Post by Cassidy Adler on May 25, 2021 10:07:13 GMT -5
Cassidy frowned, eyebrows furrowing in and creasing his delicate skin. His tone was apathetic; filled with the bitterness of a man forgotten by a world he once helped carry on his Herculean (see: slightly below average) shoulders.
“And that’s what gets me. I’m the one who revived an entire division. I dropped a best-selling game plastered with this shitty organization’s branding. I’m offered the best storyline in this company's history to them on a silver fuckin’ platter and what did I get out of it? Nothin’. Terrible house show appearances I couldn’t get my dick up for. Opening matches where I was put underneath dudes who I’d embarrassed already like Spencer Adams and Nightingale. It doesn’t make sense.”
The figure across from him shrugged, shaking his head briskly to remove a swoop of dark blonde bangs from his forehead.
“Maybe it’s because you didn’t care enough, bro. Don’t act like you weren’t out here telling everyone you’re not a singles wrestler. What did you expect was gonna happen when you cut ties with Olive?”
“Olivia.” Cassidy cut in, sternly.
“We’re not playing that game right now.” the man replied, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. This only seemed to agitate Cassidy further.
“Whatever, fuck you. You probably don’t even want to be here talking about this shit with me. It’s always been about her with you. Forgot I’m your brother or some shit?”
“Forgot she’s my sister?” Frank Junior retorted.
“How could I?” Cassidy said, faking an exaggerated frown and sad boy pout to emphasise his sarcastic brilliance. Frankie eyed him with a mixture of emotions that Cassidy couldn’t identify. Sadness? Or was it curiosity, as though he were under the microscope as a set of mutated cells; a creature that needed investigating? Before he could conclude, Frankie spoke.
“So, why’d you do it, anyway? If it were all for nothing? If you knew shit would end up this way, then why?”
The light returned in his eye, like he was the victorious villain who would reveal the inner workings of his wondrous mind and intricate, step-by-step plan that had led them all to this very moment. He smirked.
“Because it proves my fuckin’ point: Everybody hates Cassidy Adler. Not just the man - the idea.”
Another night. The same routine. The cocaine had long ago lost the luster it had earlier in the night. And now? He was just agitated. Paranoid, even. Not about anything in particular. Just…
Everything.
Every single one of them. He could see how they looked at him now. Before, they had respect for him. Sure, some of it came from being an Adler. But there had been more to it than that.
He was charismatic. He was athletic. And if he tried hard enough, he could even be nice. That’s why he fucked whoever he wanted and be whatever he desired. They envied him for that. But with that envy… came respect.
Now? It was all money. What he supplied them with. What they could take from him without giving back. He was the plug, and all they had to give him was their company. Even the most independent longed for the presence of another; and he was by no means an independent person. Years of being the center of attention, of being at the head of the table, the big man on campus…
He needed them as much as they needed him.
He crept a few inches deeper into the jacuzzi, the heated water giving him the comfort he lacked. Their eyes continued to dart toward him mockingly. Every whisper could have been about him, and he would never know. Those girls who would have slept with him only a year ago now had a hint of disdain for him in their eyes. They frustrate him almost as much as they turn him on.
Give them time. Let them see what they would miss when he returned to the top. They would all come crawling back. Every last one of them. Even Francesca.
Havoc was just the beginning.
Playing YouTube Video “Radler Hot Saucin’ #1 - RIP Redditors” by RealCassAdler96
A vibrant scene of men with Greek God physiques and woman who you could only dream of having flash by your screen as they wander down the spiral staircase leading down to the beautiful garden and pool of Cassidy Adler’s mansion. Yes, your former tag-team champion, renowned social media influencer and hit sensation from the best-selling Action Wrestling video game “I Love You, Cassidy Adler! A Hot and Heavy Dating Simulator!” has a luxurious mansion that you could only dream of. The video continues, panning down to the poolside where we see the man who in 2020 was announced “The Most Handsome Man” (see: actually placed 17th) getting his tan on. Behind his aviators, you cannot see his mysterious green eyes, but you can imagine them. He smiles at the camera.
“What up YouTube. We back at it flexin’ on these hoes, getting ready to do what we usually do: Secure fat fuckin’ Ws and hand these dudes who are equal parts nerd and virgin the Ls they were destined to take. I was sitting in my multi-million dollar mansion on my luxurious double king size bed that is probably at least thrice the size of whatever shack Carter Shaw was holed up in for most of his life, and I gotta say… shit was sweet.
