Entente IX - Crystallized
Aug 16, 2019 19:09:06 GMT -5
Alex Richards, Guillotine (QDT), and 2 more like this
Post by Lissie Hope on Aug 16, 2019 19:09:06 GMT -5
Monday.
"I won!"
Sage held her hands up to her mouth and watched the flashing lights on the penny slot machine. The 'jackpot' sign turned red and she watched the earnings counter ascend, clicking her heels on the hardwood in excitement. Lissie got up from her chair and stood behind her, wrapping her arms around her neck, kissing her cheek.
"Congrats, babe!"
A beaming waitress slid into the celebration with a pair of fresh drinks, obviously incentivizing them to stay longer.
"Four-thousand dollars! That pays for the trip!" Sage said, excitedly.
"Or..." Lissie began. "We can go have some fun at Sapphire tonight!" Lissie said, hoping she'd commit to a night at one of Las Vegas' extravagant exotic clubs. Sage didn't seem too enthused. Just convincing her to come to Vegas for the week was a challenge, but Lissie tried to save face. "I'm just kidding, babe. We'll stay in, order some takeout -- maybe upgrade to a suite for a few nights. Just the two of us... alone." The two kissed passionately.
"I can't believe I won," Sage said, still dumbfounded.
"No..." Lissie said. "I did," she said, referencing Sage herself.
After a nice walk along the Strip, enveloped in the glitz and the lights of all the casinos and hotels, one attraction caught their eye. They decided to take a ride on the High Roller Observation Wheel, and when they reached the peak, 550-feet in the air and surrounded by the most fantastic views either of them had ever seen in their lifetimes, Sage looked deeply into Lissie's eyes.
"I love you."
Lissie smiled and nudged her forehead into Sage's cheek. They locked lips again and Lissie pulled Sage in close. But Lissie's lack of response didn't fall on deaf ears.
"I need to know that I'm not alone in this," Sage challenged. "Are you in this with me?"
"Sage... I'm all-in."
Today.
Tuesday.
"'Aye bish, why ain't 'ya answerin' my calls?" Lissie walked right by Kennedy Matthews as soon as she opened the door. She set out two vegan burgers on the table and pulled out a seat for her. "These s'posed to be delish; Strellie told me you ain't been eatin' much."
"'Ye gabbin' 'bout me behin' ma back?"
"Chill them ladybits, incubator!" Lissie remarked, holding up both hands. "I come in peace!" It was at this moment that Lissie noticed dried mascara had been running down her cheeks. She'd been crying for awhile. "What's the matter?"
"It's just so overwhelming," Kennedy responded. Lissie placed a hand on her shoulder. "All of it."
"I hear 'ya," Lissie assured. "You know Strellie will go to war for you, right? And Geri? She's distant, but she's a lot more caring and observant than she lets on."
"An' yoo?"
"Well, I'm a bitch," Lissie said with a smile. "But that's why you love me." Kennedy giggled into a napkin, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Look, I've been there. I've made some mistakes--" A pause, recalling her tryst with Ryan Elias that she was still too stubborn to vocalize. "And there were a couple of times where I had to make some really tough choices--" Another pause. This time, she thought back to the time she was young and broke and had to visit the clinic on her own. Shaking the traumatic memories from her mind, she continued. "But just realize that if you decide to keep it, we got 'ya back."
Kennedy, flooded with emotions, draped her arms around Lissie's neck. It was a hug neither of them expected, and they were both surprised with how far they'd come after months of distrust. Such a cathartic release.
"Besides, it'll be exciting to see that belly-full of Jaice-Juice grow into an actual real-life person," Lissie joked.
"Oh good lord!"
The two sat and ate their deluxe veggie burgers and Lissie was amazed how quickly Kennedy consumed it.
"Are yoo an' that string-bean thinkin' 'bout havin' li'l ones of 'ye own?"
"Well for one, we are missing a key component," Lissie said, raising a fist to her mouth and popping her cheek out with her tongue, mimicking a blowjob. Kennedy threw a fry at her. "Besides, why do I need a mini-me when we got so many bitches tryin'a be me?"
"Don'cha underestimate Claire," Kennedy warned. "She's dangerous. And ol' Alli's been ge'en loads-ah hype."
"Those bitches won't know what hit 'em."
WEDNESDAY.
"How's Vegas, sis?" Robbie's comforting voice was one she had been longing to hear. It seemed as if the more success she achieved, the more distant they'd become.
