November 26th 2020
1:41PM
The Bane Residence – Baltimore, Maryland

Life is looking up lately. Well, mostly. It’s nice to look around me for once and feel content, content with the way things are going.

Content..

Is that what this knot in the pit of my stomach is? Contentment?

Things are going well. They are. Joe and I are doing well. We’re making it work, and we’ll be setting a date for the wedding. His surgery went well, and it looks like he’ll be able to return to the ring. We’re looking for a new house. We’re here today, with Mac and Amber for thanksgiving.. Spending it among friends.

What’s not to feel good about?

“Hey, Lucy.”

I look over my shoulder to see a head full of red hair stepping out onto the porch where I’m seated. Well, considering one of Amber Ryan’s ankles is completely shot at the moment, I don’t know that ‘step’ is the best word to use. Regardless though, the redhead comes outside and sits down by the door, sighing loudly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?”

Amber smirks and shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, I’m not out throwing myself off of cages so I’d say that’s a win.”

I chuckle softly and lean back, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You win.”

Admittedly, Amber and I haven’t interacted too much, even when I was in Carnage. She’s a lot like my sister. Very hard around the edges, very good at being violent. No bullshit, no pomp, and circumstance. She is nothing but the woman she shows to the rest of the world, and now her career might be over and that’s a damn shame.

Shit like that and Joe’s surgery, gets me thinking about my own career and how much longer I have left.

“Okay, spill it.”

“What?”

She catches me off guard with that statement and she shakes her head and sighs again.

“Oh, just tell me what’s on your mind. I’m not allowed to beat it out of you anymore.”

I roll my eyes and grin. Her dry humor is yet another thing she and Kyra share in common. But what do I say to her? We don’t know each other very well and I don’t even know what’s actually wrong with me. I should feel good, I should be grateful for what I’ve got.

So why do I feel like I’m drowning?

Finally, I sigh and turn my head towards the redhead.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

I bring myself forward in the chair and look down at my boots while I kick around a few stray leaves that have found themselves laying in front of me.

“I feel like I’m spinning my tires, you know? Like where in the fuck do I go from here?”

I stop and glance over at her, to see her nodding.

“I know I should be good with things the way they are, but I’m not. I just don’t know what to do.”

Feeling defeated, I turn my head away and look around Mac’s Baltimore home, well the outside of it at least. It’s beautiful, much like everything else Mac has in his life. And while I was the one that pushed Joe and I to come down here today, I’m feeling like my soul is just too jaded, too darkened with disappointment to truly appreciate what I have here.

“I’ve been there.”

Amber begins, pulling her jacket tight across her chest.

“More recently than not. It’s hard to look at things sometimes and truly believe that you’re okay with the outcome.”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Been trying to be the old me.. The one who picked herself right back up and kept going. But I’m tired of taking the lumps and pulling myself back up only to be knocked right back down. I don’t have enough time left to do that anymore.”

I say that last sentence before I can stop myself and instantly I regret it. There are very few people who know about the lasting effects of what Kyra did that night when she lowered that cage on my throat. Not many people know that I’m one good hit to the throat away from being on a ventilator for the rest of my days.

I look over again, to see Amber staring at me thoughtfully. She doesn’t say anything at first, she just simply nods.. Nods as if she understands exactly what I’m saying.

“I guess you just have to figure out where you wanna go, and how you wanna get there Lucy. That’s probably not too helpful, but I get it.”

She shrugs and gets back up, struggling towards the door on one leg.

“And if you need anything?”

I nod my head.

“I appreciate that.”

She smirks and heads back inside, leaving me alone once again. Hearing that from someone else, someone who’s not invested in me – for lack of a better term – It puts things into perspective. I just don’t know what perspective, exactly.

I still don’t know what I want, or how I wanna get there.

I just know I gotta figure it out soon before it rips everything apart.

Sitting here for a few more moments, the cold finally gets to be too much and I get up, heading back towards the house. My phone rings and I glance down at it, wondering first of all who in the hell is calling me on Thanksgiving, and secondly… Why? But when I don’t see a familiar name like Kyra’s… Something tells me I shouldn’t answer it.

Something tells me I should just ignore it and go on with my day.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Lucille Johnson?”

It takes me a moment to answer. I haven’t heard that name in a long time.

Maybe I shouldn’t have answered this..

“This is she.”

“Miss Johnson, my name is Erika Sanders – I’m calling from Springfield Hospital Center, I apologize for calling you on a holiday but–”

“But..”

The name of the hospital center rings a bell, I just can’t quite figure out why.

“It’s about your mother, Christine Johnson.”

My blood runs ice cold and for a split moment, I contemplate hanging up the phone right then and there. But my arm stays frozen in place, with the phone to my ear.

“W-What about her?”

Every possible answer to that question runs through my mind all at once, trying to figure out how I’ll react to each and every one of them.

“Well, she wishes to speak with you.”

 

Well, Ang – They must have liked what they saw last time, huh? Two #TeamJellyBeanToes reunions within a month? Damn.

My only wish is that our last outing would have gone better. But hey, we have the chance to fix that on Monday. I’d be remiss though if I didn’t tell you that my confidence isn’t really at an all-time high right now. I wouldn’t be a very good partner if I didn’t tell you that this little losing streak of mine has done something to me that I guess quite a few people wouldn’t have thought could happen… It’s shaken me.

It’s shaken my belief in what I’m capable of.

But you know? This isn’t about me. I know what I’ve gotta do, I’ve gotta get up and dust myself off and give you the best damn fight I’ve got in me. I’ve gotta show Centurian that same fight that won me the Wrestlestock Cup way back when. I gotta show Konrad the woman he sees when he looks at me.

I gotta be that Lucy.

…

I don’t really know what else to say to you, fellas. I’ve beaten both of you and both of you are two of the few wrestlers whom I respect around here. Konrad, your ability to see the good in people. Your ability to see the good in just about everything. I’d give just about anything to not be so damned angry all the time. But then again, maybe that’s one of your weaknesses. Because let’s be honest, not everything has good in it. There are some things and some people out there that are just pieces of shit.

People who deserve the anger, and the wrath.

But I look at you sometimes, Konrad, and I don’t know if you can do it. There’s wrestling and there’s passion. There’s feeling something for the person across the ring from you, whether it be respect or utter hatred… Do you hate anyone, Konrad? Is there anyone I could put into the ring with you and see the fire?

What about me?

Yeah, you respect me.. But what if I told you I didn’t respect you? What if I told you that your Cross-Hemisphere title reign paled in comparison to mine. What if I told you that you simply aren’t good enough to be here… to lace up your boots beside me, huh? Does that upset you?

Does it make you angry?

Or are you gonna cry because someone you respect is being a big old meanie?

Do me a favor and grow up, Konrad. Let your balls drop and be a fucking man. Until then? You’ll always be good, but you’ll never be great.

And Centurian?

I still don’t know you. Nor do I care.

You seem like a nice guy who beat my good friend Gabriel a few months back. You’ve got your values and you stand by ’em, isn’t that right? If I didn’t know any better, it would seem like you and Konrad make the perfect team. But what do I know, right?

But doesn’t it bother you to know that I beat you at Wrestlestock.. Doesn’t it bug the hell out of you to see what I’ve done with that win? You could’ve done so much better.. Couldn’t you? You could have actually accomplished something with an accolade like that.

Does it piss you off to know that I still think I’m better than you?

Correction, I still know I’m better than you.

He who never intended on sticking around the UGWC all those months ago. What happened? Can’t stick to your guns? That doesn’t really surprise me. Then again, nothing really does anymore.

Nothing… Really… Does.

I’ll see you two on Monday.