Insomnia

Boston. Chuck didn’t often spend time in this city. He didn’t like it much. It was as polluted as Chicago was corrupted….that says something.

A loud horn brings Chuck out of his train of thought. He looks up to see a truck speeding towards him, blaring it’s horn. Chuck swerves to the right, back into the lane, shaking his head.

Chuck Matthews: “FUCK!”

He shakes his head again. He was so tired…and it was causing him to doze off behind the wheel. He glances at the GPS in the center panel.

Chuck Matthews: “Bit farther. Come on.”

He takes a deep breath. His eyes were heavy…it was getting tougher by the minute to stay focused on the road. It was just up the street…..a bit farther……just a bit farther…

Chuck pulls into the driveway and immediately swerves into a spot, parking the car. He slumps in his seat, closing his eyes. Some strange exhaustion had taken it’s toll. He hadn’t done anything all day. He was running on three hours of sleep…in the last two and a half days. He couldn’t really explain it. It was getting increasingly more difficult to sleep…and with it, increasingly more difficult to get through each day without passing out halfway through. Chuck finally steps out of the car, and walks up to the front door of the building. He glances at the numbers above the mailboxes.

Chuck Matthews: “Casey.”

He presses the button under number 4, and waits.

Jessica Matthews: “Who is it?”

Chuck Matthews: “Really?”

Jessica Matthews: “You’re here!”

Before Chuck can make a sarcastic remark, the intercom shuts off, and a buzz is heard as the door unlocks. Chuck steps inside, and heads up the stairs, towards the second floor, and apartment number 4. Before he has a chance to knock on the door, it swings open. Jessica throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

Jessica Matthews: “Charlie!”

Chuck pats her lightly on the back.

Chuck Matthews: “Hi.”

Jessica Matthews: “How are you?”

Chuck shrugs.

Chuck Matthews: “Not bad.”

Jessica stares at him for a moment.

Jessica Matthews: “You look horrible.”

Chuck frowns.

Chuck Matthews: “Nice to see you too.”

Jessica shakes her head, smiling.

Jessica Matthews: “You know what I mean.”

Her smile vanishes.

Jessica Matthews: “Seriously. Are you okay?”

Chuck shrugs.

Chuck Matthews: “Just kinda tired, I guess.”

Jessica Matthews: “Define ‘kinda tired.’”

Chuck Matthews: “I slept from three to six.”

Jessica Matthews: “That’s not as bad as I thought.”

Chuck Matthews: “That was Wednesday.”

Jessica Matthews: “It’s Friday.”

Chuck Matthews: “Yeah.”

Jessica Matthews: “Charlie!”

She pulls his by his arm and sits him on the sofa, staring him in the eyes.

Jessica Matthews: “Something’s bothering you.”

Chuck Matthews: “No.”

Jessica Matthews: “You can’t lie to me.”

Chuck shakes his head, and rests his head on the back of the couch. Jessica sighs. Chuck slowly lets his eyes close. He hears footsteps enter the living room.

Jessica Matthews: “Tell your father he needs to talk about things, or he’ll never get any better.”

Ashley Matthews: “Something’s wrong with him?”

Chuck slowly opens his eye, looking towards the kitchen entry, where Ashley stands, looking suspiciously at him.

Chuck Matthews: “How long have you been here?”

Jessica Matthews: “She visits a lot.”

Chuck Matthews: “Since when?”

Jessica Matthews: “Since your company has kept my fiance away from home, and I have to take care of two kids on my own. Ashley’s been so helpful.”

Chuck closes his eyes again.

Jessica Matthews: “Speaking of the kids…do you want to finally meet your niece and nephew?”

Chuck Matthews: “Might as well.”

Jessica rolls her eyes.

Jessica Matthews: “Always so enthusiastic, aren’t you?”

Ashley Matthews: “THat’s Chuck Matthews for you.”

Jessica heads upstairs, and returns a few minutes later, a baby in each arm. She sits down, smiling, and holds one of them out for Chuck to take. Chuck stares at the kid for a minute.

Jessica Matthews: “Hold him.”

Chuck hesitantly picks up the kid.

Jessica Matthews: “Meet Gavin.”

Chuck looks at the kid, who stares at him, his mouth open slightly.

Chuck Matthews: “Is he retarded?”

Jessica Matthews: “He’s a baby!”

Chuck shrugs, still looking at the child.

Jessica Matthews: “Fine, here, hold Raylyn instead.”

She takes the boy out of his arms, and hands Chuck the other child.

Chuck Matthews: “What the fuck made you think that was a good name for a kid?”

Jessica Matthews: “Watch your mouth around them! Have you ever been around kids before?”

Chuck Matthews: “I try not to.”

Jessica Matthews: “What is wrong with you?”

Chuck shakes his head, and looks at the baby girl in his arms. She slowly lifts her head, looking up at Chuck. A surge of pain suddenly courses through Chuck’s body, and he can hear the sound of someone shouting somewhere. He’s momentarily blinded as his eyes are overcome with darkness. He sees something…different. Fire around him. A city street, burning to the ground. People running, fleeing from some unknown terror. Storm clouds hang overhead, lightning striking all around. A silhouette stands at the end of the road, slowly approaching Chuck. Chuck squints, trying to make out who it is. A bolt of lightning strikes in front of him, blinding him again with a flash of light. Chuck blinks, and he’s back in the living room.