“I had the parties and connections. Drake was in my DMs asking if I wanted to be a feature. J. Cole hit me up wondering if I wanted to join that pro-league with him, since he knows I’m a fuckin’ baller at whatever I do. And even with all that, I still had a championship reign to my name in Action Wrestling. A guy who didn’t give a single damn about this sport had done shit Dionysus was still clamouring for, that veterans of many years who had spent all their life training couldn’t accomplish. I did it with a wave of my hand, and down Spencer and Crow went. It was almost… too easy.
“So why return? I never took this seriously enough. I dropped Olive like the dead weight she was and got disrespected by this joke of a company. House shows, opening matches, no opportunities - that’s what I gave me after the betrayal of the century. I was getting media presses out the ass that these Philidor chumps are getting giddy about because they’re getting attention no-one cared to give them previously. I had the hottest mic in the industry that these ‘Pure Division’ scrubs can’t even touch - they’d get burned alive if they’re getting torched by Johnny Bacchus, the guy with more hip-hop references than unique character qualities. I see your shit for what it really is - an attention grab. You wanna be known as the big dick swingin’ in your division. You’re feeling just as disrespected as I am, you feel like for all those wins you’ve been collecting in that watered down little league you’re in, you’ve got nothing to show for them except people thinking you gotta be relieved from your duty.
"I’d tell you you look like the kinda guy I would’ve beat up in highschool for the LOLs, but you’d probably get off on that. Every generalized comment thrown your way based on your appearance and behavior you probably tell those theater girls you dreamed of piping as ‘eccentric and individual’ gives you a hard on because it validates all the work you’ve put into crafting this persona. It’s so fuckin’ cute, bro. Really. You’re my favorite mid-card darling.
“Don’t worry, little bro. You’re exactly where you belong - holding up a division that’s about as dead as Odin’s shoot. I’ll give you the honor of throwing you out of this shit myself.
“The answer to why I'm back is simple: Hate. I want to watch you all despise me when I take this shit as a joke and stomp your favorite wrestlers and topple Blake at Evolution. For all these ‘serious’ contenders like Corey Black who couldn’t finish the job if the bitch’s hands were cuffed to my bed (which did I mention was a triple king or some shit?), for all these supposed super-villains making grand returns like they're Thanos coming to snag the Infinity Stones… it’s gonna be Cassidy Adler who snuffs it all out. Just like that. Your purposes, your ideals, your visions, crushed. Just like mine were when I should’ve been shot to the fuckin’ moon and instead got given the dregs of the barrel.
“Because as much as you all hate Walter or Frank Lowe, or any of the other murderers and psychos that have entered through these halls? There’s nothin’ worse than getting folded by the guy who isn’t evil - he’s just doing this for the laughs. You despise them because they’re terrible human beings with no redeeming qualities. I just choose to be a dick because it pisses you off. I’m Colby Covington without the gimmick. This is just me.
“You'll have a cry and throw out hashtags on twitter and tell me to eat shit and that I’m nothing but trash. It doesn’t matter.
“It’s too little, too late.”
“Why do you hate Cassidy Adler?” someone behind the camera asked. The man seated in front of him scoffed incredulously, both eyebrows raised. He brushed his messy bangs away from his forehead, grinning in disbelief.
“Who wouldn’t?” Henry said.
“We want specifics.”
“What’s there to say? He’s a jealous asshole. He couldn’t stand me the moment Olive introduced us, but I tried to play nice. He’s her brother, after all. We hardly interacted but he still had to get his cheap shots in, call me a fag, whatever made him feel better about himself.”
“Why'd he do those things?”
Henry shrugged, raising his empty hands slightly.
"My guess? He didn't like seeing her happy. I’m not sayin’ we were gonna get fuckin’ married or some shit, but we had a good thing going. I liked her, really. She was a cool girl. Always had somethin’ witty to say back to you, no matter how good you thought you got her. And for all the people who thought she was just this shallow bitch? Nah, there was something more there that she didn’t want people seeing. But he put an end to all that.”
“He really made it unbearable for you?”
“It’s not worth getting involved with guys like that. They’re vicious, especially when they got numbers. I had that proven to me that night we were at the same party.”
“Have you attempted to contact Olive since her and Cassidy fell out?”
Henry frowned sadly.
“I haven't, no."
Some nights when they were alone, he’d hear her crying in the room across from him. Muffled by her shirt she’d pull up to her face when she did it, as if there were people in there to see her and laugh at her for showing emotion; but he would still hear it.
He’d think about checking on her, or offering to take her out to dinner and then smoke some weed in a random alley, wandering the streets together like they’d do. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She would never admit to being upset, always downplaying it as a ‘bad mood’ or day, but he knew better than that.
So why couldn’t he do more?
He turned up the music reverberating in his room to drown her out. It worked, but he knew it didn’t stop her from existing. She was still there. Sad and alone.
