Addy | Twenty20 Vision
Nov 21, 2020 19:55:23 GMT -5
“The RevolutiDaddy” Wesley, Lissie Hope, and 3 more like this
Post by Addy A on Nov 21, 2020 19:55:23 GMT -5
Addy hated it. The most she could get on the news of her sister, were tweets from TMZ, and random news updates. It was driving her crazy, it left her mind lost absent in the abyss, not even realizing her last cigarette had burned to nothing until the last embers singed the delicate skin on the inside of her fingers.
Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, she re-visits the tweet that started her panic.
Adelaide should’ve never left Miami, she wasn’t booked in Charlotte. Lissie needed her sister nearby. Adelaide lost count of the phone calls she made and the messages left on voice mail. She lost count of the text messages she sent.
Then TMZ tweeted. Then her fan club tweeted.
Adelaide kept her eyes open for any possible change. A single call to ‘Ma to say sorry, she didn’t want to be a bother. Oddly, she received a couple of texts from Howie Black, checking if she was doing ok.
Karlie Nash, of all people, offered her prayers.
Then…
James opened his fucking mouth.
Promises.
Are.
Kept.
He opened the box.
Adelaide undoes the bow on the box sitting in her lap, removing a revolver - a Smith and Wesson Model 63.
Adelaide opens the barrel, she spins the empty chambers and points the gun out in front.
Twenty-Twenty has irrevocably changed the life of Adelaide Ainsworth. If you told her how life would be right now the moment the new year rolled in as she watched the famed Time Square fireworks, she would’ve likely laughed in your face, but here she was sitting on a blood-stained couch, cigarette aimlessly fading to dash in between the middle and index fingers of her left hand. The television played absently in the background, it’s purpose to keep her alive.
Backstage at any Monday Night Clash were chaotic, people were running in every direction for every minute of the show. The one exception always seems to be the buffet for the guests of the wrestlers. It was a space that Adelaide Ainsworth gravitated towards, it gave her a sense of peace while the maelstrom was swirling around her. As she enters the room, she could see someone was filling his plate, carefully choosing his delicacies, unlike most of the other gluttonous buffoons that she normally encounters. Also, it didn’t hurt that he had a perfectly shaped ass for her eyes to lust upon as she made her way to the catering table.
Addy grabbed her plate, not hiding the fact that she was treating him as an object as she looked at him and up while randomly placing food on her plate. Accidentally-on-purpose she bumps into spilling her plate on his crotch.
“Shit. Fuckin’ sorry, aye.” she says, with flirtish lilt to her voice as she starts patting him down to clean him up.
“If I didn’t know better I’d swear you did that on purpose.” he says with a guffaw-ish snort.
Her eyes widen a little too much, as she wipes the mess she made on him. He notices.
“Yeh, you did do that on purpose. Name’s Robbie.” he smiles politely extending her hand.
Shit. This dude was nice. His polite demeanour catches her off-guard.
“Addy.” she returns the smile as extends her hand.
“Yeh I know, my sister talks about you.” he smiles, finishing cleaning the bits of food left behind.
“Ya sister?” a generally curious Addy prompts further information from Robbie.
“Lissie. Lissie Hope.”
FUCK!
“Wow, really. Sorry ‘bout tha food there aye?” Addy mumbles shyly.
“You know you could’ve just said Hello.” Robbie giggles, “Do you want to sit down.” Robbies finishes wavering his arm in the direction of the empty benches.
“Sure.” she smiles broadly.
“You better get some food, your plate is empty.” he points out.
“S’all good, I just fuckin’ come in ‘ere ta smoke.”
“Sure.”
Robbie leads the way to the benches, while Addy grabs a bread roll and trails behind.
“Australian, right?” he asks, turning his head over his shoulder.
“Yeh.” Addy responds quickening her pace to make sure she is close to him despite the walk from the buffet to the benches being not more than fifty steps.
She was sure people would tell her that they hadn’t been together that long, she was sure people would tell her she would get over it.
Lissie was sitting with her ‘Ma. Adelaide has found a secluded spot on the edge of an almost-dry creek, she could see the road bridge passing above.
She FUCKING loved him.
Unscrewing the lid of her virgin bottle of vodka, Adelaide took the first slug, letting its warmth flood down her pharynx to fill her stomach.
It didn’t make her feel better.
She FUCKING loved him.
Another deep swig from the bottle, she felt the same experience and it left her with the same emptiness. She’d never felt so alone in her life.
She had to be strong.
For Lissie.
