Hey, girl, stop what you’re doin’
Hey, girl, you’ll drive me to ruin
I don’t know what it is I like about you, but I like it a lot
Won’t you let me hold you, now, let me feel your lovin’ touch

Communication breakdown, it’s always the same
Havin’ a nervous breakdown, a’ drive me insane

 

“Have you ever felt like you were falling?”

“Falling? Falling, how?”

Eyebrows arched, the questions continue.

“Falling… in love? Falling–“

Shaking her head, Lucy gets up off the couch and begins pacing around the room, her petite arms crossed over her chest.

“No.. like.. falling.”

Lucy closes her eyes and brings her hands up to her face, taking a deep breath, and then another.

“I feel lost. I feel like everything is crumbling around me and I’m so God damned angry.”

A short nod follows as the other pair of eyes within this room follows Lucy as she follows the same path she’s followed every other time she’s been in this room, trying to sort out her feelings about this or that.

She gets up, turns her back, and walks up to the window – peering out with that wistful look in her eyes – the look of someone who longs to be anywhere but in this room. Stands there for a few seconds too long, then paces along the bookshelf, reading a few of the titles to herself before she rounds the back of the couch and finally sits back down, albeit uncomfortably.

“Why are you angry?”

She throws her hands up into the air.

“Oh, I don’t know. Could it be the psychopath that has decided to come after myself and my family over something that we apparently ‘stole’? Or what about my ex husband…”

Simply the thought of her ex-husband silences her for far longer than expected. Lucy looks across the room at her counterpart, pain washing over her face as she puts her head down, trying to disguise the stinging tears in the corners of her eyes.

“CJ dying.”

She nodded her head.

“Yeah. Joe and I have been at odds too lately.”

She shrugged.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue.”

She blurts out, her voice raised and a deep frown on her lips and in her eyes. After a few tense moments, she scoffs.

“It’s probably my fault. Just like everything else.”

“What do you mean?”

She shakes her head and shoves her hands deep into her pockets.

“I’m always the one with these problems, and they always fuck everything up for everyone around me. He had to send his daughter and his ex wife to stay with his brother since there’s someone watching us. And I don’t doubt that he blames me.. which he has every right to do.”

Lucy sighs and closes her eyes. When she opens them a few seconds later, the normally bright blue seems to have been dimmed down just a bit.

“I hate me. I hate this. There are times when I wish Joe and Maggie would have never found me in that warehouse.”

That statement takes all the air out of the room for a few moments as two sets of eyes sit, staring blankly at one another. Finally, the other person leans forward, running their hand over their head, a pair of auburn eyes closing as a sigh escapes their lips.

“Lucy…”

The other person says softly, almost pleadingly – Lucy shakes her head.

“No.”

She tears her eyes away from them, looking anywhere but.

“Don’t say it.”

“Lucy…”

Lucy closes her eyes and lets out a sob.

“You’re not here. You’re not real.”

The other person sits back, their eyes never leaving Lucys.

“I’m as real as you need me to be, Lucy.”

With tears streaming from her eyes, she shakes her head – refusing to believe in any of this.

“You can’t be. I know you can’t be.”

Silence settles between the two for a while, the ticking of a clock the only sound – Slowly getting louder, and louder until Lucy clears her throat and leans forward, running her hands along the sides of her legs.

“It’s just–”

Her companion looks up, their attention drawn in by her soft voice to see her shaking her head.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Why?”

That question takes Lucy by surprise. She looks up, her eyebrows arched.

“Why? What kind of question is that? If I knew, why, don’t you think I wouldn’t be so–”

“Defeated?”

She sighs.

“Yeah. Defeated.”

“If I may…”

The other person says, getting up and moving towards Lucy – Sitting down to her side. Lucy only glances in their direction momentarily, before focusing her attention on the painting that’s on the wall.

“There are a great many things that are making you unhappy, Lucy.”

Lucy scoffs.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Her counterpart ignores her dissonance and continues on.

“Let me ask you this, though – What are you doing about it?”

Lucy doesn’t respond right away, her eyes darting around the room, almost panicking as the figure on the couch beside her waits calmly for an answer.

“The Lucy I knew wasn’t scared of her problems. The Lucy I knew wasn’t scared of the consequences of doing the right thing.”

Shame flickers over Lucy’s features as she looks down at her hands.

“Yeah, well.. A lot has happened to me since then.”

“Look at me, Lucy.”

