Labyrinth VIII: Penance (2 of 3)
Dec 3, 2021 19:22:24 GMT -5
Karlie Nash, CJ Phoenix, and 5 more like this
Post by Lissie Hope ♥ on Dec 3, 2021 19:22:24 GMT -5
“You really hurt me, you know?” “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But still - I can’t leave this town until I’ve asked for it.” _____ 11 - 11 The Crescent Moon | Lincoln, Nebraska The steam from my Americano billowed from the cup as I twirled the stirrer around the glass. In his, he nervously poured in the sugar. When the sunlight peaked in through the wooden door-frame of the Crescent Moon every time a patron entered, or a staff member exited to tend to the guests enjoying brisk late fall weather, I could see my reflection in his sunglasses. It felt eerie since I’d been feeling like a ghost for so long. But he was also a ghost to me, going through the motions after my betrayal, until I watched him leave Detroit, never looking back. I’ve missed you so much, Howie. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he sealed them shut. His lips quivered as he lifted the glass, the burn of the coffee jolting him. How’s everything? How’s your wife? Your son? Why are you here, Lissie? His voice deepened, the sharp words cutting through me like a split-tongued viper. What did you call me for? Just to play this performative charade we’ve always played, pretending we’re long-lost friends just catching up? I’m sorry, Howie, I don’t mean to impose. I just wanted to see you. Why? What do you want from me? I’ve moved on from Action Wrestling. I don’t need you coming here to complicate the life I’m building. The seething anger in his voice was palpable. I don’t know why I expected any differently. You made your choice in March, Lissie. I made the wrong choice. You’re just now realizing it? After everything you heard? Everything you saw? I hope it’s not too late. No, Lissie. Now? You have to live with it. I have been. And I’m trying to correct it. I left them. They were my only support, Howie - but I took my future into my own hands. Like you did. I watched him take another sip of coffee, and the background noises seemed to dissipate, as if we were the only two in the room. I wasn’t going to let them use me anymore. Manipulate me. Be their hired gun. I sold my soul - That was worlds ago, Lissie. - and I want to get back to that world. Listen - He leaned in close. I was transfixed by his eyes - just like I always was. - you can’t snap your fingers and make it all go away. You really hurt me, you know? I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But still - I can’t leave this town until I’ve asked for it. I watched his eyes soften, his voice cracking. His fingers shook as he wrapped his palm around the cup. Every instinct told me not to, but my hand gravitated towards his and I placed my fingers on his cold flesh. He was startled, nearly tipping the cup over. Backing out of his stool, he glared at me, and his words bristled with embittered aggravation. Don’t you dare. He moved towards the exit, with every patron sitting at the bar turning to look at the commotion. I could sense that he was feeling isolated, like his back was against the wall - as if I had lured him to this establishment, angered him enough, drew the attention, and as if I'd sic the dogs on him. I couldn’t blame him for feeling this way - it’s all he could ever remember of me. I already walked away from you once. He couldn’t remember the good things. He couldn’t remember dancing to Damien Rice. He couldn’t remember standing at the base of the gigantic painting, philosophizing our existence. He couldn’t remember holding my hand as I laid in a hospital bed. And I’ll do it again if I have to. Howard believed in me again - before anyone else did. Before my fans. Before my friends. Before Philidor Holdings. And I let him down. But he wasn’t the only one.
I want to change, Howie. But I don’t know how. Do you? __________ I switched from Americano to Wild Turkey. The men in the bar saw a woman who just had an intense conversation and was left alone, and a couple had swooped in to try and be the savior - but constantly looking for safety and protection had just grown exhausting. I stepped out onto the patio to get some fresh air. I didn’t expect to see him there, the ashtray littered with several stubbed cigarettes. Cautiously, I approached, seating myself across from him. I thought you left. I probably should’ve. I reached over and pulled a cigarette from his pack. He lit it for me, cupping my hand. These things will kill us someday. There’s a lot of things we do that aren’t good for us. But we do them anyway. Like that? His eyes veered down to my drink. I curled inward, squeezing the neck of my sweater tight across my neck. I want to change, Howie. But I don’t know how. Do you? Change is terrifying. Be honest with yourself. He grabbed my hand and pulled my arm close, running my sleeve up my arm, exposing the things I keep concealed. You keep picking at these two-year-old scabs, Lissie, because you’re afraid to heal. Do you even want to? Of course I do. Are you sure? I twirled the glass in my fingers, watching it swirl with the ice. I wanted to taste that burn. I wanted to feel it bounce in my cheeks and careen down my throat. And I know he wanted me to take the glass and throw out the contents - but instead, I ripped my hand from him, dropped my sleeve, and took a drink instead. I’m going to fix myself, Howie. I swallowed another mouthful, and then emptied the Turkey into the grass. But I’m doing it for me. Not for you. Howie smiled, for the first time this afternoon. I need to know what it’s like to stand on my own two feet for once in my life. My voice amplified, but he was more than willing to listen. Help me figure out what I’m doing here in Lincoln besides making amends with you. He still watched me in silence. Please, Howie. After a long drag, he finally spoke. What can I do to help you? I was hoping you could tell me. “Until I knew better, I couldn’t do better.” Philidor Holdings have been a significant part of my life this year. That is no secret to anyone who’s been watching. A year ago, almost to the day, I was laid up in Mercy Hospital in Miami, with needles in every vein, with monitors on every organ - and I needed somebody - anybody - to believe that I could survive. Unfortunately, I ignored the one person who could’ve helped. And I blindly followed another, believed in everything she sold me. I’m always more gratified when I have a purpose - a goal - a sense of achievement. And their objectives became my objectives, and we’ve left broken bodies and shattered hearts in our wake. And that’s on me. I’m sorry, Corey Black. Before I set foot