damn subject”

I say and she runs her fingers through her hair. She pats me on my inner thigh and looks out the window.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“Life’s hard right now. Gotta get something to keep me going, ya know? You ever been in a position where you feel powerless? Like nothing seems like it will never be right?”

She utters in an innocent tone. She’s preaching to the fucking poster boy. I place my hands on my knees. I look over at her still looking out the window and I move her face towards mine.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“I guess you put on a pair of my shoes, huh? That’s how my life’s been the past three weeks. I never know when everything is going to fall into place for me. Vanessa left me, and now I’m fighting for my fucking freedom, and I think I’m starting to really like a girl who is a stripper slash musician slash secretary. I’m always in a position of power and now… I’m just powerless. Nothing goes my way and nothing ever is the Cinderella story. My life, right now, is a clusterfuck and you’re my escape from it. This, right here, is my escape from the alternate reality I’m not ready to deal with. So tell me, Gabrielle, what the fuck is so hard in your life?”

I finish and she takes her eyes off the window and looks at me. She gets up off the couch and walks back into her bedroom. I start rubbing the top of my head and then I pull down my shades. I see Gabrielle walk back from her bedroom with her hands behind her back. The expression on her face has turned somber and she stops right in front of me. She looks at me and shrugs her shoulders

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“What?”

She reveals what was behind her back and puts it on the table. What is this? After closer examination I know exactly what it is. I don’t pick it up… I just look at it. Why is she showing me this? Why is she putting this on my plate of thoughts? She stands; hovering over it with her arms crossed, and continues to look at me. I scoot towards the edge of the couch and finally pick it up. I look at it hard and I just want to break out into tears. I guess this is what they call karma. My eyes reflect off the screen and the plus sign reflects off my eyes. Gabrielle continues to look at me and I look up at her. None of this is happening. I’m dreaming. Wake up. Wake up.

WAKE UP DAMMIT!

I throw it back onto the table and bury my head in my hands. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this again. No, not again. I’ve just picked my heels up and now they’re buried in the ground yet again. I’m stuck in the same position I was months ago and I feel… powerless. I look up at Gabrielle, finally, and try to form words. Nothing comes out for a moment and my throat starts tightening up.

..:: Robbie Hart ::..
“So that means…”

I say and she still stands over the table and looks at me with hateful eyes.

..:: Gabrielle ::..
“I’m pregnant.”

Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse …

♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥
♥ Ragnarok ♥
♥ ROBBIE HART’S EDITION ♥
♥ The Shoot ♥
♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥ - - - ♥

So, this week I’ve been bored, I’ve laughed, and I’ve cried… from laughing so hard. Does Hostyle really think he’s going to throw me under the bus and run me over and over again? I highly doubt it.

Then again, I heard Cocaine can make you delusional

Look, Hostyle… I know you want to become a star. I know that you want to become someone that is looked upon like a way that people look at me. I see you kicking and screaming until the Insurgency fans actually stop and acknowledge that you even exist, however, this won’t happen on my time. You will not propel yourself over by using me as some personal stepping stone. You tried everything to get the upper hand this week, and you’ve failed miserably just like you’re failing your relationship with Chalida. Just like you failing as a father.

I’ve taken everything you’ve said this week and used it as motivation to stomp on you like a welcome mat on my front porch after rolling around in a bat of pig shit for the last four weeks. You should be on your knees praying to whatever god you deem necessary that you even have this chance to walk through the open door that is before you that leads to all of your hopes and dreams. You need to be aware though that I’m going to be waiting and ready to slam the door of opportunity right through your pesky skull. You can keep skipping down the hallway of success but I’m going to be waiting to shove you in the opposite direction come tomorrow night!

What do you have left to say Hostyle? You wanna jump on the bandwagon and talk about the death of my unborn daughters? Go Right ahead, because lets face facts here mang, my kids are dead, but poor little Damien’s gonna have to grow up with the realization his father is a junkie and a total whack job. He’ll have to carry the burden of being disappointed at his old man his entire life. If you ask me, that’s a faith worse then death

Some role model you are

You are the same as everyone else Hostyle and deep down I’m sure you can’t stand that, so that’s why you preach about how fucking crazy you are. When the reality of the situation is you are nothing more than a passing fade. Let’s not forget I'm the one who got you into this match. I'm going to humiliate you. I'm going to make you regret you ever had a brain to give you a thought to try to be my equal. By the time I'm done with you, I won't have to run you out of wrestling, like I did everyone else who attempted to take my strap; you won't be able to get out quick enough. You'll break any contract you have to get away from me. Your arrogance has cost you your ass this time, bitch. Maybe you should have told your arrogance the same thing I'm going to tell you now, and the same thing I'll be telling you when the match is over Sunday.

Fuck You.

You won't be walking away with my title then, or ever, motherfucker. Make peace with that, you won't be able to console yourself after the match otherwise. You bring your arrogance, and drug habit. Bring that self-assuredness that only people like us possess. Watch it crumble before my magnificence. See, even though people don't want to admit it, I really am as good as I say I am, and you want to know a secret Hostyle? You're as good as I say you are, too. You're damn good, better than everyone else who has challenged me, for sure.

But not better than me.

You’ll always be Greg Valentine to my Ric Flair. A pale imitation, no matter what you do to try to change that fact. You'll come into our match, and you'll likely match me, move for move, counter for counter, for awhile. Like I said, you're damn good. But sooner or later, you'll falter. You'll realize that for all your vast knowledge about the workings of the inside of a wrestling ring, it doesn't match mine.

You will fail, Hostyle.


Just do yourself a favor and prepare for the main event, because it’s really the only thing you have to look forward to. Hell maybe you’ll even win the golden ticket to ‘From the ashes’, at least then tomorrow night won’t be that much of a disappointment.