There was no other option, Adelaide pushed herself to her feet, to start the slowish drunken ascent up the hill. Adelaide was intent on staring into the stars, even as the tears poured over her cheeks. Each mouthful of vodka made the next the most difficult, it didn’t help that her progress was hindered by the humidity causing the black dress to stick to her clammy skin.
“I’ll fix this, Robbie. Just like I promised.” she slurs as she reaches the road.
She stumbles her way to the bridge, and drunkenly props herself on the rail.
“I love you, Robbie!” Addy howls at the stars, before taking another swig from the bottle.
The day didn’t start out as anything out of the ordinary, now it was well after 3:00AM, both Addy and Lissie were sitting in the gutter the desperately dialing cell phone of Robbie Hope in an a desirous effort to drag him out of bed, and drive their collective drunkenness home.
“Bloody Robbie such a heavy sleeper.” Lissie curses at her cell phone.
“Ain’t when I’m in bed.” Adelaide retorts giggly.
“Eww!” Lissie punches Addy’s arm.
Both women fall to the ground; hours upon hours of drinking, among the ingestion of other things has left them an intoxicated mess laughing like Spring Break girls drunk for the first-time. Lissie tries unsuccessfully to call her brother again.
“Ain’t answerin’” she slurs.
Adelaide shrugs, “When things ain’t workin’, babe, take it inta ya own ‘ands.” she garbles getting up, walking down the street.
“Where ya goin’.”
“What’s ya fave color?”
“Orange-ish? Where’re you goin’?”
“Down ‘ere.”
Lissie is left sitting by herself, continually calling her brother to no avail when an orange Ferrari pulls up next to her, revving the engine. The passenger rolls down, Lissie mouths ‘WTF’ as the driver’s face is revealed.
“Get’in bitch, we goin’ ‘ome.”
“We ain’t telling Robbie about this."
Cautiously, Lissie climbs into the car, before speeding away.
Mexico was a blast. Bringing Sara Pettis into the The Swallowing had been a great idea, even if she just had emptied the contents of her stomach all over floor, Addy was patting her on the back having arrived just in time to stop her vomiting into her hair as it covered her face, she was patting her on the back.
Lissie had scampered off as her phone rang, just as Sara started pouring everything she had consumed in the last few hours all over her feet. Addy laughs, as Sara lifts herself upright.
“Ya know what they say, Sare.” Addy stammers.
“I’m not sure I want to know.” she murmurs wiping the last remnants of vomit from her lips.
“Room fah fuckin’ more.” Addy chuckles.
“Where’s Lissie?” asks Sara, noticing for the first time that only herself and Addy are slumming in the dirty Mexican Alley.
“Gurl, took a phone call, probs Spency out there lookin’ fah a bit a phone sex ya know. Like most guys he missin’ her pussy.” Adelaide laughs.
Sara shakes her head, leaning forward as another wave of stomach contents flies in every direction from her mouth. Adelaide gently rubs her back as Sara remains on all fours, dry retching.
“Gurl, ya ain’t been drinkin’ that much.” Addy gently consoles.
Lissie walks back to the girls.
“She alright?” Lissie asks Addy with an unexpected shortness of tone.
“Yeh, gurl, good, she just can’t handle her piss ya know.” Adelaide gives Lissie a knowing smile, that goes unreturned.
“‘Sup, Lis?”
“Nothin’”
“Spency all cut-up just not suckin’ ‘is dick or somethin’? He missin’ his girl.”
“Drop it, Addy.”
“Shit. Fine. Help me get this bitch tah her feet. We got Trios ta win.”
“Yeh.” Lissie responds coarsely letting the word hang painfully in the air.
Lissie and Addy help Sara to her feet, Lissie being deliberate in her positioning of Sara between herself and Addy, as they half-carry, half-drag back to their hotel.
Adelaide noticed as she was lighting another cigarette that the television cut the conference podium outside of Mercy’s Miami Hospital.
Her attention was caught, dropping the cigarette into her lap, she frantically tried putting it out as her eyes away from the screen, thankfully as her eyes returned, no one had walked out to address the waiting media scrum. She reaches for the remote to raise the volume when her cell phone starts buzzing, looking to ignore it until she sees the name on the screen.
Ma.
Addy answers the phone as quickly as she can “Ma. Any news?”
There is a knock on the door.
Adelaide listens attentively to the voice in her ear, as she heads to the door. She looks through the peephole.
Her voice cracks and she can’t speak; tears instantly running down her face, she drops the phone.
