Post by Lissie Hope on May 12, 2019 21:21:31 GMT -5
Today
The tall oak trees seemed to speak to her as she traveled north on the 45, cruising past the suburban developments in north Houston. The highway whizzed by on this serene journey, the sun blistering the tar of the roads. Lissie Hope could feel the sweat dripping down her back; it wasn’t only the result of the hot Texas spring, but also from the uneasiness of what she was about to embark on.The drive was quick, the length of an episode of a sitcom. Somehow, though, it seemed to last an eternity. Specifically, the traverse down the old, narrow farm-to-market roads, several idle homes still sitting on their sparse plots of land. It was a scenic route, each of them gated, each of them with their own livestock of choice; hogs and chickens and steers and her personal favorite, the horses. Every now and then, she could still hear them whinnying in her dreams. It was a pleasant sound, but one that would remind her of things she’d rather forget.
As she passed each modest farmhouse, each turn became more and more familiar. Like an old routine that would never be lost in her memories. She passed the old shopping market and the alley where the outcasts would skip school and smoke. The charming diner where half the town would go for brunch every Sunday after church. The schools themselves, still dated and unkempt. The town’s house of worship, which was richly maintained, the contrast showing just where the priorities in this town lie. Finally, she arrived at the gravel driveway of her old home, the mailbox labeled “Hope”. She parked the car at the end of the driveway and slowly removed the key.
A heavy sigh followed as she shut her eyes, unable to remove herself from the vehicle. She could feel her heart racing, the panic and anxiety setting in. Glancing back at the doorway, the exterior of the house was just as she remembered it. But she turned the key in the ignition and drove off, leaving the past behind her.
Again.
Monday
Lissie Hope couldn’t make it back to the ring in time.
She had just been launched from inside the ring all the way to the mat below and it took her several moments to recover. But she remembered hearing the crowd reaction, the shock and then the fury, and hearing the screams in agony from Estrella Luiz. She could see Kennedy bending her elbow in an unnatural position with a devastating kimura lock. Lissie had some jiu-jitsu training and knew just how dangerous and painful that maneuver was. Yet still, she would have preferred that it be done to her instead.
She slid back into the ring to comfort her pained partner and friend. She was glued in on Kennedy as she confidently backpedaled up the ramp, issuing the challenge for Evolution. But the revenge she sought would have to wait for another day. During the commercial break, medics arrived on scene and inflated a precautionary air-cast over Estrella’s arm. It took a lot of heart to hide the tears and agony but Estrella still refused any extra attention or medical treatment; she just made her way to the back with Lissie by her side. Lissie didn’t know what to say or how to comfort her; all she knew was that she wanted Kennedy at Evolution…
To herself.
Tuesday
The smell of an old leather couch and thick smoke cascading through the air.
The taste of stiff bourbon and strawberry lip gloss mixing on my lips.
The sound of ice rattling in a fresh glass and smooth trap beats on the speakers.
The sight of ivory lines on the table and silky flesh peaking out from under her blouse.
The feel of her soft touch tracing her finger up the run of my stockings. Such a tease.
It wasn’t Estrella.
It didn’t matter.
Not tonight.
“Yo, Lis, you need another?”
A childhood friend, Alexandra, had gotten in touch and invited her to a house party in the trendy Montrose neighborhood near downtown Houston. It was filled with eccentric hipsters and craft beer drinkers, music snobs and artists. The group as a whole was fine company, but Lissie kind of stuck to herself, catching up with her old friend, knocking back bourbon and cokes with heavy pours. She had invited her brother, Robbie, but he hadn’t responded yet.
There was a girl, though, who caught Lissie’s eye. And the attraction was mutual.
Her name was Sadie, and she had spent most of the night toying with Lissie’s firey red hair and giggling at her jokes. The partygoers, about a dozen of ‘em in total, took turns taking drags from the hookah. Lissie preferred the burn of nicotine and excused herself a few times, finding more solace and comfort on the balcony. Sadie followed her out and brought her a fresh drink, and Lissie leaned in with gratitude as Sadie wrapped an arm around her waist. Lissie was used to being the strong one, the independent one, the one in charge -- but something about the vulnerability of just being was liberating. And intoxicating.
She could feel herself getting a little bit looser with every sip, and she having a great time getting to know this gorgeous girl. The topic of her wrestling had come up a few times, but Sadie was more interested in Lissie, the person. And it was refreshing, just being normal for a night. Their conversation was interrupted though, when she heard Alexandra getting louder from inside the apartment.