"Man, it's been incredible! I can't wait to get back home, though. How's everything? How's 'ma?"
"We're doin' alright," Robbie said, a little strain in his voice. "Everything's just how you left it last time you were home," he finished, unconvincingly. She didn't press. "How's Sin City treatin' the ol' ball-and-chain? Y'all married yet?"
"Shut up, idiot!" she said with a smile. "She's showering. We're 'gon go grab dinner here in a bit. Hey Robbie?" she said, gently closing the door to the bathroom behind her. "She told me she loved me..."
"Wow, that's great!"
"...and I didn't say it back." His groan on the other end penetrated her soul. She was thinking back to her night with Ryan Elias, and how the guilt was beginning to fester. "A few weeks back... I saw Ryan..." she trailed off.
"Spit it out," Robbie said sternly. He knew she was keeping something internalized. "Did something happen with him?" Her silence spoke volumes. "Goddammit, Lis. Everytime you've got something good--"
"--I fuck it up. I know. You don't need to lecture me," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Someone needs to! You and Izzy could'a been special, and you did it then, too. What happened with Ryan?"
"It doesn't matter. He's ancient history, okay? I'm trying not to relive it!"
"And on Twitter, looking thirsty as fuck. You got a nose for any new pussy that comes around... Jesus Christ, Lis. You never learn." These were all things Lissie was preparing to hear, but still, each word felt like she was being stabbed with knives. "You're your own worst fuckin' enemy."
"Stop!" Lissie screamed, and she heard the faucet slow to a drip. "I get it, okay? You can't tell me anythin' I haven't already said to myself. It's eating me alive, Robbie. I was hoping you'd be supportive."
"I'd rather be truthful."
"I'm just trying to leave it all behind, okay? I have new things to look forward to, and I don't want my past to get in the way."
Lissie's phone buzzed, and she read the text message with Robbie still on the line.
THURSDAY.
"The-fuck are you doing here?"
Albert Kenney was the biggest mistake Lissie had made since she entered the business. In a move she thought would give her an edge on her biggest foe, it ended up backfiring on her and nearly costed her everything. He sat at the edge of the bar sipping an overpriced martini, and pushed out a stool for Lissie to take a seat.
"I already gave you what you wanted," she pleaded. "You said you'd delete the pictures."
"Well, it turns out I'm gonna need a little more," he said, shamelessly. "And this time, I'm not talking about money." He eyed her up and down, and she felt gross and preyed upon.
"I'm not a whore," she said firmly, with disgust.
"Yes," he replied with derision. "You are." The bartender came to her side of the bar and she waved him off. "You really think you're good enough for her? She's everything you're not, Elisabeth, and the quicker you realize it, the better off she'll be."
"You don't know a fucking thing about us," she scolded. "Mention her again..."
"You'll do nothing," he challenged. "You cannot change. You will not change. If I were you, I'd focus more on the stakes of that big match you've got this weekend. There's some big challengers on the other side who can inflict far more damage than me. In fact, consider my offer a courtesy. We all saw how focused and determined you became after Ryan fucked you senseless..."
It took everything in her power not to back-hand him right then.
"...if you harness this fire, this hatred, who knows? Maybe you'll get what you've been fighting for all along," he said, finishing up his drink. "You should really take this time to figure out what's more important; your love life..." A pause. "...or your career. I'll be in touch." The bartender came over to collect payment. "She's got this," he said, excusing himself from the bar.
"I'm gonna need some tequila."
TOMORROW.
Lissie Hope stared at her reflection in the mirror, and she remembered the person staring back at her as someone she had tried for years to leave behind. But like an old addiction, those old flaws, that old identity, it would always find itself creeping back to the surface. She knew in her heart that honesty would be her saving grace, and though it may cost her love, it would cleanse her of guilt. She was mentally preparing herself to tell Sage everything.
And then Sage appeared in the mirror behind her.
"Hey babe, you ready to go?"
Lissie's eyes began to redden and moisten. As much fearlessness as she presented to the public, cowardice began to take shape.
"Hey, I've gotta do something real quick... I'll meet you at the casino later, okay?"
Sage waved her palms in confusion and disappointment. When Lissie leaned in for a kiss, Sage turned her face. "Call me later, I'll be out."
"You should," Lissie assured. "Enjoy yourself."
