Mile Two

“Ms. Wylde!” The short, slightly rotund woman shrieked through the ever-growing crowd and rushed towards Lucy, nearly bowling over at least four people on her way towards where Lucy stood, her eyes darting around – towards anything besides the woman bee-lining towards her and drawing all the attention. “I am SO happy that you’re here!”

And that was Lucy’s cue to plaster a convincing smile on her lips and finally turn her attention downwards at the toothy, excited grin of someone far too happy to be in her presence right now. “Likewise.”

If she hadn’t stepped back, Lucy was sure that the woman would have nearly thrust her hand through Lucy’s midsection. But Lucy shook her hand anyway, trying to see the positives in being in Boston today… And then the woman opened her mouth again. “I’m Helen, your boss Mister DeeMoss and I spoke on the phone. It really is so nice to have you here today, Ms. Wylde. I’m sure the runners are going to think so too!”

Stifling a laugh at Helen’s pronunciation of Phrixus’ name, Lucy nodded her head. There was definitely something she could have said here, but instead all Helen got back was awkward silence.

Helen cleared her throat, “…So, let’s get you set up, yeah? Race is getting ready to begin and we’re going to be one of the first stops along the course.”

Before Lucy could say anything, the woman scurried away – motioning for Lucy to follow along. Within mere moments Lucy was pummeled with what she could only deem to be useless information about the race, and what they were set to expect when the runners made it to where their station was set up. Seconds after that, Lucy wound up wearing one of those reflective vests and a baseball cap that said ‘VOLUNTEER’ on the front.

One look down at herself and she wondered how much trouble she’d get in if she snuck out of here right now. Lucy took another look over at Helen, quickly realizing that she was still rambling. “…And that’s about it. Do you have any questions for me?”

Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “Seems pretty simple to me.”

Helen seemed satisfied with that response, and patted Lucy on the shoulder. “Amazing. Then I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other quite a bit today. Have fun!”

As quickly as she’d come, Helen was gone and Lucy just stood there amid a small crowd of other people wearing the same get up as she was. Many of them were actually doing things to prepare, getting water and sports drinks set up in their coolers, setting cups out on tables, laying out extra sunscreen and other things the runners might need in a pinch.

For a split second, Lucy felt like maybe she should see if any of them needed help, but then she remembered that she wasn’t entirely invested in this whole ‘help out at the marathon’ deal and she would rather be spending her day where she normally was on a MONDAY – which was typically NOT in Boston.

“At least the two of them are in the same boat as I am.” Lucy muttered to herself while she walked to the front of the tent and glanced out at the empty street in front of it. The thought of tired, sweaty runners in need of aid running up to someone like Trent Steel or McWrestleface, it made Lucy smile. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering.

“Hey there,” A strange voice pulled her from her thoughts, and Lucy turned her head to see a man, around her height, with the number 241 taped to his chest. “you wouldn’t happen to be the Lucy Wylde, would you?”

She nodded her head. “Guilty as charged.”

The man put a hand to his chest and let out what she hoped was a sound of excitement as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “My wife is going to flip out! Do you mind…?”

His request took Lucy by surprise, but she nodded her head anyway and allowed the guy to take a picture of her.

“Thanks so much! She’s going to love this!”

The man gave Lucy another look before he began to run off in the direction of the starting line. It was then that Lucy realized she’d been wearing that ridiculous hat and vest and part of her tried to let it go, but the Eden Morgan/Sebsastian Everett Bryce infested part of her brain just couldn’t.

“Hey!” She shouted out, garnering the attention of everyone in the tent around her, and the man as he trotted away. He stopped and turned around, shocked to see Lucy power walking towards him, stripping the hat off her head and the vest off of her chest. “Delete that and take one that doesn’t make me look like I’m doing community service.”

“Oh, oh yeah, sure!” The guy was all too happy to do as Lucy demanded. But as Lucy was set to leave, he spoke up again. “Say, you didn’t happen to bring–”

Lucy stopped and turned, shaking her head. “Seb’s doing his own thing this week.”

