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 |  Subject: Battle for Redemption: Part 2  Sat Feb 04, 2012 10:30 pm | |
| I’m back…dinner was pretty damn awesome. The loved one made us chicken parmesan, one of my absolute favorites. It’s always great to have someone who knows how to cook. No, that’s not a sexist remark towards women; I was just saying how bad of a cook I am in fact. I know how to put stuff in the oven, but preparing a three-course meal? Forget about it. I always feel like I did something wrong and never did anything right. The only thing I know I’m good at cooking is fucking Ramen noodles. And that’s the easiest thing in the world. My daughter, Kimberly could make Ramen noodles and she’s only 3. That’s how much of a pain in the ass it is to make something, so NO…I wasn’t being a sexist bastard. I’m better than that, trust me. Okay, that’s the understatement of the year, really. Maybe of the decade.
Anyways, what was I talking about when we last left off? Oh yeah…this “Battle for the Briefcase” match. And how the odds are pretty much stacked in my favor. I could’ve had it easy, I could’ve had a shot at a better seeding, and even though actually being in this tournament is not a problem, it’s the uphill battle that is speeding up in my rear-view mirror. First, this Chad Mason fellow. I’ve seen the resume and accomplishments that he’s done here, I’ve heard of his feats during last year’s Battle for the Briefcase tournament, I know what he’s capable of? But does he know what I am capable of? For his obsession with the business and this sport, he seems to just pass me off as another stick in the mud, who thinks that if I somehow defeat him, that I’m just going to fold over to Chuck Matthews…even if he does win in the first place? You know how these kinds of brackets work out. There’s always that ONE underdog. The one who defies all of the odds given to him before things work out. The one that everybody says “well, you know…I just don’t see this one going too far”.
Like I said though, I’m one of those kinds of people that like to defy the odds as they see fit. Apparently, you’re just so hell-bent on wanting to face Chuck that it eats you up inside. What if I feel the same way? But not just him…what if I feel the same way about people like James Shark, or Rosalie Knight, or Sean Libby? I’ve been here for almost a month now, and it’s about damn time that I show the entire WORLD that I’m here to stay. That I’m in it for the long run. By this time next year, mark my words…you’ll be hearing my name along with the best that has to offer in this damn company. If not, then so be it. But believe you me; I like to keep my promises. Because I love this damn business too much, even if the scars on my body hurt on occasion, even if some asshole out there decides to humiliate me in front of thousands of people in the building AND on television, even if I’m doing this because I want to make somebody who’s not living with us anymore smile with pride. I just love it too much to let go.
Love…pro wrestling is just like the love that a man and a woman share…and if you’re into the same sex, then that’s cool by me as well, because it means the same thing. Love is just not about you, it’s about both people in the relationship. It’s about trying to achieve the goals that you both want in life. That first kiss, the first date between the both of you is similar to that of reaching your first major break in the business. You don’t know what to expect, you don’t know the ins and outs of everything, and you’re just as green as she is. You just have to be yourself, even if the first few weeks are a little shaky at best. Everything around you is trying to get a feel of yourself, trying to see if you actually fit. Even if you want it right away, right now. It doesn’t work like that. Trust me, I know…first couple months of my career, I did some things that got me in trouble and I paid greatly for that. All hell broke loose.
Then when you think you have everything deep inside your head figured out for good, you think you know EVERYTHING…well then, somebody comes along the way and WHAM! Everything you knew, everything you thought was gone in a fucking heartbeat. Believe me; everybody has had that ONE girl you saw in class. The one who always sat beside you in Science class, and that first time you saw her, you could swear that time stood still, to the point where “All Along the Watchtower” by Jimi Hendrix was playing somewhere, somehow, even though there was no jukebox in sight. You thought you were staring at an angel from the heavens. But, no matter what, no matter the courage you had built inside of you, she always thought you were from outer space or something. You didn’t exist in her eyes. Or maybe you did talk to each other, and for some reason, one or another, you two were the best of friends and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship? We’ve all been there before. That god damn “Friend Zone”. Well, it was a little from Column A and a little from Column B. That’s how I felt inside that damn ring every single time, and still feel it to this day, even if I don’t have it anymore on some occasions. You can call me a pathetic loser for talking about the subject, but all you need to do is just realize. It'll come to you. Anyways…I’m far from done with this subject, because you see her every single day, no matter how hard it is for you to just go away.
You realize that she's the ONE. Yeah, the very complacent word…”the one”. She's up there at the peak and that's what you want to accomplish. Who doesn’t? If you’re not doing this for THAT reason, then get the fuck out. You want everybody to respect you, everybody to care for you, and everybody to love you, and it starts with her. You finally get the courage that has been building up inside you for months, let alone years, to finally tell her every single feeling within your soul. You wait for that perfect day, and when she’s nearby, you hand her that letter with all of those said feelings, and what the fuck happens...she rejects you. She tells you that it’s not going to happen, and perhaps adds in the fact that she’s seeing somebody else all this damn time.