“Karaoke, y’all!” she said, busting out a home system. Everyone gathered around the couches and barstools as she took the microphone first, jamming along to the opening riffs before getting into the groove, belting out the words to ‘Sweet Child ‘O Mine’.
“You wanna go in?” Sadie encouraged.
“I’d rather listen to cats fucking,” Lissie said with a giggle.
“C’mon, don’t be cruel,” Sadie said. “It’s supposed to be fun. You’re with good people, Lis. You don’t need to be so guarded all the time,” she continued, taking her hand in hers. “Just let yourself be,” she finished, leading her back into the apartment. Lissie was in a trance as she followed her in.
They took a seat on one of the couches, and Sadie grabbed one of Lissie’s legs and cradled it over hers, running a finger up and down and tickling her inner thigh. Lissie could feel her heartbeat race; she was sexually free and open, but Sadie was on a whole other level.
A few people took turns singing songs and Lissie was enjoying the show, feeling herself get more and more confident as the warm liquor played games with her senses. “Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds, but Lis! You’re up!” Alexandra said, and Sadie nodded her head in encouragement.
“I can’t sing for shit!” Lissie exclaimed, reluctantly taking the microphone.
“None of us can!” Alexandra insisted.
A smile spread across Lissie’s face as everyone encouraged her to take the mic. She took a glance at the list of songs and one immediately popped out to her.
“Yeah, I got one in mind,” she said. But before she committed to the song, she pulled up a picture on her phone and showed it to everyone. “I’m wrestling this sweaty fat fuck next week!” she said, hearing a few variations of ‘Holy shit!’ from everyone in the room. “So this song reminds me of Harry the Hippo a bit, but I think I’m gonna change the words a little to better… apply it.”
She clicked play on the computer screen and the countdown ticks started. Once the opening beat hit, it was a sea of smiles and laughter. The opening words read across the television, and Lissie couldn’t help but laugh through rapping the opening lines.
Fuck all you hoes, get a grip, motherfucka.
Lissie giggled all throughout the introduction, but she shook the tension out of her fingers and exhaled, knowing the seconds were passing fast until the hook. And now that she had decided to improvise the lyrics for the subject at hand, she didn’t want to disappoint.
It was all a dream!
I used to pour syrup on ice cream
(OH!)
Fried chicken and waffles in this stolen limousine
(OH!)
Cheese hanging from my fork
Super-sized chili fries with a side of extra pork
(OH!)
Heart’s dia-beatin’, till my pulse stop
Need extra gravy on whole cheddar blocks
(OH!)
Way back, when I had the size fifty-five pants
No belt loop to latch
(OH!)
Remember Lissie Hope?
Du-ha-du-ha
Never thought this little girl would take it this far!
(OH!)
Everyone’s infectious laughter caught Lissie by surprise and she just couldn’t continue. She shook her head and laughed uncontrollably, handing the microphone to Alexandra. Sadie stood up and gave her a huge hug. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone end the recording. She didn't think anything of it at the time. Later in the week, it would be the source of her scandalous week.Today
“I’m sorry, bro. I just couldn’t go in.”
Lissie sat across the table from her brother at the Magnolia Diner, the hole in the wall they would come to often as kids. She sipped on hot coffee and eyed her french toast, poking at it more than actually eating it. Robbie didn’t have much of an appetite and settled for a glass of water.
“I’m glad you came to town, at least,” he began. “That’s a good step. But sis… these videos that got out…”
Lissie looked down in embarrassment. She had a feeling it would come up, but even if the criticism was deserved, she didn’t really want to be lectured. Not right at this second. Robbie could sense it.
“...I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you’re going to get a lot of shit for this. Some of it justified, as you know.”
“I don’t know what got into me, man. I just -- I wasn’t thinking.”
“Well yeah, and you were drunk. Still, though…” he could see the wetness in her eyes. He took a gentle approach and thumbed the tear from her cheek. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. It’ll blow over eventually.”
“Some people are calling me racist, dude,” she said, choking up. “God I’m such an idiot.”
“All it takes is one comment for the vultures to come out. You’ve just gotta take it on the chin, and you’ll be fine,” he assured her, pushing her plate towards her. “Come on, you’ve gotta eat.”
She took a bite but found it hard to swallow. Slamming her fork on the plate, she buried her face in her hands.