Addy opens the door, a little girl, no older than five is standing in front of her, with two forgettable suits standing behind her.
“Neve?” Addy blubbers.
The child nods, Addy collapses to her knees, crying so hard that her body shakes as she clutches her daughter tightly to her chest.
Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, she re-visits the tweet that started her panic.
Adelaide should’ve never left Miami, she wasn’t booked in Charlotte. Lissie needed her sister nearby. Adelaide lost count of the phone calls she made and the messages left on voice mail. She lost count of the text messages she sent.
Then TMZ tweeted. Then her fan club tweeted.
Adelaide kept her eyes open for any possible change. A single call to ‘Ma to say sorry, she didn’t want to be a bother. Oddly, she received a couple of texts from Howie Black, checking if she was doing ok.
Karlie Nash, of all people, offered her prayers.
Then…
James opened his fucking mouth.
Promises.
Are.
Kept.
He opened the box.
“James… before we begin this fuckin’ debacle; before we get in deep with the failures of your fuckin’ existence. I would like ta remind you of one really fuckin’ important thing…”
Adelaide undoes the bow on the box sitting in her lap, removing a revolver - a Smith and Wesson Model 63.
“I put bullets in people not neutered fuckin’ pups.”
Adelaide opens the barrel, she spins the empty chambers and points the gun out in front.
“Are you sure ya wanna have this fuckin’ dance wit’ me?”
Twenty-Twenty has irrevocably changed the life of Adelaide Ainsworth. If you told her how life would be right now the moment the new year rolled in as she watched the famed Time Square fireworks, she would’ve likely laughed in your face, but here she was sitting on a blood-stained couch, cigarette aimlessly fading to dash in between the middle and index fingers of her left hand. The television played absently in the background, it’s purpose to keep her alive.
Love Found.
Backstage at any Monday Night Clash were chaotic, people were running in every direction for every minute of the show. The one exception always seems to be the buffet for the guests of the wrestlers. It was a space that Adelaide Ainsworth gravitated towards, it gave her a sense of peace while the maelstrom was swirling around her. As she enters the room, she could see someone was filling his plate, carefully choosing his delicacies, unlike most of the other gluttonous buffoons that she normally encounters. Also, it didn’t hurt that he had a perfectly shaped ass for her eyes to lust upon as she made her way to the catering table.
Addy grabbed her plate, not hiding the fact that she was treating him as an object as she looked at him and up while randomly placing food on her plate. Accidentally-on-purpose she bumps into spilling her plate on his crotch.
“Shit. Fuckin’ sorry, aye.” she says, with flirtish lilt to her voice as she starts patting him down to clean him up.
“If I didn’t know better I’d swear you did that on purpose.” he says with a guffaw-ish snort.
Her eyes widen a little too much, as she wipes the mess she made on him. He notices.
“Yeh, you did do that on purpose. Name’s Robbie.” he smiles politely extending her hand.
Shit. This dude was nice. His polite demeanour catches her off-guard.
“Addy.” she returns the smile as extends her hand.
“Yeh I know, my sister talks about you.” he smiles, finishing cleaning the bits of food left behind.
“Ya sister?” a generally curious Addy prompts further information from Robbie.
“Lissie. Lissie Hope.”
FUCK!
“Wow, really. Sorry ‘bout tha food there aye?” Addy mumbles shyly.
“You know you could’ve just said Hello.” Robbie giggles, “Do you want to sit down.” Robbies finishes wavering his arm in the direction of the empty benches.
“Sure.” she smiles broadly.
“You better get some food, your plate is empty.” he points out.
“S’all good, I just fuckin’ come in ‘ere ta smoke.”
“Sure.”
Robbie leads the way to the benches, while Addy grabs a bread roll and trails behind.
“Australian, right?” he asks, turning his head over his shoulder.
“Yeh.” Addy responds quickening her pace to make sure she is close to him despite the walk from the buffet to the benches being not more than fifty steps.
Love Lost.
She was sure people would tell her that they hadn’t been together that long, she was sure people would tell her she would get over it.
Lissie was sitting with her ‘Ma. Adelaide has found a secluded spot on the edge of an almost-dry creek, she could see the road bridge passing above.
She FUCKING loved him.
Unscrewing the lid of her virgin bottle of vodka, Adelaide took the first slug, letting its warmth flood down her pharynx to fill her stomach.
It didn’t make her feel better.
She FUCKING loved him.
Another deep swig from the bottle, she felt the same experience and it left her with the same emptiness. She’d never felt so alone in her life.
She had to be strong.
For Lissie.
