the Top of the World | the Bottom of Everything
Jun 1, 2022 8:32:18 GMT -5
Addy A, Max f'n Daemon, and 3 more like this
Post by Lissie Hope ♥ on Jun 1, 2022 8:32:18 GMT -5
LAST NIGHT I remember walking to the CU:LT ring to face Jaka in the Dog Collar Match, but my brain erased every memory from the moment the collar was cinched around my neck. Following the event, I retreated back to the confines of my rental home. I was staying outside of the strip, a cozy bungalow in the quiet, quaint Lakes neighborhood in the upper northeast of the city, far removed from the dangers and debauchery and temptation of inner Las Vegas. I couldn’t be around it, for my own health and my own safety, especially alone. But I wasn’t alone, not anymore. I had asked Him to be my support, in and out of the ring, and he obliged. But I can’t remember the car ride back to the home I rented. I don’t remember why I have dried blood on my collarbone. The inside of my mouth burned, and I could still taste the salty blood trickling out of the open wound. My memory pulses in and out like a strobelight. I vaguely remember marching up the ramp at the conclusion of the match, my head buzzing like it was full of bees,, but I don’t remember if my hand was raised in victory. I remember stepping through the curtain and being bathed in LED lights, but I don’t remember if I cried in agony and defeat or out of pride and catharsis. I don’t remember if I received immediate medical attention, but I remember that He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and guided me past the backstage personnel. I remember Casanova English’s sinister smile standing at the top of the ramp, but I don’t remember what he decided to announce. But I do remember His voice cutting through the commotion. “Get the fuck out of the way!” “Give her some fucking room!” The brain is a mystifying organ. It wasn’t until He walked me through the door that anything came back into focus. It wasn’t until I heard the lock turn that I felt safe and secure in my temporary home. I felt itchy and dirty, bruised and sore under his jacket, but I don’t remember when or if He wrapped it around me. I removed the jacket and my knees buckled as I cradled it into my arms, sobbing into the sleeve. I pushed the fabric into my face and let out a guttural scream; thankfully, I didn’t have an adjoining neighbor who would hear my muffled cries and call down to security. His arms wrapped around me to guide me to my knees, breaking the fall. “Did I win?” I finally managed to ask, tearfully. “Does it matter?” I nodded my head in realization and slowly climbed back to my feet. He led me to the bathroom, turning the faucet for me. He stood back and watched as I cupped the cold water in my hands and drenched my face. I needed to feel clean again, but this was insufficient. I pulled up my shirt sleeve and began to wipe the crusted blood from my arm. I exposed my torso, pressing my tender belly, feeling the busted blood vessels underneath. Wincing in pain, I started to remove my shirt, and He turned his head - “I’m here if you need anything.” - and I nodded in appreciation as the door closed behind him. The cold water cascaded around the curves of my body, feeling like tiny pins stabbing every inch of my flesh. But I watched the sweat and tears and dirt and blood pool at my feet before circling into the drain, and I felt immediate relief. There’s something energizing and cathartic about a cold shower after a brutal match. I exited, feeling the tile under the soles of my feet, and found a neatly folded change of clothing on the sink. With a smile, I wrapped myself in a bath sheet and turned the knob. “Johnny?” I called out, peaking my head out, smelling the aroma of the fresh coffee he had thoughtfully prepared for me. My nose tickled with the sensation as I moved towards the kitchenette. But Johnny was gone.
