They laughed as Amber stood next to me completely frightened at these men. These weren’t Abercrombie & Fitch models; these were rugged hairy men who looked like they could be some cellmate’s daddy.
Maybe half the reason no wrestling companies would hire them.
I hate to say it but today’s world isn’t about being good at wrestling…or anything. It’s not about being good at something it’s about looking good while doing it. Let’s see, what do they call it?
Marketability.
There we go. If you don’t make little kids love you and women wet their underwear less than two seconds from the time you took off your shirt to wrestle – you won’t be seeing inside of a professional ring anytime soon. Sad but true, talent is something that is no longer required whereas your ability to put asses in seats with your boyish-good looks is a necessity.
Oh how times have changed.
But rather going on and on at the pathetic state of affairs I rather discuss how times have truly changed. I stood there as for the first time in her life, she clenched onto my arm rather than attempt to stay the farthest distance possible from me. She didn’t want a single thing to do with this motley crew of abandoned wrestlers – she rather stick with the knight in dingy armor than be with a bunch of prison daddies who only need a leather jacket and chopper to start up their own Hell’s Angel.
Oh the sweet irony.
One of them walked up in an attempt to grab her and she quickly slapped them across the face. He quickly laughed and turned his head back straight looking toward her, he quickly elbowed her in the head and she was knocked out.
“Hey there muscles, no need to hit a lady.”
“That slap wasn’t lady-like.”
I shook my head as he picked her seemingly lifeless body and placed her into their van. As they got in, one of the guys stayed back and walked up to me to hand me a piece of torn off paper. I looked at it and what I could make of the guy’s chicken scratch writing was an address – more than likely where they would be holding Amber. I nodded my head and simply shoved it in my pocket. He nodded and walked off into the van and they drove off. I walked to the back of the dimly lit parking lot into the night shadows to where my Acura stayed. I sat in there and locked the door, my head lent up against the headrest attempting to think of the next move.
Maybe I should call Mark…
The minute I open my phone I see one missed call and two text messages. The missed call was from home and one of the two text messages is from my wife: probably just checking up on me. I checked the other one…
From: Justin
“yo, i heard u were in boston. thought u were goin to nj?”
A sudden jerk reaction pushes my head up as I look around…almost swearing the kid was behind me. No one was there; I closed my phone and threw it on the passenger seat as I reversed. Driving off into the dark night where only a glimpse of green shines down from a billboard advertising the Celtics playoff game against the Cavaliers.
I can’t control the feeling…
This feeling that the closer I get to the end of this tunnel, the closer I get to finally getting the revenge I so justly deserve – is the closer my plans are being unraveled. I needed to talk to Mark, Shorty, someone…I need a few confident words in my ears to tell me I’ll make it.
I need to stop being an over-dramatic queen, that’s what I really need.
I could be in Boston for numerous reasons; I could be here to catch some tickets to see the Celtics…
I fucking hate Boston sport teams.
I could be in Boston to make sure no one knows about Gaines’ tragic ending…
I don’t give a shit about his death.
I could be in Boston looking for Amber…
All right, if I actually gave a damn about her that would make sense but I don’t.
There is truly no way to explain what the hell I’m doing in Boston and I’m sure a “LOL smiley face” reply is not going to cut it either. He knows something is up and I’m sure one of his boys saw me on the ride over from Jersey so there is no denying it either. As much as there are people who hate him, there are people who ride his coattails until the very end. Trying down these cold windy Boston streets attempting to figure out what story I can make up was the worst feeling in my life. I sat at the quiet street with the red light staring me dead in my face. It felt like most of my career, a nice big red light in front of me denying me what I wanted. All I could do was crank up the heat and zip up my black leather jacket attempting to get my head together. It was maybe one of the few moments where I couldn’t stand the cold that I had so much embraced in the past or maybe the truth is I couldn’t stand myself. I couldn’t stand or even understand how I could function like this when I had to look my kids in the face.
Sometimes, I worry I might not be able to beat Davis if the day ever arrived.
How does a man stand that his loved one is no longer with him but is very much out there somewhere?
How is it that he could function when Amber is gone?
I couldn’t function without knowing exactly where Ashley is and that she is safe. This is the highest cost of being a star – the ability for those to know your weakness. The ability to know if they pulled off a successful kidnapping and took your family that they would have effectively destroyed you. I think about all those years I kept to myself and how barely any drama surrounded me. Now I’m racing down the street thinking about how while Hudson attacked Davis right in his face, I’m the one secretly plotting his downfall behind his back, how I swung at my former tag team partner’s head to save my current stable mate’s leg.