Was he just like his mother and father? Could he not lend her any empathy anymore? Had his last couple years of high school and the things he’d done during that time really rid him of his last few droplets of morality?
It didn’t matter.
In a couple more months, she would leave for Chicago to study in Law. He would be in Los Angeles with one of his dad’s employees, getting his foot into the film industry and soon becoming one of its biggest stars.
All their lives they had been inextricably linked. This was their chance to become their own people.
So why did it feel so wrong?
Because I’m abandoning her when she needs me most.
Playing YouTube Video… “Radler Hot Saucin’ #2 - King Flops”
Cassidy stands in front of a mountain of merch designed for him, copies of “I Love You, Cassidy Adler” are lined behind him, as well as POP! Vinyls and posters showing his gorgeous face.
“The best thing about ‘legacy’ is the people who care about it the most are always the people who ain’t ever gonna be satisfied with what they got. I got my legacy right behind me - and I couldn’t give a damn about it. I made my stacks and got out. I’m still getting royalties while doing zero work for the organization. Even though I’m hardly a blip on the A-Dub radar anymore, I’m still the ruler of the mental monarchy over the Corey Blacks, Spencer Adams, Kyle Kemps and Dandy DiVitos of the world.
“These guys can’t call it quits. Look at ‘em, all scrambling and hoping they can claw their way back to the top of the heap they once stood upon. Oops, should’ve left Kemp out of that equation, anyone with double digit IQ knows he’s more main-event gatekeeper and designated fall guy than actual World Champion. The crazy thing about Kemp is it doesn’t matter how good his situation is. You give Brady half-decent receivers and an O-Line that can hold up for a couple seconds and he’s got a shot at a ring. You give LeBron a shooter or two and some defensive roleplayers and you can almost guarantee he’s making the Finals.
“You put Kyle Kemp as the designated #2 guy in a hot stable with a World Champ at its head? He’ll flame out after a couple of months of being in the background, even if there’s no direct pressure or responsibility on him. You put him at the head of some half-cult group where he’s looking like he’s about to start flexing a fake PHD in psychology? He does slightly better, and by slightly better I mean getting the occasional world title shot and getting fuckin’ slumped.
“Expect a repeat performance here.
“Dandy and Spence are a little better, I guess. They at least got the belt. And funnily enough, they’re both linked to good ol’ Kemp. I never understood the logic behind Dandy deciding to go work with the guy who could never get the job done to… figure out how to get the job done? It’s like me feeling depressed and asking Lissie Hope if she has any tips on improving my mental health? She’d probably hand me a fuckin’ blade and say this is how she copes. What’s Kemp taught you over these months, Dandy? ‘Hey, bud. Here’s how you get down and take the pin to give other people the World Title.’
“Imagine beating the most dominant champion only to settle for tag-titles and becoming a blind man lead by a guy who can see perfectly fine… but just has no fuckin’ brains or talents to actually take you anywhere useful? You’re telling me Dandy DiVito at the peak of his abilities wouldn’t have fuckin’ snickered at the thought of anyone joining under the banner of Kyle Kemp to ‘better’ them? We always knew you were a pussy, my guy. But now you’re just making it clear as day that that’s all you are.
“My boy Spence is living proof of legacy meaning fuck all. Grand-Slam, most title reigns, tag-title reigns, whatever the fuck you wanna bring up. It looks nice on the resume. When a little nerd needs to write a biography about his favorite athlete for a 6th grade English class, I’m sure he’ll be stoked to list out your achievements that nobody will care about in a couple years. Because secretly, you only care about one thing.
“How many times did you hold the World Title?
“One! You’ll say excitedly, expecting a big round of applause and pat on the back. ‘I did Jerry proud!’ or whatever that kid’s name was. Uncle Spence really came through and provided the goods, huh?
“Then it sinks it; you won that while being a person you secretly hated, in a way you’ll never be able to live down. Not by your own merit, something Spencer Adams prides himself on. Not the honorable way.
“You’re just like the rest of us. Get off your high horse and accept it.
“I’d speak on Corey Black, but he’s got his head being lived in rent-free by a four-foot three girl who I could bench 800 times without sweating. Don’t worry, bud. I’ll show you how it’s done when I sweep her at Evo and give her the pipe afterwards in celebration. If I’m feeling nice, I’ll let you have a sniff of the belt one last time before I use it as a nutrag. Your entire life is predicated on having it around your waist. The only thing on your mind is revenge. For a veteran of the sport and someone who has tried to mentor the younger generation, you have no sense of timing or patience. You’re only here for the now and what’s directly in front of you. That’s why you sold out on all your morals and teamed up with Walter of all fuckin’ people for a shot at redemption. Yeah, bro. Good shit. I’m gonna go with Teo Blaze to fulfill some Make-A-Wish foundations and say I’m a hero now or some shit, since we’re all playing pretend out here.