There was no other option, Adelaide pushed herself to her feet, to start the slowish drunken ascent up the hill. Adelaide was intent on staring into the stars, even as the tears poured over her cheeks. Each mouthful of vodka made the next the most difficult, it didn’t help that her progress was hindered by the humidity causing the black dress to stick to her clammy skin.
“I’ll fix this, Robbie. Just like I promised.” she slurs as she reaches the road.
She stumbles her way to the bridge, and drunkenly props herself on the rail.
“I love you, Robbie!” Addy howls at the stars, before taking another swig from the bottle.
Family Found.
The day didn’t start out as anything out of the ordinary, now it was well after 3:00AM, both Addy and Lissie were sitting in the gutter the desperately dialing cell phone of Robbie Hope in an a desirous effort to drag him out of bed, and drive their collective drunkenness home.
“Bloody Robbie such a heavy sleeper.” Lissie curses at her cell phone.
“Ain’t when I’m in bed.” Adelaide retorts giggly.
“Eww!” Lissie punches Addy’s arm.
Both women fall to the ground; hours upon hours of drinking, among the ingestion of other things has left them an intoxicated mess laughing like Spring Break girls drunk for the first-time. Lissie tries unsuccessfully to call her brother again.
“Ain’t answerin’” she slurs.
Adelaide shrugs, “When things ain’t workin’, babe, take it inta ya own ‘ands.” she garbles getting up, walking down the street.
“Where ya goin’.”
“What’s ya fave color?”
“Orange-ish? Where’re you goin’?”
“Down ‘ere.”
Lissie is left sitting by herself, continually calling her brother to no avail when an orange Ferrari pulls up next to her, revving the engine. The passenger rolls down, Lissie mouths ‘WTF’ as the driver’s face is revealed.
“Get’in bitch, we goin’ ‘ome.”
“We ain’t telling Robbie about this."
Cautiously, Lissie climbs into the car, before speeding away.
Family Lost.
Mexico was a blast. Bringing Sara Pettis into the The Swallowing had been a great idea, even if she just had emptied the contents of her stomach all over floor, Addy was patting her on the back having arrived just in time to stop her vomiting into her hair as it covered her face, she was patting her on the back.
Lissie had scampered off as her phone rang, just as Sara started pouring everything she had consumed in the last few hours all over her feet. Addy laughs, as Sara lifts herself upright.
“Ya know what they say, Sare.” Addy stammers.
“I’m not sure I want to know.” she murmurs wiping the last remnants of vomit from her lips.
“Room fah fuckin’ more.” Addy chuckles.
“Where’s Lissie?” asks Sara, noticing for the first time that only herself and Addy are slumming in the dirty Mexican Alley.
“Gurl, took a phone call, probs Spency out there lookin’ fah a bit a phone sex ya know. Like most guys he missin’ her pussy.” Adelaide laughs.
Sara shakes her head, leaning forward as another wave of stomach contents flies in every direction from her mouth. Adelaide gently rubs her back as Sara remains on all fours, dry retching.
“Gurl, ya ain’t been drinkin’ that much.” Addy gently consoles.
Lissie walks back to the girls.
“She alright?” Lissie asks Addy with an unexpected shortness of tone.
“Yeh, gurl, good, she just can’t handle her piss ya know.” Adelaide gives Lissie a knowing smile, that goes unreturned.
“‘Sup, Lis?”
“Nothin’”
“Spency all cut-up just not suckin’ ‘is dick or somethin’? He missin’ his girl.”
“Drop it, Addy.”
“Shit. Fine. Help me get this bitch tah her feet. We got Trios ta win.”
“Yeh.” Lissie responds coarsely letting the word hang painfully in the air.
Lissie and Addy help Sara to her feet, Lissie being deliberate in her positioning of Sara between herself and Addy, as they half-carry, half-drag back to their hotel.
“Potential is a real fuckin’ ugly word, James… Harrison, it’s sorta infected tha both of us since we walked through the doors of Action Wrestlin’. Just one of us those things, but Harrison we ain’t here ta talk about potential because you coulda beat WALTER an’ so coulda I. You coulda potentially walked out with championship belts when presented wit’ an opportunity, an’ so coulda I… oh wait, I did.”
“Shit, that don’t hurt ya feelings does it?”
“Guess what?”
“I don’t fuckin’ care.”
“Harrison, be real, ya don’t survive the hallways of Action Wrestling without being a talented fuckin’ individual, ta say ya ain’t talented would be like callin’ Seth Curry a scrub, just ‘cause he ain’t as good as Steph. He’s still playin’ on the biggest stage of ‘em all.”
