Post by Jill Park on Oct 15, 2021 17:49:31 GMT -5
“Everyone is a hater.”
Jill Park, through exacerbated breath, thumbs through a number of envelopes. Her eyes dart to the right, off-screen.
“Can we just sort through this junk mail so I don’t have to?”
“We probably could, but that’s not junk mail. It’s fan mail. Err..hate mail.” The voice from off-screen replied. Jill rolled her eyes. “Like there’s a difference.” She tossed the few envelopes of “fan mail” behind her. “Somebody clean this up.” She demanded, as she walked into her kitchen. She leaned against the wall as she stared at an empty wine bottle sitting on her kitchen’s island counter.
“All that hate mail reminds me of Kyle Kemp. The parallels are very similar, when you think about it. Kyle Kemp thinks he’s better than everyone. He thinks he’s better than everyone. He thinks he holds all the cards when in reality, I’m the one holding a royal flush. He thinks he knows EVERYTHING, but he’s soon to find out he actually knows nothing at all. He’s playing the game, but I’ve made up the rules.”
Her smartphone rings, and she quickly pulls it from the front pocket of her grey “FightSmarks” hoodie. She slides it open and presses it near her ear.
“Hello?”
…
“Seriously?”
…
“That’s bullshit!”
…
“It’s what? UGH!”
She slid the phone back into her hoodie and stormed out of the room, a second later the sound of a door slamming shut was heard. Shortly after that, the start and revving of an engine.
“Have a seat, Miss Park.”
Jill Park took a moment to gather her surroundings, as she was not familiar here. The eggshell white tone of the wall was meant to comfort and calm, but it achieved neither in this instance. The potted plants seemed ostentatious, and the oil paintings seemed trivial. Finally, Jill slid onto a leather sofa, an aura of discontent exuding from her very being. Even her attire screamed that she was out of her element, as she wore sweatpants and a hoodie.
“Let’s start with introductions. Of course I know a star of your magnitude, Miss Park. I am Doctor Liam Sheppard.”
Jill offered nothing but a stare of indignation towards the doctor. After he allowed enough of a space to realize he wasn’t getting anything further, he continued with a question.
“Why are you here today, Miss Park?”
“Because MTV is FORCING me into having this sham of a therapy session, that’s why.” [i[Her tone was indicative of her feelings towards not only the doctor, but the entire atmosphere around her. Just in case her actual words didn’t quite get that across just enough.
Dr. Sheppard leaned back in his chair for a moment, allowing that answer to permeate.[/i]
“Clearly, there are people that care about your well being, and want to give you help, should you need it.”
“I don’t.” She snapped. The doctor seemed to take note of how quick she was to blurt it out. He looked down at a small notepad momentarily.
“Miss Park, could you please tell me why you think you are here.”
Jill’s eyes darted around the office for a moment, scanning everything in the room except for the face of the doctor. Eventually, she concluded that there was no way out of this, she just had to face it. She looked the doctor square in the eyes, and sighed. She seemed almost defeated as she slid back some more, now laying on the sofa.
“Well…”
“Kyle Kemp believes, like truly believes that he’s better than everyone; that he’s better than me. This indignant asshole actually believes he is better than ME. He thinks he holds all the power here. He thinks he’s in control. But the reality of it all? Heh. The reality is the complete fucking opposite. Since Uprising, since the moment that Kyle Kemp won the All-In briefcase, I’ve been on him, exposing him for the egomaniacal fraud that he is. I took the fight to him, which is something that Kyle Kemp cannot stand. Something that he isn’t used to. I smashed him in the mouth and I kept on coming. When he finally wised up enough to TRY and retaliate, I was ready. You think I was shocked? Nah, Kyle, I’m not as dumb and ditzy as you’d like to think. I was one step ahead the entire damn time, for the last month. You may have come out on top in the ladder match a month ago at Uprising, but I have had your number since. You thought I was going to just slink away in defeat, and you were wrong.
You thought I was going to run and hide after you tried jumping me on Clash, and you were wrong.
You thought you were going to brush me aside and waltz into a World Title match against Carter Shaw, and again: you were wrong.