Lucy closes her eyes and shakes her head vehemently.

“No.”

“Lucy…”

They whisper, almost pleadingly – those auburn eyes piercing through her back, giving Lucy a chill down her spine.

Finally she turns around, her eyes slowly meeting theirs.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You know why I’m here. You’re the only one who does.”

With pain etched across her face, she turns to face them fully, nodding her head.

“Now tell me… What are you doing about it?”

But Lucy didn’t have an answer. At least not one that would give them what they’re searching for.

She shrugs her shoulders.

“Nothing.”

“Why?”

“Because I–”

*Click*

Lucy stops, looking around.

“What was that?”

*Click*

Lucy watches as her companion rises from the couch and moves towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go now…”

They turn around, a soft yet calming smile on their lips. Lucy’s eyes meet theirs, she notices the corners of their eyes crinkling up as if they’re smiling too and when Lucy sees that – It feels like her heart stops beating in her chest for a moment.

“I–”

“We’ll talk soon.”

 

The door of Lucy’s New York condo swings open and Joe walks in to find Lucy seated on the edge of the couch – a far away expression on her face. He’d sworn he heard her talking to someone inside as he was unlocking the door, only to come in to find her here, by herself.

“Luce?”

Lucy turns her head slowly, her eyes bringing Joe into focus.

“Huh?”

Joe raised his eyebrows and scanned the room, his first thought was that she was already a few drinks deep into whatever she’d picked to drown herself in this day – But upon not finding any evidence of her ‘day drinking’, he sighed and let his bag drop to the floor beside the door.

“Who were you talking to?”

“I wasn’t talking to… anyone.”

Lucy replies, taking a moment to look around the room herself, as if she were trying to find something, or someone. After a few moments of not finding anything out of the ordinary – She got up and moved past where Joe was standing and into the adjacent kitchen.

Joe wasn’t especially surprised, but her behavior was raising a few red flags to him as he watched her scan the cabinets as she made her way past the one she typically kept her liquor in and opened up the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water out of it.

“Sounded like you were having a full on conversation here when I walked up.”

She nodded her head as she took a sip of water, moving back past him and reclaiming her seat on the couch, crossing her legs.

“I wasn’t. Must’ve heard something from across the hall.”

Joe nods his head, moving further into the condo, watching her body language – which hasn’t entirely changed much over the last month or two, or three – But who’s keeping count anymore? It doesn’t surprise him that she’s still hiding behind that same wall that she’s been hiding behind since all of this started – But Joe was growing tired of trying to bust his way through it, only to be met with even more, tougher defense mechanisms.

“Yeah..”

He says flatly in return, opting to move through the already occupied living room and head towards an area of the house that wasn’t filled with so much… Tension.

“Joe.”

Lucy says as she watches him move past her and towards the stairs. He stops, turning around seeing her still facing away from him.

“Yeah?”

“How’s Lizzie?”

Lucy asks, knowing that he’d gone to visit his daughter for the day – Since he’d moved her and her mother in with his brother, trying to keep them safe from whatever threat has made himself known to Lucy and her family.

Joe took a few steps back towards Lucy, another sigh escaping his lips – and the tension in his shoulders dissipating just a little bit.

“She’s fine. Wondering why she’s staying with Uncle Eric now, but we had fun.”

Lucy nods her head, not once bothering to glance at her fiance.

“That’s good.”

She says, taking another sip of her water – placing the bottle back in her lap.

“You should be spending more time up there with her. She needs you. They all need you.”

Alarms begin going off in Joe’s head once more. He walks back into the living room and takes a seat across from Lucy.

“Luce, we’ve already talked about this. I go up there to see her as often as I can, but I need to be here with you.”

“Do you?”

She questions, her eyes finally rising up to meet his. If the condo weren’t heated, it’s fairly certain that Joe would need a jacket for the coldness in Lucy’s glare. But he shrugs it off and nods his head.

“I think so. You’re not handling this very well, Lucy. With this Michael character doing what he’s doing, and CJ dy–”

“Don’t.”

Lucy stops him mid-sentence, the ice in her stare turning white hot in an instant. Putting his arms up in surrender, Joe sighs again.

“Okay, okay.. But all I’m saying is you don’t need to be alone right now.”

Lucy scoffs, which brings a soft scowl to Joe’s face.

“I’ve been alone this whole time.”

Setting his jaw, it takes all the strength Joe has to stay in his seat.

“By your own doing.”