Jessica Matthews: “CHARLES BRIAN MATTHEWS!”

Chuck jumps. He glances at Jessica, who looks livid. Raylyn lies on the sofa, crying.

Jessica Matthews: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Chuck Matthews: “I…what?”

Jessica lifts Raylyn off the sofa, holding her close.

Jessica Matthews: “You can’t just drop her! She’s not even a month old!”

Chuck looks from the baby to Jessica, to Ashley, who stares at him. He can’t really read her expression. She seems upset, but there’s a hint of concern playing across her face.

Chuck Matthews: “I’m…just gonna leave.”

Jessica stares coldly at him. Chuck slowly gets up and heads for the door.

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Chuck sits in the car, staring at the wheel. He hasn’t moved yet. The car is still sitting in the driveway of the apartment building. Part of him doesn’t want to get back on the road…partly due to his constant sleepiness…but partly because he can’t stop thinking of the events from the apartment. What had happened? Was it just a bad side effect of his constant sleep deprivation? Was it finally catching up to him?

A knock on the window causes Chuck to jump. He looks over to see Ashley knocking on the passenger window. Chuck unlocks the door, and she slides into the car, taking a seat next to him. There’s silence for a moment.

Chuck Matthews: “Yes?”

Ashley Matthews: “Everything alright?”

Chuck Matthews: “Just fine.”

Ashley Matthews: “When are you going to cut the act?”

Chuck Matthews: “Act?”

Ashley Matthews: “You dropped a baby.”

Chuck Matthews: “On a sofa. No harm done.”

Ashley Matthews: “Regardless…still dropped her. Why?”

Chuck Matthews: “Do I need a reason?”

Ashley Matthews: “Yes.”

Chuck Matthews: “Bummer.”

Ashley frowns.

Ashley Matthews: “Why do you always have to be so difficult? Do you ever wonder why you live alone, and never see your friends?”

Chuck Matthews: “Not really, no.”

Ashley Matthews: “It’s because you never talk to anyone else. You’re a hermit. You live alone. You refuse to let anyone close to you. Whenever someone does show any care, you figure out a way to fuck it up. You really want to live the rest of your life that way?”

Chuck Matthews: “It’s a peaceful existence. Why not?”

Ashley shakes her head.

Ashley Matthews: “You’re hopeless. Fine. Whatever. Live in apathy. I give up.”

Chuck sits back in his seat, closing his eyes.

Chuck Matthews: “Nice talk. We’ll do it again sometime.”

Ashley stares at him a moment longer, then steps out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Chuck yawns, and reclines his seat. A clap of thunder, and rain starts to splash across the windshield. Chuck stretches out in the car, listening to the sounds of the rain. He was so tired…

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Chuck Matthews: “For fuck’s sake, is this really happening? Has my career really slipped this low? Am I really starting to fade out like this?

Am I really facing James Shark?

More importantly…this is a threat to my career?

If I saw this match this time last year, I think I would have laughed. James Shark wasn’t even in my league. He couldn’t hold a candle to the performances I was giving.

Fuck, he still doesn’t.

When did James Shark become a threat to IWF? When did he become a threat to Se7en? When did he become a threat to anyone other than show openers who couldn’t win a match to save their lives?

‘Ma black ass can top any of dem in da IWF.’

My white ass owns you. No, that’s not racist. That’s plain and simple truth. Chuck Matthews is, has been, and always will be, better than you. I don’t give a shit if you respect me or not. Why would I? What makes you so special?

When have I ever given a rat’s ass about anyone other than myself? When have I ever cared what other people thought of me? You respect me, Shark? Think I’m one of the top names? I won’t argue with it. But that doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. I don’t care about James Shark. I don’t care about Shadow Demon. I don’t care about Ruben Ricardo Leon.

Let’s talk about Ruben, actually. Wow, he sure showed me with that one, didn’t he? Walking out of IWF with a contract to some shitty Mexican promotion? Again…I have to ask…

Why the fuck should I care?

He gave me a good match. Wonderful. There are countless people who have given me great matches…and when they disappear, it impacts my life about as much as the starving kids in Africa. Not in the slightest.

You want to leave Ruben? By all means, there’s the door. Took long enough for you to tell us what was really on your mind. Unfortunately, it’s too little, too late, ain’t it? You’re gone…and I can carry on my happy life, and never have to give second thought to the most overrated competitor to ever come out of Mexico.

But back to the other minority I need to be looking at. James Shark.

What now Shark? Going to knock me out? Going to shut me up? Good fucking luck. You’ll be what, the thousandth person to give it a try. Just another on a long list of people trying to keep me quiet…and just like every fucking other person…

You’re doomed to fail.

The voice that can’t be silenced. The mouth that can’t be shut. You really think you’re going to be the first? Come on, don’t kid yourself.

I’m the smartest man in wrestling. All you know how to do is swing your fist and talk about ‘ma 12 inch.’

That’s not badass, that’s just gross.

But it’s irrelevant. This week, the great encounter between Chuck Matthews and James Shark will finally happen. My predictions?

It won’t be as great as you’re hyping it up to be.

And when the dust clears, it’s going to be Chuck Matthews…still standing. Still talking. And James Shark will be, pardon the pun…in the dark.”