“On top of all of that, fucking Torture and Gravedigger completely jumped the gun by announcing the match. Estrella’s hurt, and Kennedy’s going to have an opportunity to select who she wants? How is that fair? I want to kick her ass, one on one!”
“You’ll have that opportunity in due time,” he told her. “Right now, you’ve gotta focus on Harry Diderot. You can’t afford another loss.”
“Fuck, this has been a shitty month.”
She resigned herself to the fact that she’s been on a losing streak after such a blistering start. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it’s definitely something she felt she needed to correct. Otherwise, she might find herself fading in the deep waters, unable to come ashore. This was a self-fulling prophecy for her, for as long as she could remember. Every time she found herself excelling, she’d do something stupid to sabotage everything she’d earned. She knew it, Robbie knew it: it’s time to grow up, but being home for the weekend couldn’t have come at a worse time. If anything, it just reminded her of her failures and of her own self-destructive behavior.
Tuesday
The creatures of the night live inside us.
Like a plague, infecting our brains and our souls.
Like a predator, stalking you in the shadows.
Like a savage, tearing your flesh and fracturing your bones.
Can you clear the beasts from your conscience?
Or do you surrender; only for the creatures to win?
Robbie Hope finally woke to a string of unanswered text messages, a flurry of nearly indecipherable sentences from his baby sister. He rose to a panic when he realized just how out of character it was.
Robby help
I ned u
Thes ppl are awful
Plz
Com get me
He looked back through the message history and found the address that she had supplied earlier in the night. Without a second thought, he hopped in his truck and barreled down the highway, passing a gluttony of early risers and Uber drivers. Certain parts of the neighborhood were a seedy underbelly, figures standing outside grocery stores, illuminated by dim lights. It didn’t take long for him to notice the single driveway filled to the brim with cars and a strobe light flickering through the curtained windows. When he stepped out of his vehicle, he could hear a bit of thumping bass as he quickened his pace, coming to the door of the recently remodeled home. He nearly stormed in without knocking but banged his knuckles on the door instead. He could hear the volume lower and some quiet murmurs of multiple voices on the other side. The door crept open and a pair of bloodshot eyes engaged him from the other side.
“Sup bro? We being too loud?” The question was sincere, as if they’d been getting complaints all night. Last thing they wanted was a police officer being on the other end.
“Here to pick up my sister, Lissie,” Robbie declared, not bothering to be invited in. He took a step towards the door and the man instinctively opened it for him. Robbie brushed right by him and into the dimly lit living room, noticing the paraphernalia and empty bottles on the tables.
“She’s in the back, bud,” the man said with a snicker. “Think she had a little too much.”
“A little?” Robbie asked, rhetorically, drawing a couple of laughs. He didn’t bother waiting for a response; he just stormed up to the sliding glass door. He could see her sitting next to a man and woman, crying her eyes out. When Lissie saw him approaching, she leapt up into his arms.
“Robbie!” she exclaimed, nuzzling her mascara-stained cheeks on his shoulder.
“What the fuck, Lis?” was all he could muster.
But she couldn’t speak. Her panic had been compounded by the alcohol and the drugs. She couldn’t explain or rationalize what exactly had happened. Hell, she didn’t need to. All Robbie could determine was somewhere along the night, she had gotten overwhelmed and her emotions took control. Sadie was still by her side the whole night but wasn’t able to calm her down. Behind the tough exterior remained the little girl seeking validation and support, her emotions and anxiety enveloping her like a cocoon. She needed her confidant, her protector. Robbie was mad at himself for not getting there sooner.
“C’mon sis, let’s go home,” he said, cradling her like a child.
“She was having a great time,” Sadie tried to explain. “Until -- she wasn’t. Something flipped. She started talking about the losses and Kennedy and Harry. How she doesn’t feel like she’s good enough. People were egging her on --”
Robbie didn’t care to hear the explanation. He just wanted to get her out of there.
Two days later, her behavior at the party had been uploaded to social media platforms for the entire world to see, and there was no turning back.
Yesterday
I’m gonna do this a little differently today.
There are a lot of things I need to get off my chest, and since social media seems to where you’re seeing the most of me these days, I felt it appropriate to do this here.
