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Catching Up to the Past, Part III (Fight or Flight)


Grandma Took Me Home
Jan 31, 2004
"What do think his angle is?" Scott asks.

Scott and Courtney lounge around their cramped downtown apartment. Scott flips through the channels on the television and Courtney thumbs through a magazine. Courtney's legs are draped over Scott's lap and her back rests against the arm of the couch. The last show was hard on Scott's physical, but his moral was up. The win and kept promise had secured him a title shot again Vizier ta Seti at next week's event. The only trouble on his mind was the mysterious return of Courtney's older brother, Derrick.

"I honestly don't know, babe. Maybe there is no angle?" Courtney replies without looking up from her magazine.

Courtney tended to give her brother the benefit of the doubt over the years when he and Scott would get into petty arguments. Normally over something meaningless to her; which band is better than the other, Canada verse Mexico, and of course the coup de gras, greatest wrestler of all time. Each argument effectively "ending" their friendship for what always turned out to be a extremely short period of time. She knew how stubborn Scott could be all too well.

Scott turns and looks in Courtney's direction.

"That; I find hard to believe. You could cut the tension with a knife, last night." Scott tells her.

Courtney drops her magazine down to her lap in exhausted frustration and looks up to Scott.

"Well, you didn't exactly have a going away party when you left, Scotty." Courtney reminds. "I don't know if everyone will be as forgiving as I was. After all, the two of you started all this wrestling none-sense together and ..."

"Hey, this wrestling none-sense pays us both now, Court'." Scott interjects.

Courtney raises her magazine back to a comfortable reading level and responds, "You're right. Sorry, old habits. It seemed like none-sense when you two got into it. I mean ... I don't think anyone would have ever guessed you'd be on television."

Scott chuckles, "Well, **** ... I did. Ye' of little faith. I'd imagine Derrick did as well."

"Well, you are. He's not." Courtney quips back, revealing the possibility of resentment toward Scott for not helping her brother out more effectively.

Scott becomes irritated, sits up from his reclined position and snaps at Courtney; "Look, we talked about this. We were all on the fast track to nowhere, the booze, the drugs, the night life ... I just had to go. I didn't know how to face you, much less anyone else."

Scott pauses, expecting a response. Courtney says nothing and continues flipping through her magazine. Awkward silence engulfs the undersized living room.

"... I was lucky to get a spot. I wasn't in the position to start leveraging anyone else the same opportunity." Scott says to re-assure himself more than anyone else.

Again, Courtney says nothing. Scott continues, trying to fill the silence that's making him feel worse with every click of the analog clock that hangs on the wall just behind the couch. Courtney's prolonged silence causes Scott's level of aggravation to rise with each thundering tick and/or tock.

"What was I supposed to do, Court'? Hey, I know you barely want me but can you find some extra cash laying around to bring along my girlfriend and ... oh, yeah ... Can you give her brother a spot as well?"

Courtney drops her magazine again and stares at Scott, measure what she could possibly say. Let loose the anger and resentment teaming just below the surface or show restraint and let the storm pass.

"I don't know what the hell people want from me, Court'. I felt trapped, and I had to run. Fight or Flight. I flew to fight and try to make something of myself. Things worked out in the end right?"

Courtney closes her magazine, swings her feet off of Scott's lap and down to the floor. She places the magazine down on the coffee table and reaches for a pack of cigarettes. She pulls one from the crush proof box and places it between her supple pink lips and lights it. Throwing her feet back up on the couch, she crunches up on her end and pulls her knees up to her chest. She inhales deeply and exhales almost instantly.

Scott can tell, by the look on her face he is digging himself a hole, and continues to ramble on in attempt to escape this dismal pit that will find him in the dog house.

"I mean, really ... you tell me; Was I supposed to drag you down to Bum-****, Texas with me?"

Courtney continues to smoke her cigarette intensely, but in silence. Other than her sigh like exhale she utters not a sound. Scott's temper and pre-conceived notions get the best of him.

"Oh, so now I'm getting the silent treatment? Your brother is in town less than twenty four hours and already he becomes a point of contention between us. Big surprise.”

Courtney turns and drops her feet back to the old rug covering the wood planked floor and leans forward to the coffee table. She jams the half smoked cigarette down into the cluttered ash tray and frantically outs it. She gets up from the couch, stomps into the adjacent bedroom and slams the door. The door clicks against the latch but doesn't hold and swings slightly ajar on recoil. She slams her open palm into the door again and the second sound is amplified louder than the first. Scott collapses back on the couch while throwing his hands into the air in frustration.


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