“Your imagined crown means nothing. You aren’t an ‘uncrowned king’ like you and your pals are trying to convince you you are. You’re a lost boy with no sense of purpose without a piece of metal strapped around you at all times. How’s that for a legacy?’
“Do you hate Cassidy Adler?”
Francesca’s lips formed a thin line. Her eyes wavered from the camera.
“I don’t think I could ever hate Cass.”
“He seems to think otherwise.” She laughed at the statement, although her eyes remained dull.
“He comes up with BS. That’s how he justifies things.”
“Things? Like what, exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know… like needing an excuse to fuck other people while we were in a relationship? He came up with a whole story about how I was planning on breaking up with him, so he fucked three girls from our mutual friend group.”
“And were you going to break up with him?”
“Does it fucking matter?” she snapped. “No, I wasn’t. We were going through a rough patch, sure. But doesn’t everyone? He was going out every night, getting wasted or high. I liked doing that too, but I was focusing on college. He had that L.A thing all lined up and stopped giving a fuck about anything except partying. I just wanted more from him. You’d think someone that loved you would stop to consider that for a second, right? He took my frustration and disappointment and turned it into a reason to hurt me.”
“...but you don’t hate him for that?”
She shook her head.
“No. I just know it’s unrealistic to expect him to change, and that’s why I don’t talk to him anymore. I have respect for myself. Cassidy has respect for… very little, let’s say.” she said.
“It must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.”
She sighed.
“It was, I guess. I miss him - the ‘old’ him, I guess you could say. I still talk with Olive from time to time, and his mom messages me occasionally to check in on how things are going. But it’s in the past.”
“Do you think things will ever go back to how they used to?”
She hesitated.
“No.”
“I’m not a great guy or role-model. I’m not gonna spout cringey, motivational bullshit like ‘I have the heart of a lion and the spirit to win’ and all that crap that won’t mean anything when we get in the ring. You guys all know that. But I’ll get down and scrap if that’s what I gotta do to shut you all up. To get you to stop preaching to the masses that you’ll be the one to put an end to the tyrannical Philidor Holdings. You’re all sad little people who wanna be heroes.
“Life ain’t all that you’re making it out to be. You’re lost in your own worlds, and I want nothing more than to snap you all out of that and realize this for what it really is: A land of make believe, where you can play the untouchable badass with a God complex or believe that you’re serving a purpose sent to you from Heaven itself. Where killers and psychos roam freely and perform like gladiators and animals for the people to soothe their cravings.
“Some of you are here for money and glory. That’s fine. But that’s all it is. It’s not gonna fill that void I know you’ve got burrowed deep in your stomach, the one that just keeps growin’ no matter what you try to do to fix it.
“There’s no magic pill or motivational quote that fixes that. No belts gonna ease the pain. No writing in a record book. You’ll realize that when you see that Cassidy Adler, the anti-thesis of what it means to be a true competitor, wins and makes a mockery of the whole thing.
“I’ll hide, I’ll sneak. I’ll scout and prey on those who are weak. I’ll watch the giants get worn down by countless others before I strike. It doesn’t matter to me.
“Boo me when I win it. Loathe me. Talk about why this was the worst possible outcome; even worse than if a Philidor member won. I wanna see it all.
“Because if you ask me? Heh. That feeling? That ripple I’m about to cause through the whole goddamn federation? It’s critics, fans, the IWC, and those chumps in the locker room?
“Now that’s a fuckin’ legacy worth remembering.”
"What went wrong with Cassidy, you think?"
"What do you think, you asshole? It was you." Stacy, Cassidy and Olivia's younger sister, retorted instantly.
A separate camera shot shows Frankie holding the camera, the interviewer from the last few scenes.
"You can't blame me for this."
"Of course I can. He looked up to you, and you disappeared just like that. What'd you think was going to happen? That was he was gonna become some beautiful soul? What, with our dad treating him like an afterthought while he prepped Olive up to be the heir in your place?"
"That's not on me. Shit happened."
"Heh. You sound just like him. Maybe if he saw you for what you really were, he wouldn't have ended up like this."
"Do you hate Olive, Cass?"
Cassidy looked at the camera, his eyes appearing watery.
"Of course I do."
"You don't have to lie."
"I hate everything she stood for, everything she did. Every time she shut me out when I wanted to help. Every time he looked for her first to take the responsibility. Every time her name got put before mine in the articles. What they saw as 'untapped potential' in her was 'a lack of effort and talent' in me. And she of al people wanted to play the victim, like I was the asshole in all of this.
"Well I'm about to show her. I'm about to show all of them. Even you, Frank."