All that time you spent trying to tell her EVERYTHING, the things you want to go through in your career and somebody tells you, "Sorry…it’s not going to work out like you hoped for!” Yeah, you know how fucking depressing that is to hear that. It’s like the end of the world for you. And even after dealing with all that, you keep trying again and again, to ultimately no avail. You keep on trying, and even when you FINALLY get your chance, somebody else comes in from out of nowhere and takes her away from your clutches, because he jumped at the chance first. He gets her, why not me? WHAT ABOUT ME?!
That was me during the early parts of my career. Expecting the greats, and getting hit with a dose of reality straight to the chin. That’s love for you…and that’s also wrestling. It’s amazing what the two can actually do together, you know? And one of those days, you’ll be off doing nothing, and right then and there, you’ll meet somebody. No clichéd music, no jaw droppings, nothing. Sometimes it just hits you, it’s just like lightning (somehow I just thought of “Back to the Future Part III”; my mind sometimes). But it just hits you and you don’t want to let go, no matter how hard the fall back down is going to hurt. You know it’s going to be painful, but you can deal with it.
But everything just happens to go right. The sky is the limit and there’s nothing that can go wrong. Of course, you say those words and sooner or later, shit goes wrong. She stops calling, she stops texting, and you just fear the worst. You get paranoid, and expect something bad. Of course, it’s a weird relief when something bad does happen. It’s better than not expecting it and having your body course down back to Earth. I’ve always defined love as something that can put you on top of the world, but then shoot you back down faster than a near-death experience when they jam the needle of adrenaline straight into your heart.
And you just don't know how to react to it. It's like you just got punched in the chest by a cannonball, if anything. You don't want to get up in the morning. You don't want to do anything all day. You're too lazy to do anything. You can’t eat, or sleep, or even take a shower. Your self-esteem has been shot in the head by a .44 Magnum and out in a bloody heap alongside the highway and you don't feel like picking it up and trying to fix it. That's the way you feel. And no matter how bad you even try to get up to fix up the broken mess, they just re-shatter back out for the entire world to see.
But you get through it…they always get through it. No matter what in the hell happens, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. The smallest of light can brighten up even the blackest and darkest of rooms. I think one of my high school teachers taught me that saying. No matter what happens…even if you have to deal with your loved one dying in front of your very eyes, it all gets better. It may take a long time for the sun to come up, but in the end, it always comes up, right? That is me in a fucking nutshell, ladies and gentlemen. And why I feel that this Monday…I feel that no matter what happens that the sun always comes up in the end. It’s why I’m still lacing up my boots every week, taping my hands every night. Because I know that one night can change EVERYTHING. Just like what love does to a human being. And on Monday, Chad…that’s the night that changes EVERYTHING for me.
Deuces.
Save. Select All. Copy. Paste. Code. Blog.
Another day, another promo put to rest. That’s when he gets a shock from behind him as a pair of arms wrap around his neck. Like they’re choking the life out of him, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Or not…just taking it out of context. Of course, they’re Jen’s arms, as she rests her head alongside his neck. He returns the hug and even gives her a kiss on the cheek. She kisses him however on the lips. And not just a normal one…a long, deep, passionate kiss. He’s not going to lie, he’s rather taken aback by it just now for a few seconds, but he gladly returns the favor.
But before anything else can happen, you pervs…he takes a moment to breathe and looks at her. Moments ago, he seemed to be a bit jumpy, but now…now that she’s beside him, that feeling is gone from his body. Of course, it’s not hard to ask what was up with the kiss just now.
I was not expecting that.
Neither was I, to tell you the truth. At least not until I went over what you wrote.
What I wrote? How long have you been standing behind me then?
Long enough for me to kiss you like that.
So I’m guessing you enjoyed that just now?
What? The kiss or what you wrote?
Does it matter?
I loved both just about equally, babe. Maybe the kiss just a little bit more.
You better have said that.
A laugh from the couple is shared for a few brief seconds as both of them are still in an entanglement of embrace. They both obviously don’t want to let go, not one bit. She gives him another kiss that can light up the night sky, as she moves across his cheek, gently pecking each part of his cheek bone with her lips, and then moving towards his ear, as he closes his eyes gently.
She whispers… “Come on!”
Come on for what?
I think it’s time…
Time for…?
You know what I’m talking about.
Oh.
Yep, in the 5 months that they have actually been together, not once have they…done the…”Horizontal Monster Mash”. Call it “not being ready”, call it “taking their time”, call it a lot of things…it’s just that it was very tricky to do…that in the states of mind that both him and her were in at the moment when they started dating. It was weird…his first partner since Angie, and with her…the last relationship she was in involved a lot of “that” and very little emotional value. They were more “friends with benefits” than a real couple, and she didn’t want that in her next relationship. Which is why they’re at a standoff right now, embraced, with her ready to go.
She lets go of her embrace and grabs his hand, taking him to the bed next to where his laptop stood as she closed the door and locked it, a smile still on her face as she pushed him down on the bed.
