The camera lens zooms into a pair of striking blue eyes, blue with just a hint of yellow around the center. Eyes with purpose, with a mission. After a few seconds, the eyes crinkle up on the sides, subtly squinting as a feminine voice whispers…

”I want you too”

 

Date November 14th 2017 / Time 9:30AM / Status Not Recording
Location The Wylde Residence – New York City, New York

 

 

The secret story of Lucy Wylde

What in the hell does that even mean? What secret story?

I guess I’d find out if I’d just pick the damn newspaper up and read it, but if I didn’t know any better I’d think there were an invisible force field around it – keeping me from picking it up and turning to page C-4 in the sports section and reading whatever secrets Gary and Christine thought to divulge to the world.

Really though.. I just don’t want to deal with anything to do with my parents.

Reading and re-reading their names on the cover of this paper is enough to make me want to jump out the window of this condo, straight out into traffic. I could only pray that it was moving faster than the typical ten miles per hour… which in New York is asking way too much for anyones death wish.

I just don’t get it.

Why now? Why after all these years have they suddenly resurfaced? And to do what? Ruin my life? Haven’t they already done enough of that to begin with?

I sigh and turn away from the paper, leaving it lay on my dining room table.. be it for another hour, another day.. hell I could leave it there for a year and I really wouldn’t give one flying fuck to pick it up and read it.

What could they even say that could be anywhere close to the truth?

Of course… It doesn’t really have to be the truth, does it. I should know that better than anyone, shouldn’t I.. because God knows the truth is a God damned commodity around here now a days.

Not only that, but what do I do when everyone ends up reading that… whatever that is? Can I really avoid it forever? Can I really avoid the inevitable conversations that are going to be forced upon me by whomever decides to believe the words of Lucy’s long lost mommy and daddy?

And then there’s the judge, the jury and the executioner. As much shit as I’ve dealt with from them lately, I know they won’t miss out on an opportunity to side with even more people who dislike me for who I am.. or what I am – I can’t decide which.

It’s in this moment that I realize there’s not much in life to really look forward to… too much fucking dread. Too much God damned misery.

And who’s fault is it?

Who’s fault is it that Lucy decided to let her knees get a little weak for a handsome, starry eyed jackass? Who’s fault is it that Lucy decided to break down that wall she’d built around herself and actually try to be friends with the woman who’d consistently broken her down at every. Single. Opportunity over the last (almost) year? Who’s fault is it that Lucy decided that fighting someone elses fights for them was the best, and most endearing thing for her to do? Who’s fault is it that Lucy turned her back on someone wielding a knife right in her face, trusting him not to plunge it deep into her spine? Who’s fault is it that Lucy keeps cutting her nose off despite her face, responding to these people over and over again – knowing that it’ll only set them off on another hateful rampage all over again?

Mine.

All mine.

And I know that shit too… yet I keep doing it.

Just like I did last night. Listening to them backstage, putting down a woman whom I admittedly don’t like… Why didn’t I just let them do it? Why did it matter? It’s not like Lacklan was actually there to hear it.

But I guess that’s why I couldn’t just let it go.

She couldn’t defend herself.

No matter how much I dislike her.. burying someone who can’t even retort is just low – and I’ve said it to myself many times, that I’d rather let them bury me than watch them bury anyone else just for the sake.

At least they have a ‘reason’ to bury me.

If that’s what they want to call it.

Good guy Lucy; at it again. First it was approaching the executioner himself, knowing that’s what he was.. but still trying to find the good in him. Then it was letting myself feel something for him, still knowing deep down inside myself that he will never stop being the executioner… he can’t. Trying to get on the Judges good side when secretly she’s already sentenced you to a lifetime of ridicule – that one was a good one. Good guy Lucy just can’t help herself.

Always doing the right thing. The moral thing. The loyal thing.

Makes me second guess every decision that I’ve made, everything that I’ve done that I’ve perceived to be the ‘right’ thing. Should I have run away from home and left Kyra there with Gary and Christine? Should I have teamed up with CJ in the first place? Should I have married him? Should I have divorced him? Should I have given Gabriel the time of day? Should I have tried to befriend Eden? Should I have defended Gabriel? Should I have defended Lacklan?

So many questions, so little time.

So many things that I don’t regret, yet people want me to repent for.

What a crock of shit.

The secret story of Lucy Wylde. UGWC’s sweetheart.. Yeah, right. More like, ‘the story that we’re going to tell about Lucy Wylde so that everyone sees her the exact same way we do… a worthless piece of trash.’

Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. But you’re too late.

Just ask ‘The Court’.