“I-I was gonna say Rogan… My wife’s a huge fan of his too.”

“He’s at home. He hasn’t wrestled in quite a while, besides he’s got a bar to run and not a lot of time to set aside for much else.” Lucy replied with a sigh. None of what she said was false, but there was quite a bit more to it than she was going to go into with a complete stranger. So she shrugged. “Sorry.”

 

A Few Days Before

To say progress had come to a complete halt would be putting it nicely. Part of Lucy felt terrible that she was solely responsible for the tension and the silence that had taken over their household ever since that day. The day things felt like they were finally getting back to normal…

Until that tape came to life on its own behind Rogan’s back.

Since then, Rogan had been keeping Lucy at arms length. Lucy knew that if she wanted to make things right, she had to be the one to make the effort. Rogan, for all intents and purposes has done nothing wrong.

The other part of Lucy, however, couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d seen with her own eyes. Proof that there was something on that VHS tape. Proof that maybe she wasn’t entirely crazy after all. That part of Lucy felt compelled to figure it out. She felt like it was her duty to make sure that tape wasn’t anything that could possibly hurt Rogan in the long run, even if it meant hurting him in the short term.

Lucy sat in the living room, staring at the blank screen – much like she’d been doing in all her free time since that day. Hours, upon hours – her eyes were dry, red and she could feel the bags beneath them growing with every passing day.

She’d taken to sleeping in the living room – in thirty minute increments, and each time she awoke, she awoke suddenly – the first thing she looked for was the television screen and each time she was met with nothingness.

The front door opened in the distance and Lucy rushed forward, turning the tape player off and closing the cabinet where she hid it. She flung herself back onto the sofa just as Rogan entered the room, and tossed his jean jacket down on the chair adjacent to where Lucy lay.

“Hey.” Rogan said, quietly, not bothering to look in Lucy’s direction.

Lucy sat up and brushed at her thighs, trying to look as if she’d been doing more than just sitting there all day long, even if she knew Rogan wouldn’t exactly buy it. “Hey. How’d it go tonight?”

Rogan shrugged. “Same. Business is starting to pick up a bit.”

Lucy nodded her head. “We knew it would when spring break rolled around.”

“Yeah.” Rogan finally looked up and across the room at the woman he loved, even if he didn’t fully know who she was nowadays. “How was your day, Lass?”

Lucy let out a sigh as she pulled herself up off the couch and approached Rogan where he stood in the kitchen. “Not bad, really.”

“I’m guessin you still don’t have anything you’d like to tell me about, yeah?” Rogan questioned, his eyes narrowing when they met Lucy’s tired gaze.

Rogan wasn’t stupid. He knew there was something going on. He also knew that what Sebastian had said was right. Lucy would come forward in her own time, no matter how frustrating it was in the meantime. He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait, how much longer he could live with a stranger and convince himself that it was okay.

He didn’t spend eleven years away from her to live like this now.

Even then, he wouldn’t push. He would hint. He would make sure she knew he wasn’t blind, but he wouldn’t push. He knew better.

Lucy shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, I.. I’m sorry, okay? I hate that things are like this between us. I don’t want them to be.”

“Well, I don’t want that either, Lass. But from my point of view, I’ve been here livin with a stranger and I wish I knew where my Lucy went. I want her back.”

The sadness in Rogan’s eyes sunk a dagger into Lucy’s heart as the Dark Man sighed and walked away. Lucy didn’t move, she barely breathed as she heard their bedroom door closing softly in the distance. She took a step towards the hallway, wanting to make things right. Wanting to hold him, love him and forget all of this…

But out the corner of her eye she saw something light up, stopping her in her tracks.

 

HELLO TARGET DEMOGRAPHIC…

 

Mile Two

The race started and it went just about the way Lucy had figured it would. People started trickling into their tent, but since this particular aid station was so early in the race, many people opted to grab a quick cup of water and continue on.

That didn’t leave Lucy with a lot to do.

