PARADIGM SHIFT X // WIN-WIN
YOU’RE GOING FOR BLOOD (THAT’S SO ADORABLE), YOU’RE CUTTING ME UP (YOU’RE SO HYSTERICAL). SO SAY WHAT YOU WANT (IT’S YOUR MEMORIAL). BE MAD, STAY MAD, WIN-WIN LIKE THAT
SET IT OFF W/ SCENE QUEEN
••••••
Yes, desperation was a thing that caused a man to go insane.
When all the chips were down, when you saw the ones you loved make a mockery of themselves on national television, when you saw everything falling apart, it was hard not to reach out and bring them back. Bring them back into the safety of your clutch, to take care of them when decisions made them fall by the wayside.
He didn’t do it when she walked away from him.
He should have, but he didn’t.
Like you could help me?
The words reverberated in his ears for days and days. Had he truly been so selfish to not see the struggle of his little brother, that he couldn’t see he needed help? Was he so caught in his own emotions, his own feelings? How could he not have seen it? The kid was in front of him every day, and now? Now he was gone.
And on top of all of that, he was teaming with the woman that internally, he loved, and he couldn’t say shit about it. He was constantly trying to tell himself that he didn’t care anymore, but that was a fucking lie and he was tired of the constant badgering in his head. Talk to her, get her to love him again, maybe try to be better than he was?
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
••••••
The room that is shown this time is not a preschool, or a daycare, of any kind. We’ve moved venues, and as the picture clears, we realize that it’s not blurry on purpose. No. It’s more…foggy, like perfumed smoke rising up along the sides of the room, and throughout it, red in its wake. Seated in the center, reclining in a wingbacked chair with a hand up along his chin, staring directly ahead almost uncomfortably is Finn Whelan. The cute, fatheringly mood from previously is erased. He sits in his signature black, his light blue eyes seemingly slicing through the viewer with pinpoint accuracy.
He looks down, and then chuckles, looking up through his lashes confidently once more.
“It’s funny what happens when people think they can control the narrative. Let’s talk about the same thing over and over again until people believe the lies that they tell themselves. The little train that could or whatever the fuck.”
He teeters his chair back, lifting the legs off the floor with his feet pressed into it.
“Push the narrative that you want. That’s what we’re all supposed to do, right? If we push, then others might believe it too. Listening to the two of you this week made me simultaneously vomit and push myself off a cliff. This whole charade of falling apart and then getting it together at the last second is pathetic, but if that’s the desire to make others believe…
I’m sorry, I still can’t from two people who are so emotionless and analytical. Even in your ‘pain’ you were stone faced and trite. Like you haven’t really learned how to emote and show us how it works. And you want to know why? I think that?
Before I get into the meat of your bullshit, I want to put out that it was the two of you that came out during my singles match in the midst of your inability to get along like you were all chummy fucks and then came out immediately afterwards and fucked up and played a role made me see you for what the fuck you really were.
Liars.
You can believe you're great and wonderful, but it’s a farce. A dream. A piece of false woven fairy tales that you both seem to think are the greatest contribution to the company.”
Finn teeters just a bit further back, a smirk rising up on his features.
“Since we so readily consult our imaginations and our dreams, I thought it would be best to sit down and look at some divination of my own. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, so I asked a professional. So welcome…welcome to Finn’s Dinvination Reading, where we find out if Limtless has a chance in hell of taking the Mixed Tag Team Championships back.”
Finn leans forward over the table, almost dropping the chair he was leaning back down into a stable position with a thud. He reaches forward and taps a card. It is an intricate card, a male figure holding a wand as a staff in an authoritarian position.
“The King of Wands was the first card drawn. A leader, overcoming challenges that face them. Now, divination in its best is not an exact science and it’s all about interpretation. Someone could sit there and say that overcoming challenges could be in Eiley and Ozzie’s little favor, but…I disagree. Because the energy set into the cosmos by this card signifies a person who is not only passionate, but confident and driven. All four of us in this match are hungry, and despite the fact that Eiley believes Kayla is a weak link, we are all passionate and driven. Maybe some more than others. Equally determined, equally motivated. Yes, there’s an opportunity here for anyone of us to walk out with those belts.”
He pauses, and then taps the next card. Scales hung in the balance.
“This card is Justice. A card that speaks of fairness, of balance, and the need for integrity. Something very few of us in this grouping truly have. As much as we are passionate, some of us are less inclined to do the right thing. The appropriate thing. Kayla is incapable of this fairness, but so are Eiley and Oz, as they’ve decided to show the world time and time again. I know myself, however, and I know that my own actions will align to my principles. Do anything to win…within reason, right? You won’t see me cheating, but if I have the opportunity? Don’t think I would bash you in the fucking face over and over again just to make you bleed.
