We carry these things inside us,
that no one else can see.
They hold us down like anchors,
they drown us out at sea.

…

First things first… What a fucking fight.

Yeah, I’m talking about you, Sarah.. you little Bitch. You threw everything you had at me, including the chain that held us together and it still wasn’t enough to win that elusive first championship. You’ll get there someday, Sweetie. It might even be sooner than you think, but it was never going to be me.

You’re talented. You’re stronger than people give you credit for, BUT… you still have a long way to go. Especially after that little temper tantrum you threw afterwards.

Granted, I don’t remember what happened, I still don’t. But I did finally see a replay, and I do have to say one thing, Sarah…

Red is DEFINITELY your color.

But Green is right up there too.

I just never took you for a jealous person, but I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong.

I mean, you did put up a hell of a fight… It’s just…

I don’t want to offend you when I say this…

But the Cross-Hemisphere Championship doesn’t suit you, at all. Which was made obvious by the glorious way in which you lost to me, even though I was half dead by the end of our match.

Half dead, but still more of a champion than you’ll ever be.

I’m fine, by the way. I took my little ‘tumble’ off of the stage in stride, sweets. You wanted to hurt me, and you did… but in reality you just showed your true colors. You showed me, and everyone else what kind of loser you really are, and personally I can’t wait to face team Red Queen at Outlast and beat your ever-loving ass again.

But before we can get down to all of that fun shit…

I have another title defense to prepare for, courtesy of ‘The Court’.

Thanks for that, by the way.

 

Date August 22nd 2017 / Time 7:17AM / Status Not Recording
Location Spring Valley Hospital Medical Center – Las Vegas, Nevada

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

What in the…

Beep.

I open my eyes as the beeping continues, and I’m surprised to see the sterile, white walls of a hospital room around me. What an empty fucking place. Other than the incessant beeping just above my head, I can hear muffled voices out in the hall, and what I can only imagine is the beeping of hundreds of other annoying little machines.

I lift my aching head from the pillow to look around the room, just bright enough that I can see the outlines of a small sofa and an uncomfortable looking chair. Empty as well. Finally, I shift my gaze up to the machine that’s tracking my heartbeat.

Well shit, looks like I’m alive.

Shocker.

A few seconds of watching that thin line bouncing up and down is quite enough, and I lay my head back.

How in the fuck did I get here?

It’s pretty frustrating to wake up time after time, not remembering what happened to get me into the position that I’m in. There is one constant though…

Sarah Selena Lacklan.

The little Bitch.

…

I won.

I remember a match from hell. Literally. I remember getting hit in the face with that chain, and I remember that hurting like a BITCH. I remember getting my ass handed to me, I remember the fire in her eyes… I don’t think that’s something I will ever forget.

I remember hitting her with that final Wylde Liberation.

I remember falling on top of her and listening to the referee count that one, two, three. I remember thinking that she was going to kick out at any point, but most of all I remember the relief washing over me as I pulled myself off of her and fell to the mat.

I won.

She gave me her all, and I still–

“Miss Wylde?”

I look up at the door to see a small woman standing there, of course if the room were brighter, I could probably see anything other than the fact that she’s a woman. I turn away, not really interested in answering as I sit up.

“Good. You’re awake.”

She says as she moves into the room and turns the lights on. My hands immediately move up to my eyes, shielding them as the once dull ache in my head turned into full on war zone inside my brain.

“And what if I wouldn’t have been?”

I glance over to see her smirking.

“You wouldn’t have noticed, trust me. I’ve been in here at least seven other times on my shift… and you were out like a light.”

I raise my eyebrows and a sharp pain shoots through my left eyebrow.

“Ow.. fuck.”

She doesn’t bat an eyelid as she adjusts the sheets over my body, and lays down a tray of food on the table beside my bed. It’s just now that I look down and realize that I’m basically naked.

“Jesus, where is my wrestling gear… my cham–”

She clears her throat and points to the opposite side of the room. I pull my hands down and glance in the direction she’s pointing. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that my gear is laying in a crumpled heap with my Cross-Hemisphere Championship laying across the top.

Thank God.

“Thank God you didn’t cut it off of me…”

“We almost had to…”

“I just bought it.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Your life is more important than a few pieces of clothing, Miss Wylde.”

“Well, you don’t know how much they–”

It’s then I stop and really think about her words.

“Wait.. my life? My life was in danger?”

She stops dead as she’s fixing the sheets of the bed and gives me a look before abruptly turning and leaving the room. A few seconds later she returns with a man in a white coat. Old man. Salt and pepper hair, and the ugliest glasses I’ve ever seen on another human being. Must be the doctor.

Lovely.

