Alone
#NP "Coming Undone" by Korn
Locale: Reflections within Staggs Dungeon; Las Vegas, NV
I would be at home, resting up and strategizing right now, but I'm so tired of being invisible. It's one thing to be an unknown in this business. I actually like that aspect, because people won't see me coming when I take Sin City Wrestling by storm, but my own family? Let's be honest here. I am the one to blame for being upset at not being paid attention to at home. It's always been that way. Ever since I was a child, neither one of my parents could be bothered to be... ya know, parents. Let's take into account the fact that my father, the great Hall of Famer, Spike Staggs, always put work first. He was always on the road, and I understand why. Providing for your family comes at a cost, but when the Most Sadistic Bastard wasn't putting people through flaming tables, or doing some other sort of dastardly deed, he was holed up in his room, drunk as fuck... </color>
Tim Staggs is seen seated on a weight machine, his arms spread out on the handles as he works out his upper body, sweat pooring down his face as he sits quietly, in contemplation. The lights are dim in the dungeon, almost as if Tim doesn't want anyone to know that he's here. He slowly pulls the handles forward, lifting the heavy weights behind him.
***
We fade inside of a dingy old apartment, barely kept up, and just as dimly lit as Staggs Dungeon. A six year old Tim Staggs is seen standing at the window, looking outside as the moonlight shines upon his face. He watches his father pound beers as he seems to be yelling at some invisible person. He is on a quick path to alcohol poisoning, but it wouldn't be the first time.
Spike: You fuckin' bitch! All you ever wanted to do was lead me around on a leash. Th-that's fine for the ring, but I'm not your man slave, Anna! You hear me?!
Tim looks on as Spike cracks open another beer, swilling at it a bit before he leans over the banister of the balcony he's currently on.
Spike: Fuck you, you sonuvabitch! I dare you to come up here and say that to my face! I'm haaaavin' a conversion, er, converSAtion with my ex, so mind your own goddamn business, fucker!
After another sip, Tim looks down at a toy box placed to the side of the door, the only sign that a child lives here with the scattered pizza boxes and beer cans strewn about. He reaches inside and pulls out a red haired My Buddy doll, hugging his friend close to him.
Tim: It's okay, Ronnie. He just does this sometimes. Soon he will start crying, and then he'll go to sleep. Haha, he is like a baby. He gots a bottle and he's peed his pants before...
Tim chuckles as he has a silent conversation with his doll. However, he is startled as Spike throws a half full can of beer off the balcony at a passerby.
Spike: Get outta here, Anna! There's no way in hell I'm gonna let a sadistic whore like you take my kid away from me. Not again!
Tim bites onto his lip as Spike taunts someone. He grabs onto his crotch, giving it a shake before laughing. Tim watches as Spike stumbles, trying to climb onto the banister. He falls onto his side, but that does not deter him from trying again. He is almost successful, but he nearly falls off and to the sidewalk below. Tim cries out in panic as he opens the door to the balcony. Spike looks back at him with narrowed eyes.
Spike: Go back inside, Timmy. This is between me and your mother.
Tim: But mommy's not even here right now, daddy...
Spike: Goddamn it, son! I told you to get back inside before I whoop your ass!
There is a frantic jiggling of the door handle, followed by a knock on the front door. The knocking is very urgent before a voice comes from the outside of the apartment.
Female: Timmy, baby, open the door for mommy. Come on sweetie, let mommy in.
Tim look to his dad who doesn't even seen to notice. He holds his beer up in the air, above his head as he slowly pours it on himself. Tim walks inside and unlocks the door. Before he can open it, the door opens, brushing right past him. A tall woman with red hair walks inside, brushing right past Tim. She is wearing a black and purple plaid Tripp NYC dress with knee high stiletto heels. She has a duffel bag on her with a championship belt sticking out of the top. She drops the belt and bolts right out onto the balcony.
Spike: There's the gothic whore right now. Hey bitch, suck on thhhh...
The woman's eyes are wide with rage as she picks the six and a half foot tall man with ease. She tosses him down to the ground as she growls right at him, pointing her black finger nail adorned index finger at him.
Roxanne: Jesus titty fucking Christ, Spike! You are a sorry son of a bitch, carryng on like a hillbilly frat boy in front of our son!
Spike: Should I invite half naked men over and take a cat o nine tails to their bare asses? Would that be more appropriate?
Roxanne: Somebody had to pay the bills while you are in and out of mental institutions because of your fucked up family and all of the damage they've done to you. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you do that to our son.
Roxanne kicks Spike in the ribs, biding her some time as she turns around and looks at Tim. She tries to force a smile on her face, but her blue green eyes are still ablaze, and Tim can pick up on that.