And truly, beyond that, let’s look one more time at the teams within this. Eiley wanted to bring up that they got an easy win in against The Barnharts to give themselves confidence. Basically admitting to the entire company that they needed less of a challenge. Hate to break it to all of you, but The Barnharts aren’t the Wolves of Gheimhridh. They’re nowhere near the level we are, and nowhere near where you need to be more solidified. I think Kayla and I have also proven that you don’t need to be solidified in arms in order to succeed. So this whole narrative about getting back on track and facing the big bad wolves who took your prized possessions from you, well…it’s trite and overused.
You can’t fist pump yourself to confidence. I hear the shake in your voices. I hear the uncertainty. The hesitation. You can’t repeat something over and over and think you’re going to believe it. The only reason that you children believe that you’re deserving is because there was no one here to keep these championships from you. You’ve been deluded by people telling you you’re great, that you’re the next big thing, that you’re the best champions, but…you were the only champions for a few months.
Not really a field to extract anything from.”
He rubs his hand beneath his chin and then taps the final card of the three card spread.
“The Page of Pentacles. A potential for grown and learning. With a diligent attitude that’s focused on the prize ahead, a reward sits behind the bearer of the card. Throughout the preparation and dedication that we have, we’ve learned to not only face the challenge head-on, but to gain valuable insight.
Insight about you two. You can talk about how you needed that one match to make you feel better, but for multiple weeks, it was the two of you either fucking up together or fucking up alone. And you have the audacity to sit there and say we didn’t do shit? No. You’re right, we didn’t. We did nothing but defend the championship on Climax Control while the two of you didn’t defend except for at Pay Per Views and…what, one championship match on Climax Control in three months? That’s twelve shows that the two of you either were fighting singles matches or teaming barely. Nine of those shows mean you did nothing. That’s a percentage of seventy-five of the time you weren’t really doing shit either. But whose counting, except for the two of you trying to find bullshit to latch onto because neither of you are confident in shit.
You’re both easy to dissuade, to put down, to make feel like you’re worthless. Four of the last five shows that you both have showed out in order to try to drive this narrative of inability to work with one another, the narrative that you’ll drive yourself to do the best like two Karate Kids, is easy to see as a work. A bad caricature of Kayla and I’s victory against the two of you. If they could then we can do better!
See how easily you think like children?
Cry when you’re upset, act dejected when you aren’t pampered on the ass anymore. You have no drive, no energy, no desire to do anything for four weeks and then you’re finally handed an easy match that everyone can make the fuck fun of you for even thinking you’ve done anything. The previous weeks had you facing Ben Jordan and Sam Marlowe, people you’ve had a hard time facing, and you failed. Ollie couldn’t get Carter, who he thought he could put down easily. And that’s not an option, is it? Not anymore.
When Kayla and I stepped out, we had champions of the company against us. We defeated them. I put that fucking dumbshit upstart in his place.
I would have done more if I’d been given the key to do so. I.E. The bookers book me, but you know what, I don’t book myself. I’m not so vain to think that’s an option. I’m sure you’ve got ins with that what with Crack City being…you know, on such good terms with staff, but when you were given the opportunity, what the fuck did you do with it?
Squander it.
Destroy it.
Like children.
The only limits the Limitless has is on their ability to succeed when their chips are down.
Kayla and I? Our chips are down all the fucking time, and we figure out how to be professional and succeed in the end.
Sad, isn’t it Olly?”
He leans forward even further, narrowing his eyes.
“But not sad enough for me to feel any sympathy for you, you stupid fuck.”
••••••
SOMEWHERE 32,000 MILES ABOVE
[•] OFF-CAMERA
“This,” she murmured, pressing her fingers into the armrests of the first class chairs, crossing her legs and leaning her head back against the plush headrest, “is traveling first class.”
Finn Whelan looked up from his iPad, glancing over at Kayla, who sat next to him, her eyes closed and her lip ring glinting in the light. Not often did she travel economy, but she also didn’t particularly like to fly very often. Finn had foot the bill for a bit more cash to fly first class from New York City to Phoenix, and they would drive together to Tucson for the show.
“Fuck economy. Fuck economy forever.” She reiterated, stretching her legs out as much as she could.