Did I save him because he’s my stable mate or did I save him so I, rather than Hudson, could destroy him?
I have to question what should be a selfless act because honestly, my intentions are selfish and volatile. The closer to the promised the day, the closer my true colors are being shown – to myself. I quickly look in the rear view mirror at an angle to see myself – just so I can make sure it’s my body I’m in, not some psychopath who was never hugged as a child. It was me but here I am acting like that kind of person. I almost begin to question if this revenge is worth changing who the man I am and the morals I hold.
That was always my fucking problem.
This ability to turn soft and walk away before I do what I have planned it is by far the most pathetic aspect of me.
My name shouldn’t be Glacier; it should be fucking Ice Cream.
No. I am going through with this. No more checking moral value and backing out of things. I have gone this far. I have cost a man his life; I have kidnapped a woman of sentimental value to my enemy. I CANNOT go back; I’ve done too much damage for Davis to forgive me even if I caved in right now.
Hell, I’ve worked too hard to screw him over to forgive myself for turning my back on all the work I’ve done.
If Davis can cock a gun, I can cock this metaphorical gun to his head and pull the trigger.
I can put an end to him; I can be as twisted if not more twisted than him.
Forgive me for my obsession. Forgive me for my transgression.
But I do what must be done even if it takes part of my soul to do it. How many times have I tried to play the good guy? How many times must I be slapped in the face, turn to the other cheek, and be slapped again? How many more times do I have to play the doormat to someone else? The last and final push to the top and Davis will be my boosting step. I am not talking about making an example out of him; I’m talking about taking him out – for good.
Hudson is a spineless coward.
I won’t give him the satisfaction of destroying Davis – no, that belongs to me and me alone. Hudson’s fights and arguments are because he is a whiny bitch with no backbone who only decides he is going to become something worth noting when a championship is on the line. Davis and my grudge are far deeper than that, a resentment that cannot be topped by some piece of gold belt. Pride is on the line and there is not a single person who knows our grudge. They think it is an act – I’m the bitter asshole who always shits on his parade and he is the lesser evil of us two. They don’t know they don’t even have the slightest clue that I want him on the mat bloody and lifeless. I want his eyes to roll up into the back of his head; I want to smash his jaw in with my boot so he could look like a hollowed man.
Let me guess, you’re probably assuming I’m crazy for wanting him to receive so much hell for a betrayal that happened over a year ago.
Let me guess, you never got embarrassed in front over 100,000 fans in attendance – made to look like a pathetic weak champion who was nothing more than dead weight – all because of the greed of Davis and the egotistical Hudson.
Hudson thought he was carrying the weight of the team and thought I wasn’t worth a grain of salt. Davis wanted gold so badly given the fact he lost his title to Chris three days after he won it. They were both desperate pathetic men looking for someone to place their inadequacies and insecurities on. I was the perfect candidate – right time, right place in their mind. Now the two are at each other’s throats while neither of these jackasses can put two heads together and find Amber. Sometimes I suspect neither cares for her – not surprising from Hudson’s viewpoint he’s moved on. Davis, however, I’m stunned with. Then again we’re talking about who took someone’s life about two weeks ago.
Maybe he cares, maybe he doesn’t. I haven’t talked to him awhile – still playing the ‘I’m so shocked and ashamed of you’ song and dance act I’ve been doing since that fateful night. He got the week off from wrestling but I still expect him in Minnesota. I’ll see where his mindset is at when I arrive and move from there. I’m sure he wants to kill Hudson – those two with their lovers’ tiff as usual. I’m sure once their match is over they’ll be buddies again – the same on and off high school dating behavior that those two have had since they met years ago. I wonder if they ever get tired of that. Hah, listen to me – I almost sound like a scorned ex. Boy, some things never change.
I had a long night ahead of me as I was heading to Minnesota by JFK Airport in New York – only now just getting out of the Massachusetts area. I sat there waiting behind a turning car.
“was hangin’ out with a couple of friends of mine, chillin’ wit some chick I met awhile back too”
To: Justin
Sometimes the truth is just the best way out.
