Year of Wine and Roses: Debt to Rights
Jul 31, 2022 13:24:18 GMT -5
CJ Phoenix, Downfall, and 4 more like this
Post by Dionysus on Jul 31, 2022 13:24:18 GMT -5
Things get darker from here on out. A debt I cannot repay. A man who continues to stack on said debt. And the one lifeline that would prove to be my saving grace. Selling our home was probably the hardest decision we had to make. Mother would stare blankly while Benny and I discussed the possibility. Sure, Albert had agreed to take on our debt, and our money woes were more manageable these days; however, repaying him was proving to be more difficult. It boiled down to either selling the gym or selling our home in order to pay off the bulk. We soon learned selling the gym would be impossible, as it was still under my uncle's name. It was held jointly with my father, and as he was considered legally deceased, full ownership had passed to him. So, defeated as I felt, I went ahead with prepping the home I grew up in for sale. Naturally, Albert caught wind of it and offered to buy. To my recollection, it was the only instance of kindness. He removed the value of the house from our debts, and we had breathing room. So long as we kept up with the monthly payments, we were fine. Oh how naïve I was. After the closing I spent time with Benny at his home, but felt like I was overstaying my welcome. Benny had warned me about dealing with this guy, but at the time, I didn't know where else to turn. He had a no-questions-asked policy, my credit wasn't exactly the greatest, and the debts were rising. I made the assumption that, since he was purchasing our home, maybe I could still stay there still, maybe even pay him rent. In hindsight, had I been quicker or more suspicious, I would have likely checked out the situation sooner. But Albert had been friendly enough to not set off any alarm bells in my head. So when I showed up to the house in disarray, with a few broken and boarded windows and junk in the yard, I was beside myself with anger and frustration. I didn't even want to see the inside; my home had been ruined and that was enough for me. I walked around back and confronted Albert, who was picking up a collection of some kind. Might've been rent, who knows. He pulled me aside, attempting to convince me that what I was seeing was just part of the renovations inside, that he was fixing up the place and making it look nicer. I wasn't having any of it, yelling at him to stop destroying my home. He reminded me that it was his home now, and he could do as he pleased with it. I don't remember much once I threw the first punch. One moment I was facing the cocky face of a loan shark, and the next I was in a heap on the ground, having landed on some jagged rocks. My face felt hot and a jolt of pain fired through my still injured shoulder. There were two quick and hard impacts as he was kicking me in the back, then he roughly grabbed my collar and pulled me to my feet. He then threatened me, saying he knew everything about my life and where those I cared for lived. I would continue to pay him off or they would "get what was coming to them." I staggered to my car and went back to the gym, the only place I could reasonably stay. The thought of going back to Benny crossed my mind, but at the time I wasn't ready to fact him. I still had a key to the place, and there was an apartment on the second floor that we used for guest trainers. It had become dusty and run down, which was understandable; the gym had shut down years ago. I spent the rest of that day sweeping up and cleaning as much as I could, making sure the water access and electricity still worked, and bringing in what little I could find left over from when we closed everything down. That night, I had at least a place to sleep. Or on this occasion, a place to black out. The last of my pocket money went to buying enough beer and whiskey to make me forget. The faded television had some local access program on in the background while I drank, trying as hard as I could to ease my aches. The room was hazy, a combination of some lingering dust and the smoke from my cigarettes. The couch offered little comfort as I continued to knock them back, my vision blurring and my mind spinning. I wouldn't remember a thing from that night, only to say that it was the lowest point in my life. I was stirred awake by the thin strands of sunlight that cut through the blinds. Stretching, I felt a bottle roll away from my foot. I stared down at the mess I had made the night before. Never again, I told myself. Slowly, I stood up, shaking away whatever remained to stagger into the bathroom. The hot water wasn't working that morning, but that would do for me. I stripped down and hopped in, allowing the water to run down my body. The icy chill was welcoming, as I took a mouthful to swish around. My mind solidified once more, and I began to concoct a plan. I was still in debt to Albert. I still needed to take care of my mother. I needed a way to use what skills I had, as few as they were, to make my situation better. I remembered where exactly I was. The gym would be a good start. Now to find a new home... |