Let’s face facts, Kyle. You are used to being the puppet master. You are used to playing the mind games and blind-sided attacks nobody sees coming. You are the one who dictates when and where the fights will take place. A master at manipulating people into fighting on YOUR terms. But when it comes to me? You don’t have that luxury. I have out-strategized you. I outmaneuvered you. I have turned the tables; I’ve played Kyle Kemp at his own game.
And it is making you mad.
You can deny it. You can deflect to other things to try and back away from the overwhelming truth of the matter but eventually, you’ll be forced to accept it. At Execution, you’ll be forced to accept it. When you step between the ropes, you won’t have the buffer of 5 other wrestlers like you did a month ago. And when that happens? You won’t have an excuse, Kyle. You won’t have a leg to stand on. You’ll come to the crashing realization that you’ve been running from this entire time.
That Jill Park is better than YOU.”
“The network clearly thinks I’m crazy.” The words spat from her mouth like venom. She likely didn’t even believe them, but she was beyond annoyed with her situation at this moment. As she glared across the room at the doctor, she did not exactly exude positivity, which he surely noted. He peered down at his notepad for a moment, before addressing Jill again.
“Now, I’m sure that’s not the case.”
“Oh, really. You don’t think that’s the case do you? Well, I announce that my sister was in a car accident and all of a sudden I need to go to ‘therapy’ and ‘grieve’.”
Doctor Sheppard snapped his fingers. He thought that maybe, just maybe, that was a small breakthrough. Jill had acknowledged why she was present in this session, at least. He knew he had a limited window, however.
“What is your sister’s name?”
“Caylee.”
“And what are your feelings towards Caylee?”
She shrugged. Certainly, there were no emotions to speak of, at least on the surface. Doctor Sheppard hoped there would be some underneath. It was his job to uncover them.
“Do you feel any feelings or sorrow or sadness over what happened to Caylee?”
The glare returned in Jill’s piercing green eyes. He was playing with fire.
“I mean, I guess.”
Dr. Sheppard smiled at Jill, hoping to diffuse the remaining tension. Her demeanour didn’t really shift, though.
“And how is she now?”
“Nope.”
He was taken aback by the abrupt response.
“Excuse me?”
“I should be saying that to you.” She huffed. “That’s none of your business. You ain’t gonna ask me IF I wanna talk about it? What kind of heavy-handed aggressive bullshit is that?”
She thought about standing and leaving, but refrained for now. She instead leaned forward with yet another glare into the soul of the man across from her. A successful, intelligent man who she made feel insecure about his very being. He may have known how to wade through the powerful waves of the human psyche, but he seemed nervous when pressed by the reality star.
“I apologize.” He finally offered, sheepishly.
“A lot of people seem to have this weird misconception about me.
That I somehow fear this one on one match with Kyle Kemp. After all the posturing, the brutal attacks and verbal barbs, I am afraid of Kyle Kemp.
The people who say this couldn’t be any further from the mark. I challenged Kemp to a match, right off the bat, just weeks after Uprising. He felt that was beneath him. That he had nothing to prove to me, or anyone else. He was Mr. All-In, and that’s all that mattered.
So I took something from Kyle Kemp.
He could have been the number one contender. He could have had a guaranteed shot at Carter Shaw, without using his All-In contract. He could play that in so many ways. He could hold all the cards, as it were. He could just about GUARANTEE a Championship victory. So, really, what I took from Kyle Kemp was much more than a win. It was much more than a number one contendership. I robbed Kyle Kemp of the AW World Heavyweight Championship, and he knows it. That’s why he decided that, finally, Jill Park was worth his time.
But that’s not how it works. I knew the moment the bell rang, and Kyle Kemp’s dreams of headlining Execution with all the power and control intact were destroyed before his very eyes, that he would finally accept.
Which is why I said no. It drove Kemp mad, as you could all plainly see. Because, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention this entire time, that’s how you beat Kyle Kemp. You get under his skin. You get him off of his game. Your frustrate Kyle Kemp. He loses his edge. He loses his cool. His ego is as fragile as his temper. You smash that, and the house of cards that is Kyle Kemp’s psyche comes tumbling down. He makes mistakes, he gets sloppy.