Lucy’s eyebrows raise.

“Excuse me?”

This time it’s Joe who scoffs as he leans forward in the chair, partially grateful that he and his fiance are finally having a conversation – while partially dreading what he can already sense building up between them.

“I’ve been here, Lucy. You’ve been pushing me away almost constantly but you’re alone? You don’t have to be.”

“This isn’t your problem to handle.”

She says, matter of factly, turning her gaze away from him once more and in an instant his frustration is at an all-time high and he can’t stop himself from getting up and pacing around the room in front of her.

“That fucker threatened you, and he threatened my DAUGHTER! The moment he did that, he became my problem.”

What he didn’t expect was that Lucy had risen to her feet as well, her own jaw set as she took a few steps towards him.

“That’s WHY I told you to go be with HER.”

She yells back, defiantly.

“She’s fine! She’s safe, I don’t know why you–”

Lucy stomps her foot.

“FOR NOW! Jesus fucking Christ Joe.. I don’t NEED you here. As you’re so fucking fond of putting it to everyone else, ‘Lucy can handle herself’.”

“Well, you can.”

Lucy throws her arms up in the air.

“Then why the fuck are you here?!”

Joe steps forward, looking down at Lucy – the fire burning in both their eyes enough to set anything within their vision ablaze.

“Good question.”

He replies, staring at her for a few more seconds – Stealing a glance down at her hand, still adorned with her engagement ring, before he turns away from her, heading back towards the door, grabbing his bag up off the floor.

Lucy watches him open the door and step out, slamming it behind him.

 

Joe didn’t go too far.

But he needed to get away. Get away from her, get away from all the tension. He always had the tendency to be someone that couldn’t quite express himself through words. Part of his job was always to speak for a living and when it came to picking apart someone’s defenses and making them feel bad about something, he was an expert.

But he was never good at interpersonal relationships. He was never good at communicating. And when someone was also doing poorly, he didn’t know how to react to it.

For months, he had been dealing with a Lucy that he never really had to face before. He’d seen her at her lowest. He literally saved her life when she tried to end it. He risked prison to kill her father just because he existed.

But she was dealing with something he couldn’t kick in the face. He couldn’t rip the tendons in the knees of mental illness. He couldn’t stomp it into the ground. And in spite of depression being one of the aspects of bipolar disorder he was very familiar with, he didn’t know how to handle it in other people.

His own troubles, combined with his inability to communicate effectively, had put him at odds with the one person he never wanted to be at odds with. Lucy was lashing out. He was aware of that. She felt like she was drowning and he wasn’t much help. Any time he had a thought of being frustrated with her, of being annoyed with her, he immediately hated himself for it because he knew it wasn’t her he was mad at. He was mad at her situation. The fact that she was hurting and he was powerless to stop it. He was someone who his entire career liked to maintain control and the woman he loved was in such obvious pain and there was nothing he could do.

Any time he had a negative thought about Lucy, he knew, deep down, it was really a negative thought about himself. Of his failures. Of his impotency to be an effective communicator or a solution to her problems.

So he did storm out. Because he didn’t want to lash out at her, when it was really himself he was mad at.

But he didn’t go far.

He found himself leaning against his truck, back tossed in the back. He played with his keys. He traced the grooves of the unique design against his palm and at times, pressed the metal into his flesh when he felt the rage rise up again.

His phone rang, breaking him out of his trance of self-loathing and anger.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Joe? Why do you sound so pissed off?”

It was Eric. Of course it was. He had a tendency to show up when he was needed, even if he wasn’t wanted right now.

“Lucy,” Joe muttered, then corrected himself. “Well not really Lucy. But we’ve got problems. Feels like there’s this divide between us and I don’t know how to fix it. Sometimes I’m not even sure she wants it to be fixed. Some days man, I think she’d…”

He trailed off, not really sure where he was going with it but deciding it wasn’t fair.

“…I don’t know much about it, bro, but maybe you need to start asking her what she needs.”

The thought struck JC as ridiculous. Hadn’t he been doing just that for the last three months? It seemed like if he did, she’d just say ‘I don’t know’ and they’d be back where they started. He rolled his eyes.

“That’s not your best advice.” he said.

“I know, you’ve probably done that already. But based on everything you’ve told me, it sounds like you just have problems talking with her lately. So you need to double down. Ask her what she needs and then do that.”

“Even if she needs me to not be there? Needs to do this on her own and end up…hurt?”

