Post by hayden on Feb 28, 2021 22:06:36 GMT -5
“Would ya just fuckin’ give up already?”
Karen Willow grit her teeth, rolling over onto her stomach before pushing up, sitting on her knees as she glared at the older man. He’d been something once, a former journeyman by the name of Hal Douglas. In his prime he achieved notoriety in the Ohio area, serving as a gatekeeper in a number of companies. His prime had long since gone, in its place a man in his mid-fifties, pot belly protruding over his wrestling tights as he shook his head.
“You ain’t gonna make it to no main event, or hold a title, or none’a that mess. You’ll be lucky to even get booked in an opener.”
She exhaled sharply as she planted a shaky leg on the ground, pushing off to rise up on unsteady feet. He’d given her the same pep talk, almost word for word every day since she’d first signed up for wrestling training. It was a pipe dream, one more befitting the males who stood over six feet and had some form of athleticism. Her? Little Karen? She stood five foot three inches, the only exercise she’d done as a result of her high school P.E. class. And that ended after her sophomore year.
Those legs nearly gave out, Karen backpedaling until she found herself latching into the top rope for support. He watched with a mixture of amusement and disappointment, shaking his head once more, arms folded across his chest.
“You just ain’t got it. You’re comin’ here thinkin’ you can do anything, you can make it out there, be the big star you probably dreamed about being since you were little, right? That what you thought?”
She didn’t answer. She just returned his gaze, breathing heavily as she wiped at her lip.
“Ya ain’t goin’ fucking nowhere. You’re gonna stay in this town, flippin’ burgers through the week just so you can go and play weekend warrior. You ain’t going’ to New York, ya ain’t going to Los Angeles, you’re gonna go to Sandusky and Toledo and that’s as far as you’ll ever make it.”
Her fellow students stood on the outside, surrounding the ring as he continued to dress her down. She could see a majority of them looking through her, the others averting their gaze lest they be the next ones to receive his wrath. These were supposed to be her brothers and sisters, the people she came up with and bonded with. They were supposed to stick together and elevate one another, but the moment that their trainer took a disliking to her, she was abandoned. Left to fend for herself while the others kept close with one another. She’d gone from understanding their aloof nature to hating them for it. She didn’t ask to be singled out. She was just chosen.
“Now get the fuck outta my ring and watch someone who actually has a future. Squints, get in there. Girl, roll out.”
She sighed. It was always the same. The same dress down, same insults, same response from the rest of the students. Same day, same boring town, same same same. The days blurred together at times, her routine as predictable as the sun rising. She’d roll out, another would take her place, and she’d not step foot in the ring again until tomorrow, when he’d choose her first to get slammed onto the canvas. He called it bump practice.
Her leg raised as she went to step through the ropes, his barking causing her to pause and turn back.
“The fuck are you doing? I said roll out. You get to walk through those ropes when you’re actually a wrestler.”
Another indignation. She swung her leg back into the ring, looking down on the ground as sweat fell from her body. It was nothing she hadn’t done before, but the way he spoke to her, the tone, it made her angry. No, no she was furious. Furious at suffering this abuse again and again, furious at the lack of action from everyone around her. She signed on to escape the monotony of regular life, to try something new. That she was singled out after her first week, used as the schools scapegoat and punching bag? No. Fuck that and fuck him. She walked on aching legs, standing defiantly in the center of the ring. All five foot three inches stood just two feet away from him, eyes full of daring as she smirked. The one thing she could do that would bother him.
“Run it again. I ain’t done in here.”
“You fuckin’ what?”
The trainees looked wide eyed at the confrontation in the ring. No one gave the old man backtalk. You just sucked it up and did as you were told.
“I said, I’m not done here. Three more.”
“Thre-“
Faster than his frame would suggest, he scooped her in his arms, slamming her down with a powerslam. Karen could only draw in her next breath before she was plucked off the canvas for another powerslam. Her body screamed in pain as she was lifted once more, Hal holding her in the air for a second as he snarled- “You ain’t ever going nowhere kid.” - driving her down with more force than the previous two slams. She groaned in pain as he got to his feet, looking down on her in revulsion.
“Get her out. NOW!”
Two of the trainees slid under the ropes, each grabbing a leg and pulling her to the safety of the outside. A third hapless student entered, ready to receive the brunt of Hal’s anger as they carried her to the back, Karen struggling not to cry. She would do it later in the privacy of her home, either in the bath or in her bed until the late hours of the night. But in front of him, or these cowards that carried her off? She’d hold firm. She wouldn’t break just for their amusement, oh no. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she was hurt.
“And you see how that might affect you now?”