“I’m glad you’re having the best time in the world,” he replied, looking back down at his iPad and scrolling through tapes again. Anything to give him a competitive edge over Oliver one more time. It was all a compilation of his last few matches, and then the dual success they had over the Barnharts. No, he wasn’t worried. It was just what he did.
“That show data?” Kayla asked him, pursing her lips slightly as she watched Limitless move fluidly like a unit. “Ugh. There are some days that I wish it wasn’t the rules that Sin City pushes. I’d like to see what that vapid little blonde would do facing you.”
“Probably punch me,” he concluded with a chuckle. “I would probably deserve it, to be honest. I haven’t been all that nice.”
“Please. Last promo was you being nice.” She pushed herself back, reaching for the pamphlet in front of her and scrolling through the food options for the flight. It was four hours across country, and they’d left at night. She forgot to eat. “They have no idea what it looks like when Finn Whelan is pissed.”
“On the contraire, I think they do–”
Kayla shook her head and snorted. “No. You’re been professional. Calm. A little verbose like you always are, but remember that one time where you fucking annihilated Alex? I don’t think he’s ever gotten over it. Maybe he shouldn’t have fuc–”
“Okay, no more.” Finn snorted and paused the film. “Look. It’s on the horizon, right? A few more days and we prove to these little shits that it wasn’t a fluke.”
“And pretty much everyone else as well, but you know.” She tilted her head and looked at one of the snack packs closer. “Why is it ten dollars for a box of five dollar snacks?”
The small talk bothered him, immensely. There was so much surrounding his head that the only thing that he could think of was his bullshit with Kei and Dickie, and there was only so much that he could take. Based on their last interaction, however, he was trying to not get up in arms about it. He didn’t need Kayla pissed off at him before their match for him being a douchecanoe for no reason. So he tried to stuff it down.
Again.
“You know, I can hear Fido smarting off about it too.”
Fido was Aiden. Finn knew this. He looked at her, and she glanced at him. “What?”
“I was waiting for you to make fun of him.”
“I don’t have enough of a lack of brain cells to make fun of him.”
“Touche.” Finn chuckled and looked back down at his iPad. It was at this moment an iMessage came through, blatant as day, as a banner at the top of his screen. A text from Kei. A devil face emoji. That was all. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He didn’t know what his body did, but the next thing he knew, he was rushing down the aisle of first class towards the bathroom and flinging himself inside the little unit that really didn’t have the audacity to be called a “bathroom”. His face appeared back at him in a mirror and he saw the worst that he could when it came to him. His face was clammy, pale, and sweat had appeared in what he assumed was two seconds or less. He felt the urge to vomit in his stomach, but he was able to quench it by looking down and closing his eyes.
Every reminder about Dickie and Kei’s alliance made his stomach heave. He hated it. Dickie had no fucking clue who Kei was, what he could do, how he could easily break the child into a million pieces. And knowing that he’d gone after him? That he’d chosen his method of suicide?
Finn should have done more. He should have marched right down to Kei, but he knew there would be nothing to do about it. Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to surmise. Kei had Dickie by the shackles that he wanted Finn in, and if Finn was stupid enough, he’d find himself in those shackles too. He couldn’t help him. He couldn’t save him. He couldn’t do anything.
See, Finn was a protector. A man who protected everyone around him as fiercely as he could. Maybe it seemed controlling to some, maybe it was only hurtful to others. But to him? He would do everything to save the ones he loved. But he couldn’t become what Kei wanted again just to save his little brother. He couldn’t let anyone else come to know any of this, know any part of this.
He knew when he walked back to Kayla, she would ask him about it. He put his head against the mirror.
What would it hurt for her to know?
They were a team, right? She needed to know what was going on his head, try to help him assuage it, so that he could get his head on straight for their match against Limitless this coming Sunday. But he also could not get over the hump that she was no longer his friend, just somebody that he worked with closely now. Christmas had seen to that.
Fuck, Christmas. He hated it. He hated the time of year before last year, but it was bearable. It was manageable. He could deal with his family and his friends, and he could deal with the sounds of chaos in his household. And he could deal with the fact that Kayla…
…no, that was a wound still worth nursing.
He pulled back, turned on the water and splashed his face. It smelled of chemicals and treatment and he was glad he hadn’t decided to take a drink of water. Instead, he moved back down the aisle slowly after opening the door and letting the next person in. As he sat down, Kayla had her arms crossed and she was peering at him pensively.
“What,” he uttered – his mouth felt dry and his body felt like he’d run a marathon in just a few moments. It wasn’t a question.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Kayla asked him, just as he expected.