“Even if that, man.” Eric replied. Somehow his brother got all the best aspects of their parents and Joe got…whatever he got.

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“To her? Or to you?”

“Both. She shouldn’t have to face this alone. She’s been treated so horribly by so many people. I don’t want to be just another person that’s failed her.”

There was silence on the other line. He expected the former GI was simply thinking.

“Have you actually told her that?” he asked, after some more moments of consideration.

“I…” Joe stammered. He hadn’t, really. It was one of those things he had been unable to properly communicate.

“Like, you keep refusing to leave, and refusing to do what she asks. Maybe you’re coming off as selfish. It’s not really up to you what she faces alone.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but had nothing to say. His brother had effectively talked him down and he had a lot to think about.

“So what do you think I should do?”

“Go apologize, ask what she wants and then do what she wants. Maybe explain to her exactly what it is that’s got you so frustrated and reassure her that it’s not her.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Joe replied.

“It’s easier than you’re making it.” GI added.

Joe nodded to no one, since he was alone in the parking lot. Then something came to him.

“Why did you call, anyway?”

“Don’t worry about it. Go do what you’ve got to do.”

GI hung up, taking away Joe’s ability to refuse his demand. Of course, he still had the car keys in his hand. His truck was to the left of him. The condo was to the right. He could be stubborn, double down on leaving and risk losing her forever. Or he could own up to his mistakes, apologize for his faults and leave himself at her mercy. That also had the same risks, but at least she would know how he felt.

A metaphorical fork in the road, just like many other crossroads he’d been at in his life.

Joe sighed, grabbed his bag, and turned right.

 

You’d think I would be happier for someone who hasn’t lost a match since February. But I’m not. And frankly, it’s none of your business why. I’ve got my reasons. The more important thing is that I’m coming to Ignition to fight people I’ve already fought in a nothing match that gets me on the card for the sake of it. Smart booking policy. Really. Top notch.

I’ve beaten Donovan Hastings. I’m pretty sure I’ve beaten Dave Rydell. Or maybe it was Duncan Ryder. You middling wrestlers with D names all look alike to me. Dickface Hastings and Douchebag Rydell are just the latest bodies in front of me. You’re just another Konrad Raab or Travis Pierce. People that I shouldn’t be mixing it up with.

I should be against Hide again. I should be against Centurion. If Lucy and I are teaming at all, it should be against Incendium.

This is a waste of our collective talents.

I know, I know. You’re both former champions. You’re capable of winning at any time. Hastings, you have a win over Lucy. Sure. But you haven’t been relevant in a long time. And you’re not jumping back to relevancy at my expense. If you do, then I should really reevaluate what it is I’m doing here. Because I didn’t come to UGWC to work my way to the middle. I’m here to be champion, not mix it up in matches that have no bearing on anything.

So once again, it seems I have to prove myself. We have to prove ourselves. We have to make examples of you. Let me remind you fuckers of exactly who you’re facing. You’re facing JC, Outlast finalist and the man who scored the most eliminations in Massive Melee last year. The man who took Hide Yamazaki to his limits twice. Who put the fear of God back in Tempest.

You’re facing Lucy Wylde. Former UGWC World Champion. Wrestlestock Cup winner. Winner of a zillion other additional accolades and highlights.

Those people are still there and just waiting to come out to play. And I think it’s time we wake this place the hell up to why we’re still threats. Why we’re at the top of the food chain. And yeah, have we been going through a rough patch? Sure. I sometimes worry that I’ll turn into the joke that Rydell is by claiming I’m going to be World Champion and never get there. Lucy’s never going to live down dropping one to the ghost of Donovan Hastings. But at an event like Ignition, we will rise like the Phoenix. Born anew and ready to fucking end those that doubted us.

I’m through apologizing for who I am or what I did in the past. I’m tired of waiting for opportunities to come to me. I’m going to start taking things, and if that means hurting you, REALLY hurting you, then that’s what I’ll do.

Because quite frankly, I’m sick of perennial also-rans like you two always finding a way to drag the stars back down to your level. The title of the PPV is apt, because I’m going to set your entire fucking life on fire to get back to where I belong. And when the failure begins to taste like ash in your mouths, you’ll realize that where you fucked up was agreeing to face a force like us to begin with.

 

The door to the condo opens once more, a figure stepping in and looking around the now empty room.   Rustling can be heard in the distance, and as they approach the source of the noise, they stop – watching Lucy as she finishes putting a few things into a bag.