 “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I had a feeling you’d be up here,” I answered, feeling the chill of the night air. I curled my arms into my body for warmth, still enveloped by the cries of excitement surrounding us. I spoke a little louder. “I didn’t realize you were going to leave so quickly.” His eyes stayed out on the city – he was leaning forward against the railing, and the cigarette dangled loosely in his left hand. “Wanted to give you some privacy,” he replied after taking a drag, his own voice maintaining its usual volume and not attempting to rise above the din. “So thoughtful,” I teased, elbowing him playfully. “Thanks for the coffee. I stepped out so fast that I forgot to bring it. I wanted you to stay a little longer -” I paused as I weighed the heaviness of what he did for me. “- and I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to be there for me tonight.” I turned to look in his eyes, but he never shifted his focus to me. “And I appreciate it.” He looked at me now, though only through a turn of the head. He gave a polite smile, but I could tell there was something wrong. It was in his eyes – he looked so sad. It wasn’t the Johnny I knew, not even the gloomier and more fatigued one I’d seen manifest over the past month. “Of course, Tiger,” he finally replied, “Anything for you. Started in the stands, always funny to revisit being in them.” “Man, what a turn of events,” I said with a laugh. “Now we’re going to be across the ring from each other for the foreseeable future.“ Johnny got quiet and leaned a little further over the ledge. I instinctively grabbed his waist. “Don’t do that,” I said with fear and urgency. “It’s a long w–” I caught myself and scoffed, a flustered half-smile spreading across my lips. He turned on his heels and placed his elbows on the railing. Suddenly, we were chest to chest with my arms around him – I let go and stepped back. I could feel my cheeks get warm. “C’mere,” he said and beckoned me back to the railing. I stepped forward hesitantly, the feeling of vertigo already welling up in my chest. His arm slid around my shoulders, and while I hesitated to look, I felt his hot breath on my neck and ear. “Trust me.” I swallowed my nerves, and then I looked where he pointed, just past the railing the roof of the Strat dropped – four feet before coming to a cleverly concealed ledge and a far taller safety fence just beyond. “It’s all smoke and mirrors here,” he whispered in my ear, “This city can only hurt you if you’re afraid of it.” “It’s hurt me before,” I admitted, feeling my eyes beginning to moisten. “And it still scares me sometimes.” I felt his grip tighten around my shoulders as my eyes veered off into the distance. I could see the High Roller Ferris Wheel rotating, and I remembered the first and only time I rode on it. “There’s no exhilaration without a little bit of fear,” he whispered into my ear, recounting back an old adage I’ve centered several promos around. I smiled, watching those riding plunge slowly towards the earth. For as many times as I’ve been in Vegas, I’ve never really indulged in the tourist attractions. But that one held a special memory. “I rode that before,” I said, pointing at the ride. Johnny adjusted his stance, showing his interest. “I rode it with the first girl I ever loved,” I paused. “Sage.” “What happened with her?” he asked, curiously. “She was the first time I chose wrestling over love,” I answered quietly. “It seems like that’s the story of my life, over and over again, huh?” I watched as the ferris wheel ended its ride, and one by one each pair was released. “You can grow. You can get smarter. Wiser. But it’s a revolving door of different people sitting next to you,” I paused, my voice breaking. “But the ride is always the same.” I shook Sage and Emma from my conscience, turning to look at Johnny with a grin on my face. “Thank you again, J. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He didn’t return the smile – in fact, his expression darkened. He looked back at the skyline. “Mae has asked me to quit wrestling after Evolution.” “3– 2– 1” said a voice on the intercom, as the coaster on the top of the Strat prepared for launch. The chorus of screams got louder as the riders were dropped into the night sky. I didn’t ingest the magnitude of what he had just told me; it hadn’t registered fully. It wasn’t until I looked into his sad and tired eyes that it hit me. “Wait… what?” “Thinks I should go back to school. She’s unhappy, and she says I’m unhappy. She thinks this business is eating me alive and we can have a quieter life with less scrutiny,” he said almost monotonously. I felt my eyes begin to well up. I turned away from him, attempting to process exactly what he was telling me. I felt my mouth dry, and my heart rise up in my throat - the same way I felt when I rode the High Roller before I went All-In. