No Place Like Home, Part VI (Make It A Double)
The International Wrestling Federation’s latest episode of Chain Reaction had gone off, nearly, without a hitch and seemed to picking up steam in both ticket sales and ratings alike. A very small few had left the Moss Bay Event Center that night displeased. Scott Douglas was, in fact, one of the few.
“Son of a *****!” a disgruntled Scott scoffed to himself as he barreled out the back door of the event center. “Damn it man.”
Scott’s leather jacket blew back behind him like a cape of sorts as he walked against the wind on a frigid Seattle night. His fleeing jacket lending no warmth or shelter from the harsh night air except the small amount of wind it cut from his shoulders and tattooed arms. A gray sweat shirt underneath provided as much defense as it could, while the mutilated denim covering his lower extremities had given way years ago. His bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder Scott marches toward the bus stop smoking a cigarette and beating himself up.
“Lost to a god damn gym rat.”
As Scott treks down the side walk letting his anger get the best of him his cell phone buzzes in the pocket of his aforementioned jacket. The alert sound and subsequent sequence of vibrations signifying a text message sends him searching for this small device. The message stops him in his tracks.
[SUB]Last Chance for Emerald Dreams; Over The Top Rope Battle Royal:
MLM/Scott D/Stephen W/Dusty R
[/SUB]
“Holy **** …” Scott exclaims in amazement as he stares at the screen of the phone.
As he lets the message set in and attempts to let the anger and frustration from the nights defeat leave him the screen changes in an instant.
[SUB]Incoming Call from Courtney
206-555-3812[/SUB]
Scott lets out the sigh to end all sighs as the phone rings on; playing Green River’s lost hit “Baby Takes.” He lets it go until the last possible second and hesitantly answers as he continues his walk down to the bus stop.
[SUB]
Scott: Hello?
Courtney: Hey babe! I just got off cut so I didn’t see the show. How’d you do!?
Scott: Not so well.
Courtney: Awww, babe! I’m sorry. Wish there was something I could do to make it better.
Scott: Since you mention it. We probably need to talk.
Courtney: Umm, ok. ‘Bout what?
Scott: You still at work?
Courtney: Yeah …
Scott: You headed home or you going to get a drink?
Courtney: Well, I was going to get a drink but depends now …
Scott: Alright, well just stay there and I’ll come up.
Courtney: Ok… I love you.
Scott: … ah, alright.[/SUB]
Scott clicks the red end button on his phone and drops it back in his pocket just in time to step up on the city bus. He takes a seat along the aisle about mid-way and tries to decompress from the nights poor performance. His relaxation lulls him into a light slumber which he only snaps out of as the well worn bus screeches to a less than subtle halt at his stop. Scott exits the bus and foots it the two blocks back to the small bar known simply as “The Whiskey Bay.” Courtney had only worked there a few months as she tended to jump around from job to job fairly often. Scott entered through the front door and scanned the place for his lady (bad) luck and found her sitting at the end of the bar. He headed over toward her and took a seat.
“Jack, rocks ...” Scott says; motioning to the bartender.
“Hey, babe!” Courtney springs to life, “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go like you planned. You’ll get ‘em next time.”
Courtney turns back to her drink as the bartender sets Scott’s down in front of him.
“Put it on her tab.” Scott tells the bartender.
Courtney turns to Scott abruptly, “Babe, I thought you were gonna buy.”
Scott can barely pulled his drink back from his lips before he responds, “with what Court’? Pay out ain’t **** when you lose!”
Courtney had grown complacent with Scott’s little nest egg he had stock piled during his time in Mexico. In the grand scheme of things it really wasn’t much but it kept them both quite intoxicated over the past two weeks since his return home. The reality of his true finical situation started to set it. It wasn’t good and without a successful run in IWF he’s be out of peso’s before New Years.
“Look, since I’ve been home … we have had a lot of fun.” Scott tells Courtney. “And I’m not blaming you but I’ve really neglected my training. While Kerry, whatever the hell his name is, was in the gym sucking up to his master or sensei or whatever … I was out boozing and tearing up the town with you.”
Scott pauses to take a sip of his drink. Courtney’s lip starts to quiver and her eyes well up like she is preparing to unleash the water works.
“Are you saying we shouldn’t see each other anymore?” Courtney stammers out.
Scott places his glass back on the bar and though she had just stated his actual intentions; seeing the one time love of his life in such a fragile state brought all the old feelings rushing back again. In an instant his intention h
ad changed. He had come here to break off a relationship he never meant to rekindle yet now he feels powerless to do so.
“No, no … Court’, look at me.” He pauses. “Look at me … That is not what I’m trying to say. I’m just saying that I can’t be out living it up with you constantly. I need to get back to the gym. Keep up my regimen. Stay on top of my business… or else I’m gonna be out on my ass. That loss tonight almost cost me a shot at the title! Luckily I get another shot.”
“So what’s this mean for us?” Courtney asks, flashing her best puppy dog eyes at Scott.
“It just means I’ve got to get my head in the game… and we may see a little less of each other but that’s all. I’m not putting any blame on you but come on Court’ you know how we get …” Scott reasoned.
She did know. She had the arrest record and restitution fines to prove it. She didn’t quite get it though. In they’re younger years she and Scott would get loaded on the way to the show and trash the community center locker room after; win or lose. But she knew at some point she and Scott both had to grow up. She just never thought that time would be now, or any time soon for that matter.
“If you want to do this together Court’ I’d love to have you in my …” Scott is interrupted by Courtney’s phone ringing.
“Hello?” she answers and launches into conversation with what can only be assumed is one of her bar hopping, twenty something peers.
Scott turns back to his drink and downs the remainder. The bartender approaches like a lion stalking his prey. “Another?” he asks.
Scott looks toward Courtney yakking away on the phone about some club or bar she’s already committed both of their attendance to and Scott realizes not a word he has said has affected her in the least.
This is where decisions are made. In this moment it is; stay or go.
The choice made here tonight will directly affect his life and his career in professional wrestling.
“Yeah, make it a double.”