He doesn’t waste time with introductions as he crosses the room and points a little flashlight in my eyes.

“Hey, Jesus.. My eyes hurt like–”

“They checked her when she came in, Doctor. There was mild trauma to the orbital bone, but no fracture. She was unconscious at time of admittance.”

The light is bothering my eyes, not to mention the pounding on the side of my face and inside of my head. What a dickhead.

“Can you just tell me why you said my life was in danger?”

“You don’t remember what happened to you, Miss Wylde?”

Is it their job to be idiots, or do they just add that in on top of the monumental money they make each year? I glare up into his eyes, willing myself not to rip that flashlight from his smarmy hand and throw it out the God damned window.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I remembered.”

“You maybe concussed, Miss Wylde.”

He finally pulls the light away from my eyes and brings himself to a vertical base again.

“And judging by the way you look right now, you’d be lucky to get away with just a concussion.”

And what in the fuck does that mean?

“Hey… Wh–”

Before I can ask him just that, he turns and says a few things to the nurse – things that apparently I’m not privileged enough to hear. I turn to look out the window, realizing that the curtains are still drawn.

How do people just sit in here all day?

I turn back to find the nurse standing beside the bed, writing something on my chart.

“So, what happened to me?”

“Honey, you were pretty banged up when they brought you in last night. Said you came from that wrestling show over there at the arena.”

She points out the window and I nod my head.

“Yeah, yeah.. I did.”

“Did they run you over with a car or somethin? I didn’t think wrestling was supposed to be like… that.”

I close my eyes and lay my head back on the pillow.

“I sure as hell feel like it. I honestly don’t remember.”

She nods her head.

“Like Doctor Ashwell said, you might be concussed. Slight memory loss is a symptom. The doctor would like you to stay here for a day or two for observation.”

A day or two?

“I can’t stay in here for two days… I have to get the hell out of here.”

I begin shaking my head as I sit up on the bed, running my hand over the side of my face. Jesus that hurts. I run my fingers over something jagged on my nose, and instantly all the alarms in my brain go off.

“Please don’t touch those maam.”

“What the–”

“Please don’t touch the stitches maam.”

I pull my hand away, and look down at it shaking.

“Can I see…”

I hear a drawer opening, and within seconds I have a mirror in my hands. I don’t waste any time in bringing it up to my face and when I do I nearly drop it.

“Oh my God…”

I bring my free hand up to the side of my face yet again, tracing the line of the vicious bruising that’s taken over the entire left side of my face. My blue eye pops out brilliantly from beneath the swelling and the deep purple and black hues of my skin. And my nose… Jesus, Mary and Joseph…

“Holy fuck…”

I look around the mirror and see her staring at me with her arms crossed. I’m not sure why, but an uneasy feeling settles in my gut as I turn my attention back to my battered face.

“Does anyone know what happened? Did anyone watch the show last night?”

I look back to her expectantly.

“I don’t know. I can go check with my staff…”

I nod my head vigorously.

“Please…”

She turns to leave the room, and I sit there for what feels like forever hoping that she finds someone who can at least give me some clue as to what happened.

“Oh my Gosh… It is you!”

I look up and I see a young man standing in the doorway, looking like he’s just won the lottery or something.

“Can I help you?”

He nods and moves into the room, pulling the chair away from the window and bringing it and himself over to sit next to my bed.

“Wanda was wondering if anyone saw In Your Hands last night, said you wanted to talk to someone about it. I was there.”

I sit up in the bed, instantly not as annoyed as I once was with this guy as I originally was.

“You were there?”

“Damn skippy I was. What a show. Saw your little Boy toy beat Zane… That was fucking amazing… Ooops. Excuse my french.”

So Gabriel won. Good to hear.

“What about my match?”

“Ohhhh girl… Wait, you…”

“I don’t remember what happened after the match ended, so if you’d kindly tell me what the fuck happened, I’d be really grateful.”

I don’t think his smile could grow any bigger at this point. Apparently I have a fan… I think.

“Oh my goodness.. I was convinced she was going to kick out after that last liberation, but when she didn’t.. I was FLOORED! Anyway, you looked pretty out of it when they put you on the stretcher… but you put your thumbs up as they wheeled you away, so we all thought you were okay…”

He stops and I can tell that something is troubling him.

“Okay.. and?”

“Well.. You see, they got you to the top of the stage and that’s when… That’s when she came out of no where and…”

Fucking Lacklan.

“And what?”

He runs his hands over his head and grimaces.

“And she knocked you out again, punching the absolute hell out of ya. You couldn’t do anything, you were strapped down to that stretcher. She wheeled you over to the edge of the stage and…”

My eyes widen.

“She pushed me off.”

He nods his head.