Some of the other volunteers took their free time and stood out along the road and cheered on the runners. A nice sentiment, to be sure and a welcome one for those who opted to run their legs off in this marathon. Lucy could have stood out there too, showed her support and did exactly what she believed Trent or Wrestley couldn’t.

But instead, she sat on the medical side of the tent, watching the doctor wrap the ankle of an unlucky runner who’d twisted it pretty badly around a mile and a half in. The woman looked completely dejected, in spite of the doctor’s reassuring words. Finally, the doctor sighed and glanced over at Lucy, pointing at her as he continued.

“You can’t let something like this get you down, Cheryl. I’m sure Lucy ‘s been through something similar, right?”

“Um..” Lucy sat up, “I mean yeah. It comes with the job, you know?”

“…You’re a wrestler, right?” Cheryl asked curiously, her gaze turned on Lucy who nodded her head.

“To be fair, that could be said about any job, but yeah, I am.”

The doctor finished wrapping Cheryl’s ankle and patted her leg. “Well, I’m all finished here. I’ll leave you two to it while we wait for the bus to take you over to the finishing area. Take care now.”

As the doctor walked away, an awkward silence settled between the two ladies. Lucy, for one didn’t really know what the doctor expected Lucy to do here, but then again he wasn’t exactly privy to Lucy’s ability to do exactly what Cheryl was trying to do.

“If..If you don’t mind my asking..” Cheryl began quietly, her eyes flickering upwards until they met Lucy’s gaze. “What’s the worst injury you’ve had?”

Lucy chuckled and sat back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jesus, we could be here all day if you want me to answer that question in detail. But I mean.. I don’t know many of my coworkers who haven’t been out with some kind of injury in their careers. But me? I guess the worst would have to be when my trachea got crushed and I wound up in the hospital for… Man, I don’t even remember how long I was in there.”

Cheryl placed a hand up to her mouth and shook her head. “Holy Moly… that sounds really bad.”

“It was. Needed surgery to repair it and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to wrestle again afterwards. It took a while, but I made it.” Lucy then motioned to Cheryl’s ankle. “This ain’t so bad. Sure, it ruins your chances this year, but it shouldn’t keep you from coming back.”

She nodded her head quietly, and before either of them knew it, the bus was there to transport Cheryl to the finishing area. Once Cheryl was gone, Lucy contemplated heading back to the seat she’d been occupying – but instead, she moved towards the front of the tent where all the other volunteers were showing their support for the runners and she clapped awkwardly as they passed.

Cheering was out of the question.

A lot of the runners were happy to see her, at least she assumed as much.

“You’re holding Seb back!” One runner half shouted as he ran past Lucy, and the other volunteers around her turned to see her reaction to his ignorance.

“Tell me something I don’t know!” Lucy shouted back with a chuckle, even if the insinuation embarrassed her deep down. She did just turn 40, and that coupled with her existing insecurities… of course she worries she’s holding Seb back. Lucy realized the people around here were still staring at her and she simply shrugged at them. “What?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and retreated back into the tent.

But when she turned around, a man caught her eye – one not dressed like anyone else around them. A head full of dirty blonde hair laid messily beneath a black, worn out cowboy hat. The man’s blue jeans were full of dirt, as if he’d just walked into the tent straight out of the desert. His black flannel button up shirt, weathered beneath an equally worn duster jacket.

And when a pair of striking blue eyes peered across the tent at Lucy, she shivered at the intensity of his gaze.

“Poke…” Lucy whispered as the man simply tipped his hat at her and strode away, through the bustling crowd and disappeared.

 

A Few Days Before

Lucy couldn’t believe that the tape had come to life once again, and she’d spent the previous night much like every other night before – but it hadn’t shown her anything more.

The next day, Rogan was up and gone before Lucy awoke – and when she did, her first instinct was to check the tape, to no avail. Frustrated, she’d left the house and decided to take a long walk on the beach, hoping that the salty ocean breeze would open her mind and bring her any semblance of clarity on what to do next.