I turn around, staring at the paper from across the room. I know I need to read it. I know I need to know what they’ve said so I can somehow combat it. If I can. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to deny anything that they say – I mean, I can… I will – but will it actually do anything?

I don’t even know what they said.

I need to read it.

I move back towards the table, struggling with the need to know and the need to keep myself as far away from them as humanly possible. Did Kyra read it? Does she know what they said?

That must be why she called me the other day.

Must have been bad enough to make her stop sucking Eden’s dick and actually help me out for once… if this is even considered helping at this point.

I reach out and take the paper in my hand. That picture. Those words… Ghosts: The secret story of Lucy Wylde.

My hand starts to shake.

I drop the paper back onto the table and back away.

I can’t.

I just can’t.

 

There’s just so to talk about coming into this week, isn’t there? I mean seriously, who would have thought a simple Synergy would have been the locale of so many future altering events?

Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating just a bit.. Isn’t that what we do around here, though? The UGWC mantra must be: “If it’s worth doing, then it’s worth overdoing.”

Congratulations. You people WAY overdo it around here.

Just like I’m sure Sarah’s Cross-Hemisphere Celebration was going to be way overdone, the subsequent celebration of her injuries and comatose state were equally as overdone. No, not in the way of streamers and party favors… but you all could have really out done yourself if you’d of thought of it. It was overdone in the way that four grown ass people decided it a good idea to trounce over someone who obviously wasn’t going to be there to defend herself.

If I didn’t know better, I’d of thought we were all back in middle school again.

All drama, no substance.

How desperate do you four have to be to cut promos on someone who isn’t coming back for the forseeable future, possibly at all? For four people who are all grand-slam champions of the UGWC, you all sure do need A LOT of validation.

It’s really no wonder you all started this little circle-jerk club of yours.

It really is a genius idea. Form a club of the most ‘elite’ people within the UGWC. Of course that’s the overrated opinion of you four, but I’ll use it just to make a point. So, ya’ll formed this club, and now you put down everyone who defies you.

Which is like, everyone, by the way.

Like no one agrees with you four.

But anyway. You put each other over, you shit on everyone else and for some reason you guys honestly believe that that’s supposed to make you look better than the rest of us. Please, enlighten me about how exactly that makes you look like a beautiful flower growing out of the pile of shit that is the rest of the UGWC roster?

I’m listening.

…

…

What?

You mean there isn’t a way that it makes you look good?

By God you’re right!

You all look like fucking idiots. Grossly overrated, supremely hated… idiots. But I’m not stupid enough to think that you all seriously care about the fact that everyone hates you. You all think I’m stupid, you all think I’m naive and heartbroken and all these other nasty things that you somehow think will send me crying and running away…

Guess what, I’m still here and it’s going to take a lot more than some mean words to get rid of me.

But you already knew that, didn’t you?

You already knew that I wasn’t going anywhere. You just enjoy this game. You enjoy dragging my name though the dirt and trying to get people to question my intelligence or my trust in others. Like I said, it’s genius.

Except for the fact that no one believes a God damned word you say.

Not anymore.

I’ll stick around, and I’ll take the shit you spew at me. The little comments you throw out there on Twitter, like a lure in the water – waiting for that one fish, that fish that’s not all together there in the head… Yeah, I’m that fish. I admit it. I’ve taken the bait from you four more than once, and that’s on me. That’s just the kind of people you are. You reel me in, you rip the hook from my mouth and laugh as I bleed before throwing me back into the water and casting out the line again – knowing damn well that I’m going to turn right back around with that hole in my lip and bite at the lure again.

It’s a vicious cycle.

One that I haven’t learned from.

Unfortunately for me, there are just some things that I can’t let go. I know, what a terrible personality trait, huh? Standing up for what I believe in. Standing up for those who can’t. Such an unattractive thing for someone to do. Why aren’t I more like you guys? Why can’t I shit on everyone else that’s not a deceptive little cocksucker? Why can’t I be pompous cuntbags like you all?

Such is the life of a peasant, I suppose.

Because that’s exactly what I am to you, right?

Wrong.

I am coming for you and I don’t care who comes with me – but I’m not going to stop until your blood stains my hands, until your little plan falls in ruins… because your order isn’t my order and I’ll never step in line because that’s not what I came here to do. I came here to make history, I came here to be more than all of you thought I could… I came here to stand out.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

 

OOC: Sorry this is so short. So much real life shit going on this week, my mind hasn’t been into this for a while because of it. Hopefully you all enjoy this for what it’s supposed to be – a little in between piece to hold ya’ll over until the next piece of Lucys story is ready to be told… or until Barbie gets her head back into the game! 😉

Oh, and good luck Danny, Britt and Mike <3