Lissie stepped into the entryway of Sapphire, and the pulsating lights and bass drops immediately captured her attention. She was drawn to a dancer working the floor, her magnetizing charm breaking any wall Lissie had attempted to put up to guard herself. The dancer sat Lissie down on a stool and straddled her, dancing provocatively, stimulating all of her senses.
"You can touch," the dancer instructed, noticing Lissie balling up her fist cautiously.
"Maybe later."
Lissie watched the stage for awhile, envying all of their bravery and fortitude. She never noticed Albert Kenney pull up in the seat beside her.
"You came," he said.
"You will," she replied, surprising even him.
Albert smiled and pulled out a vial from his pocket. "For a little courage," he told her, raising up the miniature spoon filled with white powder. She felt the burn in her nostril and the drip in the back of her throat. The same dancer passed by and Lissie grabbed her by the hand.
"You got a VIP room?" Lissie asked, and the dancer smiled from ear-to-ear. She took a step, still holding Lissie's hand. "Wait..." Lissie said, stopping in her tracks. She placed her hand on Albert's shoulder. "Is there room for a friend?"
"Follow me."
"I won!"
Sage held her hands up to her mouth and watched the flashing lights on the penny slot machine. The 'jackpot' sign turned red and she watched the earnings counter ascend, clicking her heels on the hardwood in excitement. Lissie got up from her chair and stood behind her, wrapping her arms around her neck, kissing her cheek.
"Congrats, babe!"
A beaming waitress slid into the celebration with a pair of fresh drinks, obviously incentivizing them to stay longer.
"Four-thousand dollars! That pays for the trip!" Sage said, excitedly.
"Or..." Lissie began. "We can go have some fun at Sapphire tonight!" Lissie said, hoping she'd commit to a night at one of Las Vegas' extravagant exotic clubs. Sage didn't seem too enthused. Just convincing her to come to Vegas for the week was a challenge, but Lissie tried to save face. "I'm just kidding, babe. We'll stay in, order some takeout -- maybe upgrade to a suite for a few nights. Just the two of us... alone." The two kissed passionately.
"I can't believe I won," Sage said, still dumbfounded.
"No..." Lissie said. "I did," she said, referencing Sage herself.
After a nice walk along the Strip, enveloped in the glitz and the lights of all the casinos and hotels, one attraction caught their eye. They decided to take a ride on the High Roller Observation Wheel, and when they reached the peak, 550-feet in the air and surrounded by the most fantastic views either of them had ever seen in their lifetimes, Sage looked deeply into Lissie's eyes.
"I love you."
Lissie smiled and nudged her forehead into Sage's cheek. They locked lips again and Lissie pulled Sage in close. But Lissie's lack of response didn't fall on deaf ears.
"I need to know that I'm not alone in this," Sage challenged. "Are you in this with me?"
"Sage... I'm all-in."
Today.
For one to rise; the others must fall.
The climb up the steepest of mountains demands the upmost courage, inspiration, and resiliency. You face your biggest fears, ascending the harshest death-defying slopes. It forces you to dig the deepest you could ever dream of; defying all the odds, all the expectations.
How do you survive?
Do you dig your toes into the soil, and reach for a hand to pull you up?
No.
You arrive at the pinnacle and realize the only one who can get you there is yourself.
How do you survive?
Do you dig your toes into the soil, and reach for a hand to pull you up?
No.
You arrive at the pinnacle and realize the only one who can get you there is yourself.
And you reflect.
What got you here?
Did you take every step fearlessly or did you succumb to cowardice? Every small victory matters; they are fractions that equal the sum of it's parts. When the prize is staring at you at the end of the tunnel, you set your sights on what matters most. Zeroing in, ignoring the distractions, approaching the zenith and fulfilling the destiny of a champion.
Did you take every step fearlessly or did you succumb to cowardice? Every small victory matters; they are fractions that equal the sum of it's parts. When the prize is staring at you at the end of the tunnel, you set your sights on what matters most. Zeroing in, ignoring the distractions, approaching the zenith and fulfilling the destiny of a champion.
There isn't a soul in the world that has dimmed the brightest of lights that have illuminated me since the day I arrived. I'm eager; crystallized. A fighter with monumental achievements to her name and untapped potential to unearth. I'm the saving grace of Action Wrestling; the one who will see that briefcase hanging from the rafters, feel it with the tip of my fingers, and grab it with every ounce of my strength!
I've overcome it all.
Harry Diderot. Titan.