“But just ‘cause ya made tha stage it don’t make ya perfect. It ain’t mean ya don’t got any flaws. Hell, bucko, ya full of ‘em. But one’a those flaws is your big fuckin’ mouth. An’ that’s what got us here right now. That fuckin’ mouth ya need ta run ‘cause need the attention the same way a toddler tugs at his mother’s dress when she’s got a newborn suckin’ on her tits.”
“He can’t handle not bein’ tha centre of attention and neither can you.”
“Ya wanna ride the coattails of Lissie Hope, with a loudmouth, exaggerated fuckin’ stories and a whole lotta fuckin’ bullshit, just so we don’t forget how much of a failure ya fuckin’ are?”
“Ya wanna prey on my sister when she can’t defend herself.”
“Well, cunt, ya got my fuckin’ attention.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
Addy reaches into the box, pulling out a single bullet, sliding it into one of the empty chambers.
“Nah, ain’t givin’ ya tha good graces ta refer ta by the good surname’a Florence, James. Nah, that’s what ya want tha notoriety, the action, the glamour and the glory?”
“Ya want tha lights, James?”
“I’ll leave ya fuckin’ starin’ at ‘em.”
“I’m already giving you more attention than ya fuckin’ deserve.”
“But it is what it is.”
“Sometimes, some fuckin’ things they are more important than needless self-indulgence. See, right now I could be kickin’ back drinkin’ pina coladas poolside, but ya loudmouth needs to be shut. Harrison, when I make a give me word I fuckin’ keep it. Each an’everyone that’s ever stepped in my path has come to know that. And I gave that word to my family that I’d have their backs from here to the end of my fuckin’ time.”
“Elisabeth Hope: she’s family.”
“No matter what fires we’ve walked though.”
“She was your easy target.”
“The man who craves more eyes on him than Lissie Hope herself. Ya needed them to look at her eye, to hear you. Your narcissism rails beyond fuckin’ belief, even in this industry.”
“Ya wanted a match at Turmoil, so I’ll give ya some fuckin’ credit fah seizing the initiative. Ya tossed tha burley into the water like any good fisherman.”
“Well… I took the bait - hook, line an’ fuckin’ sinker.”
“Shame on me.”
“Well guess what, Harrison… ya gonna need a bigger fuckin’ boat.”
“Shame on you.”
“James… you’re just the Twenty-Twenty version of Jaice Wilds. The unsuspectin’ victim fed to the dominant champion month after month after month, why ya think the Fedora wearin’ faggot felt so sorry for ya? He let ya have draw, you were never going to win, but go right the fuck ahead an’ hang ya hat on tha fact Walter pinned me. It ain’t gonna fuckin’ matter, ‘cause this time next year you’ll being stand at the fuckin’ troff crying over your lost child army telling Flop you can get him a helicopter not even payin’ attention that ya pissin’ on ya shoes not in the urinal.”
Since the passing of Robbie, Adelaide made sure that Lissie had a key for her place on the Venice Canals. It was late, even on the West Coast, but Lissie wanted a place to crash, so as she went to turn the key in the lock, it opened from the inside. Both people stood staring in shock. The man exiting, immediately shielded his face, mumbling something unintelligible as he scampered like a cockroach to a sudden burst of light.
Lissie entered the place, wearing a look of dumbfounded awe on her face, “Addy.” she shouted.
“In’ere.” Came the response from a distant part of the house.
Lissie followed the voice, but such was the cavernous nature of the multiple storied property, Lissie wasn’t quite sure where Addy was shouting from.
“Where’s here?” Lissie bellowed louder than she needed.
“In tha office.”
Lissie knew what that was, they’d laughed about it previously. It wasn’t really an office. Ms. Hope followed the voice of her ‘sister’, making her way to Addy’s office. On arrival, Addy just is just finishing tying a purple silken robe in place. The office is home to Addy’s fuck swing, which has always been an object of amusement to Lissie.
“Hey was…” Lissie questions instantly.
“Yep.” Addy grins.
“How…”
“APW shit.”
“Fuck, Addy. You and Justin Timberlake…” Lissie shakes her head in astonished dismay. “And the swing…”
“Yep.” Addy laughs. “Gettin’ a drink, want one?” Addy offers.
“Sure.” Lissie accepts.
The women exit the office, traipsing their way in the direction of the alcohol.
“But, Addy, ya gotta tell me all about JT.”
Addy laughs, before smiling and nodding.