First of all, I need to apologize to Harry Diderot, to the Action Wrestling universe, to my family, and to all my fans for my regrettable behavior this week. I was caught in a moment of weakness and vulnerability and I’m completely embarrassed by my choice of words and by my behavior. Everyone who knows me and my values know that what I implied and what I stand for are at opposite ends of the spectrum, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I said it. And I’m truly sorry.
She was beginning to tear up but held her emotions in check.
I hold a lot of respect for Harry Diderot. I’m honored that management found me capable of taking on this living, breathing legend. I’m hopeful that ‘Hippo’, who was completely respectful and complimentary about me this week, still stands by his words. Harry, I fully intend to bring the fight to you this week, and I want to put on a great match, something to be proud of and something to enrich me in the future. I’m taking that torch you’re passing and I’m going to run with it.
I won’t let this shame fade me.
I won’t let it identify me.
This train will not be derailed by a lapse of judgement.
All the shit we talk and all the fights we pick -- what does it mean in the grand scheme of things? They’re talking points, their ways for us to hype matches, to get the fans to care about what we do and how we do it. We want to put on a great show, to get people talking, to heighten our careers and win championships. And sometimes, we forget why we do the thing we love. How we actually want to present ourselves to the world. We forget what values we hold dear in our core. And we let all that dictate our future.
But the future is now.
You and I are going to Clash, and we’re going to put on a damn good show.
We are going to put all this behind us, and you’re right -- the rest IS bullshit.
You’re a big fucking guy, Harry.
I’d be lying if I said that, in itself, isn’t why my own paranoia and doubt is festering.
But I’m really good. I think I’ve shown it. I think I’ve proven it. And I think you know it, too.
This is your final run, man. You’re gonna ride off into the sunset here pretty soon, and I’m really glad I’ve been given the opportunity to take you on, to give you one hell of a fight, and to start this retirement tour off on the right foot.
You’re a good man, Harry. A better person than me.
But I’m a better athlete.
I’m a better wrestler.
And I’m going to knock your dick in the dirt.
See you at Clash, homie.
There’s one other person I need to address, and that’s Kennedy Matthews.
This cowardly bitch continues to involve herself in my matches and being a total pain in my ass. Estrella is tending to a hyperextended elbow and she has the audacity to brag about it, and issue the challenge for Evolution? She wants to take on someone on half-strength while pissing me off in the process?
Who the hell are you going to have on your side, Kennedy?
You’ve already alienated your only friend.
Your boyfriend has bigger fish to fry.
You’re inconsequential, Kennedy.
Nobody wants to work with you. Management thinks so little of you that two weeks in a row, they didn’t bother inviting you to the show. The fragility of your broken ego has been the best part of this story to follow.
How the mighty have fallen, huh?
Face the facts, baby.
You are Action Wrestling’s official afterthought.
I can’t wait to see which scrub you bring to the table. Hazel Overton? Rose? Derrick Vayden? None of them will have anything going on.
But once again… someone deciding that you’re even good enough to invest time in will be the biggest question. And I can’t wait to see the answer!
AW doesn’t think you’re worth it.
The fans don’t think you’re worth it.
Estrella Luiz doesn’t think you’re worth it.
Jaice Wilds will figure it out sooner or later.
And finally… you.
You’ll come to the realization that we were right all along. That your artificial career will be erased by the woman you mentored and the enemy you created. And after it’s all said and done, you will finally be able to admit that AW isn’t your home anymore. There’s no place for you here. There’s no career worth salvaging.
I can’t wait to see when all of your hope is lost.
Because I know deep in your soul, it’ll sting a lot more when Estrella and I are the cause of it.
Today
Robbie and Lissie walked in unison, both carrying sets of bouquets -- one edible, one floral. The shallow gravel kicked up on their sneakers with each step, and along with each step, anxiousness was escaping from her cynical heart.She was releasing it all.
The guilt.
The anger.
The regret.
The shame.
The resentment.
When her mother opened the door, her mouth agape, the tears began instantly. “Oh my god, honey! I’ve missed you so!” And Dottie wrapped her thin arms around her youngest child for the first time in years, and everything that had been left festering in her heart had finally evaporated.
“Happy Mother’s Day, ma,” Lissie said, meekly but courageously. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”
For the first time, she knew she had made the perfect choice. This was it. Everyone wants one, but not everyone has one. Some give it up, some lose it all, and some take it for granted. Lissie wasn’t going to do that anymore. For as long as she resisted it, now it was finally clear. Nothing had ever been more clear to her in her life.
This was home.