She blinked. There were no trainees carrying her, no Hal to haunt her. She was lying on the couch, Daniel MacNamara looking at her, studying her reactions.
“You didn’t have to take that from him. Could’ve gone to a different school, get away from that sad excuse of a man. You stayed because you wanted to bother him and he made you pay for it every day.”
He wasn’t wrong. Just seeing him grimace gave her a small satisfaction.
“You can’t afford to go that route with Miles. He’s not gonna be thrown off with a few words like your trainer was. You know he’s too clever for that.”
She stared at the ceiling, frowning. He was right of course. Miles had proven him right time and time again.
“You shouldn’t have taken this match. Now you’re playing on his terms and he’s done a fine job of getting under your skin.”
“No he hasn’t.” She mumbled. Not very convincingly either, which drew a raised eyebrow.
“Oh? Because I remember the conversation we had. You sounded plenty frustrated there.”
Of course he’d bring that up. That stupid conversation. A moment of weakness and self doubt that led to her lashing out against him for… for no other reason than telling her the truth. She hated that she had lost control of her emotions, yelling at one of the few people she trusted and cared for in this world. She didn’t have the legions of fans and friends like others did, or a strong connection to her family like most. She had a small circle that she could count on two hands with space left over.
She groaned as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, arms resting in her lap as she sighed. “I can’t back out. I don’t want to back out. I don’t care if he’s obsessed with you or over you or playing the long game so he can win you back like a hallmark movie. He hounded me for weeks trying to get this match, and if it means never dealing with Miles Lucky again after this, then so be it.”
“Aye? You think this’ll be it?”
“I do. He isn’t hung up on you anymore, and this match is all about erasing what you did a year ago when you beat Bryan.”
“Is that what you think?”
It was his tone. Something in the way he said it made her pause.
“Well go on then. Imagine me as Miles. Get it all out.” He leaned back, a taunting smile on his face. “Come on. Tell Miles off.”
“You’re joking.”
“No one’s laughing. Come on Karen. Give me all you got.”
She just stared. Stared at the love of her life, her Danny boy, and thought about just how stupid he was in this moment. Just pretend, huh? “Fuck off.”
“That all you-“
“I ain’t finished. Fuck off. All this bullshit, all these games, this back and forth ‘will they won’t they ohmygod just kiss already’ horseshit you’ve been pulling with him. I’ve had to watch it for months on end and hold my tongue because I thought ‘Well, Danny’s a smart cookie. He knows to drop this.’ But it just kept going and going until it finally ended abruptly. And I should be fine and over it, but you know what? I’m not. Because you still interjected yourself into my life long before this happened.”
Danny’s eyebrows narrow and he processes her words. He doesn’t have the chance to respond, Karen standing to her feet and beginning to approach.
“I lived my entire life with people who would pull shit like this. I had the people who thought they were smarter, who were cooler, who would tear others down just to see if they could. The kind of people who would zero in on someone’s insecurities and hammer them over and over and over until they were overwhelmed and just gave up. You snuff out everyone else’s candle so your candle shines that much brighter, and I’m not even insulting you at this point because you would gladly own up to everything I just mentioned. You revel in it, because that’s who you are. A bitter fuck who should’ve been euthanized at birth but was too fucking stubborn to die.
So now, now you gotta take it out on everyone. Every bit of self loathing and hatred you have for yourself manifests into hating the world because you don’t have the fucking guts to pull the trigger. The dog, Amira, those are the only things that give your life meaning, because I know damn well you don’t care about wrestling. You don’t. You just found an industry that accepts everyone. No one can hurt you as much as you hurt yourself, and you use that to your advantage.”
She’s in front of Danny now, leaning over and gripping the armrests in her hands. The eye contact is there, but she’s not looking at Danny.
“You came into my life, unprompted and unwanted, and you set up shop while I focused on other matters. And truthfully, I don’t care if you did it on purpose or it was all one happy coincidence. The fact is that you did it, and once you were there you decided to write the wrong. Lowly little NVR had something they could hold over Union, and as champion, you felt the desire to defend the honor. I get that. I understand it. And before you open your mouth and sarcastically deride me for ‘pointing out the obvious’, you came to me. You wanted this match so you could stand tall, you could erase the mistake and hold it over BW and all of Union. You don’t want to be the hero, you just want another trophy on the mantle. I don’t care if you wax philosophical or mock me and brush it aside, from my perspective you just want this.
Me? I don’t. My desire was never to come to Union and do what Danny did. I have my own issues to deal with that have absolutely nothing to do with Miles Lucky, and if you ever got the confidence to paint the walls with your brain matter, it wouldn’t affect me in the slightest.”