He loses. You saw it with Dandy Divito. You saw it with Johnny Bacchus.
And you’ll all see it with Jill Goddamn Park.”
“I’m sure you do.” Jill shot back at the doctor and he frantically looked at his notes.
“What kind of relationship did you have with your sister?”
This question, much like the previous one posed to her, seemed to set her off. She looked primed to fly off the handle before she stopped, tilted her head slightly, and leaned back in her seat. Dr. Sheppard breathed a little easier.
“That’s kind of hard to quantify.”
Dr. Sheppard leaned forward, his fingers interlocked and resting on his right knee that was crossed over his left leg.
“Try.”
“Well, like I said, it’s difficult.” She paused for a long time. Dr. Sheppard was patient. He allowed her to take all the time she needed to continue her train of thought. His smile remained intact, as did his eye contact with his patient.
“There’s a lot of pain.”
“How so?”
“We never really got along. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. On the show, on wrestling, on just about everything. And, at the very end of it all, before all of this, I alienated her to the point she felt she had no other alternative but to leave me in the rearview. To move on to bigger and better things, without me.”
Here it comes, the stereotypical line he had been holding back on this whole time.
“And how did that make you feel?”
Jill looked down to the floor, before peering back up at the doctor, tears swelling in her eyes.
“Terrible.”
“What nobody really gets is, this may very well be just another match for Kyle Kemp. He has the All-In briefcase. That’s his ace in the hole. That's everything to him. Even if he loses at Execution, he’s still got that. He so desperately wants revenge, but at the end of the day, does it really matter to him? Perhaps he’s got a severely bruised ego, but he can take all the time in the world to allow it time to heal before making his move on Carter Shaw, or whoever else is World Champion by that time.
But for me? After everything that has happened, everything that’s been done and said? If I don’t defeat Kyle Kemp at Execution, there is no tomorrow. It’s do or die time. Everything I've done in Action Wrestling for the past six months has been leading to this single, defining, sink or swim moment.
And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sink.
Many would view this as a position of desperation that I have unnecessarily put myself in. But I don’t see it that way. In the past six months, I have solidified myself as a force in Action Wrestling, not to mention a reality television icon. I carry greater star power than most of the roster, whether they choose to admit to it or not. A man like Kyle Kemp, who has spent years honing his craft to rise to the top of the food chain: and to his credit, is nearly there...is easily surpassed in terms of brand and star power.
You don’t think that makes him mad? Jealous? Of course it does. When Kyle Kemp stomps his feet around like any of the other dime-a-dozen shitlords that inhabit the wrestling industry, it’s not because he’s some bad ass. He wants you to think that, and if you do? Well, you’re already halfway to defeat on your own accord. But like I said before, it’s not real. That’s not the reality of who Kyle Kemp is. He’s a portrait of a bygone era of this business. A creeper lurking in the shadows that so desperately wants to return to the carny days of professional wrestling.
So when someone like me bursts through the door with all the talent, marketability, AND fame, right off the hop? He can’t stand it. He might refuse to admit it, but he knows.
Just like Frank Patrick Venable knew.
Just like Quixote Della Torre knew.
Just like those greats, who crumbled at my feet, Kyle Kemp knows the sand in his hourglass is nearly depleted. He can get mad about it, he can try to treat me as if I weren’t a threat to him, or that I’m just chasing clout, or whatever lie he cooks up in that twisted mind of his as he rolls out of bed every morning. That, in itself, is the most piercing dagger he could receive, once he chooses to realize it.
Once he chooses to realize that the era he so wishes to revitalize and BE, it’s over. He may have won at Uprising, he may have the All-In briefcase in his possession. But it won’t matter.
Kyle Kemp won’t matter.
Like every other supposed ‘star’ that has crumbled beneath my boot, he will be exposed. After all, it won’t be Jill Park that wasn’t ready. It wasn’t me that was talking out of turn and aiming too high. As much as the legions of Action Wrestling fans so badly want it to be. It will be you, Kyle Kemp. The glorious leader of The Following. The puppet master. The ultimate manipulator.