She walked until the bar she’d built for Rogan began showing on the horizon – and the instant she saw it, a voice in her head told her to go. See him…

Go to the Dark Man…

So she did.

Rogan was surprised to see her walk through the door, her hair messy from the wind and her face worn out, so much so that her eyes appeared to be dulled from their usual bright blue. But the Dark Man smiled anyway as she approached the bar, squeezing between the other patrons until she was standing in front of him, the bar being the only thing separating them.

“Fancy seeing you here, Lass.”

Lucy nodded her head and looked around ‘The Waystation’, smiling at the number of people who were there and enjoying themselves. “It’s been a while.. Besides, I missed you.”

That last statement shocked Rogan, although he tried not to show it as he watched Lucy carefully. “Aye. I missed you too, Lassy. Care for a drink?”

“Of course.” Lucy replied, turning her attention back to Rogan as she pulled herself up onto the barstool. A few seconds later, he slid a drink across the bar and into her hand. Before he could pull his hand away, she reached out and grabbed it. “Thank you.”

Rogan nodded his head, set to move on and help other customers but Lucy held firm to his hand until his eyes met hers once again.

“Rogan, I know I’ve been… Not myself lately. I also know ‘I’m sorry’ means jack shit anymore… But I am. I am sorry. You deserve better than I’ve been giving you.”

Rogan couldn’t disagree with her. He looked away as he nodded his head, gently pulling his hand away from hers. “Whatever it is, you know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you, yeah?”

“I know.” Lucy replied softly. “You always do.”

Rogan opened his mouth to say something else, only for a customer down the bar to wave him down. He sighed as Lucy followed his gaze.

“Go. It’s okay, take care of your bar. I’m going to slip out back for a few minutes, okay?”

“Take your time, Lass.”

Rogan stepped off to tend the bar, and Lucy got up and made her way to the back door, stepping out into the makeshift Waystation that she’d put together for Rogan. The area was private and inaccessible for anyone Rogan didn’t want, so Lucy felt safe back there.

She sat down on one of the logs that faced the large fire ring. She closed her eyes, and when she did, all she could see were those same three words she’d seen on the TV screen.

Hello Target Demographic…

“Hello, target demographic…”

Lucy’s eyes flew open when she heard the words, spoken softly, to find a man sitting across from her, a worn black cowboy hat obscuring his face. As startled as she was, there was a familiarity there, as if she knew this man already even though she couldn’t recall him in her memories.

Whatever the feeling, it felt a lifetime ago.

And so she sat, waiting for the man to speak again. Finally, he turned his head and a pair of striking blue eyes caught her gaze, before his soft voice spoke once more.

“Those words are familiar, no?”

Lucy nodded. “They are.”

“The words of the Dark Man. The Engine of Cthulu… The Man in Black. Words not spoken for many a night. The cosmos… are quiet. The Dark Man… rests.” The man pulls in a deep breath and turns his gaze away from Lucy, peering up at the sky, “But quiet isn’t without chaos. Do you understand?”

Lucy couldn’t say she did, but when she opened her mouth to tell the strange man as much, he raised a hand – keeping her silent.

“You are the reason the Engine rests. You are the reason his travels have… ceased. You are the reason my path has halted, for there is no Dark Man for Poke to guide.”

“Rogan said he–”

“I am aware of what the Man in Black has told you, Calamity. I have had no reason to venture out from the Chaos from which he left me… Until now.”

The man didn’t need to say it. Lucy already knew what he meant. “The tape?”

Poke nodded. “I thought it was over once the Empire closed it away, but never did I believe the Dark Lady would find it. And now that she has, she’s the only one who can save the Dark Man.”

Lucy’s eyes widened.

“Save him? From what?”

The man turned to Lucy once again, his gaze sending a chill down Lucy’s spine. “From himself.”

Lucy rose to her feet, the nerves in her body sending prickles all the way down to her toes. It felt as if electricity were coursing through her body. “What are you talking about? Rogan’s in danger?”