“Jesus Kare-“
“Shut the fuck up. You're nearly out of my life; all I have to do is wrestle this match and then I never have to hear from you again. I can live peacefully and happily never wondering what became of poor Miles Lucky, a man just as likely to bite your jugular as he is to break down and sob. You’ll move on to a new target and hound them, just like you’ve done month after month. The difference is you won’t have those titles to wear you down, and the knowledge that you failed? God I want to see it. I want to see it tear at you, I want to see just how much it drives you mad that you lost to little Karen Willow.
You think you’re obsessive now? I want you to be consumed by the thought that you lost to the one person you should’ve beat into a pulp. I want you to scratch at your skin until you reach the bone, because the physical pain you feel can block out the emotional pain, even if just for a bit. Fuck Miles, it might be worth dealing with you just a bit longer to see how mad it drives you. Just to see the lengths you go to silence the voices in your head, repeating over and over.
You failed. You failed. YOU FAILED.”
The manic look in her eyes lingers for a few moments more, her deep breaths calming her as she lessens her grip. Her eyes look focused, less manic and more determined as she soldiers on.
“You’ve haunted me for months. Whether it was just a way to irk Danny or some obsession or just a way to amuse yourself, the fact remains that you came for me. You sought me out. And now, now I get my chance. I’m coming to you, on your home turf, and I’m telling you to your face that I’m taking your titles. I’m gonna beat you. And as laughable as that statement might be to some, or to you? It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to make it a reality. There is nothing else on my mind, no one else to distract me. I’m not running and hiding like you might’ve expected, I’m walking in with my head high because I know that you can’t break me. I might bend, I might crack, but if the bitter asshole who ‘trained’ me couldn’t do it to an eighteen year old, you’re not going to break the twenty year old who made it.
When I walk into Relapse, I might have everyone in that arena root for me to fail. Just another victim to the mighty Miles Lucky, the invader who got sent back down. There might just be three people who want me to succeed. But by the end, I’ll have that whole arena cheering my name while you’re getting kicked out of my ring, looking up at your new champion.
So like I said. Fuck off.”
Her body shakes as she utters those last words, eyes filled with emotion. Danny moves quickly, wrapping those massive arms around her, holding her against his large frame. Karen tries to struggle out for a few moments before sinking into him, burying her face in his chest. Her hands grip the hem of his shirt as the camera pans out, the final image being the two locked in their embrace.
Karen Willow grit her teeth, rolling over onto her stomach before pushing up, sitting on her knees as she glared at the older man. He’d been something once, a former journeyman by the name of Hal Douglas. In his prime he achieved notoriety in the Ohio area, serving as a gatekeeper in a number of companies. His prime had long since gone, in its place a man in his mid-fifties, pot belly protruding over his wrestling tights as he shook his head.
“You ain’t gonna make it to no main event, or hold a title, or none’a that mess. You’ll be lucky to even get booked in an opener.”
She exhaled sharply as she planted a shaky leg on the ground, pushing off to rise up on unsteady feet. He’d given her the same pep talk, almost word for word every day since she’d first signed up for wrestling training. It was a pipe dream, one more befitting the males who stood over six feet and had some form of athleticism. Her? Little Karen? She stood five foot three inches, the only exercise she’d done as a result of her high school P.E. class. And that ended after her sophomore year.
Those legs nearly gave out, Karen backpedaling until she found herself latching into the top rope for support. He watched with a mixture of amusement and disappointment, shaking his head once more, arms folded across his chest.
“You just ain’t got it. You’re comin’ here thinkin’ you can do anything, you can make it out there, be the big star you probably dreamed about being since you were little, right? That what you thought?”
She didn’t answer. She just returned his gaze, breathing heavily as she wiped at her lip.
“Ya ain’t goin’ fucking nowhere. You’re gonna stay in this town, flippin’ burgers through the week just so you can go and play weekend warrior. You ain’t going’ to New York, ya ain’t going to Los Angeles, you’re gonna go to Sandusky and Toledo and that’s as far as you’ll ever make it.”
Her fellow students stood on the outside, surrounding the ring as he continued to dress her down. She could see a majority of them looking through her, the others averting their gaze lest they be the next ones to receive his wrath. These were supposed to be her brothers and sisters, the people she came up with and bonded with. They were supposed to stick together and elevate one another, but the moment that their trainer took a disliking to her, she was abandoned. Left to fend for herself while the others kept close with one another. She’d gone from understanding their aloof nature to hating them for it. She didn’t ask to be singled out. She was just chosen.
“Now get the fuck outta my ring and watch someone who actually has a future. Squints, get in there. Girl, roll out.”