“Tell me…”

I look up, trying not to show the pain, or the fear that I’m feeling. But now, now that I know what happened… I only have one more question…

And this one is far more troubling… and I fear this answer much, much more than I feared knowing what happened to me.

“Did CJ or Gabriel come–”

“No.”

 

Date August 25th 2017 / Time 2:56PM / Status Not Recording
Location The Wylde Residence – Western Maryland

I don’t even want to be here right now.

Hell, I don’t even know why I came back here to begin with.

It’s a hell of a feeling to be laying in a hospital bed knowing that I got thrown off of an eight foot stage while strapped down to a stretcher and no one.. At least not anyone who mattered to me even bothered to come down and try to help me.

Not my husband.

Not my friend.

No one.

It puts a real sour feeling in my stomach, especially after what had happened earlier the night. He embarrassed me. Sure, I’ve done a lot of this to myself… By what? Being Gabriel’s friend?

I’ve already blown up on Gabriel today, I’ve already put that friendship into peril. But then again, wasn’t it basically on thin ice when he didn’t…

“Fuck”

All of this has blown up in my face, and it’s not CJ’s fault. It’s not Gabriel’s fault. It’s mine. But it still hurts. It still makes me angry. It pisses me the fuck off that neither.. NEITHER of them cared enough to even try.

Try.

Just fucking try. I don’t think that was too much to ask.

Obviously though… It was.

It was for either of them.

“Luce.”

His voice startles me, and I turn – expecting to see him but he’s not there. I turn upwards and towards the steps to see CJ coming down at me from the upper floor. He doesn’t look like he’s left the house in days. He’s in his ‘lounge’ clothes, and I do say it must be nice to be able to lounge around all day while his wife is in the hospital.

I should still be there but I pulled a ‘CJ Wylde’ and I left against doctors orders.

For some reason I wanted to come back here. Maybe it is to find out why in the fuck he wasn’t there when I needed him. Maybe it’s to find out why he felt the need to humiliate me in front of Gabriel.. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s neither. All I know is that I’m here, and I don’t know what I want anymore.

“Oh, there you are.”

I reply, flatly as my blood begins to boil within my body. I can feel his eyes on me. Gazing at every bruise; trouncing through every imperfection like a scanner, filing these afflictions away, imprinting them in his digital memory. And as he gets closer, the lesser he makes me feel.

It’s not that he wouldn’t have suffered a similar fate at the hands of Sarah Lacklan. Maybe he would have. That’s not for me to say. However, it’s the way his auburn eyes pierce me that tell me the truth that his lips are too terrified to speak on their own.

He doesn’t think much of me. My talent. My success. My apparent ease of relationships outside of this reclusive house in the middle of god-only-knows-where Maryland.

He’s jealous of me.

That’s why he couldn’t be there.

And I hate him for it.

He takes a step towards me and I turn my head away. I feel his fingertips brush up against my neck. He’s surveying the damage, as if he ever cared. With pursed lips he pretends that he’s got a reason for not being there after my match at In Your Hands. The furrow between his eyebrows failing to cozen me into belief that there’s a valid reason for not visiting me in the hospital afterward.

He reaches out and touches one of the many bruises; the one around my eye.

The sting draws my hand up from my side and I slap his hand away from my face, the sound reverberating through the foyer.

“You didn’t give a fuck about me-”

I scream.

“How dare you just sit around here like some fat, lazy asshole and even bother to pretend that you care about this!”

I step backwards, nearly tripping over my own feet as I do.

“You don’t care, or you would have BEEN THERE! You’d of fucking tried to do something… ANYTHING.”

My heart is beating out of my chest as it heaves.

“Don’t you have SOMETHING… ANYTHING TO SAY?!”

“…was Gabriel there?”

Those three words. Those three words are the three words that I’ve grown so tired of hearing over these last few months.

“What in the hell does it matter if HE was there?! NO he wasn’t, CJ. No one was.”

“Oh.”

He says with a sigh and a pause long enough to make my anger even worse. What comes out of his mouth next had better be a damn good apology.

“I would have been there if I had known your new partner wasn’t gonna show. I thought he really cared about you… you know… as much as you care about him.”

I don’t know what I feel more right now, anger or disappointment.

“What does that have to do with this?! So you’d of let me fucking die because you didn’t want to step on his toes? You’re my fucking husband!”

“Since when did that fact matter to you?”

My jaw drops as he looks down into my eyes. He’s right.