At long last, Cashe. At long last we get the rematch we both want. I only wish you were at 100%, but hey, circumstances are what they are, right? An opportunity at the CBS title, coupled with the ticket to All-In, is nothing short of a miracle. The Year of Wine and Roses has been bumpy, and as we pass the halfway mark in the year, my chances to realize the dream are thinning out. The idea of "close, but not quite" has never really sat well with me. This year, more than any other in this business, has been proof of my ability and staying power. A legendary tag team championship run helped cement that. Even then, however, the same voices chimed in. "Oh, you're only in that spot because of Downfall." "Oh, you're the second fiddle in a great tag team." "Oh, you left your coffee on top of your car." ...That last one probably wasn't relevant, but you get the idea. Dissenting voices never really bothered me. After all, what do those people know? You know, the internet types that are more likely to be startled by their own farts if its even one decibel too loud. However, a song is loudest when sung in a chorus, and one can't help but dwell on those statements when they're repeated enough times. I'll be the first to admit; I'm not your greatest rival. I'm not really anyone's greatest rival. I'm just a guy who enjoys the thrill of competition and has the drive to keep going, in spite of my past failures. No one in this industry, whether in Action Wrestling or out, has the capability of driving me back to my lowest low in my life. But I am also getting old. I am not the same man I was years ago. Young, naïve, starry-eyed and thinking I'm going to be the next big thing. I guess what I'm saying is, you've met me at an interesting time. I suppose you could call it a midlife crisis, only without the expensive sportscars, chasing after women I have no business being with (not that that would interest me, necessarily), or the regrettable tattoos. ...Oh don't take that as a shot on your choice to ink up; you've got enough torso to do it anyway. They just never really looked good on me. My crisis revolves around one singular question: Where am I going from here? I'll give you a brief rundown on how successful I have been in title matches. Out of the dozen or so I've had, between the World Title, the US title, the Television Title, the Hardcore/Pure title, and the Tag titles, I have been successful only once. It led to a long reign, sure, but it was still only one. Some could argue it was a fluke. You can see, then, why I'm driven, moreso now than before, to knock you off your undefeated pedestal and claim the CBS title as my own. I've already addressed this before, but I consider myself something of an unofficial measuring stick in Action Wrestling. Anyone you have seen achieve glory here, at some point or another, has had to go through me. Sure, I don't always win those encounters, but I never let those wins come easy. You'd have to break limbs to even make sure of that...or I suppose in Downfall's case, concuss me. You have had something of an easy road here; winning a title right out the gate, holding onto it with two hands for these past months going unchallenged along the way. And that's just here in Action Wrestling. I can't even begin to describe how well you have achieved outside of here. So at this point, people are likely to ask what hope I have in winning here. And the answer to that is simple. This isn't just a match I want to win. This is a match I NEED to win. Clash of the Immortals allowed me the opportunity to try my hand against you. We tore it up, and all without even the slightest harshness. Our rivalry is a friendly one, and I'm thankful for it. Rarely do these come along; a feud that isn't about anything personal, just two competitors squaring off with respect (and maybe a bit of humor) in mind, showing each other just how far the other has come along. But this time, you won't be walking out with the CBS title. I need this opportunity. I need it bad. All-in presents my best chance of becoming world champion, and I'll be damned if I slip up here. I am one-hundred percent in body, spirit and mind. What I said before I will say again; as someone who respects you, I want nothing but success from you. But as a competitor, I can't let your undefeated streak stand. Someone needs to put you to task, and that is going to be me. I'm the one that will give you your proper introduction into Action Wrestling. The Lord of the Vine vs The World's Longest Torso will finally happen. No one else need be involved. Just you. Me. A ring. And that title. And I will walk out with that belt in the end. No hard feelings; its strictly business. |