Roxanne: Come on baby, let's get you somewhere safe. Do you want a Happy Meal?
Tim purses his lips, a few tears rolling down his cheek as he slowly shakes his head from side to side. Roxanne closes her eyes, her nostrils flaring as she struggles with the urgency of the situation.
Roxanne: What about a Slurpee? We need to get you outta here, honey.
Tim: He needs me.
Roxanne clinches her fists, her knuckles are heard cracking as she bites into her lip angrily.
Roxanne: He needs a fff-reaking lobotomy is what he needs, and a few days in a drunk tank to detox. Bring Ronnie and we will go home.
Tim: No! This is my home, mommy.
Roxanne: Over my dead body!
Spike: Over your dead body? You won't even take him out of this house over MY dead body!
Roxanne rolls her eyes as she grabs onto Tim's arm. She pulls him out as he screams and cries.
Tim: Daddy! No! I want daddy! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Roxanne: Quit your whining, boy! This is no place for a child, and I'm done standing around and waiting for him to hit you again.
Tim breaks free from her grasp and runs over to Spike, dropping down next to him, hugging onto his father, who seems to not care as he continues slurring words meant to be derogatory against Roxanne. Roxanne walks over and picks Tim up off of the ground, as he kicks and screams.
Tim: No! He needs me!
Roxanne: It's not your job to raise your father. I'll be damned if I'm going to let that continue...
***
Tim's screams of protest and pain echo through his mind as he struggles to finish his set. Once he does, he lets go, letting the weights drop with a loud clanking noise. He reaches over to his side, picking up a bottle of water, spraying it into his mouth, before soaking his face with it. He then runs a bit into his tangled ginger locks, pushing them back out of his face. He breathes heavily as he shakes his head.
It only now registers that maybe my mom isn't the Wicked Bitch of the Midwest I always thought she was. She was only trying to do what she thought was best for me, and I resented her for taking me away from my dad. I wished she would die for doing that, but part of me wonders what life would be like if I had stayed with her. In a way, I got my wish... </color>
***
We fade in on a bright and sunny day in St. Louis, Missouri. The summer heat and humidity is beating down on the line of people wearing all black as they walk along a gravel path inside of a cemetery. We see Spike Staggs alongside Misty, who is showing her pregnancy quite well through her gown. She is holding onto Tim's hand as the solemn young man walks along, not quite sure what exactly is going on right now. He knows that his mother has died, but he doesn't understand the process of the funeral. He looks up at Spike.
Tim: Dad? Can I have the DS? I wanna...
Spike shakes his head with an almost annoyed look as he shushes Tim. Tim's face sinks as he looks down at the ground, kicking along the gravel. Misty has a hold of his hand as they walk along. Misty looks over at Spike for a second, seeing that he's not paying attention, and she reaches into her purse to pull out a blue Gameboy DS, handing it to Tim with a wink and a warm smile. Tim grins widely as he powers it on in an instant. Spike notices the movement from under his arm which is wrapped around Tim, and he looks over at Misty, giving her a bit of a dirty look.
Spike: Misty, I just told him no.
Misty: Well, Spike, maybe you aren't being sensitive to his need at this time. We still have a bit of a walk after all.
Misty ruffles Tim's hair as he looks up at her with a smile. She returns the smile as Tim continues to mash buttons. They walk along for what seems to be almost a mile, to the back of the large cemetary. Spike looks down at Tim and hols his hand out for the game. Tim pulls it away from Spike's direction and shakes his head.
Tim: This is gonna be boring, just like church. I wanna play my game.
Spike: Well, I didn't ask, son. I'm demanding.
Tim: Let me just finish this level, and...
Spike: Now, son!
Spike growls under his breath while forcing a fake smile for the crowd around him. Clean and sober now for about a year, he can still feel the judgmental looks from the friends and family of his ex, and the mother of his child. Spike is trying not to lose his cool when Misty leans down to Tim's level.
Misty: How about this... If you let me play it for a while, I'll give it back to you in the car, and you can have it for an hour.
Tim: A whole hour?!
Misty: Mmm hmm...
Tim hands it over to Misty, who seems a bit confused with the game, though she pretends to be into it as they approach a tent. They file through and a man with red hair, salted with grey, glares at Spike before taking the hand of Tim and leading him to the front row. Tim looks back at Spike and Misty. Spike clearly objects, but it goes unheard as the strange man takes him to a woman with grey hair who kisses him all over while sobbing. Tim wipes at his face, groaning.
Tim: Geez, lady, I ain't a popsicle... Who are you guys anyway?