Since when did that matter to me? Especially when I was practically begging Gabriel to…

“Now I–”

He interrupts me, his face irritatingly calm as he speaks.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is more of my fault than I’m willing to admit. Maybe the whole thing is on my shoulders right now and I simply can’t see it because I’m just too stupid. Maybe it goes back to losing to Eden; maybe further than that. Maybe this whole UGWC deal with signing there was all just one big fucking mistake – but that’s okay because I see it now – I really do. And quite honestly, I don’t blame you anymore… not that I ever did… but still. The one thing you’ve needed me to do in all of this is apparently the one thing that I can’t do. Hmm? That’s man up. Isn’t it?”

His question catches me off guard.

“I–”

“And no, the sad part isn’t that you’ve needed to go elsewhere to find a man. The sad part is that Gabriel Baal is the best that you had around you. Because I’m sorry hon, but if you honestly think for one second that Baal is an upgrade in the ‘taking responsibility for himself’ department, then perhaps you landed a bit too hard on your head and you should still be back in that hospital bed.”

“He–”

He turns away from me and begins pacing around in the foyer, totally ignorant to the fact that I’m trying to speak.

“You know what? What I should have done was take care of this months ago. I shouldn’t have sued UGWC for putting my medical history out there for everyone to see. I should have walked into that fucking office, found the person responsible, and put them down.”

“You honestly think that’s going to fix anything? Saying what you should have done?”

He stops and looks back at me, his face still calm. He sighs and continues, pointing at me and then back at himself.

“And all of this? All of these problems. This… this, this… this ‘Gabriel Baal’ thing… I should have put him down, too. But I didn’t. Why? Because I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to have this ‘friendship’… heh… if you still want to even call it that. I thought for sure that if I took a step back and gave you the space that you needed that you would come back to me eventually. But I guess that was my biggest mistake… I really thought wrong.”

I clamp my teeth down hard on my lip, trying desperately not to say anything. He’s damn right he thought wrong. Giving me space. What a load of shit. Being totally uninterested in me and my career is more like it.

“The more space I’ve given you, the further you’ve drifted away. It’s like I barely even know you anymore, Lucy. Oh, and by the way, thanks for the wake-up slap. I’ve needed that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll just go back to being a fat, lazy piece of shit. That or I’ll go contemplate burning the Unified Global Wrestling Coalition to the ground… whichever comes first.”

He stares into my eyes for another few seconds, and like we never even mattered – he just turns and walks off. I bring myself down on the steps, needing to sit down before I altogether pass out. The anger, it coarses through my veins like a raging river. It ebbs and flows like the ocean, the anger at its peak when the waves crash along the shoreline… and the sadness at its peak when the water recedes.

I can’t believe he just said that.

I can’t believe he doesn’t feel anything about this… about me.

About us.

I can’t believe I expected him to. He’s been an absentee partner in this marriage lately… But I still guess I hoped that he would apologize or something. Something being… actually wanting to be there regardless of the lawsuit, regardless of my friends… regardless of anything except the fact that he’s always been my partner… always been my guide…

Until now.

 

Date September 1st 2017 / Time 8:31PM / Status Not Recording
Location Joe’s Pizza – New York City’s Time Square

The first thing that catches my eye as I walk into this obscenely busy pizza place is the old brick wall, flanked by a pristine white brick counter that allows the patrons to see back into the kitchen where they presumably make the best New York style pizza around.

I’ll be the judge of that.

It’s a beautiful mesh-mash of old and new and for some reason, it really resonates with me in this moment.

New York is a beautiful place. It’s majestic. It’s almost magical in its allure. Its got elements of old, new, and everything in between that makes people like me have to stop and take in its beauty and elegance.

I’ve traveled the world. I’ve seen cities that many believe to be far greater, and much grander than New York… But I’ve never stopped in any of them long enough to really take in the atmosphere of the place, the people… the way of life. Being here, taking time and not worrying about the next show, or the next match long enough to actually experience a different place.. Somewhere that’s not in the middle of bum-fuck Maryland.

Somewhere where I’m not closed away from the rest of the world.

It’s nice.

I tuck my loosely curled hair behind my ear as I finally pull my gaze away from the wall, and the architecture of the building and look around at it’s inhabitants. People enjoying themselves, people out on dates, laughing, eating.. just enjoying their lives. Suddenly I look down at myself, clad in a pair of black dress pants and a white button down shirt and I feel a bit out of place. I wanted to look nice tonight. I didn’t want to look like a twenty cent hooker who came in here for a quick bite between blow jobs… I wanted to look like how I look matters to me.

Even though it doesn’t always.

My eyes finally settle on a man, seated alone near the front window of the restaurant – staring straight at me. He’s dressed in jeans; which I do have to say is a much welcomed change for him. He looks good. He looks good.

As he should, honestly. He and Eden on their little ‘mini vacay’ for the last… God knows how long. Am I jealous? Maybe a little. Am I envious? Hell yeah.

Must be nice.

