Labyrinth ₑX: Crǿss You Out
Feb 6, 2022 12:54:12 GMT -5
Karlie Nash, CJ Phoenix, and 5 more like this
Post by Lissie Hope ♥ on Feb 6, 2022 12:54:12 GMT -5
PLEASE READ PROLOGUE FIRST TODAY | CALIFORNIA “Haven’t seen sunshine in a bit since I’ve been on the east-coast! Thanks for coming on here! ‘Cause lovelies - we gotta have a little chat about our favorite failed Youtuber, Cassidy Adler!” A hand on the wheel, she scrolls the comment section before being pinged with a notification - her eyes light up. “Hi, Emma!” Another new viewer catches her attention. “Hey buddy! On my way!” More comments scroll in. “So Emma and I talk for hours right? About any-and-everything. She’s going to kill me for this - we realized we both started our rag this week. And I was like - did we really bypass the U-Haul-on-the second-date phase and skip straight to syncing our periods? It’s nuts - y’know, how much our vaginas have in common.” Lissie pauses to see Emma’s comment - the hand-on-head emoji ten-times. “Like, they’re super-attracted to each other, right? It’s wonderful! But I also think they share an experience - the great philosopher Dave Chappelle once said that 'every woman’s gotta dick they regret'. And oh-boy, we do! We shared our dick trauma and realized our vaginas got severe PTSD and need therapeutic intervention.” Lissie smiles, watching a number of crying-laughing emojis pouring in. “But our pussies are stronger together than they are apart - so thank you, Cass Adler - for being the perfect kegel exercise, but now I need a fucking industrial-grade Summer’s Eve to cleanse your nasty ass not only from my body and soul - but from Action Wrestling alto-fucking-gether.” Her voice grew in anger and intensity, her lip quivering with vitriol. But her face softens with a smile as she continues. To catch the rest of this thorough depantsing of Cassidy Adler, head on over to my Patreon for $4.99! And if you plug in the code #FuckCassAdler, it’s completely free! So hit that like button - that subscribe button - and T-T-Y-L, my lovelies! Bye-eeeeee!” Veering right, I exited to the Lake Merritt neighborhood in Oakland - following GPS instruction was always difficult for me. I’ve always needed having control, and my wheels being tethered to an electronic voice forced me to give up that control. I had to place my faith in something other than God - and, well, my instincts. It was a long drive, but comfortable - I let the windows down and felt the air. Emma called me for the drive, playfully reprimanding me for the TMI, but she was amused - I’m amazed how different a fun and stable relationship could be in comparison to long droughts of silence with Cassidy. As I neared the destination, I passed several high-rise apartments and gentrified restaurants overlooking a lagoon painted with hues of aqua-and-lime. Robust greenery and plots of parkland neighbored the waters. This is really nice. Pulling into the complex, I entered the elevator, feeling knots in my stomach. After a quick scan, I found his door. He emerged with a walking boot on his ankle. “Hey Johnny. It’s good to see you.” Lissie pulls over and gathers her thoughts. Cars race by, her hair fluttering, and she sits on the trunk of the rental against a beautiful mountain landscape. She begins speaking while overlooking the view. You tried to ruin me, Cass. You saw a girl craving acceptance and you took advantage. Leeching onto me and sucking my blood like a vampire, you managed to survive in a company where you weren’t even wanted, like a roach emerging from an atomic blast. You needed my lifeblood for relevance, because that’s what you desperately crave, isn’t it? Are you even still making that movie? I know you needed my name on the cover, because yours doesn’t move numbers. And this facade of not giving-a-shit about anything is a lie - it’s transparent, Cass. Because you could be so much more; you’re talented, but the world doesn’t know it. You’ve been a proverbial cock-tease your entire career, establishing a pretty great run as a tag-team, and the world watched, and waited, for you to break-through as a singles star. Your dad was watching. Those of us who were really watching - we saw your potential. You nearly shocked the corporate system with a top-ten at Havoc. You got another opportunity to stake your claim, nearly grabbing the All-In briefcase. But you hung your own fucking blood out to dry to do it. And now, your own sister wants nothing to fucking do with you. You pretend you don’t care. But it hurts you more than you let on, Cass. We can be so much alike, and that’s why I was so blinded by you. Nobody wants to be deserted on an island, your friends and family sailing off to leave you to survive on your own. I certainly don’t. And I thought I could bring out of you what you never wanted to reveal - a living, breathing heart that was never given a fair shake. A cocoon of wasted potential. And I fear that Emma is trying to do the same. That she’s latching on to me, wanting me to aspire to be the best in the world again, and I don’t want to let her down. I don’t want to let her down the way you let me down. I saw it way before that night in November when I planted your face on the canvas. When I listened to the crowd scream after realizing I wasn’t going to take your shit anymore. I embarrassed you, and I neutered you, after one last grasp to hang on to the only HOPE you had left in this organization. Maybe there’s a part