Cassidy stood up, heading for the exit.
"Cass, wait. You can't run from this."
"Go fuck yourself."
“And that’s what gets me. I’m the one who revived an entire division. I dropped a best-selling game plastered with this shitty organization’s branding. I’m offered the best storyline in this company's history to them on a silver fuckin’ platter and what did I get out of it? Nothin’. Terrible house show appearances I couldn’t get my dick up for. Opening matches where I was put underneath dudes who I’d embarrassed already like Spencer Adams and Nightingale. It doesn’t make sense.”
The figure across from him shrugged, shaking his head briskly to remove a swoop of dark blonde bangs from his forehead.
“Maybe it’s because you didn’t care enough, bro. Don’t act like you weren’t out here telling everyone you’re not a singles wrestler. What did you expect was gonna happen when you cut ties with Olive?”
“Olivia.” Cassidy cut in, sternly.
“We’re not playing that game right now.” the man replied, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. This only seemed to agitate Cassidy further.
“Whatever, fuck you. You probably don’t even want to be here talking about this shit with me. It’s always been about her with you. Forgot I’m your brother or some shit?”
“Forgot she’s my sister?” Frank Junior retorted.
“How could I?” Cassidy said, faking an exaggerated frown and sad boy pout to emphasise his sarcastic brilliance. Frankie eyed him with a mixture of emotions that Cassidy couldn’t identify. Sadness? Or was it curiosity, as though he were under the microscope as a set of mutated cells; a creature that needed investigating? Before he could conclude, Frankie spoke.
“So, why’d you do it, anyway? If it were all for nothing? If you knew shit would end up this way, then why?”
The light returned in his eye, like he was the victorious villain who would reveal the inner workings of his wondrous mind and intricate, step-by-step plan that had led them all to this very moment. He smirked.
“Because it proves my fuckin’ point: Everybody hates Cassidy Adler. Not just the man - the idea.”
Another night. The same routine. The cocaine had long ago lost the luster it had earlier in the night. And now? He was just agitated. Paranoid, even. Not about anything in particular. Just…
Everything.
Every single one of them. He could see how they looked at him now. Before, they had respect for him. Sure, some of it came from being an Adler. But there had been more to it than that.
He was charismatic. He was athletic. And if he tried hard enough, he could even be nice. That’s why he fucked whoever he wanted and be whatever he desired. They envied him for that. But with that envy… came respect.
Now? It was all money. What he supplied them with. What they could take from him without giving back. He was the plug, and all they had to give him was their company. Even the most independent longed for the presence of another; and he was by no means an independent person. Years of being the center of attention, of being at the head of the table, the big man on campus…
He needed them as much as they needed him.
He crept a few inches deeper into the jacuzzi, the heated water giving him the comfort he lacked. Their eyes continued to dart toward him mockingly. Every whisper could have been about him, and he would never know. Those girls who would have slept with him only a year ago now had a hint of disdain for him in their eyes. They frustrate him almost as much as they turn him on.
Give them time. Let them see what they would miss when he returned to the top. They would all come crawling back. Every last one of them. Even Francesca.
Havoc was just the beginning.
Playing YouTube Video “Radler Hot Saucin’ #1 - RIP Redditors” by RealCassAdler96
A vibrant scene of men with Greek God physiques and woman who you could only dream of having flash by your screen as they wander down the spiral staircase leading down to the beautiful garden and pool of Cassidy Adler’s mansion. Yes, your former tag-team champion, renowned social media influencer and hit sensation from the best-selling Action Wrestling video game “I Love You, Cassidy Adler! A Hot and Heavy Dating Simulator!” has a luxurious mansion that you could only dream of. The video continues, panning down to the poolside where we see the man who in 2020 was announced “The Most Handsome Man” (see: actually placed 17th) getting his tan on. Behind his aviators, you cannot see his mysterious green eyes, but you can imagine them. He smiles at the camera.
“What up YouTube. We back at it flexin’ on these hoes, getting ready to do what we usually do: Secure fat fuckin’ Ws and hand these dudes who are equal parts nerd and virgin the Ls they were destined to take. I was sitting in my multi-million dollar mansion on my luxurious double king size bed that is probably at least thrice the size of whatever shack Carter Shaw was holed up in for most of his life, and I gotta say… shit was sweet.
“I had the parties and connections. Drake was in my DMs asking if I wanted to be a feature. J. Cole hit me up wondering if I wanted to join that pro-league with him, since he knows I’m a fuckin’ baller at whatever I do. And even with all that, I still had a championship reign to my name in Action Wrestling. A guy who didn’t give a single damn about this sport had done shit Dionysus was still clamouring for, that veterans of many years who had spent all their life training couldn’t accomplish. I did it with a wave of my hand, and down Spencer and Crow went. It was almost… too easy.