His eyes maintain contact with me, even if he’s not looking into my eyes as I approach the table. He stands when I’m within speaking distance, a small smirk plastered on his face as he scans me from head to toe once again, stopping only to examine the now fading bruises on my face.

“Hello, my dear.”

Instantly I feel absolutely uncomfortable, regardless of his welcoming smile and his rugged good looks. So much has fallen apart lately, I guess I’m expecting this little meeting to go to shit too.

I push those feelings aside though, and smile softly at him.

“Hi.”

“I’m glad you could make it.”

He replies, offering me the chair opposite of him.

“Can I get you a drink?”

I pull the chair out and sit; smoothing my hands over the material of my pants.

“I’m almost certain this place doesn’t serve the hard stuff, so I’ll just have a water.”

I look up into his eyes, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

“Thank you.”

Truth is, I’d rather have an entire bottle of whiskey in my hands than water. I’d rather drink myself into oblivion instead of thinking about the last week, or about what happened after I got home last week.

I’d rather think about anything other than one of these two men right now.

His laugh jolts me from my thoughts as he leans into the table with a grin.

“They’d probably surprise you. But that’s fine.”

He turns his head away, and I follow his eyes upwards to the waiter. He asks the waiter for another glass, considering there’s already a pitcher of water on the table. I’m surprised I didn’t see it before.

“How are you feeling?”

He asks as the waiter walks away, his lips upturned into a smile. I wish I would have better news for him, but alas.. I turn my attention towards the window for a few moments as I speak up.

“Like shit, if I’m being honest.”

I bring my attention back to him, a small smirk on my face.

“But at least I don’t look like Frankensteins monster anymore.”

I reach up and touch my eye, and my brain almost instantly returns to CJ touching that very same spot. God damnit.

He raises his eyebrows slightly; his chin resting on his clenched hands.

“I’m glad you’re almost back to your old self.”

He pauses for a few seconds.

“Now.. I see no point in beating around the bush. We both know why we’re here.”

I feel like a child that’s being scolded, for no other reason than I know I fucked up when I called him out in public the other day. I absolutely know why I’m here, and I’m not happy with what happened. I found myself angry and without a way of releasing that anger.. So I took it out on him.

I didn’t think much about, I thought I was totally justified in my emotions… until he clapped back…. hard.

Then my anger became desperation. Desperation to not lose one of the only friends I have. He was right about me, I don’t have many friends. I don’t get out of Maryland enough to really have relationships.. but that’s going to change.

I nod my head and bring my eyes down to the table in front of me.

“Yeah… About that. I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“Water under the bridge, my dear.”

He replies right away, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“I think you were wondering where I was when you were falling victim to your attack.”

He adds after a brief pause. I nod my head again.

“You weren’t the only one I was wondering about.”

I reply softly, my lips turning downward into a frown. It’s funny how people tell you they care about you, and then when you need them.. they’re no where to be found. I sigh and look back up into his eyes once more, turning that frown upside down.

Hopefully he doesn’t notice the fakeness of this particular smile.

“I mean, I was… after a hospital employee filled me in on what exactly happened…”

There’s nothing quite like not knowing what happened to you, finding out and then realizing that no one had come to your aid.. It’s an empty feeling, for sure.

“I’m sorry, my dear.”

He says, shaking his head.

“I was all too wrapped up in my own situation.”

He reaches his hand out, running his thumb over the top of his glass.

“I am sorry.”

My heart about jumps out of my chest as he apologizes, not once… but twice in the span of literally two minutes. That’s all I wanted from CJ and he couldn’t give it to me. Yet again though, here’s Gabriel… doing exactly what I need.

“I.. uh.. It’s okay.”

I respond, trying hard not to stumble too badly over my words as I watch his facial expressions from across the table. He actually looks regretful.

“I survived.”

I add after the fact, trying to reassure him. It’s not like I died after all…

At least not physically.

“It was very sudden. I think I’m starting to slip. Once upon a time, I’d have noticed that coming a mile away.”

He replied, somewhat wistfully.

“Unfortunately, I’d have probably reveled in knowing it was coming too. These days, I’m not so sure.”

He looks away for a split second, before snapping back to – his eyes meeting mine once again.

“I told you a long time ago, my dear. I’m not a good man.”

I’m not quite sure how to respond to that. I mean, really… are any of us ‘good people’? Are any of us truly and completely ‘good’?

“And I’m not a good woman either, Gabriel.”

I sigh again, bringing my hands onto the table – my right digit fiddling with my now empty ring finger on my left hand.  Proof that I’m not a good woman.  Proof that I’m actually a pretty shitty human being… at least in the eyes of a few people.