Jakob Lister. Monster.
Ryan Elias. Devil.
C.C. Loyal. Champion.
Casey Holliday. Legend.
I've climbed that ladder.
Rung.
By.
Rung!
Have you?
I've earned this opportunity, Teo. I've paid my dues. I didn't waltz into A-Dub and presume that my reputation in a defunct company would automatically cement my place in Glory. I didn't rely on a popularity contest to assure a chance to compete for the biggest prize of all. No; I took on all challengers, as a fish out of camp, throwing everything I have into every match I compete in. I created my legend from scratch, born out of thin air. I have given everything I've got to land where I'm standing now, and I did it all without anyone giving me anything.
You, on the other hand, have needed that pat on the back. The validation; the preferential treatment. You arrived with the fanfare, with the hype -- with the fire bursting straight out your ass. But that's not good enough, Teo. You cannot ride the wave of your former prestige because I will not allow it.
You don't get to win, Teo.
You are not essential.
You're a shadow.
Creeping in like a thief in the night.
You are nothing here.
What Action Wrestling needs is a new pillar in it's foundation, a homegrown talent whose fiber of her existence is ingrained in the greatest company in the world. It doesn't need a supporting player who is incapable of being the main event. It doesn't need a hollow shell who will never be in the fabric of AW's conscience.
It doesn't need you, Teo.
It needs me.
Lissie.
Motherfucking.
Hope.
Tuesday.
"'Aye bish, why ain't 'ya answerin' my calls?" Lissie walked right by Kennedy Matthews as soon as she opened the door. She set out two vegan burgers on the table and pulled out a seat for her. "These s'posed to be delish; Strellie told me you ain't been eatin' much."
"'Ye gabbin' 'bout me behin' ma back?"
"Chill them ladybits, incubator!" Lissie remarked, holding up both hands. "I come in peace!" It was at this moment that Lissie noticed dried mascara had been running down her cheeks. She'd been crying for awhile. "What's the matter?"
"It's just so overwhelming," Kennedy responded. Lissie placed a hand on her shoulder. "All of it."
"I hear 'ya," Lissie assured. "You know Strellie will go to war for you, right? And Geri? She's distant, but she's a lot more caring and observant than she lets on."
"An' yoo?"
"Well, I'm a bitch," Lissie said with a smile. "But that's why you love me." Kennedy giggled into a napkin, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Look, I've been there. I've made some mistakes--" A pause, recalling her tryst with Ryan Elias that she was still too stubborn to vocalize. "And there were a couple of times where I had to make some really tough choices--" Another pause. This time, she thought back to the time she was young and broke and had to visit the clinic on her own. Shaking the traumatic memories from her mind, she continued. "But just realize that if you decide to keep it, we got 'ya back."
Kennedy, flooded with emotions, draped her arms around Lissie's neck. It was a hug neither of them expected, and they were both surprised with how far they'd come after months of distrust. Such a cathartic release.
"Besides, it'll be exciting to see that belly-full of Jaice-Juice grow into an actual real-life person," Lissie joked.
"Oh good lord!"
The two sat and ate their deluxe veggie burgers and Lissie was amazed how quickly Kennedy consumed it.
"Are yoo an' that string-bean thinkin' 'bout havin' li'l ones of 'ye own?"
"Well for one, we are missing a key component," Lissie said, raising a fist to her mouth and popping her cheek out with her tongue, mimicking a blowjob. Kennedy threw a fry at her. "Besides, why do I need a mini-me when we got so many bitches tryin'a be me?"
"Don'cha underestimate Claire," Kennedy warned. "She's dangerous. And ol' Alli's been ge'en loads-ah hype."
"Those bitches won't know what hit 'em."
Allison Riggs-Preston...
You're used to living in the shadows, aren't you?
Your joke of a husband was getting all the accolades while you, the better-half, were stuck tending to another wasted generation; and when the going got tough, when Johnny Stylez of all people squashed 'im, and Walter kicked his dick-in-the-dirt for good measure -- he took his balls and bailed.
Now you're stuck with the burden of restoring his name.
But what about yours?
Your lineage is well-known. You come from a fighting family. You were trained by the best and you've been around the industry since you were a wide-eyed tot. But you've never quite lived up to all that potential, have you? You were a nomad, looking for a home, traveling from company-to-company looking for that big break. It never came, you got dick-downed, and you gave it all up.
You're an embarrassment, Allison.