She sighed. It was always the same. The same dress down, same insults, same response from the rest of the students. Same day, same boring town, same same same. The days blurred together at times, her routine as predictable as the sun rising. She’d roll out, another would take her place, and she’d not step foot in the ring again until tomorrow, when he’d choose her first to get slammed onto the canvas. He called it bump practice.
Her leg raised as she went to step through the ropes, his barking causing her to pause and turn back.
“The fuck are you doing? I said roll out. You get to walk through those ropes when you’re actually a wrestler.”
Another indignation. She swung her leg back into the ring, looking down on the ground as sweat fell from her body. It was nothing she hadn’t done before, but the way he spoke to her, the tone, it made her angry. No, no she was furious. Furious at suffering this abuse again and again, furious at the lack of action from everyone around her. She signed on to escape the monotony of regular life, to try something new. That she was singled out after her first week, used as the schools scapegoat and punching bag? No. Fuck that and fuck him. She walked on aching legs, standing defiantly in the center of the ring. All five foot three inches stood just two feet away from him, eyes full of daring as she smirked. The one thing she could do that would bother him.
“Run it again. I ain’t done in here.”
“You fuckin’ what?”
The trainees looked wide eyed at the confrontation in the ring. No one gave the old man backtalk. You just sucked it up and did as you were told.
“I said, I’m not done here. Three more.”
“Thre-“
Faster than his frame would suggest, he scooped her in his arms, slamming her down with a powerslam. Karen could only draw in her next breath before she was plucked off the canvas for another powerslam. Her body screamed in pain as she was lifted once more, Hal holding her in the air for a second as he snarled- “You ain’t ever going nowhere kid.” - driving her down with more force than the previous two slams. She groaned in pain as he got to his feet, looking down on her in revulsion.
“Get her out. NOW!”
Two of the trainees slid under the ropes, each grabbing a leg and pulling her to the safety of the outside. A third hapless student entered, ready to receive the brunt of Hal’s anger as they carried her to the back, Karen struggling not to cry. She would do it later in the privacy of her home, either in the bath or in her bed until the late hours of the night. But in front of him, or these cowards that carried her off? She’d hold firm. She wouldn’t break just for their amusement, oh no. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she was hurt.
“And you see how that might affect you now?”
She blinked. There were no trainees carrying her, no Hal to haunt her. She was lying on the couch, Daniel MacNamara looking at her, studying her reactions.
“You didn’t have to take that from him. Could’ve gone to a different school, get away from that sad excuse of a man. You stayed because you wanted to bother him and he made you pay for it every day.”
He wasn’t wrong. Just seeing him grimace gave her a small satisfaction.
“You can’t afford to go that route with Miles. He’s not gonna be thrown off with a few words like your trainer was. You know he’s too clever for that.”
She stared at the ceiling, frowning. He was right of course. Miles had proven him right time and time again.
“You shouldn’t have taken this match. Now you’re playing on his terms and he’s done a fine job of getting under your skin.”
“No he hasn’t.” She mumbled. Not very convincingly either, which drew a raised eyebrow.
“Oh? Because I remember the conversation we had. You sounded plenty frustrated there.”
Of course he’d bring that up. That stupid conversation. A moment of weakness and self doubt that led to her lashing out against him for… for no other reason than telling her the truth. She hated that she had lost control of her emotions, yelling at one of the few people she trusted and cared for in this world. She didn’t have the legions of fans and friends like others did, or a strong connection to her family like most. She had a small circle that she could count on two hands with space left over.
She groaned as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, arms resting in her lap as she sighed. “I can’t back out. I don’t want to back out. I don’t care if he’s obsessed with you or over you or playing the long game so he can win you back like a hallmark movie. He hounded me for weeks trying to get this match, and if it means never dealing with Miles Lucky again after this, then so be it.”
“Aye? You think this’ll be it?”
“I do. He isn’t hung up on you anymore, and this match is all about erasing what you did a year ago when you beat Bryan.”
“Is that what you think?”
It was his tone. Something in the way he said it made her pause.
“Well go on then. Imagine me as Miles. Get it all out.” He leaned back, a taunting smile on his face. “Come on. Tell Miles off.”
“You’re joking.”
“No one’s laughing. Come on Karen. Give me all you got.”
She just stared. Stared at the love of her life, her Danny boy, and thought about just how stupid he was in this moment. Just pretend, huh? “Fuck off.”
“That all you-“
“I ain’t finished. Fuck off. All this bullshit, all these games, this back and forth ‘will they won’t they ohmygod just kiss already’ horseshit you’ve been pulling with him. I’ve had to watch it for months on end and hold my tongue because I thought ‘Well, Danny’s a smart cookie. He knows to drop this.’ But it just kept going and going until it finally ended abruptly. And I should be fine and over it, but you know what? I’m not. Because you still interjected yourself into my life long before this happened.”