And because of that, I’m cutting ahead several hours because I can…perverts. All I’ll tell you is the scene afterwards. You know those scenes in the movies AFTER the sex scenes…where everything’s covered up at exactly the right places and everything is happy. This is the complete opposite. Okay, maybe not. It’s exactly like you picture it in the movies. Both of them cuddled up together in bed, her sleeping, her head resting on his chest. It’s a sight of “Awww!” really.
A small kiss on the top of the head about 5 minutes later and she wakes up. Her eyes opening up slowly to the sight of him smiling at her. Everything seems perfect at this very moment.
Hey you.
Hey.
That was…that was something.
Something?
I can’t even get the words out on how that was, babe. So yeah…something.
Heh. Something it is then.
The two share another kiss.
I was just worried about how it was going to be and all. I shouldn’t have acted like that beforehand. I forgot about…certain things with you and I was reading what you wrote and it got me all…you know, and I was acting on impulse and…yeah, it just happened.
He grabs her and pulls her closer, kissing the top of her head again.
Hey hey, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll admit, I was a little shocked seeing you like that, but…I guess it had to happen sooner or later, right? Now we got that off our shoulders. Now, it’s just about what happens in this bed.
Guess you’re right.
She smiles and kisses him, but then lets out a small sigh.
What is it? Fuck, what’s the time?
Close to 10.
Dammit.
I know…I’m trying to ask for better hours, but I need the work, babe. Remember that.
I know.
Damn her job. I mean, it’s a nice one at that, but the hours are murderous sometimes. Before you ask, she works at one of the big lavish hotels here in Baltimore as a receptionist. Like I said, it’s a well-paying job, but as of right now, she’s stuck working the damn night shift. As she said, she’s trying to get better hours, but to no avail.
Yep, it really sucks. Least she looks cute in doing so with what she has to wear and all.
30 minutes later, she’s all dressed up for work, while he’s…still somewhat naked in bed. I say somewhat, because he threw on a shirt and some lazy pants. But still…the difference of both worlds right there. She has this lavish and nice job, while he…he’s a damn wrestler. How the hell did they find one another? That’s beside the point. She reaches over and kisses him on the lips.
Don’t wait up.
You know I never do.
She blows him another kiss and walks out of their apartment, as he turns on the TV, finds something to watch…what looks like Way of the Dragon starring Bruce Lee on G4 and slowly falls back asleep…
…
…
BZZZZZT!
BZZZZT!
BZZZZT!
What the hell? His phone vibrates as somebody is calling him. He slowly gets up to see who it is.
Hello?
Yes, this is Sarah Parker out of the Hilton hotels here. I called to inform you that Jen hasn’t come in to work yet.
What?
He looks at the time and realizes that it’s almost half past 11.
Funny, I remember her leaving about an hour ago.
It’s strange; she’s never missed a day of work.
Hold on a sec, let me check my texts here…
One of those “little things” that she always did was that whenever she actually got to work, she would text him, informing him that not only has she arrived to work clean as a pistol, but usually to leave him a note of well-luck for the day. He switched his phone to his latest messages.
Nothing.
Something was indeed up.
No, I got nothing here. Usually she leaves me a note when she checks in there, but nothing today…
Hmm, that’s odd.
Let me try to check in with her, and if I get anything, I’ll let you know, okay?
Okay. The number to the front desk is 555-4023.
Thank you.
He hangs up and has a straight moment of fear for a few seconds. A moment of panic. A while back, during a birthday trip to Boston, when with Angie, she was involved in a nasty car wreck that almost took her life. He didn’t want to have to go through that again. He immediately reaches for his phone and hits a button that speed dials directly towards her.
BRRRRRRRRRRING!
BRRRRRRRRRRING!
BRRRRRRRRRRING!
BRRRRRRRRRRING!
Click.
Hi, you’ve reached Jennifer Browning. Sorry I’m not available at the moment right now, but please leave a name, number, and message, and I’ll get back to you shortly, thanks!
FUCK!
What the hell is going on? For the love of god, she better be alr—
BZZZZZZZZZZZT!
BZZZZZZZZZZZT!
BZZZZZZZZZZT!
That number sounds weird. But it could be anybody.
Hello?
Hello, yes…this is Dr. Marshall from Johns Hopkins hospital, for who I am speaking to?
Kevin Hardaway, sir.
Mr. Hardaway, then I got the correct number then. Hate to break the bad news but, a Ms. Jennifer Browning was admitted here no less than half an hour ago.
Oh for the love of god…
Car wreck?
No, actually…it’s even worse than that.
What is it?
Well, we don’t know personally, all that we do know is that they’re apparently was a struggle because her wrists are bruised up, but…sir?
WHAT IS IT?!
Well, it appears that during the struggle, she ended up getting a quarter of her throat slit open.
Fuck it; I’ll be right there…DO WHATEVER YOU CAN, DAMMIT!
He hangs up his phone and immediately changes clothes and rushes out to his car. Before he gets in, he kneels over and ends up throwing up on the sidewalk, but doesn’t worry about it and gets in and drives off…hoping to whatever god out there that she’ll be alive and resting by the time he gets there.
It’s just like what he wrote…one night can change everything. |
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