To your name.
To your family.
To strong women everywhere.
Those wide-eyes are back. Here you are, your biggest opportunity to date, and you're a doe-in-the-headlights. You don't know what it takes to beat the best, because you've never succeeded. You may have arrived at the same plateau as me, and quicker, I'll admit, but I hope someone's down there to catch you. I'll make sure to send you back to tend to that unsatisfying, boring life you've built, because that's your role, Allison. That's where you thrive.
Not in this ring.
Not in my sanctuary.
So go the-fuck home.
Claire Hawkins: the polar-opposite.
You've been here before, the only one out of all of us. You have that distinction, the experience, the knowledge of an All-In ladder match and all it entails.
But you crater on every big stage you've ever been put on.
Your knowledge?
Powerless.
You've made a career of failing when it matters most.
That doesn't make you dangerous, Claire.
That makes you a coward.
Your knees tremble and your nuts shrivel every single time the big opportunity presents itself. You carried a meek division for a few months, when every challenger you met crumbled at your feet. That was, until, Roger Payton, Jr. arrived and exposed your psyche. He reminded us all of the Claire Hawkins of old, the one incapable of taking the company by the balls, the one who fails every time the lights shine the brightest.
You're a flop.
A dud.
An empty void.
Now...
...and Forevermore.
That inferno used to burn so hot, and you had it all in the palm of your hands. You were building a legacy, becoming one of the best Television Champions in history -- and you flamed out, harder and faster than you could say Casey Holliday. You were never built to scorch the earth. You've never been able to bury a legend. There is no place for you in World Championship lore.
Action Wrestling doesn't want another perpetual loser.
It needs someone equipped to carry the throne.
You don't have it in you, Claire, that much is clear.
But I do.
AW doesn't need Claire Hawkins.
It needs me.
Lissie.
Motherfucking.
Hope.
WEDNESDAY.
"How's Vegas, sis?" Robbie's comforting voice was one she had been longing to hear. It seemed as if the more success she achieved, the more distant they'd become.
"Man, it's been incredible! I can't wait to get back home, though. How's everything? How's 'ma?"
"We're doin' alright," Robbie said, a little strain in his voice. "Everything's just how you left it last time you were home," he finished, unconvincingly. She didn't press. "How's Sin City treatin' the ol' ball-and-chain? Y'all married yet?"
"Shut up, idiot!" she said with a smile. "She's showering. We're 'gon go grab dinner here in a bit. Hey Robbie?" she said, gently closing the door to the bathroom behind her. "She told me she loved me..."
"Wow, that's great!"
"...and I didn't say it back." His groan on the other end penetrated her soul. She was thinking back to her night with Ryan Elias, and how the guilt was beginning to fester. "A few weeks back... I saw Ryan..." she trailed off.
"Spit it out," Robbie said sternly. He knew she was keeping something internalized. "Did something happen with him?" Her silence spoke volumes. "Goddammit, Lis. Everytime you've got something good--"
"--I fuck it up. I know. You don't need to lecture me," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Someone needs to! You and Izzy could'a been special, and you did it then, too. What happened with Ryan?"
"It doesn't matter. He's ancient history, okay? I'm trying not to relive it!"
"And on Twitter, looking thirsty as fuck. You got a nose for any new pussy that comes around... Jesus Christ, Lis. You never learn." These were all things Lissie was preparing to hear, but still, each word felt like she was being stabbed with knives. "You're your own worst fuckin' enemy."
"Stop!" Lissie screamed, and she heard the faucet slow to a drip. "I get it, okay? You can't tell me anythin' I haven't already said to myself. It's eating me alive, Robbie. I was hoping you'd be supportive."
"I'd rather be truthful."
"I'm just trying to leave it all behind, okay? I have new things to look forward to, and I don't want my past to get in the way."
Lissie's phone buzzed, and she read the text message with Robbie still on the line.
I'll be in Vegas tomorrow. Meet me at 4pm. Trust me, you'll want to be there. - Albert
This is a fucking joke, right?
Morally-bankrupt.
Socially-inept.
Borderline-retarded.
These are just a few adjectives that describe LA Johnny Stylez. Tweedle-dumbass makes his grand appearance at All-In after dispatching two members of the roster even more useless than him. Dane Preston is still pulling glass shards out of his face, playing broken daddy to that poor child with a scared, flaccid, nut-less father. And he pinned Scott Slayer to advance to this match, the embodiment of toxic male-fragility, whose bones are so tender and whose ego is so delicate that now he's missing and on suicide watch.