As they answer, Tim's face drains of any color it might have previously had. He sees the casket, opened for one last viewing. He sees his mother resting there, but even he knows that this is the final rest. His lip quivers, but tears don't come. He just stares as everything else fades away.
***
I can forgive my mother for pulling me away from that sadistic prick I call my father. I can forgive a lot of things, but how fucking awful is it to put your child through that? To make them think that you are dead? I wish I didn't know the answer, but it's pretty fucking terrible. She can spin it however she wants, but she abandoned me. She left me with that spikey haired dick. Those two things are hands down, the most sadistic things any parent could ever do to their child. She might still be walking around, breathing the same air as me, eating, shitting, and cunting, but she's dead to me. She's no mother. That's why Misty is, and always will be my mother... </color>
Tim lifts himself up from his chair, peeling his shirt off to show off his rather impressive physique. He's come a long way since his debut in Arizona State Wrestling, that's for sure. He tosses the shirt around his shoulders as he walks over to a punching bag. He begins to box it slowly as he fades into another memory.
***
Wedding bells are ringing, cameras are flashing, and fans are screaming their support for the couple about to be married. One of the few memories of his father being a decent person is the day he and Misty were to be wed. Even though Tim was far too old to be a ring bearer, he would have it no other way. The thirteen year old Tim holds the white velvet pillow in his hands, bearing the white gold bands, smiling proudly. His father looks over at him and smiles, even more proudly as he gives a thumbs up. Tim watches as Eden walks down the make shift aisle, leading to the ring where the ropes had been replaced with garlands of white and red flowers. She gingerly tosses pedals to the ground, switching up sides as she comes to the ring steps. She looks up at Spike, saying something that draws a chuckle from both he and Tim.
Eden: How do ya expect me to walk up these stairs in this fluffy dress?!
Spike leaves his spot as he walks over to the ropes. He steps outside and accompanies Misty's own personal Mini Me up the steps, proudly as the crowd lets out a resounding "awww!" She tosses the rest of her flowers to the outside as she hugs onto her father. She then runs up and stands next to Tim. Spike points to the other side of the altar, but Eden shakes her head, hugging onto Tim's arm.
Tim: You're supposed to be part of the bride's party, Eden. Remember how we rehearsed?
Eden: It's scary over there with auntie Desiree.
Tim: Desiree is not scary, Eden. She's nice. Almost as nice as Dixie.
Eden's eyes widen as she places her hand on her hip and shakes her head with attitude, as if to ask him to come again. Tim laughs and shrugs his shoulders.
Tim: I said "almost", didn't I?
Eden: That's a lie. She says so many bad wor...
Tim shushes her gently as he points to the stage. "The Wedding March" begins to play as the curtains are brought to the sides, leading the way for Misty, being accompanied by her father. Tim smiles almost as proudly as Spike does. Misty's dress us the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. The fact that Misty was now going to be married to his father gave him hope that he'd be a part of a family, a real family. Not the dysfunctional one he'd known his whole life. He couldn't even focus on the actual ceremony. He pays attention when the good part comes up, the moment it becomes official.
Judge: Misty, do you take Spike for your lawful wedded husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honour, comfort, and cherish him from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him for as long as you both shall live?
Misty sniffles a little as she looks deep into Spike’s unusually warm looking eyes, watching the smile on his face for a moment before she matches his smile. She pats his hand before returning it to her side. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, wiping away another tear. She returns back to focusing on Spike’s eyes.
Misty: I’ve waited for this day to come for a long time Spike. Our family has grown, and we too, have grown together. I have woken up next to you almost every day for six years now, and every time, when I look into your eyes… It’s just like the first time all over again. Together, we will watch our family grow.
Misty takes a deep breath, feeling Spike’s hand rub against hers ever so tenderly. She looks deep into her eyes, and a warm smile overtakes every other emotion.
Misty: To answer your question, I… Don’t.
Misty gently wiggles her hand from Spike’s as his face almost goes blank. The crowd laughs at her joke, and Spike lets out an uncomfortable laugh. However, Misty shakes her head “no†and her parents tap her shoulder. She yanks her microphone off and shouts at them, pushing past them. She yells something to her sister, Dixie, and Spike follows her with his brothers Jamie and Tommy, and Casey and Jordan come to check on the situation. Spike’s face sours in a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. He goes to grab her arm, and she smacks his hand away. She shouts at him, leaving him practically dumbfounded. Eden looks confused as Misty’s sisters turn her around. Everyone is confused, except for Misty, who spits in Spike’s face. As he wipes it away, she leans down and hits him with a heavy low blow. The headphones are heard muffling again as surprised shouts are heard. Tim goes pale as he's not exactly sure what is going on. Misty looks back for a second, against her better judgment. She looks directly at Tim, who balls up his fists in anger. She says something to him that doesn't register above all of the commotion, but this time, it's pretty clear to him.