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?” I said, a tinge of anger in my words. “As opposed to spending my time on the road, waking up in random hotels alone? No friends, no family – just fleeting destinations and a bunch of carbon dumped into the atmosphere to get me between them? All the shitty looks in the back – the contempt of people like Dan and Dion, and the antagonism of Jill Park? Only to have Spencer Adams call me a bitch? Why the fuck would I stay?” “Fuck them,” I interrupted. “All of them. What about your fans? You know you still have people who look up to you and admire you.” “I didn’t ask to be the heart of Action Wrestling,” he said with an air of contempt, “And they don’t seem to particularly want me to be anymore. It’s a mutual break-up. I can only be strong for so many people before I need to be strong for myself.” “What about being strong for your teammate?” I choked out in desperation, unwilling to mention her by name. “What if you win?” “I’ll stay the course until I fulfill my obligations. I haven’t spoken to Ash yet, but Olive offered me an out several weeks ago. I turned it down, but that was before the recent development. She understands, and so would Ash.” “I don’t,” I asserted, the words practically choking out, until I could only continue at barely a whisper, “What about me, Johnny?” He took a final drag from his cigarette before exhaling with a long sigh. He flicked it over the railing and turned, looking me directly in the eyes. “What about you, Lissie?” I felt a wave of emotions crash over me, and like a marionette on a string without any control of my impulses, I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. I pulled him in and violently pressed my lips against his, tasting a mixture of his tongue, the tears pouring down my face, the blood still seeping out of the inside of my cheek. I felt impassioned, yet vulnerable. I didn’t expect to feel his mouth open with mine and his hands to grip my waist as he pulled me in, too. We released, and my head slid gently into his chest. “Please don’t go,” I pleaded, my hands still on the collar of his shirt. I nuzzled my face into his neck, feeling the warmth of his body. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. Las Vegas has already taken one person from me,” I said quietly. “It’ll kill me if it takes another.” “Sometimes, what we want to do,” he began, and I felt his hand linger on the back of my neck. “Isn’t what we need to do.” I nodded quietly, my eyes beginning to dry up. I looked up into his eyes, and there was a glimmer of hope returning. I smiled, extending my neck upwards, pushing my mouth onto his once again, feeling them open together, and our tongues slide past each other’s teeth. This time, I didn’t feel even a sliver of resistance. No regret. Not like that time in the hotel. We blended in with the tourists - to anyone who saw us, we appeared like a happy, young pair. To them, we lived an alternative lifestyle, and were probably vacationing from Denver or Seattle, enjoying the early evening at the top of the world before we’d venture down into the glitzy casino nightlife. Some might’ve considered that the atmosphere would summon our greatest impulses, that later, perhaps we’d wed in a chapel that night. However, the fairytales floating in their minds couldn’t be further from the truth - all we are are two people, living in the moment. Understanding the gravity of our connection. Embracing the unrequited love we had for one another. I continued to kiss him - and he reciprocated. As I pressed against him, I could feel the metal railing that so precariously kept us from tumbling over the edge. And it was exhilarating. “I think I should go,” he finally said, separating himself from me. Our lips quivered, and our breathing was heavy. His eyes darkened as he took a step away, and I reached for his hand. We touched again, and I squeezed his fingers. “And give all this up?” He squeezed back - just momentarily. “I was a drop-out before, Lissie,” he said with a sad smile as he released my grip and zipped up his hoodie. “I can be a drop-out again.” Johnny turned away from me and began to walk off, leaving his parting words lingering in the air. Was he really going to walk away? From Action Wrestling? And from me? “Wait,” I cried out, feeling the lump in my throat. “At least spend the week with me? It can be our week. Maybe we can ride the rollercoaster tomorrow? I have to get over the fear, and it’ll be a lot easier if you’re there with me. Then we could get dinner at the place downstairs. Or we can do anything you want, all week.” He regarded me silently. I could see something familiar in his eyes – that excited energy I knew him for. “Just the two of us. Here. Before the show. Please?” He smiled. It was an old Johnny smile. “I’ll see you soon, Tiger.” And then he disappeared into the crowd, leaving me so ready for tomorrow morning. THIS MORNING I didn’t sleep much last night. I felt the rumbling chaos in my belly, my chest palpitating like the thumping, reverberating bass in a Vegas nightclub. My body was sore and tired, in need of recovery and safety, but I couldn’t settle the thoughts pulsing in my body’s supercomputer. The brain is a mystifying organ. Like a root of a tree, it must be nourished. It must be replenished. It must be exercised, otherwise it’ll never reach every branch. It processes information, it instills security when you’re captivated by fear. It’s comprised of blood vessels and nerve endings, controlling every limb, every sensation in your body from the taste in your mouth to the tips of your fingers. And from the tips of mine, I sent him a message. Good mornin : ) wanna get breakfast? I readied myself in the mirror, selecting an outfit that I thought he’d like. I didn’t want to get too dolled up - I had a feeling he enjoyed me more in a flannel overshirt and a punk band tank–top. I didn’t pack too much, but this trip was going on longer than I expected, and I had already begun recycling my looks. But the most important thing, far beyond what I was planning to wear, was how I would manage to cover the