What a fucking resume you've built there, Johnny.
You spend all your time firing off whatever ammo you can muster by ranting on Twitter, and it leaves you nothing when it really counts. I remember when Odin Balfore cucked y'all out and it hurt your souls so much that you even managed to put your differences with Preston aside for a little while, just so you could 'set the story straight'.
That's how you battle. That's what's most important to you, isn't it? You try to cut the deepest you can and you try to shape the narrative, because deep down, you don't want anyone to believe you to be the insecure, limp-dicked bitch we all know you are.
You fucking pussy.
You can load up the biggest gun in your arsenal, Johnny -- and we all know you're over-compensating -- but it won't be enough.
You don't have what it takes to climb the ladder in Action Wrestling.
You don't have the balls to go All-In.
I still remember kicking your sad, tired ass and ripping them from your sack, and now?
I'll stuff 'em straight up Derrick Vayden's ass.
Oh, champ.
After all the peripheral shit-talking, we will finally meet across the ring again.
As much as I enjoy kicking you down a peg, you've done what only few of my victims have done after I got through with them.
You got better.
And I applaud you, Derrick.
Twice, you've become the King of the Cruiserweight division. But at the same time, restricting yourself to the same five people week after week has given you the option to dodge me at every turn, even though we arrived in Action at the same time. We both had the opportunity to climb the ladder, to continue elevating into the upper stratosphere, but you?
You were comfortable.
You chose to stay dormant.
Stagnant.
You can continue to fly under-the-radar and dominate a division that, though I'm eligible for, would be a waste of my talents. But that means you aren't ready for the big leagues, Derrick. You aren't qualified. That means that in the harshest seas tyrannized by sharks, you're the minnow, and I'm going to eat you alive.
This is the eclipse of Derrick Vayden.
This is when you fall down the wayside.
You will forever be in my rear-view mirror. I can always lay claim to harshly introducing you to Action Wrestling, and putting that first L on your record. And after All-In? I'll be the one to banish you back into oblivion.
AW doesn't need a Cruiserweight rising to the top.
It needs someone who can do everything you do... but better.
It needs me.
Lissie.
Motherfucking.
Hope.
THURSDAY.
"The-fuck are you doing here?"
Albert Kenney was the biggest mistake Lissie had made since she entered the business. In a move she thought would give her an edge on her biggest foe, it ended up backfiring on her and nearly costed her everything. He sat at the edge of the bar sipping an overpriced martini, and pushed out a stool for Lissie to take a seat.
"I already gave you what you wanted," she pleaded. "You said you'd delete the pictures."
"Well, it turns out I'm gonna need a little more," he said, shamelessly. "And this time, I'm not talking about money." He eyed her up and down, and she felt gross and preyed upon.
"I'm not a whore," she said firmly, with disgust.
"Yes," he replied with derision. "You are." The bartender came to her side of the bar and she waved him off. "You really think you're good enough for her? She's everything you're not, Elisabeth, and the quicker you realize it, the better off she'll be."
"You don't know a fucking thing about us," she scolded. "Mention her again..."
"You'll do nothing," he challenged. "You cannot change. You will not change. If I were you, I'd focus more on the stakes of that big match you've got this weekend. There's some big challengers on the other side who can inflict far more damage than me. In fact, consider my offer a courtesy. We all saw how focused and determined you became after Ryan fucked you senseless..."
It took everything in her power not to back-hand him right then.
"...if you harness this fire, this hatred, who knows? Maybe you'll get what you've been fighting for all along," he said, finishing up his drink. "You should really take this time to figure out what's more important; your love life..." A pause. "...or your career. I'll be in touch." The bartender came over to collect payment. "She's got this," he said, excusing himself from the bar.
"I'm gonna need some tequila."
It surrounds us.
The torrential downpour; the unforgiving current... the dark tide barrels through.
How do you survive the undertow?
You're swimming, and it takes you under.
You gasp for breath, swallowing the sea, your lungs saturating.
And you reach for safe harbor, hoping something will pull you ashore.
And it's the All-In briefcase.
We're both at a crossroads here, Quixote. We are torn between what we need, and what we desire. What we achieve, and what falls through the cracks. We aren't all that different; you and me. And those parallels have been drawn long before now. We are on a collision course to attain greatness; we've got similar stories, forged on kindred paths, but truthfully?