Will be shown to be nothing but smoke, mirrors, and luck. You got lucky at Uprising, but when it’s just us, alone in that ring, there will be no such luck. There will be just the crushing reality that Kyle Kemp isn’t better. Kyle Kemp doesn’t hold all the cards, and he doesn’t have anything resembling control. Kyle Kemp is just a man that took something from me. The last man do to that, I beat and embarrassed so badly he CRIED in the middle of the ring and quite literally gave up.
Do you, Kemp, think this story will play out any different?
Well, of course you do, you carny asshole. You think everything is owed to you, just like the others did. You think just because you speak, others will listen. But, at the end of the night, when the final bell tolls, all anyone will be listening to is my music. I’ve got my sights set on you, Kyle, with one in the chamber.
When I set my sights on someone, I pull the fucking trigger.”
Both parties stood in silence for what seemed like hours. Realistically, it had probably only been like five minutes. It still felt like an eternity to Jill Park. She had carefully crafted the on-air persona that fans across the globe have come to know and despise. A persona that seemingly cared for no one and nothing. That stood for her own success and little else. However, that wasn’t what was on display for Dr. Sheppard. What he saw was a young lady folding under the pressure of fame. A story as old as the concept of celebrity was. He would bet money on it. She refused to admit to it, but it was as clear as day, he thought.
“Let me ask you again, Jillian.” He began. The look she thought over wasn’t one of anger or malice, but one of hopefulness. Her guard seemed to be finally lowered. For the first time in an hour, Dr. Sheppard truly believed they were on even footing. “How do you feel about what happened to Caylee?”
Jill’s eyes darted away from the doctor, frantically. They searched for an escape, much like they had earlier, but would find no such reprieve. Her eyes finally met the doctor’s again, and she showed no hostility now. She exhaled deeply, running her right hand through her hair.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it’s nice to finally admit it.”
The doctor nodded along. “Go ahead, Jillian.”
“It was all fake.”
She was deadpan; serious. She offered nothing else, but a blank stare at the doctor.
“What?”
Jill Park, through exacerbated breath, thumbs through a number of envelopes. Her eyes dart to the right, off-screen.
“Can we just sort through this junk mail so I don’t have to?”
“We probably could, but that’s not junk mail. It’s fan mail. Err..hate mail.” The voice from off-screen replied. Jill rolled her eyes. “Like there’s a difference.” She tossed the few envelopes of “fan mail” behind her. “Somebody clean this up.” She demanded, as she walked into her kitchen. She leaned against the wall as she stared at an empty wine bottle sitting on her kitchen’s island counter.
“All that hate mail reminds me of Kyle Kemp. The parallels are very similar, when you think about it. Kyle Kemp thinks he’s better than everyone. He thinks he’s better than everyone. He thinks he holds all the cards when in reality, I’m the one holding a royal flush. He thinks he knows EVERYTHING, but he’s soon to find out he actually knows nothing at all. He’s playing the game, but I’ve made up the rules.”
Her smartphone rings, and she quickly pulls it from the front pocket of her grey “FightSmarks” hoodie. She slides it open and presses it near her ear.
“Hello?”
…
“Seriously?”
…
“That’s bullshit!”
…
“It’s what? UGH!”
She slid the phone back into her hoodie and stormed out of the room, a second later the sound of a door slamming shut was heard. Shortly after that, the start and revving of an engine.
“Have a seat, Miss Park.”
Jill Park took a moment to gather her surroundings, as she was not familiar here. The eggshell white tone of the wall was meant to comfort and calm, but it achieved neither in this instance. The potted plants seemed ostentatious, and the oil paintings seemed trivial. Finally, Jill slid onto a leather sofa, an aura of discontent exuding from her very being. Even her attire screamed that she was out of her element, as she wore sweatpants and a hoodie.
“Let’s start with introductions. Of course I know a star of your magnitude, Miss Park. I am Doctor Liam Sheppard.”
Jill offered nothing but a stare of indignation towards the doctor. After he allowed enough of a space to realize he wasn’t getting anything further, he continued with a question.