bruising on my face. I didn’t want him to see it - even if I’d let him see it fresh. I just wanted to escape from any memory he has of how I leave every fight I’m in. I think we both craved normalcy. I think we just wanted to fit in with the crowd. It’s why he always chose the hoodies, and why I’ve decided to go all black myself. I sent another. I’m about to head that way, cya soon! I opened Spotify and clicked on an 80’s synth playlist. I figured I’d get some inspiration for how I’d do my makeup, and I turned the volume up loud, hearing the thumping echoes of the bass from the beginning of “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode. With a smile on my face, I sang along, feeling my hair whip up and down, brushing it out of my eyes when I stopped dancing along to the music. It wouldn’t matter what I wore. Or how I looked. Johnny wouldn’t care. I always seemed to feel nervous and anxious in my Uber rides. There was something about relinquishing control when I wasn’t behind the wheel, and this morning was no different. Those nerves in my belly returned, just as they were when I was tossing and turning for hours in bed last night. But now? I was about to bare my soul to this man who had always held me on a pedestal, and even when I disappointed him, and even when I had broken the trust we’d forged, he’d always been my side. And it's a strange turn of events - for so long, he held me in such high regard, but now? He is the single greatest person I know. He was so caring, and sincere - he was so thoughtful, and so forgiving. And he had faith that I wasn’t beyond redemption. I could spend an Uber ride arguing with someone like Thaddeus Duke, like I did last night - because he showed who he really is under the charismatic surface. But Johnny would never acknowledge that someone terrorized me in one breath, while apologizing for it the next. I just wanted someone to choose me, for once - that was what I always needed, and what I always wanted. And now, he was just beyond my fingertips, waiting for me to grab him. Walking in now! I stepped into the lobby of the Strat Hotel with a small suitcase in hand. I imagined I would be spending a couple of days here - with him. I wanted to sit by his side as we rode the rollercoaster, and have him hold my hand as I faced that exhilarating fear. I wanted to have dinner at the Top of the World restaurant with him, and have him support my decision to only have Topo and lime. I knew he would have one in solidarity, too, because that’s the kind of person he is. He’s so empathetic. So reliable. And I can’t believe I’m only now understanding it. And then after a perfect day, we’d return to the room, and we’d surrender ourselves to each other. It would be beautiful and wild and everything we imagined. Then I’d fall asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling safe and protected and cared for. I wouldn't have to be the one throwing myself on the fire - I wouldn't have to be the one sacrificing myself. I didn't need to be the protector anymore. And I’d go to sleep smiling and wake up smiling because we were going to do it again. Even if it was just for one week. I’m just always so tired these days. I don’t want to stay awake all night anymore. I haven't slept in weeks. I just want to know what it's like to dream again. And this time, I don't want to wake up. “Good morning!” I said with enthusiasm as the concierge looked up from her computer. She smiled wide at me - I guess my excitement was infectious. “I’m Elisabeth Hope, and I’m here to meet up with my boyfri–“ I cut myself off, grinning, my cheeks flushing red with a little embarrassment. “I’m meeting Jonathan Backus. He’s expecting me, so I imagine he called down to have a key ready for me. He’s in room, umm...” I paused, glancing at my phone, realizing he hadn’t responded to any of my text messages this morning. I felt that anxiousness rise up in my belly again as I scrolled through our texts, looking for his room number. The concierge’s smile faded as she was typing on her screen, a look of concern growing in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Elisabeth,” she began. “But our records show that John checked out of his room early this morning and cancelled the remainder of his reservation.” I was still scrolling on my phone - "that's got to be a mistake," I said - incapable of processing what the woman had just revealed. "I mean - can you check again?" I pleaded, my face contorting with every stage denial. When I reached grief, I felt my knees collapse, but this time, I braced myself on the desk - he wasn't here to catch me. I was starting to numb, and made my way towards the couch. I set my bag at my feet and slowly slid my body into the chair, watching as the concierge began to speak to her coworker. Her empathizing eyes tracked me, and I tried to cry, but felt nothing. I imagined that right above me, atop the Top of the World, the rollercoaster would start its operations for the first time that morning. And I could hear the riders screaming with delight - but it was me who was plummeting down to the bottom of everything. I stood up and walked back to the desk, pretending to exert strength and courage. “If you haven't rented it out yet, I’ll take the remainder of his reservation,” I said, pulling out my ID and credit card. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be alone in the city, surrounded by all of the wickedness and evil temptation. But I wouldn't give myself any other choice. |