“Hell, it was stupid of me to expect it, you know? I know better than that. We’re all here to do a job, and I know full well that you’ve gotta look out for you.”

I don’t turn my attention away from my hands right away, instead I run my fingertips over the indent that my wedding and engagement rings left behind. Years and years.. gone to waste. That’s all that indent is, in my eyes right now.

I look back up as he leans back in his chair, glancing out into the sea of humanity that’s flooding past where we’re sitting.

“It was.”

My eyebrows raise and I open my mouth to speak up, but he continues – giving me no chance of retort.

“It is… more complicated than that.”

He taps his fingers rhythmically on the table top.

“But it should have been simpler.”

“A lot of things should be.. but it never ends up that way.”

I say, looking at the side of his face.. taking in the little details, the lift in his eyelashes, the hue of his eye… the curves of his lips…

“I never meant to get between you and CJ.”

He finally said.

“And what happened with him at the arena…”

Again, I can feel my cheeks burning at the mention of CJ… and what happened at In Your Hands.

“No.”

I reply, my face contorting as the feelings of anger and disgust begin to surface further.

“You didn’t get between us. If anything, you helped me figure out exactly who he really is.”

It’s true.

CJ can say whatever he wants, but I now know who he really is… and I don’t like it. I don’t like being married to it. He thinks he doesn’t know me anymore, well… I don’t know him either.

“Not sure he sees it that way.”

“I don’t really give a fuck how he sees it. He wasn’t there when I needed him. It’s obvious he didn’t care anyway.”

“Lucy… He’s your husband.

Says Gabriel as he smiles at the waiter, who brings the second glass to the table.

“That’s not what it felt like when I left the other day…”

I reply; letting that statement settle in between us as I smile up at the waiter, taking the glass and pouring myself some water as Gabriel scratches at his jaw.

“What do you want, Lucy?”

“What do I want?”

I repeat his question as I bring the glass to my mouth, taking a sip of the cool, crisp water.

What do I want?

That’s a really, really good question. A question that my so-called husband hasn’t cared to ask at all.

“I want to be appreciated. I want to be wanted… I want to live again.”

I want to live my life. I don’t want to be a stow-away anymore. I don’t want to be a shut in. I want to be around people who want to have relationships, who want to have interactions… It’s not hard.

At least it’s not as hard as I’ve made it out to be for so long.

“Then tell him.”

His voice again draws me away from my inner dialogue. I look up at his smiling face.

“Tell him what you want and what you need.”

He signals to the waiter that we need a moment to think about our order.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Lucy Wylde and your husband is lucky to have you.  So make him fucking remember it.”

He grins at me but I don’t return it, I just look back down into my glass of water. Jesus I wish I had a shot of something, anything right now.

Tell him. Yeah. What good that would do. Been there, done that. Didn’t even get the T-shirt for my troubles. Besides, if I were so beautiful and desirable… I wouldn’t have to say a damned word. None of this would have happened anyway.

I wouldn’t be here right now and I wouldn’t be thinking about another man…

“I’ve told him. I’ve said it in every way I could think of. And what did I get in response?”

I ask, holding my hands up and making air quotes.

“…’Oh‘. That’s what I fucking got. ‘Oh… I guess I thought wrong, Lucy. I gave you space, and well… Oops?‘”

I say, imitating CJ’s voice. I put my hands back down on the table with a soft thud.

“Does that sound like someone who cares? It doesn’t to me.”

I say that last part with a mumble, my eyes shifting back and forth.

“Stubborn as a mule. The pair of you.”

He says as I look up to see him shaking his head. I shrug my shoulders in response, taking another opportunity to look outside at the people moving about.

Me? Stubborn?

I can’t help but to smile as I bring my eyes back to his.

“I used to think that was one of my more…. positive qualities.”

He shakes his head, not bothering to answer me. He averts his eyes down at the menu in front of him, leaving me with an awkward silence.

So, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say… I don’t know.

No, being stubborn isn’t exactly the best trait.

I close my eyes and grimace. I’m being stubborn about being stubborn. Maybe he’s onto something with this. But it doesn’t make me want to go home and fall right into CJ’s arms and apologize for being such a hard headed bitch. It doesn’t make me want to tell him what I need…again.

Finally I look up and clear my throat.

“Okay, come on… I was kidding.”

Silence.

Fuck. I fucked up again.

“I’m not so sure, my dear…”

I hear his voice just as I turn my eyes downward at the table again. I look up to find him smiling again.

“Shall we order?”

I sigh again and settle back into the chair.

“That might be a good idea…”

I reply sarcastically, grinning playfully. I really don’t like arguing with him and I really don’t want him to think less of me… even though he wouldn’t be the first man that I care about to think less of me.