“Why are you here today, Miss Park?”
“Because MTV is FORCING me into having this sham of a therapy session, that’s why.” [i[Her tone was indicative of her feelings towards not only the doctor, but the entire atmosphere around her. Just in case her actual words didn’t quite get that across just enough.
Dr. Sheppard leaned back in his chair for a moment, allowing that answer to permeate.[/i]
“Clearly, there are people that care about your well being, and want to give you help, should you need it.”
“I don’t.” She snapped. The doctor seemed to take note of how quick she was to blurt it out. He looked down at a small notepad momentarily.
“Miss Park, could you please tell me why you think you are here.”
Jill’s eyes darted around the office for a moment, scanning everything in the room except for the face of the doctor. Eventually, she concluded that there was no way out of this, she just had to face it. She looked the doctor square in the eyes, and sighed. She seemed almost defeated as she slid back some more, now laying on the sofa.
“Well…”
“Kyle Kemp believes, like truly believes that he’s better than everyone; that he’s better than me. This indignant asshole actually believes he is better than ME. He thinks he holds all the power here. He thinks he’s in control. But the reality of it all? Heh. The reality is the complete fucking opposite. Since Uprising, since the moment that Kyle Kemp won the All-In briefcase, I’ve been on him, exposing him for the egomaniacal fraud that he is. I took the fight to him, which is something that Kyle Kemp cannot stand. Something that he isn’t used to. I smashed him in the mouth and I kept on coming. When he finally wised up enough to TRY and retaliate, I was ready. You think I was shocked? Nah, Kyle, I’m not as dumb and ditzy as you’d like to think. I was one step ahead the entire damn time, for the last month. You may have come out on top in the ladder match a month ago at Uprising, but I have had your number since. You thought I was going to just slink away in defeat, and you were wrong.
You thought I was going to run and hide after you tried jumping me on Clash, and you were wrong.
You thought you were going to brush me aside and waltz into a World Title match against Carter Shaw, and again: you were wrong.
Let’s face facts, Kyle. You are used to being the puppet master. You are used to playing the mind games and blind-sided attacks nobody sees coming. You are the one who dictates when and where the fights will take place. A master at manipulating people into fighting on YOUR terms. But when it comes to me? You don’t have that luxury. I have out-strategized you. I outmaneuvered you. I have turned the tables; I’ve played Kyle Kemp at his own game.
And it is making you mad.
You can deny it. You can deflect to other things to try and back away from the overwhelming truth of the matter but eventually, you’ll be forced to accept it. At Execution, you’ll be forced to accept it. When you step between the ropes, you won’t have the buffer of 5 other wrestlers like you did a month ago. And when that happens? You won’t have an excuse, Kyle. You won’t have a leg to stand on. You’ll come to the crashing realization that you’ve been running from this entire time.
That Jill Park is better than YOU.”
“The network clearly thinks I’m crazy.” The words spat from her mouth like venom. She likely didn’t even believe them, but she was beyond annoyed with her situation at this moment. As she glared across the room at the doctor, she did not exactly exude positivity, which he surely noted. He peered down at his notepad for a moment, before addressing Jill again.
“Now, I’m sure that’s not the case.”
“Oh, really. You don’t think that’s the case do you? Well, I announce that my sister was in a car accident and all of a sudden I need to go to ‘therapy’ and ‘grieve’.”
Doctor Sheppard snapped his fingers. He thought that maybe, just maybe, that was a small breakthrough. Jill had acknowledged why she was present in this session, at least. He knew he had a limited window, however.
“What is your sister’s name?”
“Caylee.”
“And what are your feelings towards Caylee?”
She shrugged. Certainly, there were no emotions to speak of, at least on the surface. Doctor Sheppard hoped there would be some underneath. It was his job to uncover them.
“Do you feel any feelings or sorrow or sadness over what happened to Caylee?”
The glare returned in Jill’s piercing green eyes. He was playing with fire.
“I mean, I guess.”
Dr. Sheppard smiled at Jill, hoping to diffuse the remaining tension. Her demeanour didn’t really shift, though.