“Indeed he is. The video tape you possess, holds great power. Now that you have it, you must destroy what lies within before it destroys that which you love. He will come to you, Dark Lady. He will come.”

“W-When?”

“You will know.” Poke said, before tipping his hat to Lucy and rising to his feet. Without another glance or word, he stepped towards and through the threshold of one of the makeshift tents, and when Lucy followed him and pulled the flap back… He was gone.

 

Wow, I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to do this by myself. 

Aaaaand this is where ya’ll start talking shit about how I’ve been riding the coattails of my partner for so long now that Lucy Wylde might not have what it takes to stand on her own two feet anymore, right?  I mean that’s the least clever thing I could think of off the top of my head, so one of you two must be thinking it, right?

Listen, I don’t have to defend my place in the Empire of Calamity to any of you. 

End of discussion. 

Now, onto the matter at hand.  The way I see it, this week it’s Lucy Wylde Vs. Trent Steel… Featuring Wrestley McWrestleface.  You don’t put two names like mine and Trent’s across from each other and decide that that much emo starpower isn’t enough, you know?  Have you seen us, Phrixus?  For fucks sake.  Do you even know the history?

Well, let me back up for a moment here.  You probably don’t.  

Probably a good thing, but let me let you in on a little secret.  Trent doesn’t like me very much, do you Trent?  We go back quite a long time, don’t we bud?  You hated me before you even knew I was the one beneath that Jenova mask.  Now if that isn’t a callback, I don’t know what is.  But since I don’t have all the time in the world to tell the full story, besides, it’s not really my story to tell… Let’s just say that eventually Trent and I agreed to an uneasy treaty of sorts. 

And then I went and ended my relationship with Trent’s best friend.  The only thing that was keeping him from ripping my head off and shitting down my neck.  At least that’s been my assumption.  But I get it, I did something terrible to someone he cares about.  If I were in his spot, I’d do the same thing. 

So I guess I’m saying, whatever you’re gonna say about me Trent… I deserve it.  I’m not gonna pussyfoot around it and try to tell you that I’m not a shit person even if Joe and myself are on good terms now.  I know that doesn’t mean a damn thing to you.  All that matters is what you see.  All that matters is how you feel about the shit I’ve done and what you think you’re gonna do about it.  That’s fine.  I can take it. 

I always have, contrary to what you believe. 

You’re gonna come in, guns a blazing and I’d be surprised if you don’t try to end my career out there tonight.  You do you, hun.  Just know that there’s more to the world than your narrow little view of it.  I don’t say this to piss you off further, even though that really isn’t difficult to do.  I say it because I do respect you, regardless of our history.  You’re a world class asshole, but there’s also a reason why Joe looks at you in such a high regard.  

I might not see it, but he does.  

And in some fucked up way, that’s enough.  So come on, you crazy motherfucker.  Let’s see what you got. The clocks a ticking and I’m sure you’ve got yourself bigger fish to fry… Right?  Yeah, I haven’t forgotten what you did the other week when I had another chance at the Conquest title.  You might have been going for Larry, but fucking me over was the icing on the cake, right?

I’m not an idiot. 

Let’s see how things go for you when you’re not blindsiding me, huh? 

Oh, and Wrestley?  Should I be saying ‘welcome back’?  Or should I be apologizing for the shitfest you’ve gotten yourself into, courtesy of our illustrious creative director.  Or… Third option, should I invite you to prove to me why what I said just a few minutes ago is wrong?  You’re not just a side character, are you?  You’re the real fucking deal and how dare I treat you like you don’t matter! 

I impore you, surprise me.  Make me eat my words.  Make me second guess my place here in this business.  

You might be the next coming of wrestling Jesus, I don’t know.  I guess my point is…  respect me, spit on my name… I don’t care anymore.  Whatever your opinion is about me… It’s just that.  An opinion.  Just do me the favor of backing up whatever shit you spew.  

And most importantly?  Help me remember your name for the next time, because knowing good old Phrixus… there will be a next time. 

See you out there.