Finn dropped his head and ran his hands through his hair. He clenched at it for a second. For a moment, he could pretend, right? He could pretend that Kayla was his best friend again, he could pretend that neither of them had fucked up and they were as close as they once were. He inhaled slowly, lengthy, and exhaled through his nose.
“Callien,” she only ever called him by his real name if something was serious. He didn’t hate his name, he’d just gotten used to it being used by people close to him. He felt her hand at his back. Maybe she also was in the same boat as he was.
God, fighting with one another and your own emotions was hard…
“Look, there’s really no fucking point in not telling me anymore. I’m not blind, Callien. Please stop brushing me off.” She murmured quietly, and it was a voice he wasn’t used to anymore. She only used harsh tones, angry tones, or sarcastic tones anymore with him. Probably because it was easier.
“You remember the man who showed up at Thanksgiving with me?” He questioned, slowly, looking up at her.
“Nose-band?” She asked, and then nodded. “Yeah. Hideshima something.”
“Kei Hideshima,” Finn muttered, running his hand through his hair. “He…there’s a long history, Kayla. A long history. Maybe…maybe some time I can tell you but I…” He hesitated, and then looked at her fully. She had a worried expression. A genuine worried expression. “Look, it’s easy for me to deal with him. On my own. I’ve done it for nine of the last ten years. He’s a collector. A man who looks at people as acquisitions to help him succeed in his own agenda.”
She blew a raspberry. “What a fuck.”
He smiled a bit and then shook his head. “But he’s also extremely dangerous. He’s a shateigashira.”
Kayla frowned, but it took a while for the word to click. “Yakuza?” But that was the extent she knew.
He blinked and stared at her for a moment, somewhat confused. He swallowed again and nodded.
She hesitated, and then leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Why is Kei around again?”
Finn sighed and hung his head. “He wants to drop what he’s doing and make his own clan. His own family. He wants to take people he thinks he can manipulate and make them into his soldiers to do his bidding. He can collect people…things…in order to meet his ends. He was my mentor for the longest time, but I pulled myself away when it got too much. But now…”
“...he’s looking for people, right?” She concluded, looking at him and biting her lip. “He’s looking for people. Like you.”
“Like you,” he added, inclining his head. “Anyone that he thinks has power of some kind. But that’s not the worst part.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And that is…?”
Finn looked up at her, his blue eyes staring into her hazel-brown.
“Dickie’s involved in the mess now. He’s aligned with him and dropped off the grid."
••••••
“I think the thing that drives me nuts about you, Oliver, is that you decide to sit there and every fucking promo, tell everyone how bad Wolfslair is. Then you go after Kayla, acting like she’s ever been associated with the Training Facility. You don’t engage me. You don’t talk to me. You spend a lot of your promos when you’re facing specific people within this company about how shit an entire brand of wrestlers are because you don’t like their promo. Like you’re trying to get a rise from everyone behind the scenes. Oh no, the poor child said something about a training facility!
You’re not facing Wolfslair, you ignorant buffoon, and I hope the second time we beat you knocks some truth into your head. Like maybe not being an entire fucktwat to an entire group of people because you think they’re ignorant, trite people.
And before I continue on, Eiley – really, did you not learn your lesson the first time about discounting Kayla and I? The first time you did it was simply placing us as not a team. This time? Stating Kayla isn’t a decorated champion in this company and that she hasn’t done anything of worth?
You’re just a stupid as you look. Maybe the bleach really has burned your brain cells.”
Finn pushes himself up off the table and then walks around it, grabbing the final card off the table that laid upon the edge. He heads for the door, pushing it open and then out into the light. It forces him to wince for a moment, as the bustling sounds of the city of Phoenix, Arizona are heard. Smog fills the air, something that dissipates miles from the city center, but here, the casino is visible, the airport close by. It’s a lot of sound, noise, chaos.
It crescendos upwards, strings on a violin, almost breaking through and damaging the ears drums of the viewers watching like an explosion in a movie.
Until it stops.
The high note peaks, and then utter silence.
Finn opens his eyes. It’s as if time stands still.
“Noise is simply placed because it’s easy to distract people who don’t have their whole mind, body and soul centered into their desires. The noise created these past few weeks broke you, Olly. You couldn’t get ahead, you couldn’t succeed, you couldn’t do well until, like both of you said, you got a team that is as beatable as dough needing to be thrown to make bread. The noise destroyed you, and now you’re searching for some kind of confidence that you place into the fan’s perception of Jet City.
Except I don’t see anyone talking about how great the group is except for…well. You.
