December 2nd 2020
2:41PM
The Lee/Wylde Residence – New York City, New York

Since Thanksgiving, and a certain phone call I got – I’ve been doing anything and everything possible to avoid thinking about that phone conversation.  

…

”She wishes to speak with you.”

I shook my head.

“What? Why?”

I sat on the line, staring out at the city, waiting for a response. I couldn’t comprehend why she’d want to talk to me.. Why now? There’s no reason I’d want to speak to her.

“To be completely honest, Miss Wylde – She hasn’t really given a reason.”

I shook my head.

“I–”

I heard the door to the patio open once more and I glanced over to see Joe staring at me. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head once more.

“I’m sorry, this is a lot.. I-”

“I’m very sorry to put this on you Miss Wylde, I just wanted to touch base with you and–”

Joe moved in and sat down beside me, I laid my hand on his.

“Listen, I don’t want to deal with this right now. I-I’ll call you back after the holiday and.. I don’t know.”

“Miss Wylde, I–”

I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said as I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up. I put my head down in my hands for a few seconds, and I feel Joe’s hand on my lower back.

“Luce, is everything okay?”

I sighed and sat up.

“That was the hospital my mother is in.”

“..Yeah?”

I shrugged my shoulders and glanced over at him.

“Apparently my mother wants to speak to me.”

His eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Right? I don’t get it.”

“Are.. Are you going to talk to her?”

Joe asks the million-dollar question and for a few seconds, I don’t respond.

“I don’t know. I just.. I just don’t know.”

…

I shake my head, refocusing on the computer screen in front of me – And the real estate listings staring back at me. I’ve been wanting to get out of New York for a while now, but now? Now I just can’t focus.

And it’s starting to piss me off.

“God damnit..”

I mutter to myself, clicking through a few listings – barely able to read the descriptions before clicking the next one.

It’s just, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to deal with the baggage that came with everything that came with what my father did.. And what I watched her to do to him in that warehouse. Before Thanksgiving, I hadn’t thought about it for a while..

“God damnit!”

I growl and slam the laptop closed.

“Luce?”

I hear Joe’s voice echoing through the condo just before I hear his footsteps as he comes down the steps. I don’t bother responding because I figure he’ll be here in a few seconds anyway – And he’ll probably ask again.

And I’ll most likely be no closer to having an answer for whatever it is he’ll ask.

“Still thinking about your mom?”

I roll my eyes and sit back on the couch, contemplating whether or not I want to kick the computer through the window. But when he sits down in front of me, beside the computer – I decide kicking him wouldn’t be in my best interest.

“What the hell do I do?”

I say abruptly, putting my hands over my face.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re so helpful.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have any good advice for you.. But what do you want to do, Luce?”

I let my arms drop to my sides as my eyes meet Joe’s.

“What do I have to talk to her about? What in the hell would she need so badly to talk to me about? Hasn’t she put me through enough?”

Joe doesn’t respond, simply nodding his head as he looks down at his feet.

“All I want is to forget them. But they always find a way of making that impossible.”

I say bitterly, my chest tightening as I think about that warehouse one more time.. The feeling of my blood running down my face, the dull thud as my father beat me continuously as she watched from across the room… Doing nothing but taking up space and wasting air.

“Then don’t talk to her. Move on. Block the number. Go back to looking for houses and planning the wedding.”

It would be easy to do that.

Wouldn’t it?

I could just pull out my phone and do all that, but something inside my stomach doesn’t feel right. There’s a lot going on right now. Joe fighting Tempest, me fighting Donovan, the wedding, finding a house.. I don’t have to talk to her.

“Yeah.”

I finally say, sitting up and forcing a smile onto my lips.

“You’re right.”

Joe returns my smile and leans in, kissing me before he gets up and heads back towards the stairs.

“It’ll be okay, Luce.”

“Yeah.. It will.”

I reply softly – Unsure if he even heard me as I hear him heading back up the stairs to continue packing his bags for his trip to bumfuck wherever for his match. I don’t like it. But what does that matter? He just had surgery, got attacked and now he’s heading off somewhere for a match that God only knows what will happen.

God, that pisses me off.

“It’ll be fine…”

I whisper to myself.

“It’ll all be fine.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up the number for the mental hospital, staring at it as my finger hovers over the ‘call’ button.

I press the button.

 

I know what this is about, Donovan.

I mean you did pretty much say it the other week. But I get it. You wanna end your year on a high note, and what better way of doing that than beating me?

But see, any other time I’d be flattered.

It’s just – I haven’t exactly had the best year, you know? Of course you know, Donny. That’s exactly why you picked me. Because in your fucked up little mind, you think that I’m just gonna an easy ‘W’ to end your year with.

Do you even know me at all?

I mean, yeah.. Shit’s not gone my way at all this year since I won the Wrestlestock Cup. It’s just, I don’t really like you, bud. You’re a moron. You’re an over-inflated egotistical bastard who’s got a superiority complex.

You’re insistent upon cementing your legacy on the backs of those you deem to be less than you. But what more can you do? What more do you gotta do to decide to give it up and give the rest of us a fucking break?

So here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetcheeks.

You’re gonna walk into Horizons like your shit doesn’t stink, you’re gonna come into our match like you’ve got no chance to lose, and then? I’m gonna kick your disgusting fucking head off your shoulders. I’m gonna end your 2020 in the worst possible way because I fucking can, Donovan.

Because I fucking can…

And because my legacy is more important. So please, test me, Donovan. Please make it even more fun for me to wipe that smug look off your face. Let me put you out of our collective misery.

Okay?

You know it’s a damn shame that I’m stuck in this match with you, mucking up the midcard when I should be doing more. I know I agreed to this, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m better than this. I’m better than you and I always have been.

I guess I just gotta prove it.

Prove it and move the fuck on with my life.

I’m tired of not being a factor around here.

So here’s a preview of 2021..

I’m coming for you. All of you.

And the slaughter begins with you, Donovan.

But if you think you’re just so much better than me?  If you really think you can just use me as a stepping stone to head into 2021 on a slightly less shitty note than you would have anyway?

Prove it, honey.  

Prove it.

See you on Monday.