“So why return? I never took this seriously enough. I dropped Olive like the dead weight she was and got disrespected by this joke of a company. House shows, opening matches, no opportunities - that’s what I gave me after the betrayal of the century. I was getting media presses out the ass that these Philidor chumps are getting giddy about because they’re getting attention no-one cared to give them previously. I had the hottest mic in the industry that these ‘Pure Division’ scrubs can’t even touch - they’d get burned alive if they’re getting torched by Johnny Bacchus, the guy with more hip-hop references than unique character qualities. I see your shit for what it really is - an attention grab. You wanna be known as the big dick swingin’ in your division. You’re feeling just as disrespected as I am, you feel like for all those wins you’ve been collecting in that watered down little league you’re in, you’ve got nothing to show for them except people thinking you gotta be relieved from your duty.
"I’d tell you you look like the kinda guy I would’ve beat up in highschool for the LOLs, but you’d probably get off on that. Every generalized comment thrown your way based on your appearance and behavior you probably tell those theater girls you dreamed of piping as ‘eccentric and individual’ gives you a hard on because it validates all the work you’ve put into crafting this persona. It’s so fuckin’ cute, bro. Really. You’re my favorite mid-card darling.
“Don’t worry, little bro. You’re exactly where you belong - holding up a division that’s about as dead as Odin’s shoot. I’ll give you the honor of throwing you out of this shit myself.
“The answer to why I'm back is simple: Hate. I want to watch you all despise me when I take this shit as a joke and stomp your favorite wrestlers and topple Blake at Evolution. For all these ‘serious’ contenders like Corey Black who couldn’t finish the job if the bitch’s hands were cuffed to my bed (which did I mention was a triple king or some shit?), for all these supposed super-villains making grand returns like they're Thanos coming to snag the Infinity Stones… it’s gonna be Cassidy Adler who snuffs it all out. Just like that. Your purposes, your ideals, your visions, crushed. Just like mine were when I should’ve been shot to the fuckin’ moon and instead got given the dregs of the barrel.
“Because as much as you all hate Walter or Frank Lowe, or any of the other murderers and psychos that have entered through these halls? There’s nothin’ worse than getting folded by the guy who isn’t evil - he’s just doing this for the laughs. You despise them because they’re terrible human beings with no redeeming qualities. I just choose to be a dick because it pisses you off. I’m Colby Covington without the gimmick. This is just me.
“You'll have a cry and throw out hashtags on twitter and tell me to eat shit and that I’m nothing but trash. It doesn’t matter.
“It’s too little, too late.”
“Why do you hate Cassidy Adler?” someone behind the camera asked. The man seated in front of him scoffed incredulously, both eyebrows raised. He brushed his messy bangs away from his forehead, grinning in disbelief.
“Who wouldn’t?” Henry said.
“We want specifics.”
“What’s there to say? He’s a jealous asshole. He couldn’t stand me the moment Olive introduced us, but I tried to play nice. He’s her brother, after all. We hardly interacted but he still had to get his cheap shots in, call me a fag, whatever made him feel better about himself.”
“Why'd he do those things?”
Henry shrugged, raising his empty hands slightly.
"My guess? He didn't like seeing her happy. I’m not sayin’ we were gonna get fuckin’ married or some shit, but we had a good thing going. I liked her, really. She was a cool girl. Always had somethin’ witty to say back to you, no matter how good you thought you got her. And for all the people who thought she was just this shallow bitch? Nah, there was something more there that she didn’t want people seeing. But he put an end to all that.”
“He really made it unbearable for you?”
“It’s not worth getting involved with guys like that. They’re vicious, especially when they got numbers. I had that proven to me that night we were at the same party.”
“Have you attempted to contact Olive since her and Cassidy fell out?”
Henry frowned sadly.
“I haven't, no."
Some nights when they were alone, he’d hear her crying in the room across from him. Muffled by her shirt she’d pull up to her face when she did it, as if there were people in there to see her and laugh at her for showing emotion; but he would still hear it.
He’d think about checking on her, or offering to take her out to dinner and then smoke some weed in a random alley, wandering the streets together like they’d do. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She would never admit to being upset, always downplaying it as a ‘bad mood’ or day, but he knew better than that.
So why couldn’t he do more?
He turned up the music reverberating in his room to drown her out. It worked, but he knew it didn’t stop her from existing. She was still there. Sad and alone.
Was he just like his mother and father? Could he not lend her any empathy anymore? Had his last couple years of high school and the things he’d done during that time really rid him of his last few droplets of morality?
It didn’t matter.