The more I look at him though, the more I can feel my heart racing in my chest. I can feel every beat moving through my arteries and my veins. I can almost hear the blood surging through my body, and it makes me relax.

“So.. Holden and Jason.”

He says, his smile softening into a grin.

“Interesting defense.”

I scoff and shrug my shoulders. Interesting is right. I gotta applaud Mister Baal here for a nice shift of subject matter.

“I agree. Two weeks removed from an eight foot fall through a couple of tables. Something makes me think they wanna test my toughness…”

I reply, my voice fading out at the end. Two title defenses in a row, very interesting decisions all around. I don’t see anyone else defending shit right after the pay per view. I don’t see anyone else forced to go back there after something like what happened at In Your Hands. But that’s fine.

Perfectly Fine.

“Can’t expect them to be found wanting, my dear. You’re tougher than most I’ve met.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise and tuck a rogue hair behind my ear.

“Why thank you, that’s very kind. People have always told me that my sister was the toughest of the two of us. I’m glad someone finally sees the truth.”

Sorry Kyra.

She’s one tough bitch.. there’s no doubt about that. But she’s made a living off of doing shit just like what happened to me at the hands of Lacklan. It’s no real surprise to see Kyra Mohr falling from a skyscraper through a pile of burning railway spikes and watch her get up… full of holes and bleeding from every inch of her flesh, just to keep fighting.

I’ve never been that type of fighter. Ever. So, in my mind…

“They’re all idiots.”

He adds before I can finish my thought. They are all idiots too. A lot of people don’t realize how much it takes to do what we do, whether it be in a hardcore setting, or not.

I laugh out loud, eyeing him up for a few seconds. That’s honestly the first time I’ve laughed in a while. Everything’s been so serious, everything has been falling apart around me. It’s nice to feel comfortable again.

“I couldn’t agree more, Love.”

The waiter approaches again, and Gabriel looks to me questioningly.

“Would you like to share? Or are you happier going solo these days?”

He asks with a knowing smile.

“Share with you? I’d be honored.”

I say, glancing down at the menu.

“Besides… there are only a few things that are worth going… solo for.”

“Let me guess…”

He puts on a thinking face. The way his nose scrunches up… Jesus.

Stop it Lucy.

“Ice cream.”

“I don’t know… I might share my ice cream with you. If you meet the criteria.”

“Like what?”

He says as the waiter stands over us. He points to a pizza on the menu, not wanting to interrupt our conversation.

“Well for starters…”

I lean in towards him, my face growing serious. I wait until the waiter is out of range again, and I lean in further.

“Are you a spoon hog?”

Gabriel lets out a burst of laughter, startling me a little bit as I sit back in my chair with a big smile on my face. It startles me even more when he bangs his hand against the table as he laughs. I’ve never seen this side of him before. A small chuckle here, a little giggle there… but never a full out laugh.

I like it.

“Are we alright?”

He asks. I chuckle as I think about his question. It’s a little out of place, at least in my mind – considering that we were just laughing and having a good time. I thought things were okay…

“I don’t know, love… are we?”

“You were mad with me… Remember?”

Of course I remember.

“Mmmhm.”

I reply, my lips pursed and my eyebrows raised.

“I like you Gabriel. I enjoy your company. Yeah, I was upset. But wasn’t the purpose of this little get together to get past that?”

“Which is why I asked.. Are we okay?”

Silence settles between us again, and we just sit there, staring into one anothers eyes. I reach out and touch his hand gently, my fingertips sliding along the soft skin of his hand.

“Yes.”

And out of the seriousness of the last minute or so comes another smile to his face.

“In that case then, let’s eat.”

 

Date September 3rd 2017 / Time 5:28PM / Status Not Recording
Location Richard’s Bar – Chicago, Illinois

It’s hard as fuck to keeps oneself from overdoing it, especially when you really, really want to. Like me, for instance… sitting here in this dingy old bar with two shot glasses in front of me.

Two.

Only two.

I’ve only been here for twenty minutes and Eden is only a few minutes late but that’s enough to make me want to have like forty more of the same.

Do I think she’ll show up?

I’m honestly not sure at this point.

Is it weird to think that I’m about to have ‘girl time’ with my former nemesis?

Very. Very fucking weird.

I motion to the bartender for another shot and I grin devilishly as the old guy moves over and pours me another tiny glass of pain queller. I grab the glass and dump the shot of whiskey down my throat as quickly as he pours it.

I close my eyes and bask in the burning as the liquid moves down my esophagus. God damn that’s some good shit.

I don’t even know where I found this place, but I like the feel of it. And yeah, I’m the only ‘young’ woman in here right now, surrounded by droves of older men laughing and smoking and staring me down.