“Lucy?”

Lucy whips around, her eyes wide at first – but as soon as she sees who it is her demeanor changes, and again – She’s shocked.

“Y-You’re back?”

Her companion nods, taking another step towards her.

“I told you we’d talk soon.”

They motion towards the bag sitting on a chair.

“What are you doing?”

Lucy turns her attention back to the bag, zipping it up and slinging it over her shoulder.

“Leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

She still can’t hold the gaze of the figure, as she looks down at her feet and shrugs.

“I don’t know.  I just know I don’t want to be here right now.”

“That’s okay.”

“It is?”

She asks, glancing up – her face looking for reassurance.

“Of course it is.  Is… Is everything okay?”

Lucy shakes her head.

“It never is.”

A short pause, followed by a soft sigh that draws Lucy’s attention.

“It’s okay to not be okay.”

Lucy’s shoulders fall slightly, almost as if the weight of the world is on them.

“I don’t feel like it is.”

The figure steps forward once more, extending a hand and laying it gently on Lucy’s shoulder.  Lucy jumps the moment they touch, her eyes closing for a split moment before she pulls away and walks towards the door.

“Lucy..”

“Don’t.  Please, don’t.”

Lucy says quietly – shaking her head.

“I’m barely holding it together as it is.  You’re not here.”

“Aren’t I?”

She turns around again, her face wrought with worry.

“No.”

She looks at them for a few more seconds, almost wistfully before she pulls herself away and closes the distance between herself and the door.

“And now?  Neither am I.”

All the figure can do is watch as she quietly opens the door and steps out, letting it close softly behind her.

 

It’s been a rough year, to say the least.  And not just for me, but for everyone.

…

So why doesn’t this feel like it’s the perfect place to be?

For all intents and purposes, I should be living it up.  I mean look around.  This shit is beautiful.  We’re all literally hundreds upon hundreds of miles away from our problems.. And yet here I am.  Somehow my suitcase is packed full of everything I hoped I’d left back in New York.  Except this suitcase feels like it’s strap is wrapped around my neck – The weight constantly tugging like a–

Well, you know. 

One would think I’d be able to let it all go, even if just for a little while.  After all, Ignition is coming up.  Big show.  You know, where the lights all shine just a little brighter and everyone hits everyone else just a little harder.. Trying to make the most of their big moments.  And me?  Well, I’ve got Joe by my side – So what could possibly be my problem?  

Heh.

Well, that’s a loaded question. 

And no, I ain’t going into it.  So don’t bother. 

The point is, I’m here.  I’m here with all the baggage that comes along with being Lucy Wylde – But ya’ll have been around me long enough to know that already, right?   Lucy just can’t catch a break.  Lucy just can’t chill out and enjoy the ride.

I don’t know.  I guess some things aren’t as easy to escape as others. 

So, I’m sorry if it seems like my mind isn’t here in Hawaii with all the fun and sun and all that other bullshit.  I’m sorry that my physical form is the only thing that made the flight over here to Honolulu and that that’s the only thing that’s gonna show up to the arena on Monday night.  

I’m sorry if I can’t make it feel like my main concern is Donovan Hastings or Dave Rydell or this whole ‘wrestling business’ as a whole. 

No, wait.  Scratch that. 

I’m not sorry. 

I ain’t sorry at all about any of that. 

But hey, before you go grabbing at your pitchforks and torches – Let me explain.  

You see, those of you who’ve been paying attention to anything as of late has noticed that good old Lucy has been on a bit of a losing streak.   And hey, that’s okay.   My mind hasn’t been here.  My head hasn’t been in the game and my body has paid the price, that and my win/loss record.  Shit’s hitting the fan back at home and well, shit’s probably gonna hit the fan over here too.  Just give it time.  So maybe, just maybe…

Maybe I should have just stayed home, right?  I mean why wouldn’t I have entertained the thought of skipping my flight out here? 

Because I’m not a quitter. 

Despite the bullshit that is my life, I show up every week and I work my ass off to give whatever is left of myself to these shows.  To this industry.   I put my Goddamned body on the line and put the tattered shreds of my soul out there to bear because I KNOW that regardless of how I feel week in and week out – There are still people out there who cheer when they see me step out from behind that curtain.  There was a time when I WAS the UGWC World Champion.  There were a few times when I WAS the UGWC Cross-Hemisphere Champion.  Each of those fights that I stepped through that curtain for were against people who, in my opinion, are legends around here. 