in Action Wrestling, I had your pictures in my scrapbooks. Your posters on my wall. I admired you greatly; you had built a career that skyrocketed before I even knew what professional wrestling was. But I’m studious, and pliable, and you shaped me without even knowing it. I’m a progeny of the Last King, even if you can’t bear to look me in the eye after what I did to you. For that, I’m sorry. I needed to make a lasting impact. I needed to prove my loyalty to the people who lifted me up when I couldn’t stand on my own two feet. They were my crutch, a cast for a ruptured soul, a suture for a blackened heart far beyond repair. I’m not justifying my actions; I’m just offering momentary clarity, for whatever that may be worth. Life is so fragile, isn’t it? Legacies are so delicate. You can be at the zenith of the mountain one day and covered by the avalanche the next. No matter how hard you compete, no matter how much you deliver - there will always be someone willing to pull you down into the muck with them. And the clock’s been ticking. I have to answer for my transgressions. I have to make things right. And I’m not running or hiding from the reaper, and I’m not ever going to deny my culpability. I know you’ve been waiting to dole out my punishment. There are consequences for everything we do - and I’m telling you right now, Corey, that I accept them. You’re going to hurt me. But you’re not going to beat me. I don’t fear you. I might’ve, once, but not anymore. I’ve been running from my issues my entire life, and like a wanderer in the woods without a compass, I’ve ended up right where I began. But I can’t run from all of my demons for the rest of my life - not anymore - because my demons have chased me here. To this point. And I’ve learned that I can turn on my heels and face them. And fight them. And defeat them. Because this isn’t the end of my journey; this is the beginning of one. The beginning of the rest of my life. The next chapter in the great story of Action Wrestling superstar Lissie fuckin’ Hope. This story couldn’t have been written any other way, My sponsorship with Philidor Holdings started with you when I planted my flag in the middle of the Battlefield. I put you down, and you never saw me coming. And I’ve been proud of it, I took pleasure in facilitating the end of the promise of a great reign by the King of All Wrestlers. You spent months circling the drain, never sniffing the World Championship since. You spent the last eight months trying to reestablish your name across the globe, taking matches with the best the wrestling world had to offer. The big money that comes with a James Raven, a Dickie Watson - being the marquee name on a charity cruise - that was your consolation prize for being pushed out of the Action Wrestling hierarchy for the first time in your career. We were a bridge you couldn’t cross, and now, you’re taking out all of your frustration on me. But I’m not the enemy, Corey. I was a cog in the machine. A piece in the puzzle. Your misdirected anger is going to be your downfall. You’re walking into this match with revenge on your mind. You want my head on a pike, you want me strung from the gallows. And I’m not saying I don’t deserve it, that I haven’t earned your blood lust. I’m only saying that it’s a distraction, that it’s misguided - take it from me, revenge is blinding. I can REPENT for my sins till the end of my days, but it’s not you I need to answer to. You might be the Last King, but you’re not my God. And that’s why you’re stepping into this match unfocused and ill-prepared. For you, this is the final reckoning of my actions that deprived you of something cosmetic, an accolade to accessorize your royal garb - something ego-driven and manufactured. For me? This is my final reckoning of putting to pasture an iteration of the Blackheart that I’m not proud of. We both want her buried in the soil. But your reasons are futile. Mine will define my existence. I’ve wished for the love of another, to live the life with a white picket fence and the little ones oohing-and-awwing seeing my face in the magazines, staring in wonder at the trophies on my mantle. But after everything I’ve been through, I’ve come to accept that tomorrow is never promised. I don’t know if people can change. But I choose to believe that they can. Because if people can’t, then what’s the fucking point? Lissie, if I could snap my fingers, and change just one thing, what would it be? I… don’t know. Just one thing in your life - and have it be different - what would you like? I want to be respected again. I want to be loved. I just want to be happy with who I see in the mirror. You don’t like who you see? I grew quiet, shaking my head negatively. What about yourself aren’t you happy with? I don’t - I grew anxious and unsettled, pacing in my chair, my head whipping side to side to monitor my surroundings. - I dont think I can do this. Not with you. If not me, then who, Lissie? I know you. I see you. But “that was worlds ago.” It’s not. I still see you, Lissie. And I see someone who’s incredibly sad. Who’s deeply insecure. Who’s skittish and nervous. How observant. And you don’t have to be. It’s me, Lissie. You can be real with me. You saw me at my worst. Exactly. And I watched you pull through. Did I? Of course. And you will again. You see something in me that I'm too scared to see myself. And you need to hold onto it - with everything you've got. I didn’t want to, but I started to cry. He pulled my sleeve over my hand and raised it up to my cheek, assisting me in drying them off. I could only chuckle at the handsome smile staring back at me. But my expression soured. I threw it all away, Howie. Threw what away? My integrity. Then earn it back. How? That’s for you to find out, Lissie. I can’t give you that answer. Howard rose from his chair, stubbing out his cigarette. I accept your apology, Lissie. With a smile, he continued. And I forgive you. I buried my head in my hands, letting my tears falls into my palms. He slid the pack of Parliament over towards me, letting go of his own stress reliever. When I reached for them, I noticed my tears slide off my flesh. I’m like water in your hands, Howard. What do you mean? You want to hold me - shield me - protect me - I stood and got inches from his face, fixing his bent collar. But I’m always going to fall through. He moved my hands from his collar, but surprised me when he kissed my cheek. Prove everyone wrong, Lissie. He backpedaled away from me as the sun began to set over his shoulder. Howie, wait. A pause. I lo- He raised a finger up. If you need anything, you can call me anytime. I watched Howard get into his vehicle and drive away.
|