Well if it isn’t the current half tag team champion on the cusp of jumping into the Underground division, which I find interesting as a former SCW tag team champion myself. How’s it been going thus far? Oh that’s right; you haven’t even entered into a single underground rules match yet. Doesn’t it feel like you have some catching up to do? And what kind of insensitive asshole would put you in a match against a man who just beat the Underground champion? Man, the administration must have a hard on for seeing you in the ground. I mean if it isn’t Karnivale attempting to injure you, its Drew Weilacher attempting to permanently put you on the shelf. You just seem like a marked man wherever you go.
Now, one would think to himself – ‘well damn almost everyone wants me disabled or dead. Maybe I should hang by Rupp until these blood-thirsty mongrels find someone else to devour’. But no, Brayden you’re a “special” kind of guy. The guy mommy hands whole wheat bread cut diagonally into two pieces and gives you a boxed drink…at the age of twenty-five. You’re the kind of guy who is being chased down and thinks it’s a bright move to find solace in the UNDERGROUND DIVISION. I understand you want to be like Aaron Rupp and hold two titles. I know secretly you envy him, that’s all fine and dandy but do you really want to get into this line of work knowing good and well that everyone knows about that injured leg of yours. Yes, it might have healed but it doesn’t mean two nice solid swings from a baseball bat won’t put it back to the status it once was months ago. Now I’m sure you’re a bright boy, I’m sure you can add up where I am going with this.
Injury + People That Hate You and Want You Shelved + Underground Division = Now where the hell did I put that smiley face picture of a big yellow circle frowning facial expression?
Now, now – don’t get flustered and angry. I’m not counting you out – look at you big man – Half of the SCW Tag Team Champion and once again, I must thank you for putting that little bitch Robert Mercury out of his misery by beating him and his brother. For that one random act of kindness I’ll award you with one of my own – I’ll make sure that I’ll hurt you until you reinjure your leg so you can’t kick out of the pin but I won’t completely annihilate it so you won’t have to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life.
Aren’t I the kindest person you’ve met? Surely I never understood why people told me I need to seek a therapist, I suppose they are jealous of how giving a person I am.
Well truly, Brayden I have no intention to count you out. You’ve been here for awhile and you’ve had your fair share of success but this Underground division? No, this one is mine I suggest you stay in the place where you find most of your success since you got here – in the tag team division. Don’t venture out in places you have no experience or understanding in – I’m sure Rupp doesn’t want to head to the hospital every week to see which new bone has been shattered in your body and I’m sure our insurance company doesn’t want to throw out that kind of money either. Let me make it clear, your experience in another federation’s hardcore division does not equate this company’s division. I’ve been in the ring with guys like The Real Speed, as drunken and misguided as he is, he is considered one of the best Underground division wrestlers to have graced the ring. I was around Davis when he won his Underground title and I’ve already shown you last week when it’s my turn to step up to the plate.
I suggest you don’t stray from that tag belt; you wouldn’t want to end up like me – getting beaten down by a tag team partner who gets an ego and thinks you aren’t doing your fair share of the work. Enjoy that one piece of gold you have – you know what greed gets you right? Gets you a lot more than you bargained for or in your case you might chase after this belt – never win it and end up losing you tag belt and have nothing at all. That would be a tragic way to end your reign as tag champion and I’m sure Rupp wouldn’t appreciate it at all.
If you think you have it all figured out, big man, then be my guest. I’ll be waiting for you in the ring with a bat and absolutely nothing to lose. Trust me when I say you have a lot more on the line than me. Aren’t you the one supposed to be ‘liberating’ this company one mind at a time? Well let me introduce to Bad Company…We enlighten people through brutality and if the force behind my swing with a bat is anything to go by, you’ll be on the receiving end of a lot of enlightening.
You could be a monk by the end of the match, that or a person who just learned the hard way that not all things that glitter is gold and just because the grass over here is greener doesn’t mean it isn’t riddled with snakes like me who wait for the first jackass to step over the fence so I can bite them in the leg. Don’t be that inopportune moron who thinks they can walk in between me and destiny, you don’t want a quarter of your career to be stained with that kind of embarrassing situation where you thought you had one up and you could walk in and take what I’m fighting for only to find a bat flying to the back of your head. I rather you wake up unconscious with a hooker in your leg arm and condoms in your right hand than the outlining mark of a bat across the back of your head.
Just say no to drugs.
Just say no to intruding into a situation you more than likely cannot handle…sort of like what you’re doing now.