Misty: I'm sorry, Timmy...
She storms off, not able to bare looking at her handiwork any longer. Dixie follows after her as Tim leans down to check on his dad. Spike is in pain, but he is more in shock over what had just taken place. He looks over at his youngest brother, Tommy, once again ignoring Tim.
***
Tim is boxing at almost lightning speed, his teeth gritted in anger as he continues on with rights and lefts that threaten to knock the bag off of the industrial strength hook.
I can't blame Misty for leaving my father. He was always looking out for number one. Even in helping others, he was only helping himself. By signing my contract with aSW, and subsequentially SCW, he was just trying to continue his legacy, living through me. He had her on the hook for almost seven years of engagement. Knowing him, he was probably waiting for something better to come along. I can't blame her for realizing she's better than that. I can even get over the fact that she abandoned me like everyone else. But how fucking dare she show the disrespect to me of publicly stating that I'm going to lose to Joshua Acquin?! I guess since I'm not her child by blood, she doesn't give a shit. Why should she? She's got her own son now. He'll probably come into this business at the age of twelve, and be some wrestling prodigy. I'll just be the after thought, once again. No, scratch that. I'll cease to exist in her eyes. Everyone tosses me to the side, and I'm done with that. I don't want to see anybody else. I don't want to hear from anybody. I don't even want to see anybody on the cruise.
The cruise is a bloated piece of shit anyway. Tin floating on the water, carrying a bunch of disgustingly fickle fans, all here to see Drake fucking Green. They want to see Simon Jones face off against Kain and Sean Jackson. They want to see Mikah defend against the Mean Girls. They want to see Danger Zone face off with a spoiled brat who bought his way into this business, and his incompetent hired muscle. Not one thing about this cruise is appealing to me. Who will even remember that I defeated Joshua Acquin? </color>
Tim finally succeeds in breaking the boxing bag knocking it across the room and into a padded wall. Without skipping a beat he drops down to the ground, on his back, hitting crunches, forward, and side to side, in slow, but precise moves.
It isn't a question of whether I will beat him or not. It's clear I will destroy Acquin. Even if nobody else sees it, I'm going to pick him apart. I'm going to leave next to nothing of him. He's going to be a footnote, and then I'm going to mow down Steve Ramone. I might be a Nobody, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let some washed up hacks hold me down. Steve Ramone will be fun. Maybe I'll pull a page out of my dad's playbook and impliment the mind games. Joshua Acquin is merely a ragdoll I will toss around, just to show that I'm capable and competent. I already proved him to be nothing but a whiny bitch when I made him tap out in the middle of the ring last week. Unlike his claims of retribution, I attacked him to his face. I didn't need a taser. I didn't need a chain. I didn't even need Connor. The last two were to get his attention so I could take care of him, while looking into those beady little snake eyes of his. I wanted to watch him squirm before realizing he was trapped, and nobody was going to save him. Not even security. </color>
Tim gets a sick, twisted smile on his face as he hits one final crunch. He rolls over onto his stomach before hitting mountain climbers, bringing each knee to his elbow, alternating as he goes.
Who was the laughing stock there? Who maintained their honor while getting revenge in the most delicious sense of the word? Here's a hint, it sure as shit wasn't Joshua Acquin! It was ME! Timothy Oswald Staggs! The biggest Nobody in Sin City Wrestling. That's not a coincidence, either. It's a fucking precursor to Summer XXXTreme Three. You believe it, but no one else does. It's going to be a great way to start your rise to the top of this business, Timmy boy. They won't see it coming, because they choose not to. Acquin chose not to see Connor running through the crowd to take him out, and he chose not to see me rush into the ring. He chose not to see me punch him in that smug face of his. He chose to live in ignorance, just like the fans, management, and our fellow stars and bombshells. What he did not chose was his fate. It's been determined already, and his fate will be to be my biggest win to date. It will be the one that might open a few eyes. However, I sure hope that Joshua doesn't hold his breath waiting for me to thank him, because he'll wind up brain dead... if he isn't already. In just over a week, I'm going to rip Acquin apart, and my name might, just might, finally get noticed around here for something other than my lineage. Wouldn't that be nice? </color>
Tim stops, sucking in a deep breath as he jumps up to his feet, feeling winded. It's time for a breather, but only after he walks over to the weight machine to take another show from his water bottle. He stands there for a second, a bit of a familiar sadistic grin coming over his face as the water slowly drips from his stringy red hair, as well as his chin, and his nose. This is where we fade... TO BLACK!