Lissie entered the place, wearing a look of dumbfounded awe on her face, “Addy.” she shouted.
“In’ere.” Came the response from a distant part of the house.
Lissie followed the voice, but such was the cavernous nature of the multiple storied property, Lissie wasn’t quite sure where Addy was shouting from.
“Where’s here?” Lissie bellowed louder than she needed.
“In tha office.”
Lissie knew what that was, they’d laughed about it previously. It wasn’t really an office. Ms. Hope followed the voice of her ‘sister’, making her way to Addy’s office. On arrival, Addy just is just finishing tying a purple silken robe in place. The office is home to Addy’s fuck swing, which has always been an object of amusement to Lissie.
“Hey was…” Lissie questions instantly.
“Yep.” Addy grins.
“How…”
“APW shit.”
“Fuck, Addy. You and Justin Timberlake…” Lissie shakes her head in astonished dismay. “And the swing…”
“Yep.” Addy laughs. “Gettin’ a drink, want one?” Addy offers.
“Sure.” Lissie accepts.
The women exit the office, traipsing their way in the direction of the alcohol.
“But, Addy, ya gotta tell me all about JT.”
Addy laughs, before smiling and nodding.
“See we were talkin’ ‘bout potential before, at some point in fuckin’ time potential has to be something… Otherwise, all ya become is the bonus question at the end of Trivia Night, and that’s what ya afraid of isn’t it, James? Ya afraid of being forgetton a footnote in tha fuckin’ annals of history, because until you realise ya ‘world title’ potential, ya’ve got nothin’. ”
“Without that accolade, you’re just another carbon copy of a carbon copy. May as well be a walking xerox. Hell, son, grow a fuckin’ beard ya’d be Derrick Vayden.”
“James Harrison, as talented as you, there is nothin’ tha makes the lay person stop an’ stare when they walk past ya in the street. You’re just another generic athlete in a world of fuckin’ thousands.”
“Talented but forgettable.”
“Yeh, I said ya talented, stroke ya fuckin’ cock over that, but thing is, ya’ve shot ya surprise wad. Ya ain’t sneakin’ up on nobody anymore. Dandy. Black. Richards. Walter. All unprepared because they dismissed ya fuckin’ talent. Ya blew ya load right there, it’s gone now. Ev’ry cunt’s watchin’ James Harrison tapes lookin’ fah weakness now.”
“I only need one: Ya never finish the damn job.”
“Every. Single. Time.”
“Sam Kidsgrove: Beverley Allitt woulda finished tha fuckin’ job.”
“Walter: Ya fuckin’ choked harder than Mama Cass on a ham sandwich.”
“Claire Hawkins: Ya fucked that worse Daniel Lugo.”
“Corey Bull: Fuckin’ comical.”
“Ya just don’t finish anythin’ ya start.”
“Even as Sancho’s secretarial slut nothin’ works fah ya. Even with a pissweak gang’a street thugs behind ya, ya can’t get it done.”
“Ya Grandma; inviting her family over but forgettin’ everyone’s name. But none of it’s your fault is it, James?”
“Nah. Let’s blame the voices.”
“Sorry the voice. Does the matriarch have ta tell when ya need ta shit too. Really, wouldn’t wan’cha forgettin that, would we?”
Adelaide noticed as she was lighting another cigarette that the television cut the conference podium outside of Mercy’s Miami Hospital.
Her attention was caught, dropping the cigarette into her lap, she frantically tried putting it out as her eyes away from the screen, thankfully as her eyes returned, no one had walked out to address the waiting media scrum. She reaches for the remote to raise the volume when her cell phone starts buzzing, looking to ignore it until she sees the name on the screen.
Ma.
Addy answers the phone as quickly as she can “Ma. Any news?”
There is a knock on the door.
Adelaide listens attentively to the voice in her ear, as she heads to the door. She looks through the peephole.
Her voice cracks and she can’t speak; tears instantly running down her face, she drops the phone.
Addy opens the door, a little girl, no older than five is standing in front of her, with two forgettable suits standing behind her.
“Neve?” Addy blubbers.
The child nods, Addy collapses to her knees, crying so hard that her body shakes as she clutches her daughter tightly to her chest.
“Harrison… you started this.”
“Lucky for you.”
“I’m finishing it.”
Adelaide closes the chamber, and spins it as if she is playing Russian Roulette, she points the gun straight ahead, looking straight down the barrel.
“James, You’ve got…”
She cocks the hammer.
“No fuckin’ Hope.”
Click.