“And how is she now?”
“Nope.”
He was taken aback by the abrupt response.
“Excuse me?”
“I should be saying that to you.” She huffed. “That’s none of your business. You ain’t gonna ask me IF I wanna talk about it? What kind of heavy-handed aggressive bullshit is that?”
She thought about standing and leaving, but refrained for now. She instead leaned forward with yet another glare into the soul of the man across from her. A successful, intelligent man who she made feel insecure about his very being. He may have known how to wade through the powerful waves of the human psyche, but he seemed nervous when pressed by the reality star.
“I apologize.” He finally offered, sheepishly.
“A lot of people seem to have this weird misconception about me.
That I somehow fear this one on one match with Kyle Kemp. After all the posturing, the brutal attacks and verbal barbs, I am afraid of Kyle Kemp.
The people who say this couldn’t be any further from the mark. I challenged Kemp to a match, right off the bat, just weeks after Uprising. He felt that was beneath him. That he had nothing to prove to me, or anyone else. He was Mr. All-In, and that’s all that mattered.
So I took something from Kyle Kemp.
He could have been the number one contender. He could have had a guaranteed shot at Carter Shaw, without using his All-In contract. He could play that in so many ways. He could hold all the cards, as it were. He could just about GUARANTEE a Championship victory. So, really, what I took from Kyle Kemp was much more than a win. It was much more than a number one contendership. I robbed Kyle Kemp of the AW World Heavyweight Championship, and he knows it. That’s why he decided that, finally, Jill Park was worth his time.
But that’s not how it works. I knew the moment the bell rang, and Kyle Kemp’s dreams of headlining Execution with all the power and control intact were destroyed before his very eyes, that he would finally accept.
Which is why I said no. It drove Kemp mad, as you could all plainly see. Because, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention this entire time, that’s how you beat Kyle Kemp. You get under his skin. You get him off of his game. Your frustrate Kyle Kemp. He loses his edge. He loses his cool. His ego is as fragile as his temper. You smash that, and the house of cards that is Kyle Kemp’s psyche comes tumbling down. He makes mistakes, he gets sloppy.
He loses. You saw it with Dandy Divito. You saw it with Johnny Bacchus.
And you’ll all see it with Jill Goddamn Park.”
“I’m sure you do.” Jill shot back at the doctor and he frantically looked at his notes.
“What kind of relationship did you have with your sister?”
This question, much like the previous one posed to her, seemed to set her off. She looked primed to fly off the handle before she stopped, tilted her head slightly, and leaned back in her seat. Dr. Sheppard breathed a little easier.
“That’s kind of hard to quantify.”
Dr. Sheppard leaned forward, his fingers interlocked and resting on his right knee that was crossed over his left leg.
“Try.”
“Well, like I said, it’s difficult.” She paused for a long time. Dr. Sheppard was patient. He allowed her to take all the time she needed to continue her train of thought. His smile remained intact, as did his eye contact with his patient.
“There’s a lot of pain.”
“How so?”
“We never really got along. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. On the show, on wrestling, on just about everything. And, at the very end of it all, before all of this, I alienated her to the point she felt she had no other alternative but to leave me in the rearview. To move on to bigger and better things, without me.”
Here it comes, the stereotypical line he had been holding back on this whole time.
“And how did that make you feel?”
Jill looked down to the floor, before peering back up at the doctor, tears swelling in her eyes.
“Terrible.”
“What nobody really gets is, this may very well be just another match for Kyle Kemp. He has the All-In briefcase. That’s his ace in the hole. That's everything to him. Even if he loses at Execution, he’s still got that. He so desperately wants revenge, but at the end of the day, does it really matter to him? Perhaps he’s got a severely bruised ego, but he can take all the time in the world to allow it time to heal before making his move on Carter Shaw, or whoever else is World Champion by that time.
But for me? After everything that has happened, everything that’s been done and said? If I don’t defeat Kyle Kemp at Execution, there is no tomorrow. It’s do or die time. Everything I've done in Action Wrestling for the past six months has been leading to this single, defining, sink or swim moment.
And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sink.