Oz, you’ve been called the weak link, you’ve been treated like a second class citizen, and you’ve been pointed out to be the cog that turns Eiley’s wheel, but she doesn’t reciprocate for you. These are all things that aren’t just said, Oz, they’re visible in shows. It’s all about what you put out there for the masses to see, and they’ve seen your downfall.
Kayla and I have weathered storms bigger than this and still come out on top. Divorces, chaos descending, people treating us like garbage, people watching from every side waiting for us to fail miserably like some idiots who left the stove on and die because of the gas leak. Don’t act like you know anything about us, because while you’re both trying to control this narrative that we’ll crash and burn, you don’t have the evidence to support this. There is no Kayla and I failing on camera, to even remotely work together for the greater, common good. While that’s spread out on the television screens week in and week out the past five shows, Kayla and I have not only been able to push ourselves to working with one another, we actually have been planning shit more and more often together because professionalism is key.
You haven’t been paying attention, and I know, it’s hard to hear that, Oz, but it’s the truth. You and Eiley? You don’t look past your own fallacies and inadequacies to look at the bigger picture. Just focus on the small detail that Kayla and I have an issue with one another personally, but we’re able to succeed just as well professionally. We’ve been saying this week in, week out, and it’s astonishing that you both aren’t able to capture that. “
Finn thumbs the card in his hand as he walks down the sidewalk of Phoenix’s inner city, before stopping, looking down at it, and then looking back up at the camera.
“This card arose as a simplistic question. I asked the cards who I am, symbolically. This card rose up in prominence, three out of four times.”
The image shown on the card is that of a tower, as Finn flips the tower card towards the screen.
“This is the Tower. Misery. Distress. Indigence. Adversity. Calamity. Disgrace. Deception and ruin. Destruction. All traits that this card carries. When it comes into the deck, it reveals to the reader that the person in question is symbolic of our own egos, and that change is not something we can escape. Where your path can be altered forever, and you have no choice in the matter.
But even in the midst of all this agony and chaos, the Tower represents a person who is full of energy, and unpredictable. A rebel who marches to the tune of his own beat. That status quo ain’t for me, and that’s what Limitless has been. I’m brutally honest, and I am truthful to a fault. Not only this, I push for people to understand the worst parts of themselves and make them see who they are.”
He pauses.
“I asked them who Oliver Zahn was. Even after all of your attempts to get under my skin, after everything you try to believe in yourself. This, too, rose up, five times out of six.”
He flips the card then.
“The Tower, reversed. We are the same Oliver, but we are very different. You talk about change, but what are you changing? Nothing. You and Eiley are together as a team once again, as you have always been. You’re not challenging any status quo, you’re not a rebel, you just fall in line as soon as you easily can to what is comfortable. The Tower, reversed, shows a person who is stubborn and fearful of change, who is critical. You’re not transparent, you’re self-contained, and you struggle with shame and anxiety. You’re excessively critical with yourself, which we all saw for weeks. You’re in your own fucking head, and you couldn’t pull yourself out of your own ass.
You’ve clung to this past where you and Eiley, together, are relevant. You ignore the present. Oh you can sit there and tell me time and time again that you’ve seen the world through a different light, but what happens when you see what I said and then go on a tangent about how we’re irrelevant? Like you have since day one? Kayla and I have every opportunity to grow into a stronger and stronger team, and Limitless has drawn themselves into the corner with the narrative that if they can’t make it out of this hole, then nothing else matters. What happens when the Wolves come for your throats?
What happens when you fall apart again?
You’re so lazily stitched together that it’ll be easy to unravel the strings. Meanwhile, Kayla and I continue to pull them tighter and tighter until you can’t figure out which threads to cut.
No, Oliver. Limitless won’t take the championships.
Limitless will cease to exist after December 2 Dismember. And believe me when I say that everyone will be more happy about it. No more listening to you and your soap opera drama, no more listening to anything but the sound of wrestlers fighting for the things they believe in rather than a paycheck provided because you mean something to someone who is no longer even relevant in this company.
Everyone’s time comes. And you thinking that you’re better than us? No.
The tables don’t turn so easily, kid.
Only when you’re not watching.
It’ll be a win-win.”
••••••
Callien,
I know you think I am the worst devil in the entire world.
I know you think that I am the worst leader for your brother.
But please know that I only do this all in kindness.
In reverence and respect for you and all you hold dear.
It does not end here.
Sooner or later, you – too – will come back to be my right hand.
I will devise a way, and you know I will.
Even if it has to be through her.
All the best.
恵