In a couple more months, she would leave for Chicago to study in Law. He would be in Los Angeles with one of his dad’s employees, getting his foot into the film industry and soon becoming one of its biggest stars.
All their lives they had been inextricably linked. This was their chance to become their own people.
So why did it feel so wrong?
Because I’m abandoning her when she needs me most.
Playing YouTube Video… “Radler Hot Saucin’ #2 - King Flops”
Cassidy stands in front of a mountain of merch designed for him, copies of “I Love You, Cassidy Adler” are lined behind him, as well as POP! Vinyls and posters showing his gorgeous face.
“The best thing about ‘legacy’ is the people who care about it the most are always the people who ain’t ever gonna be satisfied with what they got. I got my legacy right behind me - and I couldn’t give a damn about it. I made my stacks and got out. I’m still getting royalties while doing zero work for the organization. Even though I’m hardly a blip on the A-Dub radar anymore, I’m still the ruler of the mental monarchy over the Corey Blacks, Spencer Adams, Kyle Kemps and Dandy DiVitos of the world.
“These guys can’t call it quits. Look at ‘em, all scrambling and hoping they can claw their way back to the top of the heap they once stood upon. Oops, should’ve left Kemp out of that equation, anyone with double digit IQ knows he’s more main-event gatekeeper and designated fall guy than actual World Champion. The crazy thing about Kemp is it doesn’t matter how good his situation is. You give Brady half-decent receivers and an O-Line that can hold up for a couple seconds and he’s got a shot at a ring. You give LeBron a shooter or two and some defensive roleplayers and you can almost guarantee he’s making the Finals.
“You put Kyle Kemp as the designated #2 guy in a hot stable with a World Champ at its head? He’ll flame out after a couple of months of being in the background, even if there’s no direct pressure or responsibility on him. You put him at the head of some half-cult group where he’s looking like he’s about to start flexing a fake PHD in psychology? He does slightly better, and by slightly better I mean getting the occasional world title shot and getting fuckin’ slumped.
“Expect a repeat performance here.
“Dandy and Spence are a little better, I guess. They at least got the belt. And funnily enough, they’re both linked to good ol’ Kemp. I never understood the logic behind Dandy deciding to go work with the guy who could never get the job done to… figure out how to get the job done? It’s like me feeling depressed and asking Lissie Hope if she has any tips on improving my mental health? She’d probably hand me a fuckin’ blade and say this is how she copes. What’s Kemp taught you over these months, Dandy? ‘Hey, bud. Here’s how you get down and take the pin to give other people the World Title.’
“Imagine beating the most dominant champion only to settle for tag-titles and becoming a blind man lead by a guy who can see perfectly fine… but just has no fuckin’ brains or talents to actually take you anywhere useful? You’re telling me Dandy DiVito at the peak of his abilities wouldn’t have fuckin’ snickered at the thought of anyone joining under the banner of Kyle Kemp to ‘better’ them? We always knew you were a pussy, my guy. But now you’re just making it clear as day that that’s all you are.
“My boy Spence is living proof of legacy meaning fuck all. Grand-Slam, most title reigns, tag-title reigns, whatever the fuck you wanna bring up. It looks nice on the resume. When a little nerd needs to write a biography about his favorite athlete for a 6th grade English class, I’m sure he’ll be stoked to list out your achievements that nobody will care about in a couple years. Because secretly, you only care about one thing.
“How many times did you hold the World Title?
“One! You’ll say excitedly, expecting a big round of applause and pat on the back. ‘I did Jerry proud!’ or whatever that kid’s name was. Uncle Spence really came through and provided the goods, huh?
“Then it sinks it; you won that while being a person you secretly hated, in a way you’ll never be able to live down. Not by your own merit, something Spencer Adams prides himself on. Not the honorable way.
“You’re just like the rest of us. Get off your high horse and accept it.
“I’d speak on Corey Black, but he’s got his head being lived in rent-free by a four-foot three girl who I could bench 800 times without sweating. Don’t worry, bud. I’ll show you how it’s done when I sweep her at Evo and give her the pipe afterwards in celebration. If I’m feeling nice, I’ll let you have a sniff of the belt one last time before I use it as a nutrag. Your entire life is predicated on having it around your waist. The only thing on your mind is revenge. For a veteran of the sport and someone who has tried to mentor the younger generation, you have no sense of timing or patience. You’re only here for the now and what’s directly in front of you. That’s why you sold out on all your morals and teamed up with Walter of all fuckin’ people for a shot at redemption. Yeah, bro. Good shit. I’m gonna go with Teo Blaze to fulfill some Make-A-Wish foundations and say I’m a hero now or some shit, since we’re all playing pretend out here.