Many would view this as a position of desperation that I have unnecessarily put myself in. But I don’t see it that way. In the past six months, I have solidified myself as a force in Action Wrestling, not to mention a reality television icon. I carry greater star power than most of the roster, whether they choose to admit to it or not. A man like Kyle Kemp, who has spent years honing his craft to rise to the top of the food chain: and to his credit, is nearly there...is easily surpassed in terms of brand and star power.
You don’t think that makes him mad? Jealous? Of course it does. When Kyle Kemp stomps his feet around like any of the other dime-a-dozen shitlords that inhabit the wrestling industry, it’s not because he’s some bad ass. He wants you to think that, and if you do? Well, you’re already halfway to defeat on your own accord. But like I said before, it’s not real. That’s not the reality of who Kyle Kemp is. He’s a portrait of a bygone era of this business. A creeper lurking in the shadows that so desperately wants to return to the carny days of professional wrestling.
So when someone like me bursts through the door with all the talent, marketability, AND fame, right off the hop? He can’t stand it. He might refuse to admit it, but he knows.
Just like Frank Patrick Venable knew.
Just like Quixote Della Torre knew.
Just like those greats, who crumbled at my feet, Kyle Kemp knows the sand in his hourglass is nearly depleted. He can get mad about it, he can try to treat me as if I weren’t a threat to him, or that I’m just chasing clout, or whatever lie he cooks up in that twisted mind of his as he rolls out of bed every morning. That, in itself, is the most piercing dagger he could receive, once he chooses to realize it.
Once he chooses to realize that the era he so wishes to revitalize and BE, it’s over. He may have won at Uprising, he may have the All-In briefcase in his possession. But it won’t matter.
Kyle Kemp won’t matter.
Like every other supposed ‘star’ that has crumbled beneath my boot, he will be exposed. After all, it won’t be Jill Park that wasn’t ready. It wasn’t me that was talking out of turn and aiming too high. As much as the legions of Action Wrestling fans so badly want it to be. It will be you, Kyle Kemp. The glorious leader of The Following. The puppet master. The ultimate manipulator.
Will be shown to be nothing but smoke, mirrors, and luck. You got lucky at Uprising, but when it’s just us, alone in that ring, there will be no such luck. There will be just the crushing reality that Kyle Kemp isn’t better. Kyle Kemp doesn’t hold all the cards, and he doesn’t have anything resembling control. Kyle Kemp is just a man that took something from me. The last man do to that, I beat and embarrassed so badly he CRIED in the middle of the ring and quite literally gave up.
Do you, Kemp, think this story will play out any different?
Well, of course you do, you carny asshole. You think everything is owed to you, just like the others did. You think just because you speak, others will listen. But, at the end of the night, when the final bell tolls, all anyone will be listening to is my music. I’ve got my sights set on you, Kyle, with one in the chamber.
When I set my sights on someone, I pull the fucking trigger.”
Both parties stood in silence for what seemed like hours. Realistically, it had probably only been like five minutes. It still felt like an eternity to Jill Park. She had carefully crafted the on-air persona that fans across the globe have come to know and despise. A persona that seemingly cared for no one and nothing. That stood for her own success and little else. However, that wasn’t what was on display for Dr. Sheppard. What he saw was a young lady folding under the pressure of fame. A story as old as the concept of celebrity was. He would bet money on it. She refused to admit to it, but it was as clear as day, he thought.
“Let me ask you again, Jillian.” He began. The look she thought over wasn’t one of anger or malice, but one of hopefulness. Her guard seemed to be finally lowered. For the first time in an hour, Dr. Sheppard truly believed they were on even footing. “How do you feel about what happened to Caylee?”
Jill’s eyes darted away from the doctor, frantically. They searched for an escape, much like they had earlier, but would find no such reprieve. Her eyes finally met the doctor’s again, and she showed no hostility now. She exhaled deeply, running her right hand through her hair.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it’s nice to finally admit it.”
The doctor nodded along. “Go ahead, Jillian.”
“It was all fake.”
She was deadpan; serious. She offered nothing else, but a blank stare at the doctor.
“What?”