of me that’s sorry, Cass. Because I did care for you. Even if you were using me for your movie, I think you cared for me a little, too. It’s why you’re still so bothered that I went along and found comfort in Atara after XIII - you try to blow it off, but it’s still on your mind. You want Torture to offer you a chance to stay, but he couldn’t give a fuck about you, either. You used to make me listen to Jay-Z’s “Black Album”. Nagged me incessantly about it - but here’s the thing, Cass. It had the impact it did because even if he didn’t actually retire, people would actually give a shit if he did. You’ve burned your bridges, Cass. I almost did, too - and that feeling of a lifetime of inevitable loneliness is crippling. But you don’t deserve anything but having the bullet tearing through the sky as you wave your white flag of surrender. And I’m on the other end of the scope; my finger on the fucking trigger. A long time ago, you said you’d ruin me - my trajectory, my dignity, and self-worth. You said it would be fun for you. A couple months later, you told me nothing had changed, that the mission was incomplete, but it wasn't fun anymore. And now, after our fun became the laughingstock of Action Wrestling, and after one-last-ditch-effort to finish what you started by breaking glass over my fucking head - I can admit that you came close. I've never felt smaller than I did laying in your bed. So congratulations on that personal achievement, Cassidy - but this final chapter is closing with your foot off the gas. You didn’t finish me off. You gave me perspective. You showed me that I’ll never be buried under your avalanche. I want to learn to love wrestling again. That’s why I’m planting my flag across the world. Why I’m taking in shows from the crowd. But this streetfight? This isn’t about the United States Championship you robbed of me. This isn’t about reigniting my passion for the wrestling industry. This is your curtain call, Cass. Your show is over. Your charade is over. The terror you’ve inflicted on Action Wrestling - and me - is over. I’m leaving you in a mess of blood and piss in the middle of an Action Wrestling ring, and I’m walking away - from you - forever. I need this, Cass. More than anything. I won’t allow our story to end by you leaving me as damaged goods. And you need it, too. You need someone to show you the error of your decisions so you finally have the fucking courage to correct them. After a long list, I’m finally crossing you out. Consider it my parting gift. Now fuck off and die. We stood on the deck of his new apartment overlooking the lagoon. I couldn’t stop smiling, even as the mango-scented smoke from his Juul hovered into my nostrils. He offered me a drag. “This view is incredible.” “It’s a long–" “Don’t you fucking dare-” I said, smiling. “Just… the way the clouds hang over the Bay Bridge.” “That’s why I got this spot. I love that fucking bridge.” “It’s really pretty.” I followed him back into the living room. The coffee table was lined with crushed LaCroix cans. He could see the confusion in my face. “So I’ve got this rule that I can’t drink or get high before 7PM ‘cause there’s literally nothing else to do when you’re recovering, so I go through like a case of Pamplemoose a day.” I must’ve had questions marks bouncing out of my head. “I’ve never pissed clearer in my life.” A pause. “You wanna LaCroix?” “I’ll take a Topo if you’ve got one.” “They were purchased by Coca-Cola -” he paused, allowing me to process. “And don’t you dare ask for a Perrier.” “...why?” “They’re owned by Nestle.” “Somehow, you’re even more pretentious on painkillers.” “Oh honey, this is me sober.” I eyed the medication on his table - even if I experienced it, I was still in denial about how addictive Percocet could be. “I guess you never really saw me truly sober.” “You are now.” I nodded my head and he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I watched him move in the brace - it seemed more uncomfortable than necessary. “I’m proud of ya.” “I needed to mend a lot of fences. I hurt a lot of people.” “And you will – in time. Just gotta be patient.” “I need to stop fucking things up to begin with.” “Probably. But you’re also a shit judge of character who could better filter their friends.” “Like - you?” He snickered and took a swig of his LaCroix. “Do I look like I’d lie to you?” He batted his eyelashes at me and I nodded in agreement. He didn’t sugarcoat anything. “How’s the new boo? It’s not Atara, is it?” “Shut up - I think Emma’s the real deal.” “Yeah but as we established a moment ago, you previously went to bat for Sid Adler.” “I was wrong -” “Mhm. And frankly, the only apology you owe anyone at this point is for dragging that slug onto our television weekly.” “Oh man -” I started, with a snicker. “Imagine his face if he’d actually walked in and seen us-” His hand shot out, placing three fingers on my lips to silence me. “We’re having a great time. Let’s not kill the vibe.” “...sorry. Do you think he’s really going to leave?” “No - he just wants attention.” “But what if he does?” “Who gives a shit? A gaping hole won’t be left in his absence - just another whiny toddler we don’t have to deal with anymore. But he’s not gonna leave – don’t give him what he wants.” “I just want it to be over. This is the last thing I have to do -” I heard keys jangling before the lock turned. Johnny scoffed. “Right on cue, eh?” To my surprise, in walked Mae Ashby. |