There isn't room for both of us.
This is the point where the air is cleansed.
This is the place where our roads diverge.
This is where we determine who will rightfully stand in the center of the ring, holding the opportunity of a lifetime. Which of us will satisfy our hunger, quench our thirst, execute the performance of legends and stare directly in the eye of the World Champion and fulfill that promise -- the one so many have failed to deliver over the last eight months?
It could be you.
It could be Teo.
It could be Leviathan.
But it won't be.
It'll be me!
I've earned that mantle!
You've been used, Quixote, by the women pulling you in every direction and the enemy who has taken you under his wing. When Walter left you beaten and battered, and you stared through the barrel of the gun, who was your refuge? Who pulled you in and saved you from the Royal Family?
Leviathan.
The master manipulator.
Your achilles heel.
You need him.
And he needs you.
Leviathan, you've stood atop the summit of the steepest of mountains, stepping on the fingers of anyone who dared to pull themselves up. You've been a pillar in the foundation, carrying Action Wrestling on your shoulders. But now? You're a lost soul. You might win matches, and you might terrorize weaklings like him, but you'll never be the champion you once were. I won't allow it.
You've abandoned that ambition. Now? You only seek to punish. You're more concerned with toying with our little friend, and the All-In reward is secondary to the games you play. But I don't fear you, William. Not like he does. I'm not Tawny, or Jenna, or anyone else that sees the mask and bleeds out of their ass. Quixote? He gives you purpose. He tickles your loins.
But that's not what this match is about, is it? Something's different. Maybe it's the high of holding the briefcase that lights the spark. Maybe it's the thrill of knowing you've climbed each rung, one by one, besting seven others. I'm sure you remember what it's like to hold the World Championship. The physical representation of knowing you're the best in the world. Something you can see, and touch; the symbol of greatness.
I want that.
I need that.
But you?
This doesn't mean anything to you anymore. The only thing that matters to you... is him. And that's not a winning formula. Not this time. Not with these stakes. Not with me in the picture.
This doesn't mean anything to you anymore. The only thing that matters to you... is him. And that's not a winning formula. Not this time. Not with these stakes. Not with me in the picture.
Now that everything is crystallized, we define the roles.
Leviathan, the Punisher.
Guillotine, the Apparatus.
But Action Wrestling doesn't need the tools.
It needs the Executioner.
And that's me.
Lissie.
Motherfucking.
Hope.
TOMORROW.
Lissie Hope stared at her reflection in the mirror, and she remembered the person staring back at her as someone she had tried for years to leave behind. But like an old addiction, those old flaws, that old identity, it would always find itself creeping back to the surface. She knew in her heart that honesty would be her saving grace, and though it may cost her love, it would cleanse her of guilt. She was mentally preparing herself to tell Sage everything.
And then Sage appeared in the mirror behind her.
"Hey babe, you ready to go?"
Lissie's eyes began to redden and moisten. As much fearlessness as she presented to the public, cowardice began to take shape.
"Hey, I've gotta do something real quick... I'll meet you at the casino later, okay?"
Sage waved her palms in confusion and disappointment. When Lissie leaned in for a kiss, Sage turned her face. "Call me later, I'll be out."
"You should," Lissie assured. "Enjoy yourself."
Lissie stepped into the entryway of Sapphire, and the pulsating lights and bass drops immediately captured her attention. She was drawn to a dancer working the floor, her magnetizing charm breaking any wall Lissie had attempted to put up to guard herself. The dancer sat Lissie down on a stool and straddled her, dancing provocatively, stimulating all of her senses.
"You can touch," the dancer instructed, noticing Lissie balling up her fist cautiously.
"Maybe later."
Lissie watched the stage for awhile, envying all of their bravery and fortitude. She never noticed Albert Kenney pull up in the seat beside her.
"You came," he said.
"You will," she replied, surprising even him.
Albert smiled and pulled out a vial from his pocket. "For a little courage," he told her, raising up the miniature spoon filled with white powder. She felt the burn in her nostril and the drip in the back of her throat. The same dancer passed by and Lissie grabbed her by the hand.
"You got a VIP room?" Lissie asked, and the dancer smiled from ear-to-ear. She took a step, still holding Lissie's hand. "Wait..." Lissie said, stopping in her tracks. She placed her hand on Albert's shoulder. "Is there room for a friend?"
"Follow me."