“Your imagined crown means nothing. You aren’t an ‘uncrowned king’ like you and your pals are trying to convince you you are. You’re a lost boy with no sense of purpose without a piece of metal strapped around you at all times. How’s that for a legacy?’
“Do you hate Cassidy Adler?”
Francesca’s lips formed a thin line. Her eyes wavered from the camera.
“I don’t think I could ever hate Cass.”
“He seems to think otherwise.” She laughed at the statement, although her eyes remained dull.
“He comes up with BS. That’s how he justifies things.”
“Things? Like what, exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know… like needing an excuse to fuck other people while we were in a relationship? He came up with a whole story about how I was planning on breaking up with him, so he fucked three girls from our mutual friend group.”
“And were you going to break up with him?”
“Does it fucking matter?” she snapped. “No, I wasn’t. We were going through a rough patch, sure. But doesn’t everyone? He was going out every night, getting wasted or high. I liked doing that too, but I was focusing on college. He had that L.A thing all lined up and stopped giving a fuck about anything except partying. I just wanted more from him. You’d think someone that loved you would stop to consider that for a second, right? He took my frustration and disappointment and turned it into a reason to hurt me.”
“...but you don’t hate him for that?”
She shook her head.
“No. I just know it’s unrealistic to expect him to change, and that’s why I don’t talk to him anymore. I have respect for myself. Cassidy has respect for… very little, let’s say.” she said.
“It must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.”
She sighed.
“It was, I guess. I miss him - the ‘old’ him, I guess you could say. I still talk with Olive from time to time, and his mom messages me occasionally to check in on how things are going. But it’s in the past.”
“Do you think things will ever go back to how they used to?”
She hesitated.
“No.”
“I’m not a great guy or role-model. I’m not gonna spout cringey, motivational bullshit like ‘I have the heart of a lion and the spirit to win’ and all that crap that won’t mean anything when we get in the ring. You guys all know that. But I’ll get down and scrap if that’s what I gotta do to shut you all up. To get you to stop preaching to the masses that you’ll be the one to put an end to the tyrannical Philidor Holdings. You’re all sad little people who wanna be heroes.
“Life ain’t all that you’re making it out to be. You’re lost in your own worlds, and I want nothing more than to snap you all out of that and realize this for what it really is: A land of make believe, where you can play the untouchable badass with a God complex or believe that you’re serving a purpose sent to you from Heaven itself. Where killers and psychos roam freely and perform like gladiators and animals for the people to soothe their cravings.
“Some of you are here for money and glory. That’s fine. But that’s all it is. It’s not gonna fill that void I know you’ve got burrowed deep in your stomach, the one that just keeps growin’ no matter what you try to do to fix it.
“There’s no magic pill or motivational quote that fixes that. No belts gonna ease the pain. No writing in a record book. You’ll realize that when you see that Cassidy Adler, the anti-thesis of what it means to be a true competitor, wins and makes a mockery of the whole thing.
“I’ll hide, I’ll sneak. I’ll scout and prey on those who are weak. I’ll watch the giants get worn down by countless others before I strike. It doesn’t matter to me.
“Boo me when I win it. Loathe me. Talk about why this was the worst possible outcome; even worse than if a Philidor member won. I wanna see it all.
“Because if you ask me? Heh. That feeling? That ripple I’m about to cause through the whole goddamn federation? It’s critics, fans, the IWC, and those chumps in the locker room?
“Now that’s a fuckin’ legacy worth remembering.”
"What went wrong with Cassidy, you think?"
"What do you think, you asshole? It was you." Stacy, Cassidy and Olivia's younger sister, retorted instantly.
A separate camera shot shows Frankie holding the camera, the interviewer from the last few scenes.
"You can't blame me for this."
"Of course I can. He looked up to you, and you disappeared just like that. What'd you think was going to happen? That was he was gonna become some beautiful soul? What, with our dad treating him like an afterthought while he prepped Olive up to be the heir in your place?"
"That's not on me. Shit happened."
"Heh. You sound just like him. Maybe if he saw you for what you really were, he wouldn't have ended up like this."
"Do you hate Olive, Cass?"
Cassidy looked at the camera, his eyes appearing watery.
"Of course I do."
"You don't have to lie."
"I hate everything she stood for, everything she did. Every time she shut me out when I wanted to help. Every time he looked for her first to take the responsibility. Every time her name got put before mine in the articles. What they saw as 'untapped potential' in her was 'a lack of effort and talent' in me. And she of al people wanted to play the victim, like I was the asshole in all of this.
"Well I'm about to show her. I'm about to show all of them. Even you, Frank."
Cassidy stood up, heading for the exit.
"Cass, wait. You can't run from this."
"Go fuck yourself."