“I’m more of a vodka girl, myself.”

It’s like my body is pre-programmed to tense up at the sound of her voice. I look around me at the other patrons of the bar, and I see them staring now at the brunette bombshell that’s standing just behind me. Fine by me. They were starting to creep me out anyway.

I turn around on the bar stool and greet Eden with a pleasant enough smile and motion towards the bar stool next to me.

“Lucky for you, they have that here too.”

I motion for the bartender to come over.

“Another for me, and Vodka for the lady.”

I chuckle at myself, watching him walk away. I’ve got a bit of a buzz going, but there’s definitely room for improvement. I glance sideways at Eden, who’s fiddling with her hands. She doesn’t say anything until the bar keep comes back with her own pain stopper.

Hell, I don’t blame her.

I watch her shoot that gross shit, emptying that glass in a matter of seconds. A girl after my own heart. Nice. I wait until she places the glass back onto the bar with a dull thud before I speak up.

“You look to be doing about as good as me right now.”

“That depends, how are you doing?”

I down my own shot and add it to my ever growing collection. Four. Four shots down and still no relief in sight. But that’s what more is for. Right?

“You tell me.”

I point at the shot glasses and sigh as the bartender comes and refills both of our glasses.

“Looks like I need to catch up..”

The bartender pulls the bottle away, but before he can, she stops him – grabbing the bottle from his hand and sitting it down beside her.  I can’t help but to chuckle.  She does need to catch up after all.

(To be Continued…)

 

The court has selected not one, but two opponents for me tomorrow night. Oh goody. It seems, that these jackasses are trying to catch me with my pants down, so to speak… considering I’ve just come off of a title defense, and a subsequent hospital stay because of Sarah’s lack graciousness after losing.

But I digress.

Trying to catch me when I’m not at my best, huh? Wanting to get this belt off of me and into the hands of someone more… someone more what, exactly?

Someone more talented?

Nah.

Someone more… pretty?

Possibly.

I mean Ingalls is a real pretty man, if I do say so myself. No offense, Holden… you’re pretty too. Just not in my kind of way.

Could they be wanting someone more… Deserving?

Can’t be.

Because in the immortal words of William Munny, ‘Deserve ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.‘

If we all got what we ‘deserved’… we’d all have nothing. This world doesn’t owe us anything, as Killian so bluntly put it to me the other day… and as much as it pains me to agree with him… I do. We aren’t owed a damn thing in this life, so everything we have, we should be grateful for.

Right?

I am the UGWC Cross-Hemisphere champion two times over. I’m damn proud of that fact, and I damn sure am going to continue defending this belt because it means something to me. I earned it. I worked hard for it, just like everyone else that’s held this belt in the past. My present company included…

Well, half of my present company. Although holding the Coop Championships with B-Pac is nothing to scoff at, Jason. It’s just… It’s not the Cross-Hemisphere championship. It’s not a singles title. Sharing is all well and good, for a while anyway…

But eventually you want to make it on your own, you want to hold something that no one else can say they helped you win. I get it, I really do and I honestly do wish you the best of luck tomorrow, Jason.

And you too, Holden…

But neither of you are walking out with my belt, I’m sorry to say. Maybe you’d have better luck with Travis. Start small, that’s what I always say. Don’t wanna bite off more than you can chew right out of the gates.

Anyway.

Have either of you wondered why you were picked for this match? Have either of you wondered if you’re the right man for the job? And when I say ‘job’, I do mean dethroning me. Obviously The Court sees something in the two of you, or maybe you two see something in yourselves… because honestly, no one knows who ‘The Court’ is… so really, you could have put yourselves up against me, hoping to get an easy title belt.

Did you happen to see my match at In Your Hands?

Okay, just checking.

Or maybe… Maybe I’m ‘The Court’ and I picked you two because I figured you’d be easy pickings, and hell, I’d just make myself look even better if I put myself up against two, instead of one… Sounds like some underhanded shit that I’d definitely do…

IF I were ‘The Court’.

But I’m not.

Or am I?

Heh.

Guys, regardless of the reasoning behind it, regardless of who is behind it… You two get to come to Synergy tomorrow and beat up on me a little – or a lot.. whichever one suits you better. And you get to do it for no other reason other than you were picked out of a proverbial hat. So I’d make the most of it, if I were you because to be honest, you didn’t really earn this shot. You didn’t really do anything to garner you any favor to get this shot… at least not in my eyes.

But who am I, right?

So like I said, be grateful and make the most of this gift. Gifts like this don’t come along very often in this business. Unfortunately though, for the two of you… Auntie Lucy isn’t in a very giving mood this week.

 

OOC: CJ Wylde, Gabriel Baal & Eden Morgan used with permission.