Danny’s eyebrows narrow and he processes her words. He doesn’t have the chance to respond, Karen standing to her feet and beginning to approach.
“I lived my entire life with people who would pull shit like this. I had the people who thought they were smarter, who were cooler, who would tear others down just to see if they could. The kind of people who would zero in on someone’s insecurities and hammer them over and over and over until they were overwhelmed and just gave up. You snuff out everyone else’s candle so your candle shines that much brighter, and I’m not even insulting you at this point because you would gladly own up to everything I just mentioned. You revel in it, because that’s who you are. A bitter fuck who should’ve been euthanized at birth but was too fucking stubborn to die.
So now, now you gotta take it out on everyone. Every bit of self loathing and hatred you have for yourself manifests into hating the world because you don’t have the fucking guts to pull the trigger. The dog, Amira, those are the only things that give your life meaning, because I know damn well you don’t care about wrestling. You don’t. You just found an industry that accepts everyone. No one can hurt you as much as you hurt yourself, and you use that to your advantage.”
She’s in front of Danny now, leaning over and gripping the armrests in her hands. The eye contact is there, but she’s not looking at Danny.
“You came into my life, unprompted and unwanted, and you set up shop while I focused on other matters. And truthfully, I don’t care if you did it on purpose or it was all one happy coincidence. The fact is that you did it, and once you were there you decided to write the wrong. Lowly little NVR had something they could hold over Union, and as champion, you felt the desire to defend the honor. I get that. I understand it. And before you open your mouth and sarcastically deride me for ‘pointing out the obvious’, you came to me. You wanted this match so you could stand tall, you could erase the mistake and hold it over BW and all of Union. You don’t want to be the hero, you just want another trophy on the mantle. I don’t care if you wax philosophical or mock me and brush it aside, from my perspective you just want this.
Me? I don’t. My desire was never to come to Union and do what Danny did. I have my own issues to deal with that have absolutely nothing to do with Miles Lucky, and if you ever got the confidence to paint the walls with your brain matter, it wouldn’t affect me in the slightest.”
“Jesus Kare-“
“Shut the fuck up. You're nearly out of my life; all I have to do is wrestle this match and then I never have to hear from you again. I can live peacefully and happily never wondering what became of poor Miles Lucky, a man just as likely to bite your jugular as he is to break down and sob. You’ll move on to a new target and hound them, just like you’ve done month after month. The difference is you won’t have those titles to wear you down, and the knowledge that you failed? God I want to see it. I want to see it tear at you, I want to see just how much it drives you mad that you lost to little Karen Willow.
You think you’re obsessive now? I want you to be consumed by the thought that you lost to the one person you should’ve beat into a pulp. I want you to scratch at your skin until you reach the bone, because the physical pain you feel can block out the emotional pain, even if just for a bit. Fuck Miles, it might be worth dealing with you just a bit longer to see how mad it drives you. Just to see the lengths you go to silence the voices in your head, repeating over and over.
You failed. You failed. YOU FAILED.”
The manic look in her eyes lingers for a few moments more, her deep breaths calming her as she lessens her grip. Her eyes look focused, less manic and more determined as she soldiers on.
“You’ve haunted me for months. Whether it was just a way to irk Danny or some obsession or just a way to amuse yourself, the fact remains that you came for me. You sought me out. And now, now I get my chance. I’m coming to you, on your home turf, and I’m telling you to your face that I’m taking your titles. I’m gonna beat you. And as laughable as that statement might be to some, or to you? It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to make it a reality. There is nothing else on my mind, no one else to distract me. I’m not running and hiding like you might’ve expected, I’m walking in with my head high because I know that you can’t break me. I might bend, I might crack, but if the bitter asshole who ‘trained’ me couldn’t do it to an eighteen year old, you’re not going to break the twenty year old who made it.
When I walk into Relapse, I might have everyone in that arena root for me to fail. Just another victim to the mighty Miles Lucky, the invader who got sent back down. There might just be three people who want me to succeed. But by the end, I’ll have that whole arena cheering my name while you’re getting kicked out of my ring, looking up at your new champion.
So like I said. Fuck off.”
Her body shakes as she utters those last words, eyes filled with emotion. Danny moves quickly, wrapping those massive arms around her, holding her against his large frame. Karen tries to struggle out for a few moments before sinking into him, burying her face in his chest. Her hands grip the hem of his shirt as the camera pans out, the final image being the two locked in their embrace.