Tell me that the names Gabriel Baal or Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan don’t elicit some kind of emotional response when they’re said and I’ll call you a fucking liar.  And maybe, my name does that very same thing. 

Why?

Because I bled for this company.  Years of my life went into walking through that curtain, carrying the UGWC banner for all to see.  Through everything.  Through some of the worst moments of my life – I still gave it my all.  So, forgive me if I’m just a little mentally checked out right now.  

Ask me if I care about Dave Rydell.   

Ask me if I care about Donovan Hastings. 

Ask me with a straight face, and I’ll try my damnedest to give you a straight-faced answer. 

…

The truth of the matter is, I don’t care.  But hey, let’s not stop there.   Tell me, does anyone seem to give a flying fuck that Lucy Wylde has suddenly fallen off?  Nah.  Of course not.  But that’s the nature of the beast, ain’t it?   That’s just how this business works – But to be fair, I don’t really care that no one’s really asked about my well-being either.  

That’s like me asking the bottoms of all those empty bottles, ‘Where’d all the whiskey go?’

But don’t think I don’t know why no one’s made an attempt to give a fuck about someone outside of themselves.  Perhaps they’re too busy judging me because they think my heart just isn’t in this shit anymore.

If my heart wasn’t in this.. Then why the fuck am I here?

Why am I standing on this God forsaken beach surrounded by a volcanic lump out in the middle of the pacific fucking ocean to face Donovan ‘Who gives a fuck’ Hastings and David fucking Rydell?  As if this isn’t some fucked up punishment, as if this match at Ignition isn’t needling the existential crisis that I feel whenever I step through the curtain and I’m not at my very best. 

I guess, if there was anything that I even remotely admire about Donny and Dave… it’s that they don’t care when they suck.  I’m not sure if it’s ego, or if it’s just more convenient to forget.. But it’s not like Rydell and Hastings have been setting the world ablaze as of late either.  But what you people don’t realize is that it gnaws at me.  

It fucking gnaws at me. 

And I get it.  I’m not owed a damn thing by this company.. But God damnit, I still have my pride.  

And no, I’ve not yet beat you Hastings.  And Monday night would be the perfect time for me to get that shit stain off of my record.  

But.. To those of you who think that I just show up and that I don’t care – Who think that I’m pissed off because I haven’t had the validation to show for how much effort I put into my craft… For those of you who think that I’m just depressed or otherwise ‘okay’ with the fact that I’ve been a giant pile of shit lately…

You can all go straight to hell. 

The piercing truth of the matter is… If I’m already destined to lose, I might as well make it worth my time.  

I’ve got a lot of anger and rage built-up inside of me – In case you couldn’t tell.. And hey, I’ll be kind enough to give you two fucks a fair warning.  You know, because I’m nice like that.  

I’ve always played by the rules and I’ve tried my hardest to be an example of what a good champion and a good locker room leader should be.  But you know what?  There’s only so much that one bitch can take.  So, if the good people here in the UGWC wanna feed Joe and I Davey boy and Donny?  Well, I’d be happy to send one or both of them back through that curtain on a stretcher because I can only be nice for so long.  I can only do the right thing for so long before that shit gets tiring. 

Everyone has a breaking point and I’m well past mine. 

Rydell?  Hastings?  

It’s nothing personal. 

What’s gonna happen out there on Monday… It’s simply a case of wrong place at the wrong fucking time for you.  Oh, and just in case you two aren’t particularly worried about me?  Well, there’s still Joe… And he might just kick both of your heads off your shoulders.  Hell, I might just grab myself a pina colada and watch that happen because fuck it.  I’m dropping the pretense.  

I don’t have to pretend like I give a shit anymore.

The only thing I’m out for now… Is blood. 

Whose blood?  Your blood?  Well, just in case you’re wondering.. Any blood will do at this point.  

I’m sure you guys have plenty of shit to say about me.. But is any of it any different from anything I’ve said already?  Can you possibly manage to put your two brain cells together and come up with something that I haven’t heard before?  Bets are that you can’t.  

But hey… Why don’t you keep trying to tell me that my heart isn’t into this shit and I’ll rip yours out and put it wherever I damn well please because you’re paper boats trying to forge a river of molten lava.  Anything you can do to me… I’m damn well guarantee that I can do it harder… And make it hurt worse than anything you could ever dream of.  

Good luck not getting burned, boys.